EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS OF OUR REFUGEE
SISTERS.
Following is an extract from a letter which came to hand on March 15,
1915, from the four Sisters who remained in the Convent throughout the
bombardment, two of whom are now in charge of the Belgian refugees in
Bristol, England:
“As you already know, perhaps, three of us remained in our Convent when
all the rest had fled. Later in the afternoon we saw the Reverend
Director and his sister step into the doctor’s automobile and whirl off
to a place of safety. Soon they were out of danger for the time being at
least. That evening, following the advice of the Reverend Chaplain, we
went to the Convent of the Presentation in Boom to pass the night. On
the way we met Sister Michelle. When she heard that we had remained in
Willebroeck, she came back with us. We were greatly pleased and took her
along to Boom for the night. In the morning we returned to our Convent
in Willebroeck in an automobile of the ambulance. There was work in
abundance. We had to cook and bake for one hundred and twenty persons.
There were twenty priests with them. Besides these, there was scarcely
any one left in Willebroeck. We rode to Antwerp for meat. Reverend
Mother sent us word to come to Aertselaar to go with the other Sisters
to England. We went to Aertselaar and asked permission to remain in
Willebroeck. Reverend Mother rode back with us. Again, in the afternoon,
there was nothing to be heard but cannonade on all sides. Just as the
Reverend Superior was about to go to the chapel, she was called into the
cellar, where the Sisters and some of the wounded had taken refuge. At
once a heavy shock was heard. Every moment there were heavy shocks. Our
chapel had been struck by a bomb, which destroyed the iron frame of the
window, seriously damaged the wall and mouldings, shattered the pews and
chairs, and filled all the adjoining rooms with lime and dust. We
thought that our whole Convent stood in fire and flame. All the window
panes in the chapel were out. All the window panes in the front gable of
the Convent were out. Reverend Mother, who had just escaped death by
joining the others in the cellar, returned to her charge in Aertselaar.
We four remained in the Convent. The doctors assured us that if need be
an automobile would be at our disposal in the evening.
Monday, October 5, the Chaplain, sent by the Major, came to tell us that
we must leave. “Go,” said he, “not to Antwerp, but through Flanders to
England.” We thought that our other Sisters had already gone to England.
We remained Tuesday also, amid the thundering roar of the cannon. At six
o’clock in the evening it was announced that the motor car was ready.
“Rapidly,” said they. “Everyone away.” There we were! One in the kitchen
and the others here and there at work. In haste we collected a few of
our things, and, without food or other supplies, started on the way to
Boom. The Belgian soldiers caused the bridge to spring just when we had
crossed it. The two ladies of the Red Cross who had so faithfully
assisted in the care of the wounded, were with us. We went from Boom to
Hemischen, over a rudely constructed bridge. From this place we jolted
and pitched all night long. One of our number, utterly exhausted, slept
soundly, and for the time being at least was unconscious of danger or
difficulty. At ten o’clock on Wednesday morning we arrived at St.
Niklaas.
We were well received by the Sisters at the Convent of the Presentation,
and remained until next day. Then we went to Ostend. From ten in the
morning until five in the evening we remained on the train and spent the
night in a convent. We looked for the ambulance, and found it in the
“Hotel Splendite,” wherein we were given rooms overlooking the sea.
There were about three hundred wounded soldiers brought from Antwerp,
for that city was just bombarded. We remained there until the 13th of
October. We had just retired on the evening of the 13th, when we were
hastily called up. “Toe Zusters’ gauw op! Ze zijn hier, alle maal bijna
weg.” (Sisters, do hurry up! Nearly all are away from here.) We sprang
up, dressed hastily, took our satchels and went directly to the depot.
We stood in the waiting-room from eleven o’clock that night until five
next morning. Two trains of wounded soldiers were passing. We succeeded
in getting into one of them, and now “Ahead,” wherever Divine Providence
may lead us. That was a tiresome ride. Every few minutes the train would
stop. Where were we going? Probably to France. In a town called Zarren
we remained standing a long time. The residents brought food and drink
for the soldiers and conducted the Sisters to a convent. We could not
find sufficient words to praise and thank these good people; and now
again, “Ahead to France.”
We arrived in France at eleven o’clock in the night. The people were
leaning out of their windows in their night-clothes and calling aloud
“Vive la Belgique! Vive les Heros!” Again, “Ahead to Dixmunde.” Here we
were placed on a merchant ship, with one thousand wounded soldiers and
ambulanciers from Antwerp. We knew not where we were going. There was no
food. We slept in a small cabin containing four berths, two above and
two below. Those best exercised in gymnastics could climb into the upper
beds. A few moments later the two younger Sisters had flown into their
“Doves’ Nest.” The ship departed, and finally we arrived in Dover,
England. We left Dover and went to Southampton, where we arrived safely
on Friday morning. Here the wounded soldiers were taken to hospitals in
the city, and we were conveyed to a convent. After a few days we were
requested to go to Bristol to teach the Belgian children, and here we
are at present among these good English people, where we may possibly
remain until the refugees return to Belgium.”
A letter from our Sisters in Holland last winter states that those
members of the Community who had taken up their abode in the
mission-house of Aertselaar were obliged to leave and take flight a few
days later than we. Some of them endured great hardships along the
route.
The Sisters whom we left in the city wrote about the same time the
following:
“Our stay in Antwerp was short. We were told that it was dangerous to
remain near the Palace of Justice. At six o’clock two of us started to
the Touwstraat (Rope street), so as to be near our other Sisters. As the
street cars had ceased to run, we had to walk about three miles. The
Sisters who were in the Convent of the Sacred Heart, in Antwerp, could
no longer remain, as those nuns also were preparing to leave. It was
impossible to close our eyes during that terrible night on account of
the thundering, deafening explosions of cannon, while bullets, shells
and shrapnel were flying over the city.
“Early in the morning we were ready to leave Antwerp, but our older
Sisters could not walk, and we had also in our company a sick Sister
from Londerziel. Finally, about eleven o’clock, we left for the station.
We could hardly get through because of the crowd and the great number of
wagons. Two of us walked on and arrived in Capellen at three o’clock. At
the station we had to get into a wagon which had been used for the
transportation of cattle, and then away again. At half-past four we were
in Calmpthout. We waited in the station from half-past nine until four
o’clock. Finally we obtained a place in a coal car and set out for
Holland.
“In Esschen, near the boundary line, we stepped off and walked forth to
Hoogerheide, in Holland, where thirty of us will remain in a convent. I
had forgotten to say that four of our Sisters took flight from Antwerp
at one o’clock in the night.
“Here in Holland we are eating rye bread and mashed potatoes, passing
the night on straw beds stretched upon the floors, and are quite at our
ease, for the present at least.”
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