Next morning we were all motored from our different lodgings to Euston Station, where we were met by Mr. Nolan, brother of Rev. Dom Nolan, O.S.B., and at 10.30 we entered on the last stage of our never-to-be-forgotten journey. We had three reserved compartments at our disposal, by the kind intervention of a gentleman at Victoria Station, who had given a signed card to Mother Prioress, telling her to show it to anyone who should question her. And so we travelled safely from Ypres to Oulton. How strange it seemed, for more than one of us, to pass by those scenes which we had thought never more to see in this life! We had left our country, home, and all, to shut ourselves up in the peaceful solitude of Ypres Abbey; and here we were, forced to retrace our steps and to return temporarily to the world which we had willingly given up. God was, however, preparing us another place of refuge from the turmoil of Babylon, into which we had suddenly been thrown.
After changing trains at Stafford, where Lady Abbess experienced the same considerate compassion which had been shown to her all along, we arrived at Stone Station. There we were met by some of the pupils of Oulton Abbey, who told us how everyone was expecting us, and how they had tried during the past weeks to obtain news of us, but always unsuccessfully. Two Dominican nuns from the Stone Convent next came forward to greet us, one being an old Princethorpian school-companion of Dame Columban and Dame Teresa.
The carriages awaiting us were soon full, and as there was not room for all, four of us offered to walk. We lost nothing by this; for passing by Stone, the two Dominican nuns who had so kindly come to the station to meet us, obtained permission for us to visit their convent. We went all round the church (the community were singing vespers in their choir) and then through the cloisters, which reminded us of the dear Abbey we had left behind. We saw the community room and several others, and lastly found ourselves in the parlour, where we awaited the honoured visit of Reverend Mother Prioress. We passed an agreeable time, till the sound of carriage wheels told us that one of the vehicles which had already been up to Oulton had returned to fetch us.
Our honoured Lady Abbess and the community were received with open arms at St. Mary’s Abbey. It was with true motherly affection that Lady Laurentia opened the doors of her Monastery to receive the Ypres community. The two communities—Oulton and Ypres—have always been closely united, and one of the first thoughts of the Oulton nuns, on the outbreak of this dreadful war in Belgium, was for the Abbey at Ypres. As early as September 17 the Lady Abbess had written and offered us a home, in case we had to leave our Monastery; but for some weeks we had refused to believe that this would ever happen.
When we arrived we found the Lady Abbess and community assembled to receive us, and also the chaplain, Monsignor Schobel, who was no stranger, as he had often visited us at Ypres when staying with his friends at Bruges. We were very pleased to see him again.
By degrees we learned the trouble we had unwittingly caused the nuns; for a letter which Mother Prioress had written five days before, from Poperinghe, to announce our arrival had only come that morning, and the telegram from London had followed almost immediately. Everyone had been obliged to set to work to prepare for our accommodation. Two large rooms were placed at Lady Abbess’ service. There were only two cells free, so one was allotted to Mother Prioress, and the other to Dame Placid. The rest of the choir dames were comfortably established in a dormitory of the new building only completed since the month of October. The lay-sisters found beds in another large room, and so our wanderings came to an end.
No one save those who have suffered as we have suffered can realise the joy which we experienced in finding ourselves once more in the calm and quiet of monastic life, where Holy Mass and Communion, the singing of the Divine Office, meditation and spiritual reading, succeeding the varied duties of the day, tend to soften the memories of the scenes of bloodshed and wretchedness which can never be forgotten.
Yet the echoes of this war of horrors reach us, even in our haven of rest. As I write, news reaches us from our chaplain (Monsieur de Seagher, Principal du Collège Episcopal, Ypres) who has returned to Ypres to find his college entirely pillaged and almost in ruins. He says that a third of the population has already re-entered the town; all are in dismay at the heart-rending sight which meets their gaze. As to our convent, he writes: ‘The state of your Abbey is also deplorable. The shells have made great havoc there. The French soldiers occupy it at present. In several places the water is rising in the cellars. God alone knows what we shall still see, for the bombardment is not yet finished.’
And now, what has God in store for us? We know not! When shall we return to brave little Belgium, and how shall we rebuild our monastery which, as has been said, should this very year celebrate its 250th anniversary? God, in His own good time, will raise up kind friends who will come to our assistance—of this we cannot doubt. In confidence, patience, and prayer we shall therefore await the moment chosen by Him Who has said: ‘Seek first the Kingdom of God, and all these things [i.e. temporal gifts] shall be added to you.’
Meanwhile we beg the Father of Mercy and the God of all Consolation to have pity on the world, and put an end to the dreadful punishment which weighs so heavily on our unfortunate generation. May He enlighten our enemies, that, realising the injustice of their cause, they may be converted, and cease their cruelties. May He also, in His infinite goodness, purge the entire universe from the crimes which have degraded humanity and brought it down to the level of ancient paganism, so that all, seeking only His greater honour and glory, may unite in the canticle of praise which Holy Church places on our lips during the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and which first resounded on Bethlehem’s plains round the crib of our common Redeemer:—
‘Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis.’
THE END