The Irish Nuns at Ypres: An Episode of the War

by Dame M. Columban

‘Sometimes they would give us a little money out of their purses to buy biscuits, or cheese, or, as they said, “something to eat.” One Zouave asked us to buy him a pair of socks.

‘At this French Ambulance we also had the joy of making the acquaintance of three soldier-priests, who daily said Mass at the convent, thus giving us the happiness of sometimes hearing five Masses a day. I do not quite remember the names of the priests. I think one was called M. l’Abbé Tecq, another M. l’Abbé Couq of Dijon, and the third was M. l’Abbé Louis Charbonnel of Avignon. This latter was very fond of Benedictines, and gave us a special blessing before leaving, assuring us that we should immediately feel “at home” among our Sisters at Oulton.

‘These priests were more than devoted to the soldiers, administering the last sacraments, and bringing Holy Communion to them, no matter at what time of the day. The little badges of the Sacred Heart also did their work; all the soldiers asked to have them, and insisted on our pinning them ourselves on their clothes; the priests wore them, and distributed hundreds, so that we could scarcely keep pace with their fervour, except by working at them every free minute we had. Some of the infirmarians even asked to have a few to send away in their letters.

‘They wrought many conversions—the soldiers all wanted to have them.’

Again there was dreadful news from Ypres. The hospital was entirely destroyed. The British soldiers had gone with their motor-cars to take away the four nuns, who still risked their lives by staying to tend the poor victims, who were daily struck down in or about the town. Four other nuns had been killed in their cellar. A priest carrying the holy oils to a dying person had been struck down in the street. The Germans had even made new bombs, bigger and more destructive than those used before. What should we do? Would it not be wiser to accept Lady Abbess of Oulton’s kind invitation, and go straight on to England while there was yet time? But our Abbey! Why leave it, if we could possibly return?

We found ourselves surrounded at Poperinghe by every attention which charity could suggest; and although the community of La Sainte Union had often the greatest difficulty to provide for the increased number of fugitives, there being two other communities as well as ourselves, still we received everything that was possible in the circumstances. However, as the officer in charge of the ambulance demanded one thing after another for his soldiers, he came at last to claim the room which had been placed at our disposal. The Superioress was obliged to yield, and the ‘chef’ soon established the supplies of food in what had been our refectory. We were now forced to take possession of the nuns’ refectory, going to our meals before or after theirs. We thus found ourselves at table not only with the two other communities above mentioned, but also with the servants of one of our old pupils, who were also stopping in the convent to help at the ambulance. We managed as best we could, and still kept up our tradition of entering in procession, saying the ‘De profundis,’ and then reciting the Benedictine grace before and after meals. This was not all. There was a door at one end, which led into the room given up to the soldiers; consequently, at any moment, one would appear in the refectory to fetch a loaf of bread, or some meat, &c., and then repass again on his way out. Once, when a priest came, Mother Prioress gave him a pear, as also to the soldier who came after him; but soon the Superioress put up a large screen, which enabled them to enter without disturbing the community. They had a very hard life. Often we saw their shadows through the mat glass as they stood at the windows, eating their dinners in the rain and snow.

And now Our Lord was preparing a cross which we had not counted on, and which added to the grief that already weighed down our hearts. Our poor dear Dame Josephine, already fifty-two years professed, now left us. Feeble and infirm, the shock had been too much for her. The want of good nourishment had also told on her—she was soon obliged to keep her bed, having caught cold. The doctor, on seeing her, declared the case dangerous, and proposed that she should receive the last sacraments. This took place on Friday, November 13, Feast of all the Saints of the Benedictine Order. Alas! we little expected that another one would so soon increase their happy company. Saturday, our dear patient seemed to rally a little, and none of us believed the infirmarian, when, in the evening, she told us she was dying. However, Mother Prioress remained some time alone with Dame Josephine, helping her to renew her vows, and offer up holy aspirations. She herself did not think she was so bad; but, always ready to obey, she followed the prayers suggested by her whom she had known when she had been Sister Maura—a lively, fervent, eighteen-year-old postulant, and whom she had always cared for as a mother. Now that her dearly-loved little novice had grown into her Superioress, she submitted herself with child-like simplicity, asking her blessing morning and evening, thus edifying greatly the whole community. She therefore now made, when Dame Maura proposed it, her act of resignation, should God demand the sacrifice of her life.

Two of us offered to divide the night between us to watch by her bedside. After 1 A.M. she slept a little, though her breathing was difficult. At 2.30 she awoke, and seemed rather restless. Before going down in the morning, Mother Prioress paid Dame Josephine another visit; but we could no longer distinguish what she said. We replaced each other during the Masses; but about 7.30 everyone was called out of church, there being now no more doubt. The Superioress of the house knelt with Mother Prioress close by the bed, and several nuns of both communities joined their prayers to ours, during which our dearest jubilarian breathed forth her innocent soul. It was the Feast of the Dedication of the Churches. Our Lord had chosen the day Himself, for had she not passed her whole religious life in the service of the altar as sacristine? And by a curious coincidence, in which we may again detect the loving attention of the Divine Master, the burial, settled at first for Tuesday, was put off till Wednesday, Feast of the Dedication of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. Sad at any time, the loss of our dear Dame Josephine now appeared doubly so—in exile, and in the midst of so many other trials. She had truly ‘chosen the better part,’ and we felt a sort of relief to know that she had been spared the horrors which we should, in all probability, live to see. Every one showed us the kindest sympathy in our loss. Dame Aloysius and Dame Columban performed the last duties to the dear departed one, and laid her out in the same little parlour where she had come to welcome us, just nine days before, on the evening of our arrival. Every one came to pray by her corpse, all the nuns, the chaplain, even several of our old pupils, who, having taken refuge in Poperinghe, heard of our sad loss—and last of all, poor old Edmund who for a moment forgot his own troubles to grieve over dear Dame Josephine whom, like everyone else, he had esteemed and respected. Each, as they left the little room, where such a peaceful silence reigned, declared they had never before seen such a holy and happy death.

Thanks to the intervention of M. Vander Meersch, already mentioned, and who was a personal friend of the burgomaster of Poperinghe, Mother Prioress obtained permission to place the dead body, having previously secured it in a double coffin, in a private vault in the cemetery; so that if—which God grant—we are able to rebuild our Monastery at Ypres, we shall then lay dear Dame Josephine with her other religious Sisters.

We recited the Office of the Dead round the holy remains, in the convent chapel, and sang the Requiem Mass at the funeral. This latter should have really taken place in the parish church, but the Curé, kindly sympathising with our numerous trials, offered to perform it at the convent so that we should be thus enabled to keep our enclosure as much as possible. We sang the Mass (at which all attended) with great devotion, in spite of the severe colds we had all caught. At the moment of consecration, when, in deepest recollection, we adored ‘Our Lord and our God,’ Who thus deigned to come down from Heaven among His sorrowing children, the well-known hiss of a descending bomb made itself heard, and in the same moment a formidable explosion took place quite close to us. The Holy Sacrifice continued without interruption. It was only afterwards we heard that the Germans had aimed at the ambulance established, as has been said, in La Sainte Union. Missing us by a few yards only, the bomb had struck the house next door, doing, however, but little damage. Four girls of the Congregation of Our Blessed Lady carried the coffin to the cemetery, while the nuns of the house accompanied our community. The sad little procession wound its way along the muddy streets, amidst troops of civilians and soldiers. Nearly all saluted as it passed. The prayers being sung at the grave, the coffin was deposited in the vault, and we returned silently, stopping to recite ‘De profundis’ at the little portion of ground allotted to the dead nuns of La Sainte Union.