When we got back to the hotel after a fast run, I found that Inglebleek, the King's Secretary, had been around twice for me, and wanted me to go at once to the Palace. I jumped into the car and ran over there, to learn that the Queen wanted to see me. She was then at dinner, and he thought it would do the next time I came up—she seems to have wanted more news of Brussels—nothing pressing. She had told Inglebleek to give me a set of the pictures she had had taken of the damage done to the Cathedral at Malines. They are interesting as a matter of record.
Sir Francis had another good bulletin from the War Office, and was beaming. The colleagues came and gathered round the table, and chortled with satisfaction.
Heavy cannonading continued well into the night, to cover the advance of the ——th Division, which had been reinforced and was moving back into the dark and rain to take up its old position and be ready for the Germans in the morning.
I was up and about early on Sunday morning. Had breakfast with Count Goblet d'Alviella, one of the Ministers of State. Gathered up Monsieur de Woeste and Faura, and made for the Scheldt and Brussels. Instead of going across on the boat as we had to do the last time, we found a broad and comfortable pontoon bridge placed on canal boats and schooners lashed together and moored from one side of the river to the other. Any time they like, the Belgians can cut the string, and there is no way of getting into the city from that side. There was a tremendous wind blowing and the rain fell in torrents—short showers—from the time we left Antwerp until we came sailing into town here.
The bridge at Termonde had been blown up by the Germans on evacuating the place after having destroyed the entire town, so there was no thought of returning that way. I knew there could be nothing doing the direct way through Malines, so decided on a long swing around the circle by way of Ghent as the only practicable way. We found Belgian troops all the way to Ghent, and had no trouble beyond giving the password which I had. We drew up at a restaurant in a downpour and had a hasty lunch, getting under way again immediately afterward.
About ten kilometers this side of Ghent we came to Melle, a village which had been destroyed, and another where a number of houses had been burned. A nice-looking young chap told us that there had been a fight there the day before and that the Germans had set fire to the place as they retreated—just from cussedness, so far as he could see. There, and at another place along the road, peasants told us that they had been made to march in front of the German troops when they marched against the Belgians. I don't like to believe that there is any truth in that story but it comes from every direction and the people tell it in a most convincing way.
We found no Germans until we were this side of Assche and then our adventures were evidently at an end. As we came in we could hear heavy cannonading from the direction of Vilvorde and Hofstade and knew that the fight was still going on. They had been hearing it in town for a couple of days.
The family at the Legation had been somewhat anxious, but had learned through the Germans that we were all right—evidently from somebody who got through the lines. I had to sit right down and tell the story of my life from one end to the other.
I never got over the idea in Antwerp of the incongruity of going out onto the field all day and fighting a big battle, or rather, watching it fought, and then sailing comfortably home to a big modern hotel in a motor and dressing for dinner. I don't think there has ever been a war quite like this before.
Herwarth has gone to the front for some active service. I am sorry to miss him. He went up to Hofstade the day I was to have returned, and waited for me about an hour, but the fire got too thick for him and he came back and reported that I would not be able to get through.