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4. -
TWENTY PAGES
AUTOMOBILES, ROADS
SCHOOLS, FEATURES
SECTION TWO
PHOTOPLAYS, DRAMA.
MUSIC, SOCIETY. CLUBS
PORTLAND, OREGON, SUNDA Y MORNING, APRIL 21, 1918.
TEUTON i BARBARIANS 'VENT THEIR HATE ON POOR LOUVAIN
University City
' Chamber of Horror
Accounts of Wanton Ruthlessness Told by Priests and Civilians
Who Escaped When City Was Destroyed Sound Like
Stories of Cruelties of Yaqui Indians.
By BRAND WH1TLOCK
l' nlted Htatta Minister to Belgium
M.'opyriglit. 11S. by Brand Whit lord, undr the title 'Memorien of Belgium L'ndsr the lierrnaa
OceapaUon.", Ail nhu rwerwd. Copyrighted in Urat Britain, ('aiiada and Australia. AU nchU
rner?d for Franca. Belgium. Holland, Italy, Hin. Hiuwia and the Scandinavian countries. Pub
tlalicd by apecial arrangement with the McClure Newnjiajier Syndicate.)
ON Wednesday, morning, August 26th, when Villalobar and I drove over to
see General the Baron Arthur von Luttwitz, we found him at the foreign
office. The Germans had established themselves in the Belgian ministeres
nd shut off the Park and the rue.de la Lot; there were sentries everywhere
and much explaining about der Spanischer Gesandter and der Gesandter der
Vereinigton-Staaten and we waited a long while in the ante-room where we
had sat so often waiting to see M. Davignon. German officers were coming
and going, very much at home. Finally we were shown into the presence of
General von Littwitz, who was most affable and courteous, and evidently a
man of strength and will. We began, Villalobar and I, to talk about the ques
tion of communication and to make suggestions about Brussels; the question
of food, for Instance. But the general said:
"Please graft me a truce for two days until I can install a civil adminis
tration. After that has been done all will go beautifully.
As we were about to go General von Luttwitz said:
A AmAtwX thinir ha orcurred at I.ruvain. The ireneral in command
- " " -rt O " --- .
there was talking with the Burgomaster when the son of the Burgomaster J
.shot the general, and the population began firing on the German troops."
We did not at once grasp the whole significance of the remark.
"And now, of course," he went on,
"we have to destroy the city. The or
ders are given and not one Btone will
be left on another. I'm afraid that that
beautiful Hotel de Vllle. which we saw
aa we came through there the other
day. Is now no more."
When he said this he lifted up his
hands In a gesture of regret.
That evening Gibson and Blount re
turned from Antwerp, full of news ;
first, and best of all, a dispatch from
Washington approving my course and
leaving the question of the removal of
the legation entirely to my judgment.
Only those who have been at the end
of a telegraph wire, 3000 miles away
from home, and In the midst of difficul
ties, can know the consolation that such
words would afford.
It bad been raining during the night
but It cleared partly. Davis expected
to leave at 1 o'clock with Gerald Mor
gan and Mlaa Boyle O'Reilly on a troop
train for Aix-la-Chapelle.
X told them," be said, at parting,
"that In four days the American min
ister' would begin to inquire about. me;
thai Is the way they always do It on
the stage." He said this with his hu
morous mouth twitching, fumbling with
the broad black ribbon of his eye glass.
bade Mm good-bye and watched him
drive away in a fiacre. It was drawn
by the sorriest pair of nags I ever saw.
and yet he sat there as calm and dis
tinguished as if he were driving up
Fifth avenue. And I thought of Van
Bibber, and of how the avenue looks
In the late afternoon when the throngs
are going up Murray hill. Ah me !
Did that gay Insouciance still exist
anywhere in the world? I stood and
watched him out of sight, regretting
his departure. And I never saw him
again.
The horror of Louvain was on is like
a nightmare, all the- more terrible be
cause It was vague, undefined, a kind
of nameless, formless thing, that sent
a shudder through Brussels, as perhaps
It was intended to do, where the like
might happen at any hour. The city
.was filled with foreboding and vague
apprehension ; miserable refugees, with
dumb expressions and eyes that had
looked on horror, came plodding wearily
Into town.
the ministries and the sentinels were
ugly i one of them impudently mounted
on the footboard of the car. At the
foreign office we were told that we
could not see the general. We insisted
on sending In our cards, and sat there
waiting, sensible, in the movements of
the officers who were constantly pass
ing through, of an evil atmosphere. The
windows were open and the marqula
and X stood there looking out into the
little place before the Palais de la Na
tion.! There were groups of grey sol
diers on the steps of the palace, their
arms stacked on the pavement. Two
ugly machine guns were mounted to
sweep the parK.
"They vomit death!" said Villalobar,
as though speaking to himself. We
turned away from the window. Finally
Major Hans von Herwaerts, who had
once been military attache at the Ger
man i embassy at Washington, and was
then; on the staff of General von
Luttwitz, wearing a great pair of tor
toise; shell reading glasses, came out
to receive us. To him I made my pro
tests about the treatment of the priests
and 4 the - professors of the American
college and indeed such treatment of
priests in general, and Villalobar rnadd
similar representations on behalf of
the Spanish priests. Major von Her
waertz understood, rushed into the
room, where behind the closed door
was General von Luttwits. He came
out and assured us that the release
of the priests would be immediately
ordered, anu while he was telling U3
this two tall dark figures, priests,
swept out in tl.eir long black soutanes.
Then we all went with the general
into; hisj or into Davignon's room.
He ; was Rerlous, and Instantly in
structed Major von lierwaertz tew give
orders liberating the priests ; told him
to give them by telegraph, by tele
phone, and in addition to send out
mounted orderlies to meet the col
umns on the. road, and to liberate th-i
priests at once.
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I V & JtTTT. 11 ' tt - "I Louvalntown hall, or Hotel de Vllle, before bombardment..
i a u rrH. I Mf HI. : . ,
111 I
EARLIER CHAPTERS
IN BRIEF REVIEW
In the earlier chapters of his nar
ration of the occupation of Belgium.
Brand Whitlook. the United States
minister to Belgium, has painted a
graphic picture of the happy life In
Belgium in the summer of 1914,
stating that even after Austria's
summary ultimatum to Serbia, the
Belgians refused to be alarmed, re
lying upon the security guaranteed
them by other powers. Their se
curity was short lived, however, and
with the clarity that characterizes
his writing. Mr. Whitlock has told
of the German demand for a free
passage through Belgium, of King
Albert's prompt and dignified re
fusal and of the advance of the lit
tle Belgian army to meet the in
vader and of the arrival of the Ger
mans In Brussels. Today's install
ment tells the horrible story of the
wanton destruction of Ixuvain and
the mistreatment of its Innocent pop
ulation. Subsequent installments
will . relate other German atrocities
in Belgium. ,
Tragic Story
Is Told
Hundreds Shot
At Louvain
Late In the afternoon It was reported
at the legation that at Louvain the
Germans at that moment -were massa
crelng the people ; that the town was
burning, and the tragedy complete ;
hundreds had been shot down ; the ca
thedral, the library, the Hotel de Vllle.
were In flames. Forty priests, some of
them from the American college, had
been seised as hostages, and were even
. then being driven in casts along the
road to Brussels.
wnat was to be done? As I was
thinking. Villalobar came, he too with
that face of horror; there were Spanish
priests In that band of hostages as well.
we decided to go at once to General
Von Luttwits. Villalobar's car was at
the door and we drove away. It was
7 o'clock. There was a heavy guard at
1
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those who had so terribly suffered. I
seldom heard any of them express
hatred of the Germans or any desiro
for revenge. They never even spoke
of them as "Boches" and were by no
means in such a fury of rage and de
sire for revenge as I have observed in
persons safe in luxurious drawing
rooms thousands of miles away. Isone
of them, so far as I could observe or
learn, even acted in the tragic manner ;
there were no heroics and no histrion
ics ; they , did not demean themselves
as do people in the cinema or in the
romanticistic novels. I have read
somewhere a psychological explana
tion of this phenomenon by the late
Professor William James, who observed
It and made interesting notes of it
at the time of the San Francisco
earthquake. In moments of great dan
ger, of great strain and tragedy, people
are simple and natural ; they do not
act, in the theatrical sense of the word.
It was thus with the young woman
who, on that Tuesday, about eight
Louvain town hall after bombardment.
o'clock In the evening, when' German
soldiers suddenly beat on the door of
her home in Louvain, and her father
and brother ran to open it, heard shots
and had not seen her father or brother
since. She took her eight weeks old
baby in her arms and, climbing the
garden wall, found refuge in the home
of a friend for a night and a day,
while on all sides the houses were in
There was ho more that we could do
but; we sat and talked awhile with the
general. He told us that the Germans
everywhere were victorious and that
they would soon be ir. Paris. And he
said that Burgomaster Max had re
ceived an official telegram from th.
French government saying that it
could give Belgium no further aid on
the battlefield. He spoke of M. Max
with admiration.
t brave man," he said, "and patrl
otic. I admire him ; he stands up and
doesn't crawl when he comes into my
presence."
I did not know why anybody should
do that.
When I returned to the legation
found Madame Poulet. the wife of the
Belgian minister of arts and sciences,
witn two of her children little girls
with golden curls, their upturned faces
filled with that distress and wonder
and despair that children Know when
their parents weep, for then the world
tumbles in ruins about them, and there
is nowhere to go.
The world seemed very much like
that, that evening, to all of us, who
were as helpless as children. 'Madame
Poulet's home was in Louvain, and that
afternoon her mother, a woman 80
years old, had walked all the way from
tne aoomed city, a distance of 24 kilo
meters. s,ne told me- something of
the awful tale as she knew it but it
seemed better, ultimately, to talk of
the two little girls standing by. and
as she did so she gathered them into
heif arms, folding them in an embrace
like that of countlpsH nthr mrh,.-,
in Belgium that night, and finally led
theim away, their curls bobbing, down
the long corridor, somewhat comforted.
coma nope, for there was
miracle in those davs! miio
All the next day the nanta ntri-vn
people continued to douV into th itv
from Louvain, with their tales of hor
ror. The mind was stunned; the event
was too enormous to be grasped; It
seemed to have the inevitable and fa
talistic quality of some great catastro
phe in nature; it had happened, that
was all: it was not to be sranri it-
was there before one, in the world,
like an earthquake or a conflagration
or! a tornado, all of which in its effect
it s so much resembled. Those who
came told their stories calmly, sitting
there with blank impassive faces; only
in: the eyes that had looked on thosa
horrors the terror of it all was still
reflected. One was struck by their lack
of,' rancor; they seemed to have suf
fered too deeply for that.
5
Arm
v Marched
While It Slept
George W. Crile Tells of Nine-Day Retreat of Allied Armies 180
Miles From Mons to Marne After Being Overpow
ered by the Enemy.
flames, and finally, carrying her child,
she dodged from street to street, hold
ing up one arm and waving a white
handkerchief, and so reached the vil
lage of t Loefdael. and from there, Ter
vueren and at last. Brussels.
It was bo with the widow of 60 ;
German soldiers at 5 o'clock on Wed
nesday morning turned her and her
niece, a young woman about to become
a mother, out of her house and drove
them from place to place, half clad
the guardhouse at St. Martin' bar
racks, the Place du Peuple, the Hotel
de Vifle, and finally to the infantry
barracks, rue de Tlrlemont. They
were forced every now and then to
kneel on the ground and to raise their
arms above their heads, while the Ger
mans pressed the muzzles of guns
against their breasts or kicked them
or Btruck them ; then, holding them as
prisoners In the barracks until Thurs
day, allowed them to return home to
find their house burned to the ground
and all that the widow had in the
world shares of the value of 135.000
francs, contained in an iron box in a
valise;' her jewelry and diamonds In a
little hand satchel and diamonds In a
little hand satchel, which she had
buried In the garden gone.
Priests Kicked r
and Cuffed
.It was so with a young Louvain
priest I knew, one of the group in that
tragic scene there in the square be
fore the railway station. He had been
seized with others, made to march in
front of the troops, kicked and cuffed.
and spat upon, struck with the butts
of guns ; his hands were tied behind
him with barbed wire and there at the
Place de la Station he was forced to
remain standing, not even allowed to
lean against the wall ; and this for
hours, with repeated Insults and per
sonal outrage while his townsmen one
by one were led out and shot, there at
the side of the square, "near the house
of Mr. Hemalde."
I might go on Indefinitely, recount
ing experiences such as these ; they
would fill a volume. But of all those
I heard, of all those that were written
out for me, there is one that remains
more vivid in my memory than all the
rest. There was another priest, an old
white-haired ecclesiastic, a scholar and
an ' educator, whom one addressed as
Monseigneur. He was one of those
priests whose liberation I had secured
on 'Thursday night, and in the morning
he came with two others to thank me.
He had left Louvain when the exodus
was ordered on Thursday ; he had gone
to Tervueren with other priests ; there
he had witnessed the murder of Father
ru pi erreux-.h---had - tie i awl' swa t
filthy cart, as a hostage, and sent Into
Brussels ; and seen thus, the story had
been brought to our legation t lrus
m'avez sauvp la vie!"' -("And you have
saved my life.")
He sat there at my table, a striking
figure, the delicate face, dignified and
sad. the silver hair, the long black sou
tane and the scarlet sash ; in his whtte
hand a well worn breviary. There were
two other figures, dark, grave and sol
emn two Jesuit fathers who had come
with him. sitting by in silent sympathy.
They had come to express their grati
tude. Monseigneur described the events.
He told it calmly, logically, connectedly.
his trained mind unfolding the events
In orderly sequence ; the sound of firing
from Herent, the sudden uprising of the
German soldiers, the murder, the lust,
the loot, the fires, the pillage, the evac
uation and the destruction of the City,
and all that.
Great Library
Wantonly Burned
The - home of his father had . been
burned, and the home of his brother ;
his friends and his colleagues had been
murdered before his eyes and their
bodies thrown Into a cistern ; long llnea
of his townspeople, confined la the rail
way station, had been taken out -and,
r-aooin Ui i church of St. Peter's ;
was destroyed, the Hotel de "Vllle. fha
finest example of late Oothlo extant,
was doomed, and the Hallea of the Unl
verslty had been consumed ; and ha had
told It all calmly. But there In the
HaUes of the University was the li
brary : its hundreds of thousands of
volumes. Its rare and ancient manu
scripls. its unique collection of incuna
bula, had all been burned, deliberately,
to the last scrap. Monseigneur had
reached this point In his recital, ha had
begun to pronounce the word '"blbllo
theque" he had said, "la blblio." and
he stopped auddenty, and bit bis Quiv
ering lip. "La bib " he. went on-
and then, spreading his arms on tho
table before him. he bowed his head
upon them and wept aloud.
We sat there silent, the two priests
and I le coeur gros. as the French say
and our own eyes something mora
than moist.
They did not remain long after that.'
and when they went away Monseigneur
forgot his breviary and left it lying qa
my table. And I let It He there. i
i (To Be Continued Next Sunday.) -
Lack of Passion
li Noticeable
Indeed. - alt through that experience,
then and afterwards, I was struck by
the lack of passion displayed by all
DERHAPS one of the greatest re-
treats in history," writes George
W. Crile in his recent book. "A Mechan
istic View of War and Peace," "was
that of the allied armiey from Mons
to the Marne, After a sustained
and heavy action at Mons, being over
powered by the enemy, the alliedY armies
began a retirement which continued for
nine days and ( nights 180 miles of
marching without making camp Is the
story of that great retreat in which
the pace was set by the enemy. Only
rarely were sufficiently long halts made
for the men to catch a few moments of
rest. Food and water were scarce and
irregularly supplied."
But "the paramount Interest in that
retreat Is found In the sleep phenomena
experienced by these men," says the
writer. Sleep Is as necessary to the body
as food and air. Animals cannot live
longer than five to eight days without
sleep. How then did these men endure
for nine days, in addition to the, lack
of sleep, the privations of war the
scant supply of food and water, the
making of forced marches, the fighting
of one of the greatest battles of history?
"They did an extraordinary thing-
they slept whije they marched! Sheer
fatigue 8 lowed down their pace to a
rotA tVint wmiM- iwrmlf thMti tn slften
while walking. When they halted they
fell asleep. They slept in water, on.
rough ground, when suffering the pangsr
of hunger apd of thirst, and even when
severely wounded. They cared not for
capture, not even for death If they
could only sleep."
They marched through towns and
villages asleep, soldier reeling against
his companion in arms as they tramped
with rifles across their shoulders. Ar
tillerymen slept on horseback. Now
and then a less sleepy: man wakened
and aroused to further effort a com
panion whose limbs were becoming so
heavy with sleep that he was In danger
of dropping by the wayside. Of those
who lagged behind the ranks and were
captured by the enemy all were found
asleep.
When the wounded of this sleeping
army were taken to the hospital they
continued to sleep on tnelr Bleep of ut
ter exhaustion. In one hospital contain
ing more than 500 men there was not a
sound. "Not a groan, not a motion.
not a complaint.." Nothing would rouse
these men food, nor water of which
they were sorely in need, nor the pros
pect of being comfortably cared for.
They slept even while their wounds were
being dressed, a process which in many
cases would ordinarily have been ex
tremely painful. Yet the men were too
exhausted even to feel pain.
During this sleep oi exhaustion the
dream of the soldier is always of bat
tlenever of home and of quiet scenes
in his past life. Sometimes a sleeper
will spring up with a cry and reach
for his rifle.
Dreams of soldiers under the influ
ence of anesthetics are the same. "One
day a French soldier in the first stage
of anesthesia broke the stillness of the
operating room, transfixing every one.
while in low, beautiful tones, and with
intense feeling he sang the Marseil
laise."
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