The Germans as Seen from a Convent

[From The London Times, Aug. 16, 1914.]

Some interesting sidelights on the events of the past fortnight in Belgium are provided by extracts from the diary of a young English girl, Miss Lydia Evans, who has just returned from a convent school at Fouron, near Visé. The following are among the entries in this graphic narrative, published in The Evening News:

AUG. 2.—All the people of the village passed down with cows, calves, horses, hay, &c., which they were obliged to send in for the Belgian Army near Liége. The first troop of Prussians came into the village this afternoon on the pretense of having a horse shod.

Aug. 3.—Two more troops of soldiers arrived. The Prussians slept at our convent, some in the park, others on beds in the recreation room. The reverend mother put everything at their disposal. They asked nicely, but gave the impression that if refused they would take more. We all went to bed at 10 o'clock. Everybody got an alarm to dress half an hour afterward. We came down and found the place full of Germans, who were exceedingly polite. They are magnificent. The meanest soldier is perfectly equipped, everything perfectly new, and splendid horses. They are like theatre soldiers, they are so perfect. They were awfully nice, and talked a lot.

Aug. 4.—Between Monday and Tuesday there was a terrible fight between the Germans and Belgians at Visé because the Belgians would not let the Germans pass to get to Liége. The Belgians blew up several big bridges between Visé and Liége, also the one at Visé.

Aug. 5.—One man told us all the villagers had left except himself. The German soldiers were here all day, but are very polite. They always bow and salute. We hear a terrible noise at Visé of bombardment, and a great fusillade in the convent. A wounded man was brought to the convent.

Aug. 6.—A curate near here has been shot. The Germans are very nice if you give them what they want, but if they are refused the pistol comes out. Old Mother Thérèse was at the door when a soldier asked her for a kettle. She refused, and he nearly shot her.

Aug. 7.—A most fearful noise was heard about 2 o'clock. They say that it was a fort blown up. A German aeroplane passed yesterday. The soldiers are camping in the woods. There are seven wounded here. Nearly all the others are taken to Aix-la-Chapelle.

Aug. 8.—Went to mass in the village. A man told us that the Germans had burned two big farms at Warsage (the next village.) Two women and two men arrived from Liége. They said that the people had been living in caves for the last two days and nights. These poor people saw awful sights in coming across the fields, which were covered with dead. We have heard that Berneau is burned and the women and children hung. The Germans are furious at having lost such a number of men before seeing the French. A soldier passed last night, and Maria lifted up a corner of the curtain. In a minute he had out his revolver and threatened to shoot her. Some of the soldiers opposite the convent were drunk.

Aug. 9.—An aeroplane passed right over us, and seemed to drop something white. The soldiers are going about in bands destroying and laying waste every house and garden. They pass with bottles of wine and their pockets bulging out with things they have stolen. They set a house on fire just near the convent. There are 40,000 soldiers between here and Niouland.

Aug. 10.—There was a terrific crash at the door. Four German officers, who had come in a motor, pointed their revolvers and asked for wine. They looked as if they had been drinking. We had a fearful fright after dinner. An officer, followed by a soldier, came to ask us where the curé was, and threatened to shoot us because we could not tell him. Miss MacMahon had to lead him to the rector's house, with a revolver pointed at her back all the way. The houses on either side are burning. The nuns asked the German officers if they would spare the convent. They laughed and said they would make it a cemetery for their dead. They took away the wounded, and as soon as they had gone the nuns woke us up, and we started out, following all the back roads.

A postcard has been received from Miss Agnes Holliday, daughter of a Hammersmith builder, who is at a convent school near Liége, in which she states that on Tuesday night last "the convent was full of German soldiers, to whom we spoke. At Fouron they have had a terrible time."