We mothers of Belgium no less than the mothers of America have for generations instilled in our children the instincts and the love of peace. We asked no greater boon than to live in peace and friendship with all the world. We have provoked no war, yet in defense of our hearthstones, our country has been laid waste from end to end.
The flow of commerce has ceased and my people are faced with famine. The terrors of starvation with its consequences of disease and violence menace the unoffending civilian population--the aged, the infirm, the women and the children.
American officials and citizens in Belgium and England, alive to their country's traditions, have created an organization under the protection of their government and are already sending food to my people. I hope that they may receive the fullest sympathy and aid from every side.
I need not say that I and my people shall always hold in grateful remembrance the proven friendship of America in this hour of need.
_Brussels, Sunday, December 20, 1914_--Jack got off to London yesterday after a visit of six weeks. Had it not been for the nearness of Christmas and the knowledge that he was needed at home, he would have been prepared to stay on indefinitely. His grief at leaving was genuine. He invested heavily in flowers and chocolates for the people who had been nice to him, endowed all the servants, and left amid the cheers and sobs of the populace. He is a good sort, and I was sorry to see him go. By this time he is probably sitting up in London, telling them all about it.
To-day I went up to Antwerp to bring back our old motor. Left a little before noon, after tidying up my desk, and took my two Spanish colleagues, San Esteban and Molina, along for company. I had the passes and away we went by way of Malines, arriving in time for a late lunch.
Antwerp is completely Germanised already. We heard hardly a word of French anywhere--even the hotel waiters speaking only hotel French. The crowd in the restaurant of the Webber was exclusively German, and there was not a word of French on the menu.
The Germans took over the garage where our car was left the day they came in, and there I discovered what was left of the old machine. The sentries on guard at the door reluctantly let us in, and the poor proprietor of the garage led us to the place where our car has stood since the fall of Antwerp. The soldiers have removed two of the tires, the lamps, cushions, extra wheels, speedometer, tail lights, tool box, and had smashed most of the other fixings they could not take off. In view of the fact that my return trip to Brussels at the time of the bombardment was for the purpose of bringing the plans of the city to the Germans, so that they would have knowledge of the location of the public monuments and could spare them, it seems rather rough that they should repay us by smashing our motor. I think we shall make some remarks to them to this effect to-morrow, and intimate that it is up to them to have the car repaired and returned to us in good shape.