In a short time the Bois, so long deserted and melancholy, presented a scene of life that did the heart good to see. Hundreds of bicycles, all bearing the Teuton trade-mark cleverly disguised, rolled gaily over the smooth asphalt of wide avenues, where the splendid automobiles of former days no longer deterred the timid; where, at that time, not even a German car or vehicle of any sort impeded their way.
So great was the pleasure and benefit afforded, especially to wan, under-nourished shop-girls and lads, in sad need of fresh air and some diversion in their joyless existence, that one was tempted to feel more kindly toward the occupying Government, until, later on, the subtle and selfish aim became known of this sole act of seeming consideration. Nevertheless, during those summer months a surprising spirit of comparative gaiety developed. The conflict raging without seemed temporarily forgotten. Young and old indulged to the full the delight of wheeling along smooth cycle tracks (laid before the war) through leafy woodlands out to Groenendael and other picturesque spots in the environs, where restaurants, that had done no business for two years, gladly welcomed them.
Whole families were to be seen awheel; fathers and mothers, accompanied by children of all ages. Loving couples, even elderly women and white-haired men, experienced the first semblance of pleasure and liberty since the 20th of August 1914. On Sundays, especially, this manifestation of reawakened life was delightful to see. From morn till eve the city avenues and those of the Bois were moving streams of radiant cyclists, eager to leave the town behind and taste the sweetness of summer under fragrant boughs, or in flowered fields where they would settle in parties for luncheon. Jeanne from the laiterie, Jacques from the butcher’s shop—hundreds of poor, tired young creatures, who slaved on weekdays to provide themselves and war-widowed mothers with the necessities of life, were all there, smiling and forgetting the sacrifices made to procure a cheap German wheel—sacrifices often betrayed in their hunger-pinched faces! But the privilege was not indulged in only by these; the aristocrats welcomed it as gladly, and innumerable smart men and women, deprived of their horses and cars, pedalled along by the side of Jeanne and Jacques as contentedly as they.
I have no exact knowledge of how many bicycles were sold in Belgium during that summer; but judging by the fact that one was procured by every individual in the capital able to ride and scrape together the price, many thousands must have been sold in Brussels alone—all provided by Germany! A large number of the poorer classes could not save the necessary sum until the summer was over, and cold, bad weather prevented them enjoying their hard-earned acquisitions. But they had something to look forward to for the coming summer, should the war continue—and there was then little prospect of it coming to an end!
These last, unfortunately, made their sacrifices in vain; for no sooner was everyone provided with a wheel, and the enormous demand, so cunningly created and provided for, had been satisfied, than the moment arrived for the sequel of Germany’s clever commercial coup!
Immediately an order was published that everyone possessing a bicycle should not only declare but deliver his tyres, as the rubber was needed by the army! Riding was forbidden, even to those who, after yielding their tyres, asked permission still to enjoy their wheels by using tyres of rope!
Thus was solved the mystery of that one instance of kindness towards a wronged people! The German army secured the rubber without robbing its own nation; and, moreover, enriched certain home manufacturers with the pathetic savings of many a Belgian girl and lad, since fallen a victim to tuberculosis—an epidemic then already beginning to ravage their country’s youth!
Of course the usual excuse was given for checking the use of bicycles: someone—who and how was not revealed!—had abused the privilege, therefore all should be denied it! But if, indeed, that abuse ever was committed, it must have been during the first weeks after permission to ride was given. No one, anxious to serve his country, or to escape, would have waited until the last importation of wheels had been disposed of! This, moreover, did not explain why permission was never again given, although during the two following summers there was no conceivable reason why those who asked to ride with rope tyres within a certain limited locality should be refused.
The whole affair was an abominable trick, subtly clever, with that sly and treacherous cleverness which won a vast advantage for the German army in the beginning, and has ever since characterized its policy.
The dark months of winter crept upon us; another joyless Christmas approached—a day suggesting not peace and good-will, but rather blasphemous mockery of all that Christ taught. One black day was like another, always throbbing with the more or less loud roar of distant cannon, stirred only when good news fanned to brief flame our almost extinguished hope. Only this, and the ever-new laws imposed by the enemy, made us realize we were yet alive, and roused us sufficiently to note what the day of the month might be.