goose step. In the van were such famous regiments as the Death's Head and Zeiten Hussars. The infantry wore heavy boots, which, falling in unison, struck the earth with resounding blows, to echo back from the house walls. Thus cavalry, infantry, and artillery poured through Louvain in a gray-green surge of hitherto unimagined military might. This, for the latter part of the 20th and the day following.
At first the citizens looked on from the sidewalks in a spellbound silence. Scarcely one seemed to possess the incentive to breathe a whisper. Only the babies and very small children regarded the awe-inspiring spectacle as something provided by way of entertainment. For the rest of the citizens it was dumbfounding beyond human comprehension. Cavalry, infantry, and artillery rolled on unceasingly to the clatter of horses' hoofs, the tramp of feet, the rumble of guns, and that triumphant mighty chorus. There was nothing of aforetime plumed and gold-laced splendor of war about it, but the modern Teutonic arms on grim business bent. Except for a curious glance bestowed here and there, the German troops marched with eyes front, and a precision as if being reviewed by the emperor. A few shots were heard to stir instant terror among the citizen onlookers, but these were between the German advance guard and Belgian stragglers left behind in the city. Presently the side streets became dangerous to pedestrians from onrushing automobiles containing staff officers, and motor wagons of the military train. General von Arnim, in command, ordered the hauling down of all allied colors, but permitted the Belgian flag to remain flying above the Hôtel de Ville. He promptly issued a proclamation warning all citizens to preserve the peace. It was both placarded and announced verbally. The latter was performed by a minor city official, ringing a bell as he passed through the streets accompanied by policemen.
Toward evening of August 20, 1914, the cafés and restaurants filled up with hungry German officers and men; every hotel room was occupied, and provision shops speedily sold out the stores on their shelves. The Germans at first paid in cash for everything ordered, and preserved an attitude of nonaggression toward the citizens. But subconsciously there ran an undercurrent of dread insecurity. At the outset a German officer was said to have been struck by a sniper's bullet. Somewhat conspicuously the wounded officer was borne on a litter through the streets, followed by the dead body of his assailant. Very promptly a news curtain was drawn down around the city, cutting it off from all information of the world without. Artillery fire was heard. Presumably this came from the last stand of the Belgian rear guard in a valley of the hilly country between Louvain and Brussels. With sustained optimism to the end, rumor had it that the artillery fire was that of French and British guns coming to the relief of Louvain. Toward nightfall one or two groups of alleged snipers were brought in from the suburbs and marched to the place of execution.
The feeling of a threatened calamity deepened. Another warning proclamation was issued ordering all citizens to give up their arms. Further, everyone was ordered to bed at eight o'clock, all windows were to be closed and all doors unlocked. A burning lamp was to be placed in each window. On the claim that German soldiers had been killed by citizens, the burgomaster and several of the city officials were secured as hostages. A stern proclamation was issued threatening with immediate execution every citizen found with a weapon in his possession or house. Every house from which a shot was fired would be burned.
This was on August 22, 1914. By the evening of that day the German army had passed through Louvain, estimated to the number of 50,000 men. Only the 3,000 garrison remained in the city. Outwardly, the citizens resumed their usual daily affairs as if with a sense of relief, but whispers dropped now and then revealed an abiding terror beneath. Some time during the next day or two the anticipated calamity fell upon Louvain. The Germans without any proof insisted that sniping was going on, and the military authorities seized this pretext to put into force their threatened reprisal. The torch was thrown into convicted houses. Larger groups of citizens were led to execution. Thereupon the "brute" passion dormant in soldiers broke the bonds of discipline. Flames burst forth everywhere. Beneath the lurid glow cast upon the sky above Louvain whole streets stood out in blackened ruin, and those architectural treasures of the Halles and the University, with its famous library, were destroyed beyond hope of repair. Only the walls of St. Peter's Church, containing many priceless paintings, remained.
Meanwhile, on the morning of August 20, 1914, the German army had swept away the comparatively small Belgian rear-guard force before Brussels, and advanced upon the capital. On the previous 17th the King of the Belgians removed his Government to Antwerp. The diplomatic corps followed. Mr. Brand Whitlock, the American Minister, however, remained. In his capacity as a neutral he had assisted stranded Germans in Brussels from hasty official and mob peril. He stayed to perform a similar service for the Belgians and Allies. His success in these efforts won for him German respect and the gratitude of the whole Belgian nation.
A lingering plan for defending Brussels by throwing up barricades and constructing wire entanglements, to be manned by the Civic Guard, was abandoned in the face of wiser counsel. It would merely have resulted in a bombardment, with needless destruction of life and property. Brussels was defenseless.
In flight before the German host, refugees of all classes were streaming into Brussels—young and old, rich and poor, priest and layman. Nearly all bore some burden of household treasure, many some pathetically absurd family heirloom. Every kind of vehicle appeared to have been called into use, from smart carriages drawn by heavy Flemish horses to little carts harnessed to dogs. Over all reigned a stupefied silence, broken only by shuffling footfalls. Among them the absence of automobiles and light horses would indicate all such had been commandeered by the Belgian military authorities. Their cavalry was badly in need of good light-weight mounts. At crossroads passage to imagined safety was blocked by farm live stock driven by bewildered peasants.
On Thursday morning, August 20, 1914, the burgomaster motored forth to meet the Germans. His reception and the terms dictated by General von Arnim were almost identically the same as at Louvain. The burgomaster was perforce compelled to accept. The scene of the entry of the German troops into Louvain was repeated at Brussels. There was the same stolidly silent-packed gathering of onlookers on the sidewalks, the same thundering triumphant march of the German host. Corps after corps, probably of those who had fought at Liege, and subsequently passed around the city on the grand sweep toward the French frontier. Moreover, huge bodies of German troops were advancing up the valley of the Meuse and through the woods of the Ardennes. As in Louvain, that night the hotels, restaurants, cafés, and shops of Brussels were patronized by a rush of trade which never before totaled such extent in a single day. Bills of purchase were settled by the Germans in cash. The city was promptly assessed a war indemnity of $40,000,000.
With the fall of Brussels, the first objective of the Germans may be said to have been gained. But the right wing of Von Kluck's army was still operating northward upon Antwerp. The Belgian army had escaped him within the circle of Antwerp's forts, so that he detailed a force deemed to be sufficient to hold the enemy secure. Then he struck eastward between Antwerp and Brussels at Alost, Ghent, and Bruges. In his advance he swept several divisions of cavalry, also motor cars bearing machine guns. Beyond Bruges his patrol caught their first glimpse of the North Sea, drawing in toward another much-hoped-for goal on the English Channel.
But the Belgian army within security of Antwerp had not been routed. It had retreated in good order, thanks to the resistance of its right-wing rear guard. General de Moranville promptly reenforced it with new volunteers to the extent of some 125,000 men. In addition, he drew upon a fresh supply of ammunition, and new artillery well horsed. His cavalry, however, were certainly no better and probably worse than that with which his army had been complemented originally.
On August 23, 1914, obtaining information that the Germans were in considerably inferior force at Malines, the Belgians began a vigorous counteroffensive. General de Moranville drove the Germans out of Malines on the day following. That was in the nature of a master stroke, for it gave the Belgians control of the shortest railway from Germany into West Flanders. Further, since Von Kluck had reached Bruges, and reenforcements under General von Boehn had passed across the Belgian direct line on Brussels, the great German right wing was in danger of being caught in a trap. Von Boehn, therefore, was hurriedly detached rearward to deal with the Belgian counteroffensive. But this deprived Von Kluck of his needed reenforcements to overcome 2,000 British marines landed at Ostend, that, together with the Civic Guard, had beaten back German patrols from