Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1918-05-03

prefer harangued the hostages, tell
ing them that if the shooting con-
tinued they would all be hanged, the
city bombarded and forced to pay
levy of twenty million francs. Final
ly Monsiegneur COanraets and
Father Parys were ordered to pro-
claim this menace to the people, to
exhort them to be calm and to cease
firing on the German troops. They
went, accompanied by Won Manteuffel
and a platoon of soldiers, on their
ungrateful and impossible mission.
Monseigneur COanraets wasa man
over sixty and already aged by toll
and constant study; broken by emo
ton and by the horrors that we're
going on about him, he was forced
by the score of soldiers who sur
rounded him, and by the two officers
who cooked their revolvers always at
his head. to march through those
streets. followed by women and chill
dern who had known and revered
him all their lives, lifting their
hands, weeping, praying, swearing
to him that they would do all they
could to save him, and the town. His
voice was Choked with smoke and
dust, he was ready to faint, yet hour
after hour he must march about, the
dignified vice rector of the old uni
versity, with the Dominican friar,
halt at every street corner and re-
cite the proclamation, in French ana
in Flemish-as though he had al
ready judged his fellow citizens, AS
though he were imploring his own to
desist from crimes of which they
were only the victims!
DR.. Burghausen
Near the statue of Juste-Lipse,
there in the rue de la Station, there
appeared a figure that fits across the
scene of the Louvain tragedy like
some actor in the cinema, DR.. George
Berghausen, young surgeon in the
landstrum. He came running in
wild excitement, and as he met the
company of hostages, he cried out
that a German soldier had just been
killed by snOt fired from the resi-
dence of David Fishback, and he
shouted to the soldiers:
u6 DlOOu VI Iu0 pOpuid-
ton of Louvain is not worth a drop
of the blood of one German soldier. "
They went on; one man says that
one of the German soldiers threw an
intiammable pastel into the house of
Mr.. Fishback, and that it fiared into
flames; ] do not know. But a mo-
ment later, there at the foot of the
statue of Juste-Lipse, lay the body of
David Fishback, an old man of eigh-
ty-twO, beside that of his son. The old
coachman, Joseph Vandermosten,
had entered the house to try to save
the life of his master, but he did not
return. His body was found the
next day amidst the ruins.
Nearly three hundred persons were
gathered in the Place de la Station;
most were weeping" In the midst
of this inferno, amid the roar and
glare of flames, with the cracking of
rife shots, the steady cluck-cluck-
cluck of machine guns, making a
noise like a riveter, and that most
hideous of all sounds, the Mutations
of a mob, dominating all the rest, the
massacre and the incendiarism went
on.
1t continued all through the night;
toward morning the great tower of
st. Peters church burst into flames,
but the soldiers would not allow the
people to enter the church to save it.
The great bell fell with a crash. And
dawn came, and another day, but the
horror went on.
1t was Wednesday morning, the
26th. German soldiers, drunk, black
with the, SCOT of their incendiarism,
were going through the streets and
bursting into houses, crying He
raus." turning the covering inmates
into the streets, with such blows and