The news of the fall of Liege spread with lightning rapidity throughout Berlin and created boundless enthusiasm. The Emperor sent an aide-de-camp to announce the capture of the city to crowds that assembled outside the palace.

Policemen on bicycles dashed along Unter den Linden proclaiming the joyful tidings. Imperial Chancellor Bethmann-Hollweg drove to the castle to congratulate the Emperor on the victory and was enthusiastically cheered along the way.

PEASANTS AND TOWNSPEOPLE FLEE

Following the fall of Liège came a number of sanguinary engagements in northern Belgium; the unopposed occupation of Brussels on August 20, and a four days' battle beginning on August 23, in which the Germans forced back the French and British allies to the line of Noyon-LaFère across the northern frontier of France. In the northern engagements the Belgians gave a good account of themselves, but were everywhere forced to give way before the innumerable hosts of the Kaiser, though not without inflicting tremendous losses on the invaders.

The retirement of the civilian population before the advancing masses of the German army was a pathetic spectacle. It was a flight in terror and distress.

On Tuesday, August 18, the German troops surged down upon Tirlemont, a town twenty miles southeast of Louvain, around which they had been massing for some days, presumably by rail and motor cars. The stories which had reached the inhabitants of Tirlemont of the happenings at surrounding towns and villages had not added to their peace of mind, and soon the moment for flight arrived. All kinds of civilians set out towards Brussels and Ghent for refuge. At times the road was full of carts bearing entire families, with pots and pans swaying and banging against the sides as the vehicles bumped over the roadway. The younger women, boys and menfolk who had been left in the towns and villages fled on foot. Priests, officials and Red Cross helpers mingled with the crowd. This stream of unfortunates uprooted from their homes was thus described by an eyewitness:

"These masses of broken-hearted people moved silently
along, many weeping, few talking. With them they brought
a few of their possessions, as pathetically miscellaneous as
the effects one might seize in the panic haste of a hotel fire.
Ox wagons, bundles and babies on dog-drawn carts or on men's
backs, bicycles and handcarts laden with kitchen utensils, all
mingled with the human stream. Here were to be seen sewing
machines, beds, bedding, food, and there a little girl or boy
with some toy clasped uncomprehendingly in a dirty hand;
they also knew that danger threatened and that they must
save what they held most dear. And even among these unhappy
people there were some more unfortunate than the
others—men and women who had no bundle, children who
had no doll. All the way to Louvain there flowed this human
stream of misery. Back along the Tirlemont road rifle firing
could be heard and entrenchments were to be seen in the town
itself."

These scenes between Tirlemont and Louvain were typical of those on every road leading to the larger cities of Belgium as the inhabitants fled before the approach of the dreaded Uhlans.

FALL OF NAMUR

On the afternoon of Sunday, August 23, the fortress of Namur was evacuated by the Belgians, and the town was later occupied by the Germans.