THE REFUGEE NUNS OF MALINES

New Zealand Tablet, 30 September 1915, Page 17

THE REFUGEE NUNS OF MALINES

THE TRIALS AND SUFFERINGS OF THE REDEMPTORISTINES. The following account of the trials and sufferings of the Redemptoristine Nuns of Malines, who were forced to leave their convent at the outbreak of the war, and proceed to England, has been translated from the French by Mrs. Agnes Bourke, Wellington, and kindly forwarded to us: Our Rev. Mother has entrusted to me the pleasant task of transmitting to you an account of a few of the tragical episodes, which our community went through during this terrible war. Although on the one hand it is very consoling to me to recall them to mind, in order to thank Divine Providence for the very visible protection extended to us during that sad time, yet I will not try to disguise the fact that these souvenirs make me shudder even now. We sometimes ask ourselves in community how we were ever able to go through those tragical days so bravely, I would almost say, so stoically. From the moment of the declaration of war, and especially as soon as the terrible reports began to reach us, we turned anxiously towards our dear Rev. Mother, questioning her more by our looks than by our words, for great sorrows silence the human tongue. After fervent prayer, she assembled lie community, and told us what she purposed to promise the Sacred Heart in our name if we were preserved from all the accidents and acts of violence accompanying this war, if, above all, our holy enclosure remained unviolated and respected. With all our hearts, and even joyfully, we approved these vows, which, we trusted at least, were to preserve us from the invasion of the Teutons. Our Rev. Mother caused a big statue of the Sacred Heart, magnificently decorated, to be placed in the middle of the choir. In the midst of the flowers stood a large shield bearing the words of our Lord’s solemn promise to Blessed Margaret Mary— * I will bless the houses where the image of my Sacred Heart is exposed and honored.’ At the appointed time we surrounded the statue. Clad in our blue mantles, candle in hand, we listened with full adhesion to the act of reparation i and consecration, composed for the occasion by our ( Rev. Mother. In this hour of danger more than ever, one felt one’s own helplessness and, striking one’s breast, implored the Heavenly Father in the name of His Divine Son to alleviate His rigorous decrees and to manifest His clemency and mercy towards our un-

happy country. Having provided for our spiritual needs, our dear Rev. Mother turned her attention to the safeguarding of the convent. We were advised to establish an ambulance station, the Red Cross flag being considered

the best guarantee of safety for the convent, but where was the necessary straw to be found, the Army having already requisitioned all that was available. A suggestion tp remove three-quarters of the straw contained in each Sister’s mattress was willingly accepted and immediately carried out, for the terrible silence of the town was sufficient warning of the disastrous events to be expected. When the ambulance station was ready, we separated the parlors from the enclosure by large boards. Having accomplished all that was in our power, humanly speaking, we tried to re-assure ourselves, hoping that our enclosure would be our safeguard. From time to time reports reached us, but, alas! they were more than alarming; the Germans were so barbarous that they no longer respected the civilians, so that our Rev. Mother imposed absolute silence. Many of our Sisters, whose relatives were in the invaded parts, were filled with anguish, specially as there was no longer any means of communicating with them, or of getting any information whatever concerning them. On the morning of August 25, we were reciting Divine Office when suddenly violent cannonading made our choir windows vibrate. These shots were followed by the hissing of the shells directed towards the steeple of St. Rombaut’s Church. The community remained in the choir, assisted at Holy Mass, and received the Eucharistic Bread, I had almost said, as Viaticum. At breakfast Rev. Mother informed us that for safety all the Sisters were to take their mattresses to the refectory, which was large enough to hold them all, and was moreover close to the cellars. At 9 o’clock the bombardment ceased, and we breathed a trifle more freely. Nevertheless, when evening came we were told to stretch ourselves fully dressed on our mattresses. Many of us spent the night in prayer. Others watched from the attics to warn us in case of danger, for the Germans had decided several days previously to set fire to the four corners of the town. On the 26th August, we heard the thunder of the cannons all day. Towards 6 p.m. the convent bell summoned us hurriedly together. Trembling, we went down to the community room where, calm and resigned, our Rev. Mother informed us that Our Heroic Little Army was retreating, that the Germans, having received reinforcements, the city of Malines was open to them. She exhorted ns to trust more and more in the Sacred Heart, and then instructed each Sister to take a chair and a blanket and to follow her to the cellars, where she assigned our places in case of a fresh bombardment. I leave you to imagine our feelings; the majority of us had never penetrated these dark caves, and their aspect alone was sufficient to depress the most valiant of us. Just then our dear Rev. Mother’s health was in a. most precarious condition, and the doctor had prescribed absolute rest. We wanted to bring her couch to the cellars, but she forbade it, wishing to encourage us by her example; The night was quiet, the only thing visible in the deserted streets being a patrol of Uhlans, who endeavored to set fire to the city gates. An official communique afterwards stated that they had fallen back on Louvain. The forenoon of the 27th was so quiet that at noon the Sisters asked permission to take their mattresses back to their cells, the Germans having, _ as we heard, evacuated the neighborhood of the city. Rev. Mother granted the Sisters’ request. At 2.15 p.m. the bell summoned us together, for bad news awaited us. Rev. Mother told us to be seated, and then quietly explained that our chaplain was informed by the Burgomaster that the town of Louvain was in flames, the priests massacred, various prominent citizens shot, others.deported to Germany, and altogether the cruelties were of such a revolting nature that they were not fit to be detailed to us. Consequently, the archiepiscopal authorities ordered all religious communities of the city to flee to a place of safety. We were instructed to go to the Ursuline Convent at Wavre escorted by our chaplain, who promised not to forsake us. Each Sister was to take what was absolutely-indis-

pehsable in her blanket. What a terrible shock to us! We had ' never even conceived the idea of leaving our J- enclosure; persuaded that sooner than violate it we v Had better allow ourselves to be massacred within its walls, and then we had such firm trust in the Sacred Heart. Urgent reasons, however, compelled us to adopt the course recommended. How, shall I describe our anguish on leaving the monastery . . , our cells . . . ! We were so much upset that we forgot to take what was necessary, and ended by taking the wrong things. As for our red habits and our light white shoes, it was impossible to go through the town in these. It was equally impossible to find a vehicle of any description. One of the Sisters found a remnant of dark blue baize by means of which some of us were able to cover our habits. The novices reassumed their worldly attire,, but we all retained our coifs. Our tourieres and others lent skirts, capes, etc. —certainly a more motley gathering would be hard to find. We were so perturbed, however, that we gave little thought to our appearance. In the streets people gathered in groups asking what Order of nuns we were, but even in the socialistic quarters of the 'city we only met with kindness and compassion. The route was exceedingly arduous for our Sisters, totally unaccustomed to long walks, amongst them being several who had been confined to their beds for months. The more robust members of the community carried packages containing the sacred vessels, but they were soon overcome by their burdens. At last the nephew of one of our Sisters found a little cart on which we placed our luggage. Thanking God for His Providential Help, we proceeded on our way, meeting numbers of people and carts coming from Wavre (the place where we were to take refuge) to Malines,' where they hoped to be in safety. Poor people how frightened they were to meet us leaving the city ! We reached Wavre about 5 o’clock. In the distance we could hear the Germans bombarding Malines. A great disappointment awaited us at the convent. We thought our chaplain carried the pyx, containing the Blessed Sacrament,, but on our arrival we discovered that in the general flurry of departure the sacristan had locked up the tabernacle key. In the midst of the bombardment, the chaplain, accompanied by the sacristan and the servant, was obliged to return to our convent for the Blessed Sacrament and, although they went in a carriage, they only returned at 9.30 p.m. The Ursulines received us most kindly, but did not hide from us the fact that we were no safer in their house than elsewhere, as they themselves expected to have to flee at any moment. Moreover, as we were not expected, they had not the necessary provisions for our community of fifty Sisters, and there was no chance of procuring them. Next day the Superioress of the Ursulines requested our Rev. Mother to allow us to change our attire, as our red habits attracted too much attention. We acceded to her desire, though it certainly was a sacrifice for us to discard our holy habit. Our Rev. Mother encouraged us, saying that it was by our demeanour, and not by our dress, that we were to show ourselves true Redemptoristines. The Superioress of the Ursulines, our chaplain, and our Rev. Mother then made arrangements to facilitate, as far as possible, our regular community life. The library, a room appertaining to the chapel, served us as choir; the canonical hours were recited in the students’ refectory, which we also used as community room. This was a great change for us. At all hours of the day and night officers and men were coming and I going. It was impossible to sleep at night, as the pass--1 ing of the Belgian patrols kept us constantly on the qui vive, and we never felt safe. During the day the Zeppelins were frequently seen flying over the convent. As far as food was concerned, we were certainly accustomed to privations, but it was hard at times to be told, just as we were going to supper, that on account of the fresh, arrivals of wounded, we could only have half a slice of dry bread each. We suffered, not

for ourselves,, but for so many of our Sisters whose frail health was likely to be completely shattered by; so many privations. % Towards noon on Sunday, September 27, we heard a violent report; the soldiers reassured; us, saying it only meant the testing of some new artillery.; These detonations continued all day, causing the entire convent to vibrate. They were terrible to hear, and con-; tinued next day, too. About 2 p.m. we were hastily] summoned, and were told it was the Ursuline Convent that the Germans had been aiming at for the last two days. Belgian soldiers came and placed their cannons in the convent garden. We were obliged to flee to Lierre, which meant a walk of four hours in the midst of these horrible reports. Just as we were leaving, one particularly loud was heard, so violent that we were almost paralysed with fear. Our chaplain exhorted us not to lose confidence, and falling on our knees we received a special blessing. We departed for Lierre" more reassured, our brave soldiers in front of us telling us to creep along the walls and to lie down on the ground when we heard the more violent detonations. The road was thronged with Belgian troops who warned us of the danger, and we met hundreds of fugitives, the peasants leading their cattle, which of course made the road even more perilous. After a walk of two hours some of the Sisters, literally exhausted, declared their inability to go any further; others showed the palms of their hands all cut and sore from the strings of the heavy packages. To make things worse, some of the Sisters lost their way in the crowd and had to walk back, which increased their fatigue; others saw shells fall a few steps away from them. At last Providence sent a curate, disguised as a layman, in our way; he got one of his parishioners to lend us his cart.and take our luggage. Thus relieved, we continued our walk and arrived towards evening at our destination (Lierre). The good nuns had already Taken in Pour Communities, and had, moreover, the depot for military accoutrements, etc. They received us with open arms, and we felt at home immediately, to our dear Rev. Mother’s great relief. Our chaplain informed us that before deciding to cross to England, we would be able to remain there for a few days’ rest. Though completely exhausted, needless to say, we hastened to- the chapel and then, as the Ursulines had to watch that night, we were able to rest in their beds. During the night the Ursuline community from Wavre, numbering 150, arrived at the convent. They had hoped to remain in Wavre by hiding in their cellars, but our soldiers obliged them to leave during the night, and insisted on escorting them out of the enemy’s reach. They, told us that we had not left Wavre a quarter of an hour when the dormitory where we packed our luggage caught fire, and a bomb fell in the room occupied by one of our nuns. I need not tell our gratitude to Divine Providence for our escape. At breakfast next morning one or two of our Sisters declared they had heard cannon during the night. We laughed it off, assuring them they had been dreaming. After breakfast, the Sister Procuratrix made a list of the things strictly necessary for each of us. Some had their shoes and stockings worn to shreds ; others suffered bitterly from the cold, and at Wavre it had been impossible to procure anything except at exorbitant prices. We had hardly begun to arrange our rooms when the detonations recommenced. Terrified, the Sisters made inquiries, and were told that Lierre was being bombarded. In the meantime our procuratrix, Sister M. Alphonse, returned, being unable to buy anything: the population was fleeing and the church was on fire. At 10 o’clock we went to the station, where trains were being organised. There was a special train for the nuns, for this time we numbered over 200. We had hardly taken our seats when other fugitives arrived, and expected us to give up our places to their wives and children, whereupon the- more robust of out Sisters went outside on the platform, where they remained all day amongst the men. We spent

3 ' The Entire Day in- This Train Without Food, ■ and not knowing where we were being taken to. We learned later that the train-had had to go out of its way considerably to escape the firing. The train following ours was less fortunate, for a bomb struck it. At last at 9 p.m. we got out of the train at Courtrai, where we were received by a sympathetic crowd. We were taken to the Sisters of Charity du Fort, who were afraid to open at first, fearing the Germans. At last, Ave were received in a large hall where some gentlemen were busy placing mattresses for the ambulance station. Dry bread was distributed out of large baskets, and jars of beer were placed at our disposal, after which we rested two by two on the mattresses. Next morning the train for Ostend was ready for us at 8 a.m., and here our first sad separation took place. Unfortunately, the night before poor little Sister Marie Rose fell on getting down from the train, and being badly hurt, was obliged to have medical assistance. The doctor who attended her could not refrain from admiring her calmness and resignation. Not knowing what was in store for us, we thought it best to entrust her to the hospitality of the good nuns du Fort, leaving our two infirmieres, Sister M. Pia and Sister M. Gerard, with her. Our procuratrix, Sister M. Alphonse, also remained behind. One must understand community life to realise what this separation meant to us all. Towards 10 o’clock we reached Ostend, where we were obliged to go to the Catholic Club until our Superiors had made the necessary arrangements for us. Imagine, if you can, all these enclosed nuns, totally unaccustomed to any dealings with the Avorld, brought in contact with all sorts and conditions of people who came there purposely to stare at us, while enjoying their beer. It was impossible to procure any food. At last, Rev. Mother Vicar, and our chaplain went out to seek accommodation for us. They were able to find a small hotel, Ave would only have one bed for each two Sisters, but at least we would be alone. We said good-bye to the Wavre nuns, and about 6 p.m. entered our new domicile. Our procuratrix did her utmost to provide a substantial meal after a fast, as one might almost say, of three days, so that AAe might gain strength for our proposed journey to England. Her means were limited, but her trust in Providence was boundless. Some of our nuns’ relatives who were at the seaside just then, having heard of our arrival, hastened to visit us, and were full of compassion at our appearance in our strange costume. We all looked so worn and fatigued that they laughingly declared Ave might well be taken for tramps. At last, on Friday, October 2, We Embarked for Hospitable England. At Folkestone we immediately remarked the courtesy of the English officials. We were given free places in the train, and were graciously offered refreshments. We reached London in about three hours, and there we experienced the same courtesy. Our Superiors found every help and sympathy in their endeavors to find a home for us. Two motor ’buses took us to our destination, where some charming young girls received us. We had our first repast here, and shortly afterwards made our arrangements. We were forced to divide ourselves into three little groups for a time. Everywhere we met the same cordiality and kindness, which only deepened when we related our adventures. The Sisters of the Assumption in Kensington were conspicuous for their goodness to us, and even went so far as to offer us their country house at Boxmoor until the end of the Avar. We went there on October 8, happy to find ourselves once more re-united. We endeavored to reorganise our community life, but fresh sacrifices awaited us, for two or three days after our arrival, our dear procuratrix (Sister M. Alphonse) fell ill. At first it seemed merely over fatigue, but soon the illness took a more serious turn. The doctor diagnosed it as heart disease and pneumonia. On October 19, eight days later, death called her from us. She was only 42 years of age, and seemed indispensable to us, being the only member of the community fully

acquainted with our business affairs, which she handled;, i with great dexterity. ‘ The thunder of N the 1 cannons y ■ killed ; me,’ she said ; ‘ I was so frightened,’ and oftener still she repeated ‘My God, 1 offer you my life fbr|^ Belgium and for the Allies.’ A ° Since then, many of our Sisters have been seriously -;1 ill. One of them had to go to hospital to undergofam|P operation. The doctors say that all these illnesses arOyil due to weakness, and their sympathy is wonderful. As for us since we landed in hospitable England, we3|| count our daily sacrifices as nothing, so small are they ?||| iiF comparison to those we endured in Belgium at the fmi outbreak of war. We are happy to offer our little sacrifices for our brothers in arms, who give their lives so generously and for the happiness of the noble and VS magnanimous British nation. • jPpji