and
children fought desperately with each other to get on board, and in that
moment of supreme anguish human nature was seen in one of its worst
moods; but who can blame these stricken people?

APPALLED BY THE HORROR OF WAR

"They were fleeing from _les barbares_,' and shells that were destroying
their homes and giving their beloved town to the flames were screaming
over their heads. Their trade was not war. They were merchants,
shopkeepers, comfortable citizens of middle age or more; there were many
women and children among them, and this horror had come upon them in a
more appalling shape than any in which horror had visited a civilized
community in modern times.

"There was a scarcity of gangways to the boats, and the only means of
boarding them was by narrow planks sloping at dangerous angles. Up these
the fugitives struggled, and the strong elbowed the weak out of their
way in a mad haste to escape.

"By 2 o'clock Thursday most of the tugboats had got away, but there were
still some 15,000 people who had not been able to escape and had to
await whatever fate was in store for them.

A GREAT EXODUS OF INHABITANTS

"At the central railway station incidents of a similar kind were
happening. There, as down by the river, immense throngs of people had
assembled, and they were filled with dismay at the announcement that no
trains were running. In their despair they prepared to leave the city
on foot by crossing the pontoon bridge and marching towards the Dutch
frontier. I should say the exodus of refugees from the city must have
totaled 200,000 men, women and children of all ages, or very nearly that
vast number, out of a population which in normal times is 321,800. "I
now return to the events of Thursday, October 8th. At 12.30 in the
afternoon, when the bombardment had already lasted over twelve hours,
through the courtesy of a Belgian officer I was able to ascend to the
roof of the cathedral, and from that point of vantage I looked down upon
the scene in the city.

"All the southern portion of Antwerp appeared to be desolate ruin. Whole
streets were ablaze, and the flames were rising to a height of twenty
and thirty feet.

"From my elevated position I had an excellent view also of the great oil
tanks on the opposite side of the Scheldt. They had been set on fire by
four bombs from a German Taube aeroplane, and a huge thick volume of
black smoke was ascending two hundred feet into the air. It was like a
bit of