the st. elisabeth chapel
by marcel wyseur, registrar to the military court. la panne, august 26, 1915
(to the patriotic devotion of m. louis gilmont)
everyone knows of the admirable institution founded by dr. depage at la panne: "the ocean hospital." a few miles away from the firing line, he has entirely created an establishment which is the most perfect thing of its kind, an institution which, for the last year, has rendered immense service daily. ever since it was opened at the end of 1914, this hospital has been continually enlarged. various detached buildings and several fresh departments have been added to the house as it first stood. the latest improvements, as regards science and hygiene, have been introduced and it does not seem possible that a more complete organisation, answering so thoroughly to all needs, could be carried out at the front. in rendering homage here to those who are responsible for this work of public service, we are only anxious to bear testimony to its utility and to acknowledge the merit of the founders of the institution and of all their devoted collaborators. doctors and nurses alike deserve more than the gratitude of the[pg 369] belgian army and people. they deserve our admiration too.
the last sunday in august, we were present at the inauguration of one of the fresh additions to this immense "everything" which constitutes the ocean hospital. it was the inauguration of the chapel. at the limit of the downs, this simple church, which has sprung out of the earth, as though by magic, faces the sea and the country. it is a building on primitive architectural lines, surmounted by a little sturdy spire. nothing more was necessary. it was certainly a most impressive scene when the little procession of believers wended their way to the service, called there by the bell of the convent of the "pauvres claires" of nieuport. the three naves were soon full. in the choir, her majesty the queen, who had graciously deigned to be present at the ceremony, had taken her place, and behind her were a crowd of wounded soldiers. the altar reflected the light of all the burning tapers, the incense was smoking in the silver vessels, and, over yonder, between the nave and the choir, the organs were singing of joy and happiness. the good saints and the little chubby angels could neither believe their eyes nor their ears. the poor, who had expected to die in the general earthquake when their churches were bombarded and the infernal battle was raging around them, arrived here now from everywhere; from nieuport—the dead; from caeskerke—the sorrowful; from pervyse—the devastated; and from ramscapelle—the solitary. one evening, they had all met in a room. a lamp was burning in front of a tabernacle, there was a kneeling bench for communion, a confessional-box, a pulpit, and some saints, too, as astonished as they were themselves.[pg 370] were they really not dreaming now? was their nightmare over? this was a church, a real church like their own! it was full of people, too, and the psalms were being chanted by the choristers. all this seemed more beautiful than the finest dream, and at this festival they forgot all their past anguish and the nightmares they had lived through. and in the midst of the general devotion, the reverend father hénusse, chaplain to the 84th battery, pronounced the following eloquent words:
"madame,
"we are to-day inaugurating a chapel, which, in our gratitude, we have spontaneously dedicated to st. elisabeth. in the liturgical intention of this dedication, st. elisabeth was that admirable woman, elisabeth d'anjou, a heroine of goodness, gentleness, and charity, whom the catholic church has placed on its altars and about whose touching glory everyone has heard. in our dedication, there is something else though, and no one, at any rate no belgian, will make any mistake about this. in our eyes, the good saint of the twelfth century has been reincarnated in the twentieth century. a few rays from her halo have come to encircle another forehead. her name is repeated once more, but with an accent of veneration and of tenderness, more keenly felt than would be the case for a foreign queen who died long centuries ago. in short, according to us, the ocean chapel has two patron saints. the one is reigning in heaven above in glory, and only lives on earth in the memory of christian generations. the other patron saint is she who reigns over the last sands of what was belgium, but who lives in the hearts of us all.
"when the long ordeal of this war shall have come[pg 371] to an end, this humble chapel of wood, which we hope may become historical, will be clothed afresh in a mantle of stone and adorned with the splendour of souvenirs in its coloured glass windows, and in its frescoes. we shall certainly see then the sweet face of the gentle elisabeth d'anjou, and the miracle of the roses and the miracle of the leper will be evoked for us. we shall see the leper whom st. elisabeth tended with her royal hands, to whom she gave her husband's bed, and who suddenly rose, dazzlingly bright, uttering the one word: 'elisabeth,' for the leper was jesus christ!
"but by the side of those windows, belgian mothers will ask for others and for other frescoes.
"they will want to see their queen, who in time of peace, cared for their little children, their poor little children, some of whom were consumptive through poverty. they will want to see their queen, who, when war broke out, cared for their big children, their poor big children, wounded and mutilated, their health shattered by battle. belgian mothers will want to see her there, near to the other saint, so that they may kneel to her and tell her, whilst on their knees, of the ardent gratitude of their hearts. they will want to see her there, because it is her place, beside him—who pronounced those superhuman words which created charity: 'inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.' they will want to see her there beside christ, who spake the name of saint elisabeth so tenderly, and who, to-day, will surely call another saint by that sweet name, with that accent of infinite tenderness which we all utter, madame, in the respectful and fervent silence of our hearts.
[pg 372]
"madame:
"my dear friends:
"the great royal heart which thought of establishing a military hospital on the coast, on the very edge of the battle-field, and the generous hearts which helped in the realisation of the project, wished to make this establishment as perfect as possible.
"they have succeeded, and our ocean ambulance excites universal admiration.
"by opening this st. elisabeth chapel, perfection in this humanitarian work has been attained. the chapel is an essential part of any hospital. a chapel is necessary everywhere where man suffers, as it is a place for prayer. suffering possesses the mysterious privilege of striking a man hard, of making him think about life. it throws him back on himself, as it were, makes him weep, remember, and dream, and when a man gives himself up to this great inner work, he is not far from finding god. he is ready to pray.
"suffering, too, possesses the precious gift of humiliating a man, of making him feel the nothing that he is, and of making him realise of what little value he is, and when man is humiliated, he is not far from feeling god bending down towards him. he is ready then to pray.
"finally, the effect of suffering is often to plunge a man into deep distress, which makes him so unhappy that he utters the supreme cry: 'help, oh, help me!'
"and when a man cries for help from the bottom of his heart, he is not far from hearing within himself, as though in answer to his appeal, the echo of that infinitely sweet voice which has soothed the miseries of the world for twenty centuries:
[pg 373]
"'come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy-laden, and i will give you rest.'
"this is why the instinct of a man who is suffering is to enter the temple.
"go to the darkest nave of a church, at a moment when the crowd is not bidden to the traditional exercises of worship, and what do you see? women, men, and young people praying, and, on their faces, in their eyes, in their very gestures, one sees that they have experienced sorrow, anxiety, and sadness.
"ask your mothers who are waiting for you, over yonder, in the deepest anguish, where they go in their sorrow and suffering? they will answer you, 'to church.'
"at the present moment, ask where the suffering country takes refuge, now that it is mourning for its lost liberty. the answer will be: 'in the churches, where the presence of god still permits the people to have the comfort of seeing their tri-coloured flag, of hearing the national hymn, and of responding to it with the cry of love and hopefulness: "long live the king! long live liberty!"' i tell you that everywhere where there is suffering, there should be a chapel, in which to shelter one's suffering, under the protecting wing of god!
"but if there be one place of suffering in the world that needs this holy refuge specially, it is the war hospital. the reason of this is on account of the nature of the suffering that men endure there. what is the reason of all this suffering? why are you here sick and wounded, with your arm or your leg amputated, scarred for ever in the beauty and prime of your early manhood? why? for the sake of your brothers. the enemy arrived at the frontier, threaten[pg 374]ing that sacred property, the native land. in order to defend that land, occupied by seven millions of freemen, two hundred thousand of them rose and, seizing their guns, marched forward to meet the invaders. these two hundred thousand went forth to fight, struggle, fall, and die if necessary for the sake of all the others, for the sake of the women, the children, the aged—and even for the sake of the cowardly shirkers who have not even yet grasped what is their duty. the suffering then of these men, our soldiers, is a suffering of immolation, of sacrifice, of devotion, a loving sacrifice.
"you see, then, why you need a chapel, where you can come to find him who revealed to the world the beauty, the value, the fecondity of this suffering, a chapel to which you can come and contemplate the crucified one, the man of nazareth, who left us, saying as he went: 'love one another, give your lives for each other; the great proof of love is that we should be ready to give our lives for those we love.' he went about repeating this until that day when, still quite young, only thirty-three years of age, in the prime of his manhood, adding example to precept, freely and courageously, and, in the sight of his broken-hearted mother, he took up the cross and dragged it along through the city and across the country to calvary. he was then stretched upon it and for three long, mortal hours, under the rays of the sun, he hung upon that cross, dying for those he had loved.
"you need a chapel for those evil hours when, suddenly, you fail to understand the meaning of your suffering and begin to pity yourself, wondering why the lot should have fallen on you, why you should have lost that arm, that hand, that fine workman's[pg 375] tool which was your glory, and with which you earned your living? 'why should my life be cut in two by this mutilation?' you ask. 'why should my youth come to an end half way? why should i be doomed to drag out a miserable existence? why is all this? and of what use is all that blood poured out obscurely in the trenches?'
"when these gloomy thoughts come to you and your soul is filled with bitter agony, you need a chapel, to which you can come and hear the divine reply to your human complaint, the reply given by that very mouth which revealed to the world the benefits of suffering, the value and the virtue of blood that is shed for the sake of love. it is here, in this chapel, that he will repeat to you and explain to you the mysterious words he addressed to his disciples, three days before he went up to calvary.
"'except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.
"'and i, if i be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me.'
"his disciples did not understand this at first, but gradually their eyes were opened to this new light, and very soon the world knew the law of life, which was to be one of the most beautiful truths of christianity: 'when a just man dies, out of his suffering and death shall spring wonderful fruits of light, of truth, and of justice, and life shall become better thereby.' the martyrs gave their blood courageously, and on their tombs their brothers repeat joyfully the great christian words:
"'sanguis martyrum semen christianorum!' (from the blood of martyrs have sprung christians!)
[pg 376]
"you will come here, dear friends, to learn to understand the sublime utility of your wounds and of your suffering, to learn that the trench is not a trench, but a furrow, and that the blood you have shed there is as a seed which will soon give its beautiful fruit of happiness and liberty to those you love. thanks to your blood, your country will live! come often to this little chapel, where christ is always awaiting you. he awaits you here as his brothers, as those whom he loves best, who resemble him the most. come here and pray and remember that your prayer is the most efficacious one of all those that are uttered on earth, because it is your blood crying to god. come and pray for all those for whom your heart is filled with love, for your aged mother, for your little children and for those who are awaiting you in your saddened home. pray that they may have hope and courage given them. come and pray for your brothers-in-arms, those who are continuing the great struggle in which you fell whilst doing your part as brave men. pray that god may keep them courageous and strong. come and pray, too, for the men and women who are devoting themselves so admirably to you here, for those who are helping to relieve your suffering and to heal you. pray that they may have strength given them to carry out their work of pure abnegation and charity. come and pray for the great cause of the allies, the cause of right and justice, which is the cause of god. pray too, that he may soon make it triumph gloriously. come and pray for our beloved country, the noble martyr to honour. pray that our country may know, as christ knew, the great reparation, the supreme rehabilitation, and that after having descended to death, to the death of the cross, our[pg 377] country may be raised by god, that she may obtain a name above all names, that every head may bow before her in the whole universe, and that every tongue shall confess that this little nation is truly great among all nations. come and pray, come and pray often for him and for her who represent, so magnificently, our country and in whom it is incarnated for us. come and pray for the king and for the queen."
