The Major told us that they had in the Hôtel de Ville the regimental standard of the Death's Head Hussars. They are keeping it there, although it would probably be a great deal safer in Brussels. Unfortunately the room was locked, and the officer who had the key had gone, so we could not look upon it with our own eyes.
Heading out of town, a young infantryman held us up and asked for a lift. He turned out to be the son of the President of the Court of Appeals at Charleroi. He was a delicate looking chap with lots of nerve, but little strength. His heavy infantry boots looked doubly heavy on him, and he was evidently in a bad way from fatigue. He had to rejoin his regiment which was twelve miles along the road from Diest, so we were able to give him quite a boost. He asked me to get word to his father that he wanted to be given a place as chauffeur or aviator, and in any other place that would not require so much foot work. There must be a lot of this sort. We finally landed him in the bosom of his company and waved him a good-bye.
By this time it was twilight, and the precautions of the guards were redoubled. A short way out from Louvain, a little Walloon stepped out from behind a tree about a hundred yards in front of us and barred the way excitedly. We were going pretty fast and had to put on emergency brakes, and skid up to him with a great smell of sizzling rubber. He informed us that papers were no good any more; that we must know the password, or go back to Louvain for the night. This he communicated to us in his best Walloon, which we finally understood. Blount started to tell him that we did not know, as the word had been changed since we left; but in one of my rare bursts of resourcefulness I thought to try a ruse, so leaned forward very confidently and gave him the password for the morning—"Belgique." With a triumphant look, he shook his head and countered: "No, Haelen!" He had shown the travellers from the outside world that he knew more than they did, and he was without any misgivings as to what he had done, and let us proceed without further loss of time. We got all the way back to Tervueren with this password, which was all that saved us from spending the night in Louvain and getting back nobody knows when. Nearly opposite the Golf Club we were stopped with the tidings that the word was no longer good, but that if we had satisfactory papers we could get into town. For some reason the password had evidently been changed since we left Louvain, so we got through with rare luck all along the line.
We rolled up to the Legation a few minutes before eight o'clock, and found that there was a great deal of anxiety about us. Cheerful people had been spreading the news all day that if we fell into the hands of the Germans they would hold us as hostages, as they did the Bishop and Mayor of Liège. They probably would if they had caught us, but they did not catch us.
Palmer was pleased at the amount we saw. It was by rare good luck that we got through the lines and we were probably the last who will get so far. To-day all laisser-passers have been canceled, and nobody can set foot out of town to the east. It gave us a pretty good idea before we got through as to how the troops must be disposed. I came within an ace of putting off our trip for a day or two. If I had, it would have cut me out of seeing anything.
As usual, when I go out, the lid had blown off the Legation and the place was in a turmoil. During the afternoon the Government had decided to move to Antwerp and take refuge in the enceinte. The Queen, the royal children and some of the members of the Government left at eight o'clock, and this morning more of them left. Most of the Diplomatic Corps have gone, and will have so much time to think of their troubles that they will be more uncomfortable than we are. The Spanish Minister will stay on and give us moral support.
Brussels, August 19, 1914.—Yesterday morning began with a visit from our old friend, Richard Harding Davis, who was still quite wroth because I had not waited for him to arrange for his passes and go with me on my trip. If we had, there would have been no trip, as he was not equipped until afternoon. After lunch he started off boldly for Namur, but got turned back before he reached Wavre, where there had been a skirmish with Uhlans. He was sore and disgusted.
While he was in my office, another troop arrived composed of Irwin Cobb, John McCutcheon, the cartoonist, Lewis and a few others. Later in the day, Will Irwin came in with news that he was closely followed by others. McCutcheon is a great friend of the Minister, and makes this his headquarters.
The Minister took them out to get laisser-passers. While they were away, Sir Francis Villiers came in and showed me a telegram from the Foreign Office, stating that British newspapers and news associations had been requested to recall their correspondents, as they had already done great harm by the news they had given out. He was also to request the Belgian Government to refuse permits of any sort to the press, and get all foreign correspondents out of the country. The Belgian Government realised the importance of this, and has consequently shut down the lid tight.