Drop Cap T

THE winter of 1916-17 proved more trying even than that preceding it. After the tyres were taken, came a demand for copper, and everyone was ordered to convey to central depÔts all the specified articles he possessed in this metal.

This meant, for Belgians, not only the deprivation of kitchen utensils and other things necessary to a household, but, even more bitter, it meant providing the enemy with material to slaughter brothers and friends. Consequently every means was resorted to to avoid obedience, without incurring the drastic punishment promised all who resisted. Copper was hidden under floors, in carefully-replastered and repapered walls, under the earth in gardens and under coal in cellars—all such things as were then demanded, but, alas! not those demanded a short time later.

Treacherous servants rendered this defiance more perilous, as no one was sure not to be sold by a trusted butler or valet. The butler of one woman we knew had been with her for twenty years; and to him, as her husband and sons were at the front, she confided not only the hiding of copper but the fact that a younger son with her aid had crossed the frontier. He rewarded her confidence by insolently ignoring his position as servant and assuming an attitude of equality with her. Every order she gave was referred to another servant, while the butler sat comfortably in the drawing-room, smoking cigarettes in her presence! We ourselves were obliged to unearth our carefully buried copper at midnight and rebury it in another place owing to the dismissal of a gardener who had assisted at the first interment! Not that he threatened to betray us, and more than likely he would not have done so, but the consequences were too serious to risk.

Examples were made of those found to have hidden their copper, who not only had every particle of the metal taken, but in some cases were pillaged of all valuables, fined, and imprisoned. Neutrals were not exempt, and a story was told me of a Swiss family who offered resistance when their home was invaded by armed soldiers. After ordering the men out, they threatened to send for Belgian police, and were at once subjected to the most abominable treatment. Every ornament, lock, and door-handle of brass or copper was wrenched off; chandeliers were ruthlessly dragged from the ceilings; and the soldiers, after causing general havoc, announced, on departing, that a van would come the following day to take away piano, pictures, and other things of value. I cannot say if this threat was carried out, nor can I vouch for the story, as it came to me third-hand. But I myself witnessed one of these plundering raids, when a Belgian’s house was entirely gutted, and can relate the experience of a Greek family told me by the daughter, whom I knew well. They too, as neutrals, ignored the order to deliver their household goods, and, since they had not attempted to conceal them, were astounded when the soldiers arrived.

“Why do you come to us who are in no way implicated in the war?” demanded the Hellenic matron; and the plunderer replied: “That is of no consequence; all must obey, neutral or not neutral! We need the copper, that is enough.”

“But I need it too!” argued the lady. “What am I to do without my pots and kettles? It’s an outrage to treat Greeks as you do your enemies!”

“Greeks!” roared the soldier; “what have the Greeks done for us? If they are not fighting us to-day, they will be to-morrow!”

“But we are really your allies!” ventured the lady, changing her tactics; “although Greek by birth, my husband is a Turk by adoption.”

“Good!” was the reply. “If you are our allies you should yield everything without a murmur, and should have done so long ago. Since you have not done this, which it was your duty to do, we shall take everything you possess in copper or brass—even your ornaments!”

And they did! There were few Belgian houses more thoroughly robbed of the desired metal than was the house of these pretended German allies!

The ever-dreaded visits from soldiers were like swords of Damocles hanging over our heads. No one dared leave his house for any length of time, for fear of returning to find it ransacked and looted, and himself perhaps under arrest because a forgotten Times or other forbidden literature had been discovered. An innocent conscience did little to allay this fear, as many persons were imprisoned on the slightest excuse. Even when liberated later, they had every detail pried into of their private life, correspondence, and financial circumstances, besides being held in close confinement and intense suspense for two or three weeks, often much longer.

One entire family we know, a family of high standing in Brussels, was arrested upon suspicion, not excepting the delicate mother. She was confined in a cell for seven weeks, pending investigation—which failed to find any proof of guilt on her part or that of the others. Neither they nor anyone knew why they were seized, save that the son was suspected of having received or passed on the Libre Belgique. After a trial that led to no definite verdict of guilt the family was liberated, but obliged to pay a fine of twenty thousand marks!

Not only were suspected persons arrested, but their close friends and everyone who innocently happened to call at their homes after, or at the time of their arrest.

In the offices of a business friend of ours, an employÉ failed to appear one morning, and a young girl typewriter was sent to his house to learn the reason of his absence. As she did not reappear, another employÉ was sent in quest of her, who also did not return. In the afternoon the typewriter’s mother came to inquire why her daughter had not gone home for dinner at midday; and, on being told whither the latter had gone, she hastened to the absent clerk’s house, fearing some calamity had befallen the girl. When she too failed to return, our friend’s mystification became apprehension. He appealed to the police, who informed him all had been arrested as possible accomplices of the suspected clerk, who was afterwards proven quite innocent, and liberated.

Such circumstances naturally kept everyone in a state of nervous tension.

A rather interesting and significant fact in regard to these raids was the change of demeanour shown by those obliged to do this work during the second copper requisition in the autumn of 1917. These men were late recruits, usually young fellows, dragged from honourable occupations to serve their bitter time in the trenches, and forced to perform this distasteful service during intervals of rest. At the house of an acquaintance of ours two soldiers of this type very politely asked permission to search for copper, entered, looked about in a half-hearted manner; then, after grunting, “S’gut; hier gibts nichts,” said they were very tired, and asked permission, which was granted, to lie on two sofas in a back sitting-room and sleep for half an hour!

Our place was raided at this period by two such tired lads, fresh from the trenches and expecting to return to action in a few days.

When they first entered one assumed an autocratic manner, made rather ludicrous by his frail physique and boyish countenance; but, after we exchanged with him a few words in his native tongue, this bearing disappeared. The two looked through the house indifferently, and, as all metal such as they sought had been hidden, found nothing. They kindly hinted, however, that some brass beds and gas-heating installations would be taken at a later raid should they be found there!—a hint we acted upon at once. Some few articles of silver remained in the dining-room for daily use;—the rest was secreted, as many families, on one excuse or another, had already been robbed of their silverware. One, a finely-worked fruit-dish, purchased as solid silver and, as we thought, not likely to be seized, because of the workmanship, was subjected to a damaging filing process which revealed it as heavily plated on copper. Although the amount of copper contained was certainly too insignificant to be worth having, the fruit-stand was claimed, and noted on a card to be called for later. However, it was hidden, and one of less artistic value set in its place before that predicted call!

It is only fair to conjecture that many instances of inexcusable brutality to which the Belgians were subjected were caused by a stupid fear, on the soldiers’ part, of not strictly obeying orders, rather than by any individual wish to cause pain; although in some cases it was quite the opposite.

During the first year of war a rather amusing incident occurred as proof of this. At that time certain neutral business men were allowed to go to and return from Holland by motor. They were provided with special passes. Two friends of mine, who were associated in business, usually made the trip together. But despite their possession of passes signed and stamped by the German Government, they were held up at the frontier, and subjected to galling examination and insolence by a new batch of officials lately installed. As these unnecessary and lengthy delays greatly impeded my friend’s affairs, he complained at headquarters. But the Prussian chiefs could not be persuaded that he was not exaggerating the difficulties, and, after assuring him his passes would serve him better in future, put the matter out of mind.

Nevertheless, on his next trip my friend and his companion experienced the same detention and bullying at the hands of these frontier officials.

The former again complained; and, as his word was still doubted, asked that an officer in civil dress might accompany him on his next trip and witness for himself what took place.

This being granted, he, with his associate, and a young Prussian officer, disguised in plain clothes, drove together to the frontier. On arriving there they were—as usual—held up, ordered to leave the car, and enter a bare waiting-room. Here their papers were taken from them, and, while the officials in charge disappeared on pretence of examining these, they were left sitting in the cold compartment, guarded by two armed soldiers.

One quarter of an hour passed in silence; their accompanying officer made no comment. But when more than twenty minutes went by without the least sign of deliverance, he became restive, glanced at his watch several times, and looked black. Moments had stretched to close upon an hour when the disguised military chief, having until now shown the self-control of discipline, brought his clenched hand heavily down on the wooden table by which he sat, and exclaimed loud, “Aber, das ist unverschÄmt! What the devil are those men——”

Before he could finish the sentence, one of the soldiers on guard seized him, bellowing, “What’s that? You speak insolently of German officials? Good! We’ll soon teach you manners!”

At a sign, the other soldier approached; the two burly creatures grasped their helpless superior before he could utter a word, and dragged him to an outstanding lock-up house, where, thrusting him into a corner, they proceeded with their punishment, two against one, striking him even in the face with their brutal fists, and permitting him no chance to speak.

The officials, attracted by the loud voices and scuffle, reappeared just after the enlightened German had been dragged out.

“Was ist los?” demanded one, looking about.

“Your men are about to kill that chap out there,” said my friend, who, with his companion, galled as they were by the unfairness of the attack, had refrained from interfering. To have done so would have expressed contempt of military discipline; moreover, they were secretly pleased that the officer should have his eyes morally opened, if physically closed, by blows intended for a civilian guilty only of an impatient exclamation!

“Ach!” returned the official, shrugging his shoulders; “if they are beating him he deserves it!—that’s our orders. We submit to no resistance here!”

“Very good,” returned my friend; “but have you looked at that man’s papers? Do you know who he is?”

“Bah! What’s that to me?” returned the surly brute, who held the still unexamined passes in his hand. “Our discipline is indifferent to rank; he may be who he may!”

“If you glance at his papers you may think differently;—he is Lieutenant von ——, aide-de-camp to General von ——.”

The official stared; his mouth fell open. “Eh?” he articulated in his throat, too astounded to utter a word; then, nervously dropping other papers to the floor, he sought the officer’s pass, read the signature, and, followed by his colleague and the others, rushed for the lock-up house. It was then that my friend saw the helpless lieutenant, pressed into a corner, being brutally pommelled by the two soldiers.

Poor man! he was a sight to behold when he joined them later—nose distorted, one eye swollen and blackening, and several ugly cuts on his face. He said very little when rejoining his companions; but, judging by the meek demeanour of the bully officials, some truths had been told them they were not likely to forget, which made it clear they would pay dearly for carrying their habitual abuse of authority into the wrong camp!

The lieutenant, as they pursued their journey, could not refrain from smiling at the comic side of the affair. He appeared, however, morally shocked, and the few remarks he made suggested this significance: “The German man is a brute at heart!” When in authority, he certainly appears so, especially when endowed with military power—the sacred fetish of his race!

It was under the constant menace of similar treatment that the inhabitants of occupied Belgium existed. Galled by pitiless impositions; denied all freedom of action or word; robbed and deprived even of home privacy; spied upon and never knowing on what false charge one might be arrested, one could do nothing but endure. Rebellion would have been unavailing against armed forces, and only cause additional misery to others.

One of the pathetic sights of the “copper winter” was to see well-dressed women carrying some treasured object in copper or brass, concealed in a neat package, to be buried in some friend’s garden. Even sadder was it to view the military depÔts for the collection of household necessities or ornaments. Bronze statues (one Belgian, with pleasure, sent a bronze bust of the Kaiser—which was returned to him), gas-fixtures, handles of doors and bureaus, clocks, stair-rods, curtain-bars, etc., were hurled, pell-mell, in a great heap before the grieving eyes of those despoiled, who were paid four francs a kilo for the metal, in whatever beautiful and artistic form. And these things—the sole fortune of many—were to be utilized to slay their husbands, brothers, fathers, and sons! No wonder every effort was made to defy the command, and that some even melted their things rather than yield them!

This the enemy failed to understand. With native lack of sensitiveness for other people’s feelings, the Germans argued that, as Germany had made the sacrifice, Belgians should do so as readily! That was always their reply to appeals for consideration. They appeared quite blind to the fallacy of such reasoning, but took pains to announce in their home papers the Belgians were selling their copper in order to buy food!

That autumn became a season of secret interments, for not only copper but certain preserved edibles were buried to escape the vampire’s greed, and in anticipation of the famine obviously approaching. What the Alimentation Commission provided was so little for each individual that hunger reigned generally, not only among those who depended wholly on charity. The latter, indeed, were better off than many British women and others formerly well-to-do; and everyone who could sought to lay by something for a still more trying hour.

These silent midnight burial-parties were not devoid of a comic side, despite their pathetic object. Whole families gathered in the dark of their gardens, busy about a yawning grave, wherein a red-glazed lantern afforded dim light invisible from the surface. No word was spoken by the shadowy forms consigning food and treasure to the earth’s faithful keeping. All was done in silent haste, in order that every suspicious trace might be obliterated before dawn. Bushes and even small trees were planted above the graves, and stood innocently smiling in autumn leaf when the sun arose!

Food grew daily scarcer and dearer. With the entrance of the United States into the war it seemed as though Belgium was doomed to famine. The laying up of provisions that could not be buried, even by those who could afford it, was dangerous, since they were forbidden, and could not be concealed from the prying eyes of soldiers likely at any moment to enter our houses. Consequently the winter of ’17-’18, with a great scarcity of coal and the probability of being deprived of gas, was looked forward to with dread.

During the summer every patch of ground, even road-edgings, was cultivated. Vacant fields were divided into small patches and given to the poor to till and plant; potatoes especially were grown, for during the preceding winter there had been a great dearth of this mainstay of the poorer classes. Now, however, it was not only the indigent who feared starvation. The well-to-do and even the rich anticipated being deprived not only of the better edibles to which they were accustomed, but even of necessities. Consequently flower-beds and lawns of private estates were tilled to raise potatoes, beans, sprouts, etc. Our own croquet-ground was converted into a potato-patch; the rose-garden produced cabbages, onions, and beets, while the tennis-court netting served to support climbing beans! But ill-fortune made that summer, in regard to weather, the worst Belgium could remember for many years, as the winter before had been one of the most severe. Continual rain destroyed a large proportion of the potatoes and greatly injured other crops.

It was pitiable to see farmers who, deprived of their horses,—for the Germans had taken all,—had tilled their fields, foot by foot, with spades (the more fortunate with slow and stubborn oxen), and had laboured from dawn till dark to make them flourish, gazing in wide-eyed despair upon acres of rain-blackened rye or blight-ruined potatoes. As the Germans claimed a large percentage of all produce, this misfortune raised the price of ordinary vegetables, poor as they were, so high that only the rich could afford them. The poor were obliged to subsist on the two potatoes a day per head which—until their stock was exhausted—the “National Alimentation Committee” [1] provided.

Not far from us, on a narrow strip of grass-land bordering a wood, two poor women “whose husbands were fighting” had planted vegetables for their own use during the winter. They were mothers of several small children, but despite this care and their household duties, they were at work there at the first glimmer of day. They went home only at midday to procure the charity soup and warm it for their children, then returned to labour until dark. It seemed impossible that anything could thrive in such a shadowed place, but a weak crop of potatoes, cabbages, and beans presently appeared, only to be partly destroyed by rain, while much of what survived was stolen later by those who had no land to cultivate.

However, after the roots had begun to form and until the potatoes were ripe, these women never left the spot unguarded. One or the other remained there the entire day and night, rain or shine, as did all who had unprotected ground. They erected a primitive sort of shelter, composed of every conceivable thing they could find: bits of rusty tin and old carpets, for the most part, as wood was too dear and too much needed for fuel. Ah, they suffered, these people!—suffered as no one can understand who did not see their daily struggle to live. Young and old women went tramping for hours and days through the woods to gather dry twigs and bear them home in great bundles on their backs;—not only the usual poor wretch, whose patient drudgery so well serves the landscape-painter, but many women who were formerly in comfortable circumstances, now blue with cold and pinched with hunger, trudged through the rain-oozing dead leaves of the woods.

Later, they went entirely without shoes, for all leather was taken by the Germans; and until wooden sabots could be produced in sufficient numbers to meet the demand, women and children were to be seen with their feet shod only by bits of carpet and often without stockings. Their patience under these miserable conditions was extraordinary. When told they could have no coal, they made no murmur, but set out to gather twigs as though realizing the uselessness of rebellion, and only impelled by an instinctive impulse of self-preservation.

Many hundreds of trees were felled each winter for exportation and other German uses, and the poor swarmed where this was done, waiting eagerly until each superb tree crashed to earth, when they swooped down upon it, like hungry vultures, each securing what he could of the lesser branches, to ensure him some warmth during the cold months.

These hapless creatures, terrified by the approach of another season of bitter winds, ice, and snow, gradually became desperate, and were ready to commit any crime to obtain food and fuel. Stealing became more and more common, especially from landed peasants who, owing to the high prices they demanded for their produce, were looked upon as legitimate prey. To some extent this was deserved; but the peasant, after working his very life into the soil, was obliged to resign so much of his crops to the Germans that he would have gained nothing had he sold at normal prices. Potatoes, even in September of this year (1917), were selling at three francs fifty and four francs a kilo, butter at thirty francs rising to forty-eight later, sugar at twelve rising to twenty, coffee at ninety, tea at one hundred and more, while eggs rapidly mounted from seventy-five centimes to two francs sixty each; flour, outside the 250 grams allowed for bread, was unobtainable. The ComitiÉ National provided certain edibles at a low price, but hardly sufficient for each individual to keep body and soul together.

I was told by one of those who assisted in the difficult and arduous task of dividing the shiploads sent over from the United States and elsewhere, that supplies had to be calculated, most minutely, to the last box of matches, in order that each individual in all parts of ravaged Belgium should have a share. Their labours were of incalculable worth, and are not likely ever to be adequately estimated.

As for coal, which the Germans were shipping from Belgium in great quantities to their own country, or exchanging for other commodities, with Switzerland and other countries, it was only to be had through the accapareurs. These went on foot with push-carts to Charleroi, or were conveyed there by any wretched beasts they could find, and bribed the German sentinels to let them return with small amounts of coal, for which they demanded two hundred and fifty francs and more a ton. Even at this price it was under weight, and mingled with dust and stones. The use of gas was consequently greatly restricted. In September an Avis announced an increase in its price and a still more trying limitation, the exceeding of which would be punished by entire deprivation, not to mention a heavy fine. Buildings occupied by Germans, however, were stated to be exempt from these restrictions.

The occupying powers seized everything they wanted. The entire contents of dry-goods and other ware-shops were requisitioned; food-stores, when not deliberately stolen, were bought up in bulk by the officers, and sent home to their families in Germany. Even the shooting of the game with which the woodlands about Brussels were well stocked was forbidden to all save the army. The Bois and adjacent woods resounded, during the shooting season, with the report of German hunting-pieces destroying partridge and pheasant preserves, and that even on private property; but a young Belgian lad, caught poaching not far from the place where we lived, was shot in the act and left where he fell.

These men with guns cared little for the sufferings of the unarmed and famished people under their control, and found it easier to punish petty opposition to their laws of greed by a bullet than by trial or imprisonment. Their victims were numerous. One boy, whose family I knew, was shot and badly wounded for trying to smuggle from the country two kilos of potatoes, not for sale, but for the needs of his family.

Naturally, such conditions led in time to dishonesty. The people became desperate, and, finding they could secure food by risking their lives, presently developed the idea of gaining fortune by the same means. Reckless of an existence so rife with misery, they became more daring; and then it was that the accapareurs appeared, by whose courage and clever trickery the rich, at least, were provided with edibles that would otherwise have gone to Germany. These petty smugglers (not the great ones, who cornered large quantities of food-stuffs and concealed them against the hour of dearth) were, in a way, a God-send to those who could afford to pay their prices; but their morals suffered further degeneration when greater numbers adopted this scheme for rapid money-making. Their gains, however, were not easily won, as they were obliged to walk many miles during the night in all sorts of weather, to escape the German sentinels who guarded the city limits and took all butter, eggs, potatoes, etc., discovered on the smugglers. The latter concealed their wares most ingeniously, often in a manner not appetizing to reflect upon. Butter was packed about their bodies under their clothing, eggs were securely secreted in their hats, and potatoes were carried in sacks under the women’s skirts and also in their blouses. For the smuggling of grain a complete suit was worn, so arranged with pockets, that the grain was distributed over the entire body. But the cleverest device was that of a man who bribed a German soldier to sit with him on his donkey-cart and, pretending he was under arrest, brought in a thousand francs’ worth of butter and eggs on one journey!

During that winter, when the enemy, menaced by defeat in the west, was planning a new and desperate offensive, unhappy Belgium saw her oppressed and hungry people degenerating into criminals. The better sort remained loyal to their proud standard of honour before all, but the destitute lower classes, physically enervated and morally sickened, came gradually to look with contempt upon principles so cynically ignored by those who governed them.

They saw rich and poor alike robbed with no adequate excuse, saw the country’s wealth carried to Germany merely to enrich their enemies.

Even stud-farms were despoiled of those horses that had been the nation’s pride, such as the cheval de trait, bred with care, through many, many generations, to attain a point of perfection unequalled in any other part of the world. Those superb Belgian horses were taken, not for army use, but to be sold in Germany—as was announced later on in a German paper. And not only the young animals, but champion stallions and mares, especially those which were pregnant, were seized in opposition to the appeals of their owners. To these appeals and to the argument that it was understood that the occupying army should take nothing not essential, von Bissing replied that, circumstances being changed, the German Government was no longer bound to respect its agreements: (“Les circonstances s’Étant modifiÉes le gouvernement allemand n’Était plus en mesure de respecter ses engagements”). The “circumstances” amounted to this—that Germany had the country helplessly in her grip, and, foreseeing final victory, could fearlessly throw more “scraps of paper” into the face of her hapless victim!

A German bank commissary, an officer, entered the business house of a prominent Brussels firm and desired information concerning certain transactions. After an hour or two of investigation, he withdrew, saying he would return presently to complete his work. Inadvertently he left his portfolio behind, and the temptation to look into it was not resisted by those who thus had a chance to learn something of Germany’s secret devices regarding Belgium. On examining its contents, they found a list of all the foremost business associations in Brussels, with exact details as to their management, financial standing, and relations with the outside world; also the director of each was mentioned by name and estimated in regard to his influence and worth.

The important foreign interests of the firm in question were set forth, accompanied by a statement that it would be greatly to Germany’s advantage to obtain control of the organization.

This was told me by one of the firm’s head managers, who added: “It goes without saying we made good use of this chance enlightenment in order to foil German designs.”

These intrusions into business houses were of daily occurrence, but, in some cases, clever foresight rendered them of little avail to the subtle intriguers.

In one instance, that of the Public Utilities Company, “La FinanciÈre,” sixty-five million francs’ worth of Allied securities (the major part of which were owned by British subjects) were saved by the general manager’s sagacity. At the beginning of 1915, two German officers, accompanied by twelve armed men, entered “La FinanciÈre” building in quest of these securities, which they had been informed, through some unknown source, were preserved there. The soldiers were posted in all corridors to prevent any attempt to escape the seizure by employÉs passing from one office room to another—a trick resorted to by others on more than one occasion of perquisition! The general manager, Mr. D. Heineman, an American, was then called, and bidden by the officers to submit his books and vaults for examination. This he did without the least hesitancy, having already—in anticipation of such a visit—altered his books and removed the securities to a vault, in the same building, sufficiently camouflaged to defy detection.

When the officers failed to find any trace of the desired deposits they expressed surprise, and affirmed they had learned, on good authority, such securities were held by the house. Mr. Heineman replied the information was quite correct, but, as could be seen by his books, the securities had been removed from Belgium at a certain prior date.

Meanwhile dishonesty increased in the lower ranks. Even those employed in the food organization filched sugar, rice, flour, etc., which they sold secretly at enormous prices. Certain personal experiences may illustrate the crafty ingenuity which prolonged sorrow and deprivation gradually developed among the common people—occasionally, too, among those of the better class, obliged for the first time in their lives to suffer the degrading pangs of want.

Fruit, although there was plenty in the country, was shipped away in such quantities that the inhabitants could only indulge in it as an expensive luxury. One day, when I discovered a pushcart piled high with nice-looking apples, at a price far lower than that demanded at the market, I ordered five kilos to be taken home and paid for on delivery. The youth who, with his mother, tended the cart agreed to deliver them if his tram fare were paid in advance. As he had some distance to go, this was willingly done, and a written line given him for our butler, bidding him pay for the fruit at the stated price. I then went on to visit a friend, who, on learning of the apples, immediately wanted some and we set forth to revisit the cart.

We had, however, gone only a few yards, when I was astonished to see the pushcart, attended by both the youth and his mother, standing before a house a few doors below that of my friend, where they were selling fruit.

“What does this mean?” I asked the youth. “You have not taken the apples to my house!”

The young rascal, who had counted on never seeing me again, hung his head, and murmured with seeming penitence, “Ah, I beg your pardon, but it was so far to go, and I could not leave my poor mother to push the cart alone.”

Although the best of the apples were now sold—for all save those on top were miserable things—we each ordered five kilos of the fruit to be delivered at my friend’s house. To obviate any more trickery we remained by the cart while this was done, and only paid after seeing the apples taken in by a servant; then went on to enjoy an unusually lovely afternoon in the Bois, sure of having made a good enough bargain, even though the fruit secured was only fit for cooking.

But my friend, on returning home an hour or so later, discovered we had been worsted after all!

After waiting until we were out of sight, the fruit-sellers went back to the house, and, presenting the pencilled line I had given and failed to reclaim, stated that we had decided to purchase all the remaining apples, at the price mentioned in the note. Consequently, twenty odd kilos of remnant fruit, such as no one else would buy, were landed at my friend’s house at a price more than double their worth!

On another occasion, when butter was unprocurable even at thirty francs a kilo, two peasant-women came to our house with butter smuggled in from the country, which they offered at twenty francs a kilo. Eager as we were for it, but made cautious by experience, we insisted upon tasting before buying. The women readily opened one package, and, on finding it excellent, we agreed to take all they had—five kilos; but, to prevent possible deception, we sampled each package, all of which were equally good. We therefore joyously paid the price, and, after contracting for more butter, and a quantity of eggs to be delivered the following week, dismissed the women with our blessings and sincere gratitude.

But, alackaday! when those glorious loaves of yellow butter were being prepared an hour later for preservation, they were discovered to be merely masses of filthy fat surrounding a large betterave, which made up the weight, the whole cleverly covered with a thin layer of good butter. Needless to say, the women never returned, and as it was strictly forbidden to buy peddled butter, we could do nothing but grin and bear it.

These fraudulent geniuses were products of the war, and no one who witnessed the pain they bravely endured, for three years and more, can justly condemn them.

And it was not only the poor who were driven to desperation by the enemy’s robbery. Everyone, save the very rich, or the Barons Zeep—the so-called soap-barons who made fortunes in secret relation with the Germans—was reduced to hard straits. Clothing became impossible to procure. Fashionable women were obliged to dye their linen sheets for summer wear, their blankets and curtains for winter; while club-men, in shiny trousers and frayed cuffs, were wont to exchange laughing comparisons as to the condition of their other wearing apparel, one likening his oft-patched pyjamas to Jacob’s coat of many colours!

A pathetic instance of this dire need came to my notice one day as I was trying to coax a farmer in the open fields to sell me potatoes—for there was no other means of obtaining this article of food save by buying surreptitiously, smuggling it home under cover of night, and burying it underground.

While I was talking to the farmer, an elderly man slowly passed us—a man evidently of good birth, whose clothes, though worn and shabby, showed the cut of a good tailor. Soon after he had passed, the farmer abruptly checked what he was saying to me and, with sullen eyes directed toward another part of his acres, muttered, “Look at that! They are all thieves, even the aristocrats!”

I looked, and saw the man referred to tugging frantically to uproot a carrot!

The farmer uttered a loud and angry cry, which interrupted his efforts. He rose without haste, and moved slowly away, his stick held dejectedly behind him.

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