To the people of Brussels who crowded around them they spoke in hushed, broken phrases.

The terror of what they had escaped or of what they had seen was upon them.

They had harnessed the plough-horse to the dray or market-wagon and to the invaders had left everything.

What, they asked, would befall the live stock they had abandoned, the ducks on the pond, the cattle in the field?
Who would feed them and give them water?
At the question the tears would break out afresh.

Heart-broken, weary, hungry, they passed in an unending caravan.