CHAPTER XII
ON THE WAY TO ENGLAND
There was now no time to waste. The few treasures we had brought with us were promptly added to the other packages; while it was decided that each nun should wear her great-habit, as much to lessen the number of parcels, as to preserve us from the cold, especially when crossing the sea. We bade adieu to the Superioress and community of La Sainte Union, who had given us such a warm welcome, and shown us such hospitality during the past fortnight. They asked us in return to beseech Our Lord not to allow the Germans to bombard Poperinghe, that they might be able to stop in their convent, which they had only built during the past eleven years, since the French Government had driven them from Hazebrouck.
A ring at the door interrupted our adieux. The voice of a British officer was heard, asking if this were the convent where the Irish Dames of Ypres had taken refuge. The answer was soon given; and while some went to help Lady Abbess, others seized the ‘baggage,’ and all were soon at the door, where a group of wondering children and other people were assembled to see what would be the end of such an unusual sight. The great difficulty was to get our venerable invalid into the car; for although able to walk fairly well when helped on both sides, it was almost impossible for her to mount the two small steps. However, the soldiers soon came to the rescue; and, with the help of their strong arms, she was soon established comfortably in a corner of one of the motors, enveloped in a blanket and numerous shawls to keep out the cold. The rest of the community were not long in getting in the motors, and Edmund brought up the rear with a young Irish girl, Miss Keegan, who had been trying to get home since the war broke out, and had now begged to be allowed to make the journey with us.
Owing to the heavy fall of rain and the unusual traffic, the roads were in a very bad condition and consequently our ride was not of the smoothest; but no accident occurred. Being frosty weather, the wind was bitterly cold, and we were obliged to keep everything closed that Lady Abbess might not be inconvenienced. She, however, kept up bravely. We did not forget to say the ‘Sub tuum,’ nor to invoke our good St. Raphael with a fervent ‘Angeli, archangeli,’ to which we added the prayer for travellers. About half-way our kind guides came round to the entrance of the cars to know if we wanted anything. We passed through several villages and small towns surrounded by snow-covered fields and frozen ponds. Nothing of note happened to vary the monotony of the continual shaking of our motors. A little after 5 P.M. we came to a standstill, and looking out, found ourselves in what seemed to be a good-sized town. We were not left long in suspense, for soon the cheery face of the officer in charge appeared, enquiring where we wished to be driven, for we were at St. Omer. Mother Prioress then produced the letter of recommendation given her by Commandant Delporte for Major Kirke. The officer took the card, and soon we moved off in another direction. After a few minutes’ run, we came again to a halt, stopping some time. The officer then reappeared, saying that the major was absent, and asking where we would like to go now. Alas! we did not know, and wondered if it would not be advisable to go straight on to Boulogne that same evening, to take the boat the first thing next morning. The officer, seeing our perplexity, vanished once more. Soon we were bowling through busy streets, lined with shops well lit. Another stop, a few minutes’ wait, and off we were again. A third halt—then another officer appeared, saluted, and asked in excellent French if he could render us any service, or replace Major Kirke, who was absent from St. Omer. On hearing our situation, he told us that if we would just step out we should find accommodation in the establishment before which the cars had stopped. As he was still speaking, the persons who kept the house came out, helping us down, taking the parcels from us, and seeming more than delighted at our arrival. We were not sorry to leave the cars, for we were quite cramped with the long, cold drive. The next question was how to get Lady Abbess out of her corner, and into the house. At last the officer in charge had the bright idea of carrying her on a stretcher. Accordingly, one was brought down and laid on the seat opposite. We then helped her to sit on the stretcher, and induced her to lie down. She was at first afraid, not being accustomed to this novel mode of conveyance; but, being reassured, she allowed the soldiers to carry her into the house, and she was soon seated in a comfortable arm-chair by a blazing fire. After expressing our gratitude to the good soldiers, we rejoined Lady Abbess and soon made acquaintance with our kind hostesses. What was our delight to find that they were secularised Ursuline nuns, and that the house had formerly been a convent of La Sainte Union. It is therefore unnecessary to state that we were received with the greatest charity, a bed being even carried down to the room where we were for Lady Abbess, so that she should not be obliged to go upstairs. Poor Edmund had once more to be sent off, being conducted to almost the other end of the town, much to his distress.
After a good supper, we retired to rest in what had once been the children’s dormitory, and fatigued by such an eventful day we slept well. Next morning we were awakened by the deep tones of church bells. They were ringing the 6 o’clock Mass in the cathedral, which was quite close to the convent. We arose, and arrived in time for a late Mass. We were shown to seats almost at the top of the church. After a few moments we heard the sound of soldiers marching, and soon we had to give place to them, for we had come to a Military Mass, celebrated by an Army Chaplain. Two by two the soldiers advanced, being marshalled to right and left by an officer. It was an Irish regiment, and there were altogether about seventy soldiers who attended devoutly to Holy Mass, and more than one, when the moment of Holy Communion came, mingled with those who approached the altar. After Mass, we were conducted back to the convent, promising ourselves a visit during the day to see the many objects of devotion and interest in the venerable cathedral. We were not disappointed. Amongst other antiquities is a ‘Descent from the Cross’ by Rubens, and oil-paintings in memory of a visit which holy King Louis IX and Charles X paid to the cathedral, in thanksgiving for the success of their arms. The sacred vessels, also, were for the most part of great antiquity, especially a very ancient pyx ornamented with filagree work. Besides the high altar, in the middle of the sanctuary, having the stalls for the bishop and canons behind, there were numerous side-altars, among which the most remarkable was that dedicated to Our Blessed Lady of Miracles. This miraculous statue was held in great veneration by the inhabitants of the town; and in the great peril they had gone through some weeks past, when the Germans were advancing on St. Omer, and when the British had saved it by arriving only just in time—for had they come but half an hour later, the enemy would have been before them—in the moment of peril, the people had promised Our Blessed Lady, to give a new bell to the cathedral if she kept the dreaded invaders from entering the city. ‘Ex-votos’ without end hung all round the altar, besides numberless engravings in thanksgiving for miracles and cures obtained through Our Lady’s intercession.
After our interesting visit, we stopped for vespers, which, since the beginning of the War, were sung by the entire congregation; during which time we profited to say our own vespers and compline. We then went to visit M. le Curé de Furnes who, we knew, was stopping at St. Omer, Mother Prioress desiring to have news of her cousin the Dean of Furnes who, we heard, was at Boulogne. We also had the pleasure of saluting M. le Vicaire.
On our way, we met some soldiers from Morocco—easily distinguished as Arabs, by their bright blue tunics and long scarlet cloaks, with their big turbans, their blankets thrown round them, and their lovely horses. When we returned to the house, we learned that Lieutenant Stuart-Hayes, who had been so kind to us on the previous evening, had called to see Reverend Mother. He had, likewise, left a message to say that he would try to assist at Benediction in the evening; and afterwards he would come round again. He would be also very grateful if, before his visit, Mother Prioress would make out all that was necessary for our passports. All being finished, we set out for the cathedral once again; for although there were still twenty minutes before Benediction, yet at St. Omer, as nearly everywhere else, the churches, since the beginning of hostilities, were crowded, and those who before never put their foot inside a church were now amongst the most fervent; so, to secure our places, we had to be there in time. The rosary was first said aloud, the priest ascending the pulpit, so as to be better heard by everyone. After the ‘O Salutaris,’ repeated alternately by the choir and congregation, the ‘Miserere’ was sung, the people repeating the first lines between each verse of the Psalm. There was something particularly touching in that cry for mercy which arose from every heart at the thought of the dear ones who, perhaps even at that very moment, were being shot down on the battle-field. But what made the most impression was the hymn sung after Benediction, and which still rings in our ears—that ardent supplication to ‘La bonne Mère!’ ‘Vierge d’espérance, Étends sur nous ton voile; Sauve, sauve la France! Ne l’abandonne pas!’ It was truly a prayer in the real sense of the word, beseeching the Mother of Mercy not to forsake the land she had so many times miraculously saved, and where, but a short while before, had been seen such a wonderful outburst of faith at the Eucharistic Congress of Lourdes—the spot chosen by Our Blessed Lady herself, and where the devotion to the Son had ever been united to that of the Mother. The sound of the grand old organ greatly enhanced the beauty of the singing; and our hearts also mounted to the throne of mercy in behalf of our well-beloved Abbey which we were now leaving so far behind.
Soon afterwards, returning to our lodgings, Mother Prioress received the promised visit of the lieutenant, accompanied by a military priest. He brought all the necessary papers with him, together with a recommendation for the Governor of Boulogne, and took away our passports to have them signed. Reverend Mother told him she would like so much to have a Mass celebrated the next day in honour of St. Raphael for our safe voyage. He promised to see if it would be possible; and true enough, he returned a short time after with the good news that not only should we have a Mass said at which we could assist, but that he had obtained permission for the priest to accompany us as far as Boulogne. We were now in jubilation and proceeded once more to arrange our packages. The night soon passed, and next morning we proceeded to the cathedral wondering where we should find ‘our priest,’ whom we did not know, and had never seen! At the High Altar preparations were being made for a funeral; so we passed to the chapel of Our Lady of Miracles where a Mass was already half finished, hoping that ‘our priest’ would perhaps say the next one. Towards the end, he came himself to look for us, and told us he would not be able to come to Our Lady’s Altar as all the Masses there were reserved, but that he would commence immediately at St. Antony’s. So we crossed over to the other side of the cathedral where Father Flynn (as we afterwards found out he was called) said Mass, at which we all received Holy Communion. After breakfast we made the last preparations; and, about ten, three ambulance cars drove up to the house. The exiled nuns helped us as much as they could, giving us each a postcard with a view of the convent as a souvenir of our visit. They were sorry to see us leave, and told us to be sure and call on them again, if we should ever repass by St. Omer. The soldiers now came in with a stretcher for Lady Abbess; and the nuns were so good that they insisted on lending a mattress, blankets, and pillows, which would be returned with the cars. Having placed Lady Abbess on this portable bed, the soldiers carried her out with the greatest care, Father Flynn presiding and enlivening the whole proceeding with Irish wit. We were soon seated in the cars, but had some time to wait, as Mother Prioress was obliged to get a little money changed. Meanwhile several people came to speak to us, among whom was the sister of one of our former pupils, who, recognising our habit, came forward to know what had happened to the Abbey. After a little while Reverend Mother returned; but still the cars did not start. We soon learnt the reason when Lieutenant Stuart-Hayes appeared triumphantly with a bottle of light wine and a box of biscuits, which he insisted on our accepting. We could not thank him enough for all that he had done for us; but he withdrew immediately, after making sure we had all we desired, and courteously saluting us, he gave word for the motors to start and we were soon on the road to Boulogne. It was bitterly cold, so we kept the car in which Lady Abbess was lying well covered. Just outside St. Omer, a British aeroplane mounted from the aviation field. This was the last we saw of active hostilities. Father Flynn kept the conversation going, and, between the prayers and hymns, endeavoured to enliven the company. He told us he was the first Catholic Chaplain to arrive with the troops in France. He was going to the front on the following Wednesday—let us hope that he will be spared.
After running along for some time as smoothly as was possible, considering the bad state of the roads, the inmates of one of the motors heard a crack like a report of a revolver. At the same instant the car stood stock-still—the two others following necessarily did likewise. On enquiry, it was discovered that a tyre had burst, which meant a little halt on the way. As we were just outside a village, the inhabitants, though accustomed by this time to British soldiers passing by, were not accustomed to seeing nuns with them and consequently crowded round to examine us a little nearer. None being brave enough to ask where we came from, they solved the problem themselves, and christened us ‘Les Petites Sœurs de la Croix Rouge,’ a title which I am afraid we hardly deserved.
The country through which we passed seemed very picturesque, judging from the glimpses we got from time to time by lifting up the flap at the end of the car—fields covered with snow gradually sinking in gentle slopes or rising in the distance in hilly ranges. From time to time a woody glade would change the monotony of the succeeding meadows, then a small village with its quaint little houses. As we were thus putting more and more distance between Belgium and ourselves, a sudden crash soon broke the reigning silence. The leading motor having drawn up when at full speed, the two others—not expecting this—had run one on top of the other. We were all thrown over on our seats and so remained, not daring to move, for fear of what might happen next. The truth was that the first car, owing to a rapid run down a slippery hill had charged into a telegraph post, and that was the cause of our being roused so unceremoniously out of the dreams of ‘auld lang syne.’ The drivers soon appeared to make excuses for the fright they had unwillingly given us, saying that there was no harm done, except for a window broken. We were quite reassured and started off again. Lady Abbess had fortunately not realised the danger, and only asked what the noise meant, and why we had stopped.
We rolled on once more, but our guides soon came to the conclusion that they had mistaken their way; so, consulting their maps, they turned back. Uphill and down again, going at the same flying pace, we at last arrived in the historic old town of Boulogne. There we still continued to mount and descend, for the streets seemed all very steep. It was now between 2.30 and 3 P.M. and the boat would not leave till 4. We decided it would be better to stop in our cars, as it was hardly according to the nature of our vocation to go about sight-seeing, and if we got down we should only stand shivering in the cold.
The motor-car in which were Lady Abbess and Mother Prioress was next driven off to the Governor’s house, and having drawn up, Father Flynn alighted to arrange everything for us. We patiently awaited his return, little dreaming of the honour which was being prepared for us, till we saw the Governor coming in person to salute the Superioress. Reverend Mother having returned his greeting, told him of the great kindness we had everywhere received from the British Headquarters, at which he expressed the hope that we would experience the same from the French. He then introduced Lieutenant Treillard, to whom he gave us in charge, with directions to see us all safely on board. With truly French gallantry the lieutenant saluted the company, and Father Flynn carefully pocketing his precious papers and jumping up by the chauffeur, the car with Lady Abbess and Mother Prioress rejoined the rest of the community.
Our conductors, who were evidently hungry, now produced bread, tinned meat, and cheese. One, buying some potato chips, promptly came to share them with us. We declined to accept them, thanking him all the same for his kindness. We thought we could not do better than follow their example; so Mother Prioress divided Lieutenant Stuart-Hayes’ biscuits among us. Father Flynn produced a packet of chocolate, and then each in turn drank some wine from the solitary little mug we had brought in case Lady Abbess should want anything on the way. As the soldiers seemed very cold, stamping their feet on the frozen road, Reverend Mother gave them also a drop of wine; and for one who refused (having probably taken the pledge) she warmed some milk with the little spirit-lamp we had. They were all delighted. Poor fellows! it was the least we could do for them, when they had rendered us such good service.
Captain Dwyer, who had brought our papers from the general staff to Lieutenant Stuart-Hayes when we were at St. Omer, now joined us once more (having been sent to Boulogne with despatches) to assure himself of our safety. Our long stay ended by exciting the curiosity of the bystanders, and we received rather indiscreet visits of persons who, apparently passing innocently by the cars, lifted up the flap to look in. Some ventured to talk, and we discovered one poor man who said he came from the Rue St. Jacques, Ypres, and an old woman who had walked all the way from Dixmude.
At last it was time to go on board the boat. The ambulance cars took us quite close to the gangway. When we had all got down with our parcels, the soldiers lifted the stretcher on which Lady Abbess was lying, and gently carried her on board and into the cabin, where we helped her on to a sofa. Lieutenant Treillard superintended everything, and good Father Flynn made fun all the time. The latter then gave special injunctions to Reverend Mother about the papers, &c., and giving us his blessing, with a special one to Lady Abbess, having in his turn begged hers, with all possible wishes for a safe arrival at our destination, he hurried off the boat, which was preparing to leave. The passage was very calm, but cold and frosty. For more than one of us it was the first crossing, Lady Abbess having up to this time never even seen the sea; and, sad to say, nearly all proved ‘bad sailors’ except, curiously enough, Lady Abbess. Happily, however, the passage only lasted 1 hr. 20 min., so we were soon at Folkestone. Thanks to our papers from British and French Headquarters, we were passed successfully by the doctor and other officials (who stopped two Belgian peasants following us ashore)—even Edmund got through without the least difficulty. Arrived in the station, a telegram was sent to a relative of one of the community in London, who kindly looked out lodgings for us in advance. It seemed an interminable time before the train set off, and afterwards, rushing through the darkness, passing station after station, town after town, we thought London would never come. However, all things come to an end, and so did our journey, as at last we steamed into Victoria Station. There, one would have said we were expected, we were so kindly received by the ladies on the platform, who helped us out and pressed us to take something. On hearing where we had come from, and how we had succeeded in getting honoured Lady Abbess safe through so many difficulties, everyone was more than interested; and soon porters were running in all directions to get cabs to convey us to our destination which was in quite another part of London. A bath-chair was brought for Lady Abbess who was wheeled out of the station, Mother Prioress holding her hand. One of the ladies, seeing the impossibility of getting her into a cab, fetched a private motor-car. The gentleman who owned it, helped by a soldier, lifted Lady Abbess gently in. Then they drove to the hospital of SS. John and Elizabeth, whither it was thought better for the present to take Lady Abbess. The soldier, overcome by the sight of our dear Abbess’ patience, took her in his arms—exclaiming, when he came downstairs, ‘I could not help it, she is such a dear good old lady.’ Dame Patrick’s aunt (Mrs. Adamson) had arranged everything for us, and so Dame Patrick, with Mother Prioress and Dame Columban, were cordially received at her house. Lady Abbess remained at the hospital of SS. John and Elizabeth, where, indeed, she received every attention, together with seven other members of the community. Dame Teresa, Dame Aloysius, and Dame Walburge experienced the same charity at the Sisters of Hope. Edmund was also taken in at Mrs. Adamson’s. Those at the hospital and the Sisters of Hope heard Mass there next morning; and Mother Prioress, Dame Columban, and Dame Patrick walked as far as the Dominicans at Haverstock Hill. We may here note the loving goodness of Divine Providence, which had not once allowed us to miss Mass or Holy Communion in spite of all the dangers and fatigues of the past weeks. We were truly like the Israelites in the desert, for whom the manna never failed.