"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. "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 few steamers and the fifteen or twenty tugboats available. As there was no one to arrange their systematic embarkation a wild struggle followed amongst the frantic people, to secure a place. Men, women 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.