ers of Antwerp for the fears that
possessed them when the merciless rain of German shells began to fall
into the streets and on the roofs of their houses and public buildings.
The Burgomaster had in his proclamation given them excellent advice to
remain calm and he certainly set them an admirable example, but it was
impossible to counsel the Belgians who knew what had happened to their
fellow citizens in other towns which the Germans had passed through.

Immense crowds of them, men, women and children, gathered along the
quayside and at the railway stations in an effort to make a hasty exit
from the city. Their condition was pitiable in the extreme. Family
parties made up the biggest proportion of this vast crowd of broken men
and women. There were husbands and wives with their groups of scared
children unable to understand what was happening, yet dimly conscious in
their childish way that something unusual and terrible and perilous had
come into their lives.

In many groups were to be seen old, old people, grandfathers and
grandmothers of a family, and these in their shaking frailty and terror,
which they could not withstand, were the more pitiable objects in the
great gathering of stricken townsfolk. This pathetic clinging together
of the family was one of the most affecting sights I witnessed, and I
have not the slightest doubt that in the mad rush for refuge beyond the
borders of their native land many family groups of this sort completely
perished.

All day and throughout the night these pitiful scenes continued, and
when I went down to the quayside early Thursday, when the dawn was
throwing a wan light over this part of the world, I found again a great
host of citizens awaiting their chance of flight.

In the dimness of the breaking day this gathering of "Les Miserables"
presented, as it seemed to me, the tragedy of Belgium in all its horror.
I shall never forget the sight. Words would fail to convey anything but
a feeble picture of the depths of misery and despair there. People stood
in dumb and patient ranks drawn down to the quayside by the announcement
that two boats would leave at 11 o'clock for Ostend, and Ostend looks
across to England, where lie their hopes.

There were fully 40,000 of them assembled on the long quay, and all of
them were inspired by the sure and certain hope that they would be among
the lucky ones who would get on board one of the boats. Alas for their
hopes, the two boats did not sa