According to the first war-news poster issued in Brussels, a few days after the enemy had entered the town, the French official papers had declared that “The French armies, being thrown on the defensive, would not be able to help Belgium in an offensive movement.”  I need not recall how, his name having been used at Liege to bolster up this false report, M. Max, the burgomaster of Brussels, found an opportunity of contradicting it publicly and, at the same time, of discrediting all censored news.

The effect was amazing.  Henceforth the official posters were not only regularly regarded as a tissue of lies, but definitely ridiculed.  The people either ignored them or paid them an exaggerated attention.  In some popular quarters, urchins climbed on ladders to read them aloud to a jeering crowd.  The influence of M. Max’s attitude was such that, eighteen months later, several people coming from the capital declared that, as far as war news was concerned, Brussels was far more optimistic than London or Paris, every check received by the Allied armies being systematically ignored and every success exaggerated.

When one reads through the series of German “Communications” pasted on the walls of the capital during the first year of the occupation, one wonders how they did not succeed in discouraging the population.  For, in spite of some extraordinary blunders—­such as the announcement that a German squadron had captured fifteen English fishing boats (September 8th, 1914), that the Serbs had taken Semlin because they had nothing more to eat in Serbia (September 13th, 1914), or that the British army was so badly equipped that the soldiers lacked boot-laces and writing paper (October 6th, 1914)—­the author of these proclamations succeeded so skilfully in mixing truth and untruth and in drawing the attention of the public away from any reverse suffered by the Central Empires, that the effect of the campaign might have been most demoralizing.

After this first reverse, the Germans only attacked the Allies in order to throw on their shoulders the responsibility for the woes which they themselves were inflicting on their victims.  When some English aeroplanes visited Brussels, on September 26th, 1915, a few people were killed and many more wounded.  The German press declared immediately that this was due to the want of skill of the airmen, who dropped the bombs indiscriminately over the town.  We possess now material proof that the people were killed, not by bombs dropped from the air, but by fragments of shells fired from guns.  This can only be explained in one way.  The German gunners must have timed their shells so that they should not burst in the air, but only when falling on the ground.  This method of propaganda may cost a few lives, but it is certainly clever.  It might well be calculated to stir indignation in the hearts of the people against the Allies and at the same time to serve as a warning to enemy headquarters to the effect:  “Whenever you send your aeroplanes over Belgian towns, we are going to make the population pay for it.”