The Glenwood post., 1914-10-17
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the vsvee~ Pc.
international News 0eevice.)
Antwerp, Belgium. - An Englisl
woman. Miss Louise Mack. . veil
known writer of fiction. has written
q vivid description OF this ancient sea
port in wartime. which the German
are attacking. The town has becon
the haven of Thousands Of refugees
Belgians, British and Americans. Th
capital Of Belgium was transferre>.
here from Brussels. and German Yep
pelins brought the city into promi-
nence by bombarding 1t from the skies
at night. Miss Mack writes:
SLOWLY. painfully. through the bias
ing summer day, our long. brown train
goes creeping towards Anves. An
vers! The name has grown into -
emblem Of hope In these saA days,
when the Belgians are 1esiag for their
lives from their httIs hooss anoag
the lat, greea pastures. 1Ssiag
towards their own feetiAe1 siu tAat
vs English know - AatwssA q slss
directing their 1aspseats. na6Asne6
aigAGs 70 ths ins9Ahao psacs aAl -
eus4ty OF The fa1-o9 a1A AystssisO
.AAgietsrre'
"Dss then st svssy 0eatia0 esovllag
In! IA-tAsy crowd. Aaa1lAG lhsa saanA.
lrivsa cattls. a.1 alvays ~ Doos.
whitsfAesA ws0s0 WoGA tAsir W..
isaossst syss havs bsltss u thsk
arms aAd chilArsa taegiAg p tAslB
skirts. Wherever ws 49, ~ ~ ~
DaatforNs lined tsa AssN. - " ~
wilAnsss With whieA ~ ~ tAsas
vay in1s the alrsaAyeSseW1e1 ean1aes
eas knsws the psnt-sD terrsr II tAsss
poor. sinpls hearts. Thsy Dsst Ct
in. they must. What0vue happeas
they must get insiAs ~ traan. ADA
sooa every -compartDeot b packed
and % We 60 through ths stifiing.
binding August day inwAr1s toward
Anvers.
Mem for ssiAIsr pssrssa
"Ah, but when . soldier comes
along how eager everyone b to find
place for him. Not one q a. bua
would gladly give our seat or cur
standing room up to q 'soldat,' and
when our wounded soldiers from Ma
lines appear at the doors We perform
, miracles in that long, brown train
We squeeze ourselves to nothing.
"A soldier is talking. How
We listen! Never did divine or states
man get such . hearing as that blue,
worn-out, wounded man, white with
dust. clogged with mud, his yellow
beard weeks old on his young face,
with his poor feet in their broken,
revaged boots. and his red and blue
cap blackened with smoke and hard
ened with earth where he has slept
among the beets and potatoes.
"'At Malines.' he is telling us in 4
faint voice, at intervals l often saw
the king. He was there. He was
fighting. I saw him several times. II
was quite near him. He had bravery
magnificent, our king. l saw a can
non exploding just bare yard from
where he was. Over and over again
saw his face, always calm, resolute.
hope all is well with him. he ends
forlornly. but in battle one knows
nothing
IAN is well,' cry a dozen eager
voices. The king is back at Antwerp
now. He is safe IN his palace
In the Ghent Cathedral.
Hour after hour goes by. Two
hours wait at Ghent, and we rush in
'voiture' round the beautiful old
city. finding everything quite calm
here, and not sign of the Germans
anywhere. We enter the cathedral
1t is Saturday morning, but crowds of
people are there telling their rosaries.
Then 4 priest begins a sermon, and
hear words that l am destined to hear
again later on At Antwerp-words that
have already begun to form the noble
keynote to the Belgian character. Re-
member this, my children, says the
little priest seal le silence est grand:
b rests est faiblesse. (Only silence
d great: the rest il weakness.)
Antwerp at last. and the first vs
see Of Il = q bswiidering mass Of
taxicabs arrayed in the middle of wide.
green Aelds at the city's outskirts, for
an taxas an1 no4or cars have been
conMandsersd by the government At
Antwerp. Near the taxis is q neld Of
AytAG nachtnes, biplanes, monoplaAes,
atrships. . nasnihcent array Of air
craft. with the sunlight glittering over
tAsa Ike silver. The Zeppelin caught
them unawafes he other night. They
win Asvsr - caught like that again.
In The 1sld tAsre soes on q ceaseless
activity-they are always ready now
aAd always getting still more ready.