revolvers still in uncomfortable proximity to my skull, the police then took me
… by taxi to the central police court. There our treatment became more
courteous, and after we had made our statements and shown our passports we
were dismissed, with a note insuring protection. But as a scrap of paper seemed
insufficient insurance against the fury of a mob inflamed, as German, British,
French, and all mobs then were by the raging patriotism of war, I demanded to
be sent back protected as I had come. So back in a taxi I was sent … protected
by only one policeman, who kept his revolver in a more respectful position, and
convoyed me to the backdoor of the hotel … I slept as best I could, and next
morning I went about the city purchasing a few necessary things. All was quiet,
and life seemed going on much as usual but for the excited crowds gathered
round the newspaper offices, and the removal of all English and French names
from the shops and banks … In the evening, however, I received a kindly
invitation from Sir Edward Goschen to come into the Embassy … I gladly
went, and was welcomed with amazing courtesy.
Before dawn on August 6th, a string of motors was waiting outside the
Embassy, sent by the Kaiser’s orders to convey the Ambassador and his staff to
a local station … Again, by the courtesy of Sir Edward Goschen, a few of us
correspondents were invited to join the staff, and I hardly realized at the time
from what a hideous destiny that invitation preserved me. I suppose I should
have been kept shut up in Ruhleben or some similar camp for four and a half
years … But … our Ambassador saved me, and for twenty-four hours his train
carried us all slowly lumbering through North Germany to the Dutch frontier.
On our way we passed … uncounted vans decorated with boughs of trees and
crammed with reservists going to the Belgian front. The men had now chalked
‘Nach Bruxelles’ or ‘Nach London’ as well as ‘Nach Paris’ on the vans … At all
the larger stations, too, the news of our train’s approach had been signalled, and
to cheer us on our way all the old men, boys and women of the place had flocked
down with any musical instruments they could collect, and, standing thick on
the platform, they played for us the German national tunes … Sometimes, to
impress their patriotism more distinctly upon us, they brought their instruments
close up to the carriage windows, and the shitting tubes of the trombones came
right into the carriage. Silent and unmoved, as an Englishman should, sat Sir
Edward Goschen, looking steadily in front of him, with hands on his knees,
making as though no sight or sound had reached his senses …
14 Robert’s War 1914–1918
275
… by taxi to the central police court. There our treatment became more
courteous, and after we had made our statements and shown our passports we
were dismissed, with a note insuring protection. But as a scrap of paper seemed
insufficient insurance against the fury of a mob inflamed, as German, British,
French, and all mobs then were by the raging patriotism of war, I demanded to
be sent back protected as I had come. So back in a taxi I was sent … protected
by only one policeman, who kept his revolver in a more respectful position, and
convoyed me to the backdoor of the hotel … I slept as best I could, and next
morning I went about the city purchasing a few necessary things. All was quiet,
and life seemed going on much as usual but for the excited crowds gathered
round the newspaper offices, and the removal of all English and French names
from the shops and banks … In the evening, however, I received a kindly
invitation from Sir Edward Goschen to come into the Embassy … I gladly
went, and was welcomed with amazing courtesy.
Before dawn on August 6th, a string of motors was waiting outside the
Embassy, sent by the Kaiser’s orders to convey the Ambassador and his staff to
a local station … Again, by the courtesy of Sir Edward Goschen, a few of us
correspondents were invited to join the staff, and I hardly realized at the time
from what a hideous destiny that invitation preserved me. I suppose I should
have been kept shut up in Ruhleben or some similar camp for four and a half
years … But … our Ambassador saved me, and for twenty-four hours his train
carried us all slowly lumbering through North Germany to the Dutch frontier.
On our way we passed … uncounted vans decorated with boughs of trees and
crammed with reservists going to the Belgian front. The men had now chalked
‘Nach Bruxelles’ or ‘Nach London’ as well as ‘Nach Paris’ on the vans … At all
the larger stations, too, the news of our train’s approach had been signalled, and
to cheer us on our way all the old men, boys and women of the place had flocked
down with any musical instruments they could collect, and, standing thick on
the platform, they played for us the German national tunes … Sometimes, to
impress their patriotism more distinctly upon us, they brought their instruments
close up to the carriage windows, and the shitting tubes of the trombones came
right into the carriage. Silent and unmoved, as an Englishman should, sat Sir
Edward Goschen, looking steadily in front of him, with hands on his knees,
making as though no sight or sound had reached his senses …
14 Robert’s War 1914–1918
275