CHANGES.
When our minds, bewildered by the unexpected course which affairs had
taken, fully comprehended that the country was at war, a feeling of
dismay and terror, never before experienced, took possession of all.
Suitable measures were adopted for the safety of the children under our
care, to whom the usual prizes were distributed on the first Sunday in
August, a week before the ordinary time of vacation. Permission was also
given them to return to their homes the following day. All necessary
preparations were made as quickly as possible, and early next morning
the boarders, accompanied by one or more Sisters, departed in groups to
their homes in the surrounding cities and towns.
The parochial and public schools of the village continued in session for
a few days, as the children were all residents, and no immediate danger
was anticipated.
Subsequently, while the train containing a party of our pupils en route
for Mechelen (Malines) was steaming on at full speed, it was hailed by a
troop of Belgian soldiers, and instantly slackened up. All passengers
were obliged to alight and, with satchels and small baggage in hand, had
to make their way to the city as best they could, a walk of an hour or
more. The soldiers boarded the train, which immediately started off to
another station.
At home the general cleaning and arrangement of the Boarding-school
began, and in a few days the united assistance of strong hands and
willing hearts have accomplished the work, and the Sisters quietly await
developments.
During this time several workmen were busy excavating a cellar in the
yard. On a certain morning the implements remained idly standing by the
wall, as the workmen had been called out to assist in the all-important
work of strengthening the fortification of Willebroeck. This cellar,
half filled with water by the dislodgment of the pipes leading to the
cisterns, became later the receptacle of the bomb which passed through
the chapel, shattering the walls and windows in its course.
One night a great noise in the streets aroused the residents of
Willebroeck. It was the call for several classes of soldiers who were
obliged to rise, pack their kits and depart in a few hours, perhaps
never more to return to their homes or families. Sorrow filled many a
homestead that morning, but it was only a faint shadow of what was yet
to come.
Shortly afterwards it was announced that all the horses were to be
brought to the public market-place in each city and village. Here they
were examined and those unfit rejected. We know not whether any
compensation was given to the owners at this time, although promise was
made to make good the loss sustained at the close of the war. All the
horses which could be of any service had to be given up for the use of
the army. There were some people who gave seven, some nine, and one, we
knew, who gave thirteen or fourteen. Thus, just about the time that the
harvest was ripe in the fields, men and horses had to leave home and go
to meet death on the field of battle. Imagine the plight of women and
children, with every kind of hard work on hand and no one to help. How
happy they were when, as happened occasionally, their poor old horses
were rejected by the officers. Shortly thereafter all the bicycles and
motor cars had to be delivered, and yet neither complaint nor murmur was
heard on the part of the people, who patiently resigned themselves to
the unhappy lot which had befallen them.
The gazettes and daily papers were eagerly read, although little
reliable information could be obtained. Encouraging news in the evening
was usually contradicted in the morning, while reports of the most
terrible atrocities; of men murdered in cold blood; of open and gross
lawlessness and evil conduct, terrorized the peaceful population in the
unprotected towns and villages.
Shortly after the war began letters were received from His Eminence,
Card. Mercier, Archbishop of Malines, requesting the use of the schools
and other locales for a military hospital to be placed at the service of
the Red Cross.
Again a few days of quiet anticipation elapse, like the calm which
precedes a destructive storm; while the Sisters utilize the time in the
unusual occupation of changing the joyful abode of children into a fit
dwelling for death and misery.
The children’s refectory was arranged for the care of wounded officers;
the large reception hall was fitted up for wounded soldiers, also the
three dormitories and several classrooms. One classroom became an office
for chaplain and doctors. Another department became an operating room.
Another was reserved for cases of contagious disease which might occur,
while another room was used as a mortuary.
One Sunday morning, about the middle of August, an unusual tumult was
heard on the street. The door bell was loudly rung, and a messenger
admitted with news that the officers of the Belgian War Department had
commanded everything within firing range of the fortress to be cleared
away at once. For some time previous the soldiers had been busy cutting
down the groves and all the trees in the immediate vicinity of the
fortress. The poor people were given just three hours to get away with
bag and baggage.
Willebroeck, a large village between Antwerp and Brussels, about two
miles from the City of Boom, had increased greatly in population, wealth
and manufacturing during the years of peace and prosperity which had
elapsed since the last war. Thus it happened that stores, dwelling
houses, farm houses, breweries, paper mills and other industries had
been built up, regardless of the fortification near by, whose
grass-covered walls concealed the strong masonry and heavy cannon
within.
This was a terrible misfortune for about six hundred families, whose
dwellings, being located within the limits prescribed, had to be leveled
to the ground. Even the tombstones in the cemetery, together with all
the crops, trees, haystacks, barns and everything within range of the
gaping mouths of the cannon, had to be laid flat or taken away.
No wonder that the people raced to and fro that hot Sunday morning,
carrying bundles, dragging wagons with household furniture and fixtures;
wheeling trunks, clothing, stoves, pictures, bedding and every article
that could be taken up and carried away. Tears and perspiration rolled
over the cheeks of men and women, whose faces glowed from the heat and
intense excitement.
Fortunately, the first message was followed by another whereby the
people were allowed more time to get their personal property in safety
before the work of “burning off” began. Impossible to describe how
bitterly hard it was for these poor people to tear themselves away from
the homes which had cost them so much toil, labor and hardship.
The new Sewing School and laundry, the Parochial School, the Girls’
Public School, the Patronage (Boys’ Catholic School), and all other
large locales received the village refugees. In a short time cows,
horses, chickens, coal, grain, vegetables, furniture and everything that
one can well imagine filled up the schools and gardens. The cattle,
unused to the change and flurry, set up a dreadful howling, which
continued long into the night.
In one schoolroom we had the contents of a grocery store; in another the
costly furniture of one of the richest gentlemen in the town; while
several families took up their abode in the midst of the clothing,
furniture and bedding in the schools. How we all worked that day,
carrying out desks and piling them up in safe places, putting away
books, school utensils—as many as possible in the least possible space.
Every available spot on the ground was utilized, except those rooms
assigned to the private use of the Sisters, and the Boarding-school,
which was reserved for the use of the Red Cross.
The poor people resigned themselves to these changes without complaint
or murmur; and the Sisters, notwithstanding the disorder and confusion
caused by this state of affairs, did all that was possible to assist and
make them comfortable.
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