Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1918-08-30
:: The Truth About Belgium :
BY BRAND WHITLOCK

passed them affected not to see. The
NJnce was obliged to insert in ia
Belgique,' perhaps the principal of
the .censured newspapers that had
come into existence, a note officially
denying that he mad given a dinner
to the German authorities at the
Nonciature.
Music Again-But Not Wanted
The attitude of the Belgians con-
veyed in itself a reproach under
which the Germans seemed to smart.
With their war at that time fresh
and joyous" they did not like the
assumption of mourning, the alb
sence' of all life and gaiety. The
theaters were all closed and de-
clined to open; Belgian actors re-
: fused to appear; Belgian singers
would not sing; Belgian playwrights
would not permit the presentation
OF their plays. The usual carnival
at Mardi Gras, with the great
masked ball at the royal theater of
la Monnaie," had been forbidden
by the city authorities; ia Mon
maize" had been dark all winter long.
Then one day, among the usual ru-
Inors, there was one to the effect
the Opera 1t proved to be true,
and few days later great posters
were on the walls announcing it;
artists were coming from Germany,
with an orchestra and a chorus
three hundred and fifty persons in
all; they were to give the "Leonora"
overture and an act from die
Meistersinger." And Brussels loved
music so! The question was, would
anyone go?
The day came and the town was
in excitement There was even a
rumor that the kaiser was to be i'm
the royal box. But by universal
tacit consent it was made point of
honor not to go, sign of patriot
ism, that touching patriotism that
! was mourning in intensified resist
Y ance. 1t was said that the only
Belgian who would be present was
an old functionary of the Mon
maize" who for nearly forty years
had been at the door, and knew ev-
eryone in Brussels. He was the
only one of all the employees who
. would consent to work that night,
and he would make a report after
ward on the attendance. 1 was
walking back from de Vreese's
studio; the red sun, sinking behind
the city, reminded me that we had
German time, and that the sun was
setting an hour too soon; 1 would
have time to take a turn down by
the "Monnaie." went through the
old narrow, twisting streets, idltng
along, feeling as 1 always did the
charm of the old city. Crowds were
gathered and finally, at the Rue de
Fosse aux Loups, turning into the
Rue Leopold, three policemen
stopped me.
The street was indeed barred, and
a Gordon of soldiers around the
theater; 1 had to make a detour.
The rue Neuve was impossible, so
= great was the crowd; l had to go
. down then to the Boulevard Ans
pach and around that way. Every
Where there were the immense
waiting crowds, not waiting to go
to the concert. but to see who did
go! The atmosphere seemed charged
! with trouble But then the Ger
mans seemed to like trouble,
At times it seemed as if one
could no longer endure it, that one
must get out of the suffocating at
mosphere. AS l passed the park,
the gates, of which were barred and
locked, with sentinels on guard, a
bird was singing in the twilight like
the old wren in Hardy's poem,
bird with some reason for joy that
he knew, and of which I was not
aware. turned the corner into the
rue Lambermont; l went around by
the palace and past the ministry of
industry, where Won. der A4ancken
had the enormous German imperial
flag with the black eagle floating
from the staff over his window, and
in the clear cold winter sunset there
were thousands and thousands of
starlings, a great aerial army of
them, spread out like an enormous
fan; they rose and fell in graceful
maneuvers and whirled and turned
round and round over the park.
was glad that there were no senti-
nels around the starlings. They
could fly up and away.
There were always stories of
boys and men who had succeeded
in crossing the frontier, and stories
of boys and men who had not sue
ceeded but had been shot by senti-
nels or killed by the highly charged
electric wires. Every mother in
brussels Win a son STO"lHS up Was
trembling and dreading the day
when he would be big enough in
his own eyes to serve, dreading the
night when he would go away.
Besides these lads, whose patriot
ism was so beautiful, there were
soldiers of other armies; after the
battles of August near Mons hun
dreds of English and French SOL
diers were left behind in the re-
treat, and all winter they hid in the
woods, enduring untold miseries,
and now they were escaping, too;
one man was said to have shown
two hundred the way across the
frontier into Holland.
There was another movement,
coming in the opposite direction,
groups of men in utter misery-the
Belgian civilian prisoners who, hav-
ing been sent to prison camps in
Germany during the atrocities, were
now being sent back. They came,
pale and spectral figures, wasted be-
yond recognition, having subsisted
in those German camps on beet
soup, tatterdemalionS in the rags
of the summer garments they had
worn when they were herded into
cattle cars for their exile in that ter
rible August, and, as last indigni-
ty, with one side of their faces
shaven, the other heavily bearded.
There was but one Belgian at the
concert at the Monnaie that evening,
though there were enough Germans
then in town to fill the theater, and
If the kaiser was not present the
governor general was there to rep
resent him, surrounded by a bril-
liant staff, and all the boxes were
filled with officers. LIE Jeune, the
barber, who had an all wise air of