AN ATTEMPT TO REVISIT YPRES
When we arrived at the convent, we found that a soldier had called to
say that a motor-car would be starting for Ypres at 4.30, but which
would not return until the next day. We felt hardly inclined to accept
the invitation, but dared not miss the opportunity which would perhaps
not present itself a second time. Mother Prioress and Dame Placid
decided to go, and to pass the night in the abbey and come back the
following day in the motor. We were all so anxious at the idea that two
of us, viz. Dame Columban and Dame Patrick, offered to go on foot to be
able to help in case of danger. The narrative will be continued from
the notes of Dame Columban and Dame Patrick:--
‘We set off at 2.30 as we should, of course, take longer than the
motor. Two of the servants of Madame Boone, who were also in the
convent, accompanied us, to be able to see in what state her house
was. At their suggestion we decided to follow the railway line,
instead of going by the high road; and thus we were spared the
dreadful mud and constant traffic we should otherwise have had. On
our way we met many poor people who were flying from Ypres; for the
Germans were still shelling it. They tried their best to dissuade
us from our purpose, depicting in vivid colours the great danger we
were incurring--we, however, continued on our way. Several aeroplanes
passed overhead, one of which received a volley of shots, so we knew
it must have been an enemy. Sad to say, it escaped untouched. As we
advanced we heard the sound of the guns louder and louder, till at
last we found ourselves once again in the noise and confusion we
had left a week and a half ago. Our hearts beat faster as we began
to distinguish in the distance the tower of St. Martin’s and of the
Hall; and we hastened our steps, wondering if the motor-car, which
was to bring Mother Prioress and Dame Placid, were already there,
and making plans as to what we should do for the night. The fugitives
had told us that the Germans were principally shelling the station,
so we determined to go round the town, and come in by the Porte de
Menin which would bring us immediately to the Abbey. As we were thus
settling everything in advance, we came to where the railway lines
pass over the high road, and were about to continue by the latter,
when a French policeman suddenly stopped us, asking where we were
going. We bravely replied, “To Ypres!” What was our dismay when he
politely informed us he was forbidden to allow anyone to enter the
town. In vain we expostulated, saying how far we had come, that we
only desired to see our Monastery once again, that it was quite
impossible to walk back to Poperinghe that night. It was all useless.
As we spoke, some poor persons endeavoured also to pass, but were
sent back. We then asked the officer if he had seen a motor-car with
two nuns in it. He replied in the negative, but promised to stop them
should they pass. He tried to mend matters by explaining that he was
obliged to obey orders, and that it was to prevent deserted houses
being broken into and robbed that persons were not allowed to enter
the town. “For,” he said, “people pass by empty-handed in the morning,
saying they want to see if their houses are still standing; they come
back in the evening loaded with things; is it their own belongings
they have, or some one else’s?” This, however, did not console us, and
we turned our steps disconsolately towards Poperinghe.
‘It was nearly six o’clock. The cold wind beat pitilessly in our
faces, for it was freezing hard. The stars were shining, but there
was no moon, so the road was dark. Should we _ever_ reach Poperinghe
again? What if Mother Prioress and Dame Placid were waiting for us at
the Abbey? They would assuredly think we were killed!... We walked
slowly on, debating what was to be done. At last we decided to try
to find a lodging for the night, and get into Ypres the first thing
in the morning. We stopped at the first group of houses which came
in sight. What was our joy to see a motor outside. Perhaps we could
get a ride home. We addressed ourselves to the French soldier who
was standing by, and asked if by chance he was going to Poperinghe
that night. “Yes!” was the rather laconic reply. “And would it be
possible to take us also?” That was another thing. We must wait for
the officer, who would be back, perhaps, in half an hour, perhaps
later. Then, as if to excuse his apparent unwillingness, the soldier
told us they were strictly forbidden, under pain of thirty days’
imprisonment, to take anyone in the motors, as it had been discovered
that German spies had been acting as chauffeurs to several French
officers. Did we look like German spies? Be that as it may, it was not
inviting to think of waiting in the cold for half an hour or more,
and then meeting with a probable refusal. We consequently returned to
our first idea of getting a night’s lodging. We knocked at the first
door, but found the house full of French soldiers. We went farther on,
and, through a window, saw some English “Tommies” seated round the
fire with the members of the family. This looked more inviting. We
pushed the door open (there being no sign of a bell or knocker), and
at our enquiry, were told that the house was full, there being four
officers lodging there, as well as the private soldiers. We asked if
it would be possible to speak to an officer, and were requested to
step inside. Our visit being announced, a cheery voice called out,
“Entrez, mes Sœurs, entrez!” We entered the little room, and found
ourselves in presence of four officers, who were actually engaged in
making their tea, and who were more than delighted on learning our
nationality. They were very interested in our story, and pressed us to
take tea with them. We thanked them for their kindness, but refused,
not wishing to deprive them of what they so well deserved. Two of
them next offered to go in search of some means of conveying us back
to Poperinghe, as we were not likely to find a lodging anywhere. They
were also sure that the officer had never left with Mother Prioress,
for--as one of them remarked--“Ypres is a very unhealthy place for
the moment.” After some time, the two returned, saying they had
found a French vehicle, which would conduct us to within a mile of
Poperinghe. So, thanking our kind hosts, we followed our two guides
to the place where the carriage (if so we may call it, it being
rather a closed cart, drawn by mules) was standing. The soldiers
were busy unloading it. As we were talking, two lights appeared in
the distance, which rapidly grew bigger and brighter, as a motor-car
dashed past us. The two officers soon chased it, calling on the driver
to stop. He accordingly slowed down, and we learned, to our great
delight, that the officer (an English one this time) would take us
straight to Poperinghe. We were soon spinning along the road, leaving
Vlamertinghe, houses, carts, horses, soldiers, far behind us; and in
a good quarter of an hour, we stopped at the door of La Sainte Union.
We begged our kind benefactor to accept something for our drive;
but he refused, saying he was only too pleased to have been able to
render us this little service. As soon as we were safe inside, we were
surrounded, all asking what had happened to us, for everyone had been
more than anxious on our account, owing to the alarming news which
was brought from Ypres. We related our adventures in a few words, and
then had to go quickly upstairs to show ourselves to dear Lady Abbess,
who was greatly troubled over our absence, and enquired constantly if
we had yet arrived.
‘In our turn we now desired to know what had happened to Mother
Prioress and Dame Placid, so, during recreation, which we shared with
the other nuns, refugees like ourselves, we heard of their doings.
After going out in search of the officer who was to take them to
Ypres, and waiting in the rain and cold, the soldier who had called
in the morning found them and said the captain had been delayed,
and would not leave before 4 or 4.30. They had then returned to the
convent and set out once again, this time taking the key of the
Abbey, which they had previously forgotten. Arrived in the market
square, they saw a long row of motors drawn up, with soldiers busy
taking off the cakes of mud and mire which literally covered them.
In vain they looked for their driver. At this moment a regiment of
Chasseurs Français rode up four abreast. They had hardly gone when
the Dragoons, with their uniform of pale blue and silver, galloped
past also. This state of things lasted almost an hour. The captain
not yet making any appearance, they had gone in quest of something to
take with them to eat, in case no food should be found in Ypres. By a
strange coincidence, on entering the shop, they were accosted by the
manageress of one of the hotels of Ypres, who immediately recognised
them. At last, on coming once more out into the square, the soldier
met them again, saying that the bombardment was raging so fiercely
that there was no question of leaving Poperinghe that afternoon. It
was useless to think of sending after us, so every one had remained in
the greatest anxiety until our return.’