The 2nd of September is Sedan Day, and in 1914 it was celebrated as never before.  A great parade was scheduled, a parade which would show German prowess.  Though I arrived in “Unter den Linden” two hours before the procession was due, I could not get anywhere near the broad central avenue down which it would pass.  I chartered a taxi which had foundered in the throng, and perched on top.  The Government, always attentive to the patriotic education of the children, had given special orders for such occasions.  The little ones were brought to the front by the police, and boys were even permitted to climb the sacred Linden trees that they might better see what the Fatherland had done.

The triumphal column entered through the Kaiser Arch of the Brandenburger Tor, and bedlam broke loose during the passing of the captured cannon of Russia, France, and Belgium—­these last cast by German workmen at Essen and fired by Belgian artillerists against German soldiers at Liege.

The gates of Paris!  Then the clear-cut German official reports became vague for a few days about the West, but had much of Hindenburg and victory in the East.  Democracies wash their dirty linen in public, while absolute governments tuck theirs out of sight, where it usually disappears, but sometimes unexpectedly develops spontaneous combustion.

Nobody—­outside of the little circle—­questioned the delay in entering Paris.  Everything was going according to plan, was the saying.  I suppose sheep entertain a somewhat similar attitude when their leader conducts them over a precipice.  Antwerp must be taken first—­that was the key to Paris and London.  Such was the gossip when the scene was once more set in Belgium, and the great Skoda mortars pulverised forts which on paper were impregnable.  Many a time during the first days of October I left my glass of beer or cup of tea half finished and rushed from cafe and restaurant with the crowd to see if the newspaper criers of headlines were announcing the fall of the fortress on the Scheldt, How those people discussed the terms of the coming early peace, terms which were not by any means easy!  Berlin certainly had its thumbs turned down on the rest of Europe.

With two other Americans I sat with a group of prosperous Berliners in their luxurious club.  Waiters moved noiselessly over costly rugs and glasses clinked, while these men seriously discussed the probable terms Germany would soon impose on a conquered continent.  Belgium would, of course, be incorporated into the German Empire, and Antwerp would be the chief outlet for Germany’s commerce—­and how that commerce would soon boom at the expense of Great Britain!  France would now have an opportunity to develop her socialistic experiments, as she would be permitted to maintain only a very small army.  The mistake of 1870 must not be repeated.  This time there would be no paltry levy of five billion francs.  A great German Empire would rise on the ruins of the British.  Commercial gain was the theme.  I did not gather from the conversation that anybody but Germany would be a party to the peace.