My war experiences in two continents

MY WAR, EXPERIËNCES" , " -

IN TWO CONTINENTS

S. MACNAUGHTAN

MY WAR EXPERIIçNCES
IN TWO CONTINENTS

Cmcra Portrait by E. O. Hopp0

M¥ WAR EXPERIENCES

IN TWO

CONTINENTS

Bv S. MACNAUGHTAN

EDITED BY HER NIECE, MRS. LIONEL SALMON
(BETTY KEA¥S-YOUNG)

WITH A PORTRAIT

LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, Wo
99

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
IN kCCORDAN('E WITH A WIH EXPRESSED
MISS MACNAUGHTAN BEFORE HER DEATH,
ro
TH()SE VH() ARE FI(;II'I'IN(;
THOSE WIt() HAVE FAI,I,EN,
WITH ADMIRATION AND RESPECT
AND TO
HEI{ NEPHEWS.
CPTIN l,loNr:L S.«LMO, Ist Bn. the Welch Regt.
CAl'TAIN H:LI: I)ERrlVAI,, 51.('., 9th lin. the Vel«h Ret.
C.AAIN AI,A" Yot'«. 2n(l B[I. the Weh.h l{e.
('AI»TAIN Ç'oLIN IAcNAI ;HTAN 211d DrOOll (llrds.
,IEUTENANT RI,'HARD YOt''G 9th n. t},e 'el{'}l Re.

ANI)

CONTENT

PREFACE

I'ART i
BEI, GI[IM

ANTWERP

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 1I
WITH DR. HECTOR MUNRO'8 FLYING AMBULANCE
CORPS - - -

24

CHAPTER I11
AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION -

CHAPTER IV
WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES -

85

CHAPTER V
THE SPRING OFFENSIVE -

I11

CHAPTER VI
LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS -
vii

135

viii CONTENTS

PART II
AT HOME
HOW THE MESSAGE WAS DEL]VERED

PAGE
1,59

PART II1
RUSSIA AND THE PESIAN FRONT
CHAPTER I
PETROG RA D - -

17»

CHAPTER I!
WAITING FOR WORK-

- 204

CHAPTER III
SOME IMPRESSION8 ()F TIFL1S AND ARMEN1A-

219

CHAPTER IV
ON 'FHE PERSIAN FRONT -

237

CHAPTER V
THE LA8T JOURNEY

258

CONCLUSION
INDEX

272
281

I'I{EFACE

I.- presenting these extracts ri'oto the diaries of
my aunt, the late Miss Blacnaughtan, I feel it
necessary to explain hov they corne to be published,
and the circumstances mder which 1 have under-
taken to edit them.
After M iss Macnaughtm's death, her executors
round among her papers a great number of diaries.
There were twety-five closely written volumes,
which extended over a period of as may years,
and formed an almost complete record of every
incident of her lire during that rime.
It is amazing that the journal was kept so re-
gularly, as M iss M aenaughtan suffered from writer's
cramp, and the entries could only have been written
with great difficulty. Frequently a passage is
begun in the writing of ber right, and finished i
that of her lef hand, and I have seen ber obliged
to grasp her pencil in ber clenched fist belote she
was able to indite a line. In only one volume,
however, do we find that she availed herself of the
services of her secretary to dictate the entries and
have them typed.
The executors tbund it extremely difficult to
know how to deal with such a vast mass of material.
Miss 51acnaughtan was a very reserved woman
ix

x PREFACE
She lived much alone, and the diary was her only
confidante. In one of her books she says that ex-
pression is the most insistent of human needs, and
that the inarticu]ate man or woman who finds no
outlet in speech or in the affections, vill often keep
a little locked volume in which self can be safely
revealed. Her diary occupied just such a place in
ber own inner lire, and for that reason one hesitates
to submit its pages cven to the most loving and
sympathetic scmtiny.
But Miss Macnaughtan's diary fulfilled a double
purpose. She used it largely as material for ber
books. Ideas for stories, fragments of plays and
novels, are sketched in on spare sheets, and the
pages are full of the original theories and ideas of
a wolnan who never allowed anyone else to do her
thinking for her. A striking sermon or book may
be criticised or discussed, the pros aud cons of
some measure of social reform weighed in the
balance ; and the actual daily chronicle of her busy
lire, of her travels, her various experiences and
adventures, lnakes a most interesting and fasci-
nating tale.
So much of the material was obviously intended
to form the basis for an autobiography that the
executors came to the conclusion that it would be
a thousand pities to withhold it from the public,
and at some future date it is very much hoped to
produce a complete life of Miss Macnaughtan as
narrated in her diaries. Meanwhile, however, the
publisher considers that Miss Macnaughtan's war
experiences are of immediate interest to her many
friends and admirers, and I bave been asked to edit

PREFACE xi

those volumes whieh refer to her work in lelgiuln,
at home, in Russia, and on tle l'ersian front.
Exeept for an oeeasional word where the meaning
was obscure, I have added nothing to the diaries.
I have, of eourse, omitted such passages as appeal'ed
to be private or of falnily interest ody ; but other-
wise I have contented myseif with a slight re-
arrangement of sonle of the p:wa.ffraphs, and I have
inserted a feu" letters and extraets ti'om letters,
whieh give a more interesting or detailed aeeount
of some incident than is found in the eorresponding
entry in the diary. Vith these exceptions tle
book is published as Miss Maenaughtan wrote it.
I feel sure that ber own story of her experienees
would lose mueh of its eharm il' I interfered with
it, and for this reason I bave preserved the aetual
diary form in vhieh it was written.
'fo many readers of Miss 51aenaugltan's books
ber diaries of the war lnay corne as a siight surprise.
There is a note of depression and sadness, and
perhaps even of criticism, running through them.
which is lacking in ail her earlier writings. I wouhl
remind people that this book is the work of a dying
woman ; during the whole of the period covercd by
it, the author was seriously iii, and the horror and
misery of the war, and the burden of a great deal
of personal sorrow, bave let't their mark on her
account of her experiences.
I should like to thank those relations and friends
of Miss Macnaughtan who have allowed me to read
and publish the letters incorporated in this book.
and I gratefully acknowledge the help and advice I
have received in my task ri-oto my mother, from

xii Iq/EFACE

my husband, and fom Miss Hilda l'owell, Mr.
Stenning, and Mr. R. Sommerville. I desire also to
express lny gn'atitude to Mr. John Murray for many
valuable hints and suggestions about the book, and
fbr the trouble he has so kindly taken to help me
to prepare it for the press.
BETTY SALMON.

ZILLEBEKE» 'ALTHA3I ST. LAar.NcE,
"I'w''FOlt D» BERKSHIRE,
Or/obcr, 1918.

MY WAR EXPERIENCES IN
TWO CONTINENTS

I'A RT I
BEI,GIUM

C tl A P T E R !

ANTWERP

()N September 2oth, 1914, I let london
Antwerp. At the statiol I round I had tbrgotten
my passport and Mary had to tear back for it.
Great perturbation, but kept this dark flore the
rest of the stafl; t0r they are ail rather serious
and I ara head of the orderlies. We got under
way at  a.m. next morning. Ail in.tantly began
to be sick. I think I was the worst and alarmed
everybody within hearig distance. Oue more
voyage I hopehomethen dry land for me.
We arrived at Antwerp on the 22n(1, twenty-four
hours late. The British Consul sent carriages, etc.,
to meet us. Drove to the large Philharlnofic Hall,
which has been given us as a hospital. Immediately
affer breaktst we began to unpack beds, etc., and
our enormous store of medical things ; all feeling
remarkably empty alld queer, but put on heroic
l

o A NTVERP
smiles and worked like mad. Some of the stafl
is housed in a convent and the test in rooms over
the Philharmonic Hall.
23 September.--Began to get things into order
and to allot each person her task. Our unit
consists of Mrs. St. Clair Stobart, its head ; Doctors
Rose Turner, F. Stoney, Watts, 5iorris, Hanson
and Ralnsey (ail women); orderlies--me, 31iss
Randell (interpreter), 5Iiss Perry, Dick. Stanley,
Benjamin, Godfrey Donnisthorpe, Cunliffe, and
Mr. Glade. Everyone very zealous and inclined to
do anybody's work except their own. Keen com-
petition for evçryone else's tools, brooms, dusters,
etc. Great roaming about. All mean well.
25 September.Forty wounded men were
brought into our hospital yesterday. Fortunately
we had everything ready, but it took a bit of doing.
Vre are all dead tired, and hot so keen as we were
about doing other people's work.
The wounded are not very bad, and have been
sent on here from another hospital. They are
enehanted with their quarters, whieh indeed do
look uneommonly niee. One hundred and thirty
beds are ranged in rows, and we have a bright
eounterpane on eaeh and elean sheets. The floor is
serubbed, and the bathrooms, store, office, kitehens,
and reeeiving-rooms have been ruade out of nothing,
and look splendid. I never saw a hospital spring
up like magie in this way before. There is a wide
verandah where the men play eards, and a garden
to stump about in.
The gratitude of our patients is boundless, and
they have presented Mrs. Stobart with a beautiful

THE DEFENCES OF THE TOWN 3

basket of growing flowers. I do not thilk English-
men would have thought of sueh a thig. They
say they never tasted sueh eooking as ours outside
Paris, and they are rioting in good food, papers,
niee beds, etc. Nearly all of thcln are able to get
out a little, so it is quite eheery nursing them.
There is a lot to do, and we ail fly about in white
caps. The keenest eompetition is tbr sweeping out
the ward xvith a long-handled hair brush !
I xvent into the town to-day. It is very like
every other foreign town, with broad streets and
tram-lines and shops and squares, but to-day I had
an interesting drive. I took a car and went out to
the second line of forts. The whole place was a
mass of wire entanglelnents, mined at every point,
and the fields were studded with strong wooden
spikes. There were guns everywhere, and in one
plaee a whole wood and a village had been laid
level with the ground to prevent the enemy taking
eover. We heard the sound of firing last lfight !

To Mrs. Keays- l'oung.
RUE DEL'I{RMONIE JS, ANTWERP,
25 September.
DEAREST BABE
It was delightful getting your letter. ()ur
wounded are all French or Bclgians, l)ut there is a
bureau of enquiry in the town where I will go to
try to hear tidings of your poor friends.
SVe heard the guns firing last night, and fifty
wounded were sent in during the aftemoon. In one
day 2,500 wounded reached Antwerp. I can write
this sort of thing to-day as I know my letter will

 ANTWERP
be all right. To show you that the fighting is
pretty near, two doctors went for a short motor
drive to-day and they round two wounded men.
One was just dying, the other they brought back
in the car, but he died also. In the town itself
everything seems much as usual except for crowds
of refugees. Do not believe people when they say
German barbarity is exaggerated. It is hideously
true.
¥e are fearfully busy, and it seems a queer side
of war to cook and race around and nmke doctors
as comfortable as possible. Ve have a capital
staft; who are ruade up of zeal and muscle. I do
hot know how long it can last. Ve breakfast at
7.;]0, which means that most of the orderlies are up
at 5.45 to prepare and do everything. The rare is
very plain and terribly wholesome, but hardly any-
one gmmbles. I ara trying to get girls to take
two hours off duty in the day. but they won't
do it.
Have you any fl'iends who would send us a good
big lot of nice jam. It is for the staff. Ifyou
eould send some cases of it at once to Miss Stear,
;]9, St. James's Street, London, and put my naine
on it, and say it is for out hospital, she will bring it
here herself with some other things. Some of your
country friends might like to help in a definite
little way like this.
Vour loving
SAfAri.

 is going to England to-night and will take
this.

ARRIVAL OF rOUNDED 5

27 September.Yesterday, when we were in the
town, a German airsbip flew overhead and dropped
bombs. A lot of guns fired at it, but it was too
high up to lait. The incident caused some excite-
lnent in the streets.
last night ve heard that more womded were
coming in from the fighting-line near Ghent. Ve
got sixty more beds ready, and sat up late, boiling
water, sterilising instruments, preparing operating-
tables and beds, etc., etc. As it got later all the
lights in the huge ward were put out, and we welt
about with little torehes amongst tie slecping
lnen, putting things in order and moving t» tip-toe
in the dark. I,ater we heard that the wounded
might hot get in till Monday.
The work o[' this place goes on uneeasingly.
We all get on well, but I lmve hot got the
communal spirit, and the tiret of beig a Ulfit of
women is hot the side of it that I find most
interesting. The eolnmunal food is my despair.
I ean hot eat it. A ll the same this is a fine
experienee, and I bope we'l| eome well out of it.
There is boundless opportunity, and we are in luek
to have a chance of doing our darndest.
28 September.--Last night I and two orderlies
slept over at the hospital as more wounded were
expeeted. At l I p.m. word came that "les
blessés" were at the gate. Men were on duty
vith stretchers, and we went out to the traln-way
ears in whieh the wounded are. brougbt from the
station, twelve patients in eaeh. The trtmsit is
as little painful as possible, and the stretehers
are plaeed in iron braekets, and are simply

6 ANTVERP
unhooked when the men arrive. Each stretcher
was brought in and laid on a bed in the
ward, and the nurses and doctors undressed the
men. Vre orderlies took their names, their
" matricule " or regimental number, and the
number of their bed. Then we gathered up their
clothes and put corresponding numbers on labels
attached to them--first turning out the pockets,
which are filled with all manner of things, from tins
of sardines to loaded revolvers. They are ail very
l)ockety, but have to be turned out before the
clothes are sent to 1)e baked.
We arranged everythñg, and then got Oxo for
the men, many of whom had had nothing to eat for
two days. They are a nice-]ooking lot of men and
boys, with rather handsome faces and clear eyes.
Their absolute exhaustion is the most pathetic thing
about them. They fall asleep even when their
wounds are being dressed. Vhen all was ruade
straight and comfortable fbr them, the nurses turned
the lights low again, and stepped softly about the
ward with their little torches.
A hundred beds all filled with meu in pai give
one plenty to think about, and it is during sleep
that their attitudes of suttring strike one most.
Some of them bury their heads in their pillows as
shot partridges seek fo bury theirs amongst autumn
leaves. Others lie very stiff and straight, and all
look very thin and haggard. I was struck by the
contrast between the pillared concert-hall where
they lie, with its platform of white paint and
decorations, and the tragedy of suffering which now
fills it.

A VISIT FROM SOME ESERTERS 7

At 2 a.m. more soldiers were brought in from
the battlefield, ail caked with dirt, and we began to
work again. These last blinked oddly at the
concert-hall and nurses and doctors, but I think
they do not question anything much. They only
want to go to sleep.
I suppose that women would always be tender-
hearted towards deserters. Three of them arrived
at the hospital to-day with some absurd story about
having been told to report themselves. We got
them supper and a hot bath and put them to bed.
One ean't regret it. I ever saw mel sleep as
they did. All through the noise of the wounded
being brougit in, all through the turned-up
lights and bustle they never even stirred, but a
sergeant diseovered them, and at 3 a.m. they were
marehed away again. We got them breakfast and
hot tea, and at least they had had a few hours
between elean sheets. These men seem to earry
so mueh, and the roads are heavy.
At 5 o'eloek I vent to bed and slept till 8.
Mrs. Stobart never tests. I think she must be
ruade of' some substance that the rest of' us bave
hot diseovered. At 5 a.m. I diseovered her eurled
up on a beneh in ber oflîee, the doors wide open
and the dawn breaking.
20etober.--Here is a short aeeount of one
vhole day. Firing went on all night, Solnetilnes it
came so near that the vibration of it vas rather
startling. In the early morning ve heard that the
tbrts had been heavily fired on. One of them
remained silent for a long rime, and then the
garrison lighted eart-loads of straw in order to

8 ANTWERP
deceive the Germans, who fell into the trap,
thinking the fort was disabled and on tire, and
rushed in to take it. 'Fhey were met with a
flrious cannonade. But one of the other forts has
fallen.
At 7 a.m. the men's bread had not arrived for
their t? o'clock breakfast, so I went into the town
to get it. The difflculty ,wts to convey home
twenty-eight large loares, so I went to the barracks
and begged a motor-car ri'oto the Belgiau ofticer
and came back triumphant. The military cars
simply rip through the streets, blowing their horns
all the rime. Antwerp ,vas thronged with these
cars, and each one cotained soldiers. Sometimes
one sav wounded in them lying on sacks stuffed
with straw.
I came down to breakfast half-an-hour late
(8 o'clock) and we had out usual fareporridge,
bread and margarine, and tea with tinned milk
amazingly nasty, but quite wholesome and filling
at the price. We bave reduced out housekeeping
to ninepence per head per day. After breaktst I
eleaned the two bouses, as I do every morning,
ruade nine beds, swept floors and dusted stairs, etc.
Vhen my rooms were done and jugs tilled, out
nice little cook gave me a cup of soup in the
kitchen, as she generally does, and I went over to
the hospital to help prepare the men's dira,er, my
task to-day being to open bottles and pour out
beer for a hundred and twenty men; then. when
the meat was served, to procure fi'om the kitchen
and serve out gravy. Out own dinner is at l.e,0.
Afterwards I went across to the hospital again

A TAUBE OVERHEAD 9

and arranged a few thilgS with Mrs. Stobart. 1
began to correct the men's diagnosis sheets, but
was called oit to help with wounded arriving, and
to label and sort their clothes. .Iust then the
British 51inister, Sir Francis Villiers, and the
Surgeon-General, Sir Cecil Herslet, came i to see
the hospital, and we proceeded to show them round,
whcn the somd of firing began quite close to us
and we rushed out into the garden.
From out the blue, clear autumu sky came a
great grey dove flying serenely overhead. This
was a German aeroplanc of the class callcd the
Taube (dove). These aeroplanes are quite beautit'ul
in design, and fly with amazing rapidity. This one
wafted over our hospital with ail the grace of a
living creature "cahn in the consciousness of
wings," and tben, of course, we let fly at it. From
ail round us shells were sent up into the vast blue
of the sky, and still the grey dove went on in its
gentle-looking flight. Vrhoever was in it must
have been a brave lnan! Ail round him shells
were flyingone touch and he must have dropped.
The smoke fl-om the burst shells looked like little
vhite clouds in the sky as the dove sailed away
into the blue again and was seen no more.
lVe returned to our work in hospital. The
men's supper is at six o'clock, and we began cutting
up their bread-and-butter and cheese and filling
their bowls of beer. lVhen that was over and
visitors were going, an order calne for thirty patients
to proceed to Ostend and make room for worse
cases. We were sorry to say good-bye to theln,
especially to a nice fellow whom we call Alfred

10 ANTVERP
because he can speak English, and to Sunny Jim,
who positively refused to leave.
Poor boys I Vith each batch of the wounded,
disabled creatures who are carried in, one feels in-
clined to repeat in wonder, " Can one man be
responsible for ail this ? Is it for one man's hmatic
vanity that men are putting lumps of lead into
each other's hearts and lungs, and boys are lying
with their heads blown off, or with their insides
beside them on the ground ?" hC there is a
splendid fi'eedom about being in the midst of death
--a certain glory in it, which one can't explain.
A piece of shell fell t]n-(mgh the roof of the
hospital to-day--evidently a part of one that had
been fired at the Taube. It fell close beside the
bed of one of our wounded, and he went as white
as a ghost. It must be pretty bad to be powerless
and have shells falling around. The doctors tell
me that nothing moves them so much as the terror
of the men. Their nerves are simply shattered,
and everything frightens them. Rather late a man
was brought in ri'oto the forts, terribly wounded.
He was the oldy survivor of twelve comrades who
stood together, and a shell fell amongst them,
killing ail but this man.
At seven o'clock we moved all the furniture from
Mrs. Stobart's office to the dispensary, where she
will have more room, and the day's work was then
over and night vork began for some. The Germans
have destroyed the reservoir and the water-supply
has been eut off, so we bave to go and fetch ail the
water in buckets from a well. After supper we go
with out pails and carry it home. The shortage

ORDERS TO EVACUATE THE HOSPITAI. 11

for washing, cleaning, etc., is rather inconvenient,
and adds to the danger in a large hospital, and to
the risk of typhoid.
40ctober.--Yesterday out work was hardly over
when 5Irs. Stobart sent a smnnlons to ail of us
"" heads" to corne to ber bureau. Shc had grave
news for us. The British Consul had just been to
say that ail the English must leave Antwerp ; two
ibrts had fallen, and the Germans were hourly
expected to begin shelling tle town. We were
told that all the wounded who could travel were to
go to Ostend, ad the worst cases were to bc tr:,s-
ferred to the llilitary ltospital.
I do hot thik it would be easy to describe the
cotffusion that followed. Ail the men's clothes
had to be round, and they had to bc got into them,
and woe betide if a little cap or ohl candle was
missing ! Ail wanted servig at oce ; ail wanted
food before starting. I the midst of the general
mêlée I shall always remember oc girl, silently,
quickly, and ceaselessly slicing bread with a loaf
pressed to her waist, and handing it across the
counter to the men.
With one or two exceptions the statt" ail wanted
to remain in A ntwerp. I myself decidcd to abandon
the unit and stay on here as an individual or go to
Ostend with the men. Mrs. Stobart. being re-
sponsible, had to take the unit home. It was a case
of leaving immediately ;.we packed what stores we
could, but the beds and X-ray apparatus and ail
our material equipment would have to be left to
the Germans. I think all felt as though they were
running away, but it was a military order, and the

1 ANTWERP
Consul, the British Minister, and the K ing and
Queen were leaving. We went to eat lunch
together, and as we were doing so Mrs. Stobart
brought the news that the Consul had corne to say
that reinforeements had corne up, the situation
ehanged for the better, and for the present we
nfight remain. Anyone who wanted to leave
might do so, but only four did.
We have sinee heard xvhat happened. The
British Milfister cabled home to say that Antwerp
was the key to the whole situation and must not
fall, as once i here the Gerlnans would be strongly
entrenched, supplied with provisions, ammunition,
and everything they want. A Cabinet Council
was held at : a.ln. in london, and reilfforcements
were ordered up. Vinstou Churchill is here with
Marines. They say Colonel Kitchener is at the
forts.
The firing sounds verynear. Dr. Hector Munro
and Miss St. Clair and Lady Dorothy Fielding
came over.to-day from Ghent, where all is quiet.
They wanted me to return with them to take a
test, which was absurd, of course.
Some fearful cases were brought in to us to-day.
My God, the horror of it ! One has heard of men
whom their mothers xvould hot recognise. Some
of the wounded to-day were CÙngst these. Ail
the morlfing we did what we could for them. One
man was riddled with bullets, and died very soon.
It is awful work. The great bell rings, and we
say, " More wounded," and the men get stretchers.
re go down the long, cold covered way to the
gare and number the men for their different beds.

ARRIVAL OF BRITISH TROOPS 13
The stretchers are stiff with blood, and the clothes
have to be cut oit the men. They cry out terribly,
and their horror is so painful to witness. They are
so young, and they have seen right iuto hell. The
first dressings are removed by the doctors--sonle-
rimes there is only a lump of cotton-wool to fill up
a hole--and the men lie there with their tragic
eyes fixed upon one. All day a nurse has sat by a
man who has becn shot through the lungs. Each
breath is painful ; it does hot bear writing al)out.
The pity of it ail just breaks one's hcart. But I
suppose we do hot see ncarly the worst of the
wounded.
The lights are all off at eight o'clock now, and we
do our work in the dark, while the orderlies hold
little torches to enable the doctors to dress the
wounds. There are not hai.f enough nurses or
doctors out here. In one hospital there are 400
beds and only two trained nurses.
Some of our own troops came through the town
in London omnibuses to-day. It was quite a
Moment, and we felt that all was well. IVe went
to the gare and shook hands with them as they
passed, and they made jokes and did us all good.
We cheered and waved handkerchiefs.
5-60«tober.--I think the last two. days have
been the most ghastly I ever remember. Every
day seems to briug nexvs of defeat. It is awful,
and the Germans are quite close now. As I write
the house shakes with the firing. Our troops are
falling back, and the forts have fallen. Last night
we took provisions and water to the cellars, and
made plans to get the wounded taken there.

14 ANTWERP

They say the town will be shelled to-morrow.
All these last two days bleeding men have been
brought in. To-day three of them died, and I
suppose none of them was more than 2-3. We
bave to keep up all the tilne and show a good
face, and meals are quite eheery. To-day, Tuesday,
was our last chance of leaving, and only two went.
The guns boom by day as well as by night, and
as each one is heard one thinks of more bleeding,
shattered men. Itis calm, lfice autumn weather ;
the trees are yelloxv in the garden and the sky is
blue, yet all the rime one listens to the cries of men
in pain. To-night I meant to go out for a little,
but a nurse stopped me and asked me to sit by a
dying lllall. Poor felloxv, he was twenty-one, and
looked like some brigand chief, and he smiled as
he xvas dying. The horror of these two days will
last always, and there are many more such days to
corne. Everyone is behaving well, and that is all
I care about.
70ctobcr.--lt is a glorious morning : they will
see well to kill each other to-day.
The guns go ail day and ail night. ïhey are so
close that the earth shakes with them. Last night
in the infernal darkness xve were turning xvounded
men away from the door. There was no room for
them even on the floor. The Belgians scream
terribly. Our OWll lllell suleer quite quietly. One
of theln died to.-day.
Day and night a stream of vehicles passes the
gare. It never eeases. Nearly all are motors,
driven at a furious paee, and they sound horns ail
the rime. These are met by a stream of carts and

THE SITUATION GETS WORSE 15
old-fashioned vehicles bringing in country people,
who are flying to the coast. In Antwerp to-day
it was " sauve qui peut "! Nearly ail tbe men are
going--Mr. --, who has helped us, and Mr. ,
they are going to bicycle into Holland. A
surgeon (Belgian)bas fled fa-oto his hospital, leaving
seven hundred beds, and there seem to be a great
many deserters ti-om the trenches.
The news is still the sanie--" very bad"; some-
rimes I walk t( the gare and ask returning soldiers
how the battle goes, but the answer never varies.
At lunch-tilne to-day firing ceascd, and ! heard it
was because the Gerlnan guns were COlllillg tlp.
We got orders to send away ail the wounded who
eould possibly go, and ve prepared beds in the
eellars for those vho eannot 1)e moved. 'Fixe
military authorities beg us to remain as so lnany
hospitals have been evaeuated.
The wounded continue to eome in. Oe sees
one car iii the endless stream moving slowly (most
of them .ri!! with their oftieers sitting upright, or
with aeroplanes on long earriages), and one knows
by the paee that more womded are coming.
Inside oue sees the horrible six shelves behind the
eanvas eurtain, and here and there a bound-up
limb or head. One of our men had his leg taken
off to-day, and is doing vell. Nothing goes on
mueh behind the seenes. The yells of the men are
plainly heard, and to-day, as I sat beside the lung
man who was taking so long to die, someone
brought a saek to me, and said, " Ïhis is for the
leg." Ail the orderlies are on duty in the hospital
now. We ean spare no one for rougher work.

16

We ean ail bandage and
are wounded everywhere,
the platform of the hall.

ANTWERP
wash patients. There
even on straw beds on

Darkness seems to fall early, and it is the
darkness that is so baflïing. At 5 p.m. we have
to feed everyone while there is a little light, then
the groping about begins, and everyone falls over
things. There is a clatter of basins on the floor or
an over-turned chair. Any sudden noise is rather
trying af present because of the booming of the
guns. At 7 last night they wcre much louder than
before, with a sort of strange double sound, and we
were told that these were our " Long Toms," so
we hope that our Naval Brigade bas corne up.
We know very little of what is going on except
when we run out and ask some returning English
soldiers for news. Yesterday it was always the
saine reply " Very bad." One of the Marines told
me that Vinston Churchill vas " up and down the
road anaongst the shells," and I was also told that
he had given orders that Antwerp vas not tobe
taken till the last man in it was dead.
Ïhe Marihes are getting horribly knocked about.
Yesterday Mrs. O'Gormon vent out in her ovn
motor-car and picked wounded out of the trenches.
She said that no one knew why they were in the
trenches or where they were to fire--they just lay
there and were shot and then left.
I think I bave seen too much pain lately. At
vValworth one saw women every day in utter pain,
and now one lives in an atmosphere of bandages
and blood. I asked some of the orderlies to-day
what it was that supported them most ata crisis

HOW WE KEPT UP OUR COURAGE 17
•
of this sort. The ansvers varied, and were
interesting. I myself am surprised to find that
religion is not lny best support. Vhen I go
into the little chapel to pray itis all too tender,
the divine 5Iother and the Child and the holy
atlnosphere. I begin to feel rather sorry for
myself, I don't know why; then I go and more
beds and feel better ; but I haxre tbuud that just
to behave like a well-bred woman is what keeps
me up best. I had thought that the Flag or
Religion would have beeu stronger incentives
to me.
Our own soldiers seen to find self-respect thcir
best asset. It is anazing to ste the difference
between them and the Belgians, who are terribly
poor hands at bearing pain, and beg for morphia
ail the time. An ofticer to-day had to have a loose
tooth out. He insisted on having cocaine, ad
then begged the doctor to be careful !
The firing now is furious--sometimes there are
rive or six explosions almost simultaneously. I
suppose we shall read i the "lTmes that " ail is
quiet," and in Lc ,]latia that "pour le reste tout
est calme."
The staffare doing well. They are generally too
busy to be frightened, but one has to speak once
or twice to them belote they hear.
On Vedlmsday night, the 7th Octobel', we heard
that one more ship was going to England, and a
last chance was given to us ail to leave. Only two
did so; the rest stayed on. Mrs. Stobart went out
to see what was to be done. The Consul
said that we were under his protection, and that if

18 ANTWERP
the Germans entered the town he would see that
we were treated propedy. We had  deliberately
cheerfial supper, and afterwards a man called Smits
came in and told us that the Gerlnans had been
driven back fiffeen kilometres. I myself did hot
believe this, but we went to bed, and even took ott"
our clothes.
At midnight the first shell came over us with a
shriek, and I went down and woke the orderlies
and nurses and doctors. We dressed and went
over to help move the wounded at the hospital.
The shells began to scream overhead; it was a
bright mOOldight night, and ve walked without
haste--a small body of women--across the road to
the hospital. Here we round the wounded ail
yelling like mad things, thinking they were going
tobe let't behind. The lung man has died.
Nearly ail the moving to the cellars had already
been done--only three stretchers remained tobe
moved. One wounded English sergeant helped us.
Otherwise everything was done by women. We
laid the men on mattresses which we fetched from
the hospital overhead, and then Mrs. Stobart's mild,
quiet voice said, " Everything is to go on as usual.
The night nurses aud orderlies will take their places.
Breakfast will be at the usual hour." She and the
other ladies whose night it was to sleep at the
convent then returned to sleep in the basement
with a Sister.
Vre came in tbr some most severe shelling at
first, either because we flew the Red Cross flag or
because we were in the line of tire with a powder
magazine which the Germans wished to destroy.

THE BOMBARDMENT

19

We sat in the cellars with one night-light burning
in each, and with seventy wounded men to take
tare of. Two of them were dying. There was
only one line of bricks between us and the shells.
One shell fell into the garden, making a hole .six
feet deep ; the next crashed through a house on the
opposite side of the road and set it on tire. Ïhe
danger was two-fold, for we knew our hospital,
which was a cardboard sort of thing, would ignite
like matchwood, and if it fell we should hot be able
to get out of the cellars. Some people on our staff
were much against our nmking use of a cellar at
ail for this reason. I myself felt it was the safest
place, and as long as we stayed with the wounded
they minded nothing. We sat there all night.
The English sergeant said that at daybreak the
firing would probably cease, as the German guns
stopped when daylight came in order to conceal the
guns. Ve just waited fox" daybreak. Vhen it
came the tiring grew worse. The sergeant said,
" It is always worse j ust before they stop," but the
tiring did not stop. Two hundred guns were
turned on Antwerp, and the shells came over at the
rate of four a minute. They have a horrid screan-
ing sound as they corne. 'Ve heard each o,e
coming and wondered if it would hit us, and then
we heard the crashing somewhere else and knew
another shell was coming.
The worst cases among the wounded lay on the
floor, and these wanted constant attention. The
others were in their great-coats, and stood about
the cellar leaning on crutches and sticks. We
wrapped blankets round the rheumatism cases
8

0 ANTWERP
and sat through the long night. Sometimes
when we heard  crash near by we asked "Is that
the convent ?" but nothing else n-as said. All
spoke cheerfully, and there was some laughter in
the further cellar. One little red-haired nnrse
enjoyed the whole thing. I saw her carry three
wounded men in succession ou her back don'l to
the cellar. I fonnd lnysclf wishing that for
me a shot would come and finish the horrible
night. Still ve all chatted and smiled and made
little jokes. Once during that long night in the
cellar [ heard one wotmded man say to another as
he rolled himself romd on his mattress, " Que les
anglais sont comme il faut."
At six o'clock the convent party came over and
began fo prepare breakfast. Ïhe least wounded of
the men began to steal away, and we were leff with
between thirty and forty of theln. The difficulty
was to know how to get away and how to remove
the wounded, two of whom were nearly dead.
Miss Benjamin went and stood at the gare, while
the shells still flew, and picked up an ambulance.
In flfis we got away six me, including the two dying
ones. Mrs. Stobart n, as walking about for three
hours trying to find anything on wheels to remove
us and the wounded. At last ve got a motor
ambulance, and packed in twenty menthat was
all it would hold. We told them to go as far as
the bridge and send it back for us. It never came.
Nothing seemed to corne.
Ïhe  Vice-Consul had told us we were under
his protection, and he would, as a neutral, march
out to meet the Germans and give us protection.

FLIGHT 1

But when we enquired we heard he had bolted
without telling us. The next to give us protection
was the -- Field Hospital, who said they had a
ship in the river and would hot more without us.
But they also left and said nothing.
We got dinner for the lllen, and then the strain
began tobe lnuch vorse. "Ve had seven wounded
and ourselves and nota thing in which to get out
of Antwerp. I told Mrs. Stobart we must leave
the wounded at the convent in charge of the
Sisters, and this we did, telling then where to take
them in the lnorning. The gay yomg nurses
fetched them across on stretchers.
About 5 o'clock the shelling became more violent,
and three shells came with only an instant between
each. Presently we heard Mrs. Stobart say,
"Corne at once," and we went out and round three
English buses vith English drivers at the door.
Ïhey were carrying ammunition, ad were the last
vehicles to leave Antwerp. "We got into theln and
lay on the top of the ammunition, and the girls
began to light cigarettes ! The noise of the buses
prevented out hearing for a time the infernal sound
of shells and out cannons' answering roar.
As we drove to the bridge lnany houses and
sometilnes a whole street was burning. No one
seemed to tare. No one was there to try and save
anything. We drove through the empty streets
and saw the burning houses, and great holes where
shells had fallen, and then we got to the bridge and
out of the line of tire.
'Ve set out to walk towards Holland, but a
Belgian oflïcer got us some Red Cross ambulances,

2 ANTWERP

and into these we got, and were taken to a convent
at St. Gilles, where we slept on the floor till 3 a.m.
At 3 a message was brought,-" Get up at once--
things are worse." Everyone seemed to l)e leaving,
and we got into the Red Cross ambulances and
vent fo the station.
90ctober.--'¥e have been ail day in the train
in very hard third-class carriages with the R.M.L.I.
The journey of fifty toiles took from 5 o'clock in
the morning, when ve got away, till 12 o'clock af
night, when we reached Ostend. The train hardly
crawled. If was the longest I bave ever seen.
Al] Ostend was in darkness when we arrived--a
German airship having been seen overhead.
always seem to be tumbling about in the dark.
¥e went from one hotel fo another trying to get
accommodation, aud af last (at the St..lames's)
they allowed us to lie on the floor of the restaurant.
The only food they had for us was ten eggs for
twenty-five hungry people and some brown bread,
but they had champagne at the house, and I
ordered if for everybody, and we ruade little
speeches and tried to end on a good note.
l00«lober.--Mrs. Stobart took the unit back to
England to-day. The wouuded were round in a
little house which the Red Cross had made over to
them, and Dr. Ramsey, Sister Bailey, and the two
nurses had much to say about their perilous jom'ney.
One man had died on the road, but the others all
looked well. Their joy af seeing us.was pathetic,
and there was a great deal of handshaking over out
meeting.
Miss Donnisthorpe and I got decent rooms at the

THE UNIT RETURNS TO ENGLANI) $$

Littoral Hotel, and brought our luggage there, and
had baths, which we much needed. Dr. Hanson
had got out of the train at Bruges to bandage a
wounded man, and she was left behind, and is still
lost. I suppose she has gone home. She is the
doctor I like best, and she is oue of the few whose
nerves are hot shattered. It was a sorry little
party which Mrs. Stobart took back to England.

CHAPTEI? I I

WITH DR. HECTOR MUNRO'S FLYING AMBULANCE
CORPS

1 Oetober.--Everyone has gone baek to
England exeept Sister Bailey and me. She is
waiting to hand over the wounded to the proper
department, and I ana waiting to see if I tan get on
anywhere. It does seem so hard that when men
are most in need of us we should ail run home and
leave theln.
The noises and racket in Ostend are deafening,
and there is pairie everywhere. The boats go to
England packed every rime. I called on the
Villiers yesterday, and heard that she is leaving on
Tuesday. But they say that the British Minister
dare not leave or the whole place would go wild
with fear. Some ships lie close to us on the grey
misty water, and the troops are passing along all
day.
Later.--Ve heard to-night that the Germans
are coming into Ostend to-morrow, so once more
we fly like dust before a broom. It is horrible
having to clear out for them.
I ara trying to discover vhat courage really
consists in. It isn't only a lack of imagination. In

ON THE Rf)AD TO DUNKIRK 5

some people itis transcendent, in others itis only
a sort of stupidity. If proper precautions were
taken the need for courage would be lnuch
reduced--the "tight place" is so often the result
of sheer muddle.
This evening Dr. Hector Munro came in from
Ghent with lais oddly-dressed ladies, and at first
one vas inclied to call them lnasqueraders in
their knickerbockers and puttees and caps, but I
believe they bave done excellent work. Itis a
queer side of war to see young, pretty English girls
in khaki and thick boots, coming iu from the
trenches, where they have been picking up wounded
lnen within a hundred yards of the enemy's lines,
and carrying them away o stretchers. V'onderful
little Valkiires in knickerbockers, I lift my hat to
youl
l)r. Munro asked me to corne on to lais convoy,
and I gladly did so: he sent home a lady whose
nerves vere gone, md I was put in her place.
13 October.--Ve had an early muddly breakfast,
at which everyone spoke in a high voice and urged
others to hurry, and then ve collected luggage and
went round to see the General. AIterwards we
ail got into our motor anabulances en rottc for
Dunkirk. The road was filled with flying iuhabi-
tants, and down at the dock wounded and well
struggled to get on to the steamer. People vere
begging us for a seat in our ambulance, and well-
dressed women were setting out to walk twenty
toiles to Dunkirk. The tain was falling heavily,
and it was a dripping day when we and a lot of
English soldiers found ourselves in the square in

'6 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
Dunkirk, where the few hotels are. Vre had an
expensive lunch ata greasy restaurant, and then
tried to find rooms.
I began to make out of whom out party consists.
There is Lady Dorothy Fielding--probably 22,
but capable of taking command of a ship, and
speaking French like a native; Mrs. Decker, an
Australian, plucky and efficiertt ; Miss Chisholm, a
blue-eyed Scottish girl, with a thick coat strapped
around her waist and a haversack slung from her
shoulder; a tall American, whose name I do not
yet know, whose husband is a journalist; three
young surgeons, and Dr. M unro. Itis ail so
quaint. The girls rule the company, carry maps
and find roads, sec about provisions and carry
wounded.
We could not get rooms at Dunkirk and so came
on to St. Malo les Bains, a small bathing-place
which had been shut up for the vinter. The
owner of an hotel there opened up some rooms for
us and got us some ham and eggs, and the evening
ended very cheerily. Our party seems, to me,
amazingly young and unprotected.
St. 21Ialo les Bains. 1 Oetober.--To-day I
took a car into Dunkirk and bought some things,
as I have lost nearly ail I possess at Antverp.
In the afternoon I went to the dock to get some
letters posted, and tramped about there for a long
rime. Var is such a disorganizer. Nothing
starts. No one is able to more because of wounded
arms and legs ; it seems to make the world helpless
and painful. In minor matters one lires nearly
always with damp feet and rather dirty and

WOMEN .k3_" THE FRONT

hungry. Drains are ail choked, and one does not
get much sleep. These are trifles, of course.
To-night, as we sat at dinner, a message was
brought that a woman outside had been run over
and was going to have a baby immediately in a
tram-way shelter, so out we went and got one of
our ambulances, and a young doctor with his
fiancée went off with her. There was a lot of
argument about where the woman lived, until one
young man said, " Well, get in somehow, or the
baby will have arrived." There is a simplicity
about these tragic rimes, and nothing matters but
to save people.
15 October.To-day we went down to the
docks to get a passage for Dr. Munro, who is
going hoirie for money. A German Taube flew
overhead and men were firing rifles at it. An
Englishman hit it, and down it came like a shot
bird, so that was the end of a brave man, whoever
he was, and it was a long drop, too, through the
till autumn air. Gmts have begun to tire again.
so I suppose we shall have to more on once more.
One does hot unpack, and it is dangerous to part
with one's linen to be washed.
Yesterday I heard a man--a man in a responsible
positionsay to a girl, " Tell me, please, how far
we are from the firing-line." It was one of the
most remarkable speeches I ever heard. I go to
these girls for ail my news. Lady Dorothy
Fielding is our real commander, and everyone
knows it. One hears on ail sides, "Lady Dorothy,
can you get us tyres for the ambulances ? Where
is the petrol ?" " Do you know if the General

o8 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
will let us through ." " Have you been able to
get us any stores .'" " Ought we to have ' laissez-
passer's' or not .v' She goes to all the heads of
departments, is the only good speaker of French,
and has the only reliable information about any-
thing. Ail the men acknowledge ber position, and
they say to me, "lt's very odd being run by a
woman; but she is the only person who cau do
mwthing." In the firing-line she is quite cool, and
so are the other women. They seem to be
interested, not dismayed, by shots and shrapnel.
16 O«tober.--To-day I bave been reading of the
" splendid retreat" of the Marines ri'oto Antwerp
and their "unprecedeuted reception" at Deal.
Everyone appears to have been in a state of wild
enthusiasm about them, and it seems almost like
M afeking over again.
Vhat struek me most about these men was the
way in whieh they blew their own trumpets in fifll
retreat and while flying ff'oto the enemy. We
travelled all day in the train with them, and had
long conversations with them all. They were all
saying, " Ve will briug you the Kaiser's head,
miss "; to whieh I replied, "Vell, you had better
turn round and go the other way." Some people
like this "English" spirit. I find the eonceit of it
most trying. Belgimn is iu the hands of the enemy,
and we flee bëbre him singing out own praises
loudly as we do so. The Marines lost their kit,
spent one night in Antwerp, and went baek to
England, where they had an amazing reeeption
amid seenes of unpreeedented enthusiasm ! The

MEN'S ATTITUDE TOWARDS WOMEN °9

Government will give them a fresh kit, and the
public will cheer itself hoarse I
I could hOt help thinking, when I read the
papers to-day, of our tired little body of' nurses and
doctors and orderlies going back quietly and un-
proclaimed to England to rest at Folkestone for
three days and the to corne out here again. They
had been for eighteen hours under heavy shell tire
without so much as a rifle to protect them. and
with the immediate chance of a burning building
tialling about them. The lmrses sat in the cellars
tending wounded men, whom they rcfused to
leave, and then hopped on to the outside of an
ammunition bus " to sec the tire," and came ]tome
to buy their little caps and aprons out of their owt
slender purses and start work again.
I shall believe i l;ritishcrs to the day or' my
death, and [ hope I sh,ll die before I cease to
believe in them, but I do get some disilluions.
At Antwerp hot a man remained with us, ad the
worst of it was they ruade elaborate excuses for
leaving. Eve our sergeant, who helped during
the night, took a comrade off in the morning and
disappeared. Both were wounded, but hOt badly,
and two young English Tomtnies, very slightly
Womlded, left us as soon as the firing began. We
saw them afterwards at the bridge, and they looked
pretty mean.
To-night at dinner some officers came in when
the food was pretty well finished, and only some
drumsticks of chicken and bits of haro were left.
I ara always slow at beginning to eat, and I had a
large wing of chicken still on my plate. I offered

30 DR. MUNRO'S AMBUL.,NCE CORPS
this to an oflïcer, vho accepted it and are it,
although he askcd me to have a little bit of it.
I do hope I shall meet some cases of chivalry
soon.
Firing ceased about 5 o'clock this afternoon, but
we are short of news. The English papers rather
annoy one with their continual victories, of which
we see nothing. Everyone talks of the German
big guns as if they were some happy chance. But
the Germans were drilling and preparing ,vhile ve
were making speeches ag Hyde Park Corner.
Everything had been thought out by them.
People talk of the diflïculty they must have had in
preparing concrete floors for their guns. Not a bit
of it. Ïhere were innocent dwelling-houses, built
long ago, with floors in just the right position and
ofjust the right stuff, and when they were wanted
the top stories were blown off and the concrete
gam-floors were ready. There were local exhi-
bitions, too, to which firms sent exhibition guns,
which they "forgot" to remove ! VChile we
were going on strike they were making an army,
and as we bave sown so must we reap.
One ahnost wonders whether ig might not be
possible to eliminate the personal element in war,
so constant is the talk about victorious guns. If
guns decide everything, then let them be trained
on other guns. Let the gun that drives farthest
and goes surest win. If every siege is decided by
the German 16-inch howitzers, then let us put up
brick and mortar or steel against them, but not
mea. The day for the bleeding human body seems
to be over now that men are mown down by shells

PROTECTION OF LIFE OR PROPERTY .'31

fired eight mlles away. War used to be sp]endid
beeause it made men strong and brave, but now a
little Gerlnan in spectacles ean stand behind a
Krupp gun and wipe out a regiment.
I suppose women will always try to proteet lire
because they know what it eosts to produee it, and
men will always try to protect property because
that is vhat they themselves produce. At Antwerp
our wounded men were begging us to go up to the
hospital to fetch their purses from under their
pillows! At present women are only repaircrs,
darning socks, cleaning, washing up after mcn,
briuging up reinforcements in the way of fi-esh life,
and patching up wounded men, but some day they
must and will have to say, " The lire I produce
bas as much right to protection as the property you
produce, and I claire my right to protect it.'"
Ïhere seems to me a lack of connection betweel
one man's desire to extend the area he occupies
and young men in their teens lying with their
lungs shot through or backs blown off.
19 Oclober.--Our rime is now spent in waiting
and preparing for work whieh will probably eome
soon, as there has been fighting near us again.
One hears the boom or" guns a long way oiT, and
always there is the sound of death il it. One
has been too near it hOt to know now what it
means.
Yesterday I went to church in an empty little
building, but a few of our hospital men turned up
and made a small conoxegation. In the afternoon
one or two people came to tea in my bedroom as
we could hOt make our usual expedition to de

32 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
Poorter's bunshop. The pastry habit is growing
on us all.
Vc wcnt to the arsenal to-day to sec about
somc rcpairs to our ambulanccs. I saw a German
omnibus which had bcen capturcd, and thc eaglcs
on it had been painted out with stripes of red paint
and thc French colours put in their place. The
omnibus was ont mass of bullet-holes. I bave sccn
waggons at Paardeberg, but I nevcr saw anything
so knocked about as that grey motor-bus. The
cngincs and sides wcre shattcrcd and the chauffeur,
of course, had been killcd. We wcnt on by motor
to the "Champs des Aviatcurs." We saw one
naval aeroplane man, who told us that he had bccn
hit in his machine when it was ,000 feet up in the
air. His jacket was torn by a bullet and his
machine droppcd, but he was uninjured, and got
away on a bicycle.
Thc more I sec of war the more I am amazcd at
the courage and nerve which are shown. Dcath or
the chance of death is everywhere, and we meet it
not as fatalists do or those who believe they can
earn eternal glory with a sacrifice, but lightly and
with a song. An English girl at Antwerp was
horribly ashamed of some Belgians who skulked
behind a wall xvhen the firing was hottest. She
herself remained in the open.
It bas been a great eomfort to me that I have
had a room to myself so far on this campaign. I
find the communal spirit is hot in me. The noisy
meals, the heavy bowls of soup, the piles of labelled
dinner-napkins, give me an unexpected feeling of
oppressive seelusion and solitude, and only when I

WE GO TO FURNES :t$

get away by myself do I feel that my soul is
restored.
Mr. Gleeson, an American, joined his wife here
a couple of days ago: it vas odd to have a book
talk again.
21 Octobcr.--.A still grey day with a level sea
and a few fishing-boats goilg out with the ride.
()n the long grcy shore shrimpers are wading with
their nets. The only colour in the soft grey daw
is the little wink of white that the breaking waves
make on the sand. ïhis small empty seaside place,
with its rov of bahing-machites (lrawl up ou the
beach, has a look about it as of a theatre seen by
daylight. Ail the seats are empty and the players
bave gone away, and the theatre bcgins to whisper
as emptybuildings do. I think I know quite well
some of the people who corne to St. Malo les Bains,
just by listening to xvhat the empty little place is
saying.
Firing has begun again. We hear that out
ships are shelling Ostend from the sea. The news
that reaches us is meagre, but I prefer that to the
thlse reports that are circulated at home.
This afternoon we came out in motors and
ambulances to establish ourselves at Fumes in an
empty Ecclesiastical College. Nothing was ready,
and everything was in confusion. The woundcd
from the fighting near by had hot begun to corne
in, but the infernal sound of the guns was quite
close to us, and gave one the sensation of a blow on
the ear. Night was falling as we came back to
Dunkirk to sleep (for no beds vere ready at Fumes),
and we passed many motor vehicles of every

4

DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS

description going out to Furnes. Some of them
were filled with bread, and one saw stacks of
loaves filling to the roof some once beautifully
appointed motor. Now al] was dust and dirt.
Ail my previous ideas of men marching to war
have had a t(mch o' heroisin, crudely expresse,l l)y
quiek-step and smaoE uniforms. To-day I sec tired
dusty men, very hungry looking and unshaved,
slogging along, silent and tired, and ready to lie
down whenever chance offers. They keep as near
their convoy as they can, and are keen to stop and
cook something. God! what is heroism? It
bafltes me.
22 O«tobcr. Furnes.'l'he bulk of our party
did hOt return from Furnes yesterday, so we
gathered that the wounded must be confing in, and
we left Dunkirk early and came here. As I
packed my things and rolled my rugs at 5 a.m. 1
thought of Mary, and " Charles to titch down the
luggage," and the fuss at home over my delicate
health !
A French officer called Gilbert took us out to
Fumes in his Brooklands racing-car, so that was
bit of an experience too, for we sat curled up on
some luggage, and were told to bang on by some-
thing. The roads were empty and level, the little
seats of the car were merely an appendage to
long big engines, lVhen we got out breath back
we asked Gilbert vhat his speed had 1)een, and he
told us 75 toiles an hour.
There was a crowd of motors in the yard of the
Ecclesiastical College at Fumes, engines throbbing
and clutches beingjerked, and we were told that

THE FIGHTING AT DIXMUDE 35
all last night the fighting had gone on and the
wounded had been coming in. There are three
wards already fairly full, nothing quite ready, an(l
the inevitable and reiterated " where" heard on
every side.
" Vhere are the stretchers ?" « Vhere are my
forceps !"' " Vhere are we to dine .v' " Vhere
are the dead to be .put. v' '" Vhere are the
Gerlllalls ."
No olle stops to answer. People ask evcrybody
ten rimes over to do the saine thing, md use ay-
thing that is lying about.
There are two war correspondents hereSlr.
Gibbs and Mr. Ashmead Bartlett--and they told
me about the fighting at Dixmude last night, l
must try to get Mr. Gibbs's lewspaper account of
it, but nothing will ever be so sinple and so
dramatic as his own descriptiol. I{e and Mr.
Bartlett, Mr. Gleeson and Dr. Munro, with young
Mr. Brockville, the Var Minister's son, went to
the town, which was being heavily shelled. Dix-
mude was full of wounded, and the church and the
houses were falling. The roar of things was awful,
and the bursting shells overhead sent shrapnel
pattering on the buildings, the pavements, and the
cars.
Young Brockvillc wcnt into a bouse, vhcrc hc
heard wounded vere lying, and found a pile of
dead Frenchmen stacked against a wall. A burst-
ing shell scattered them. He vent on to a cellar
and round some living men, got the stretchers,
loaded the cars and bade them drive on. lu the
darkness, and with the deafening noises, no one

36 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
heard lais orders aright, the two motor ambulances
moved on and left him behind amongst the burning
bouses and flying shells. It was only after going a
few mlles that the test of the party round that he
was hot with them.
Mr. Gleeson and Mr. Bartlett went back for him.
Nothing need be said except that. They went
back to hcll for him. and the other txvo waited in
the road with the wounded men. After a hour
of waiting these two also went back.
! asked iXlr. (;ibbs if he shared the contempt that
some pc«»ple expressed for bullets. He and Mr.
Gleeson both said. "' Anyone who talks of coutempt
for bullcts is talking nonsense. Bullets mean
death at every corner of the street, and death over-
head and flying lilnbs and unspeakable sights." Ail
these men went back. Ail of them behaved quietly
and like gentlemen, but one man asked a friend of
his over and over again if he was a Belgian refugee,
and another said that a town steeple falling looked
so strange that they could only stand about and
light cigarettes. In the end they gave up Mr.
Brockville for lost and came home witb the ambu-
lances. But he turned up in the middle of the
night, to everyone's huge delight.
23 October.A crisp autumn morning, a court-
yard filled with motors and brancardiers and men
in uniform, and women ira knickerbockers and
puttees, ail lighting cigarettes and talking about
repairs and gears and a box of bandages. The
mornings always start happily enough. The guns
are nearer to-day or more distant, the battle sways
backwards and forwards, and there is no such thing

A WOUNDED GERMAN 37

as a real "base " for a hospital. IVe must just
stay as long as we can and fly when we must.
About 10 a.m. the ambulances that have been
out ail night begin to corne in, the wounded o
their pitiful shelves.
"Take tare. Ïhere are two awfid cases. Step
this way. The lnan on the top shelf is dead. Lift
theln down. Steady. l,it the others out first.
Now carry them across the yard to the overcrowded
ward, and lay them on the floor if there are no
beds, but lay them dovn ad go for others. Take
the vorst to the theatre" get tie simttered iimbs
amputated and then bring them back, for there is
a man just dead whose place tan be filled; and
these two must be shipped off to Calais ; and this
one tan sit up."
I round one young German with both hands
smashed. He was hot iii enough to have a bed, of
course, but sat with his head fallen forward trying
to sleep on a chair. I fed him with porridge and
milk out of a little bowl, and when he had tinished
half of it he said, " I won't have my more. I ara
afraid there will be none for the others." I got a
few cushions for him and laid him in a corner of
the room. Nothing disturbs the deep sleep of these
men. They seem hot so much exhausted as dead
with fatigue.
A French boy of sixteen is a favourite of mine.
He is such a beautiful child, and there is no hope
for him ; shot through the abdomen ; he tan retain
nothing, and is sick ail day, and every day he is
weaker.
I do not find that the men want to send letters

38 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
or write messages. Their I)ain is too aoEul even for
that, and I believe they can think of nothing else.
All day the stretchers are brought in and the
work goes on. It is about 5 o'clock that the weird
tired hour begins whcn the dira lami)s are lighted,
and I)eoi)le fall over things, and nearly everything
is mislaid, and the wounded cry out, and one steps
over forms on the floor. From then till one goes
to bed it is difficult to be just what one ought to
bc, the tragedy of it is too I)itiful. There is a boy
with his eyes shot out, and thcre is a row of men
all with head wounds from the cruel shrai)nel over-
hed. B|ood-stained mattresses and I)illows are
carried out into the courtyard. Two ladies heli)
to nlove the corpses. There is always a I)ile of
bandages and rags being burnt, and a youth stirs
the horrible pile with a stick. A queer smell I)er-
meates everything, and the guns never cease. The
wounded are COlning in at the rate of a hundred
a day.
The Queen of the Bclgians called to sec the
hospital to-day. Poor little Queen, coming to sec
the remnants of an army and th« remnants of a
kingdoml She was kind to each wounded man,
and we were glad of her visit, if for no other reason
than that some sort of cleaning and tidying was
donc in her honour. To-night lIr. Nevinson
arrived, and we went round the wards together after
sui)i)er. The beds were all fullso was the floor.
I was glad that so many of the wounded were
dying.
The doctors said, " These men are not wounded,
they are mashed."

THE TRAGEDY OF PAIN 39

I am rather surprised to find how little the quite
young girls seem to mind the sight of xvounds and
suffering. They are bright and witty about
amputations, and do hot shuddcr at mytbing. I
am feeling rather out-of-date amongst them.

Letter to 3[iss 3[acnau.çhtat's Nisters.
Da. I-tE('TOR MUNRO'S AMBULANCE,
FURNES» BEL([UM»
°3 0ctober.
Mv DEAR PEOPLn,
I think I may get this posted by a war
correspondent wbo is going home, but 1 never kuow
whether my letters reach you or hot, for yours, if
you write them, never reach me. I can't begin
to tell you all that is happening, and it is really
beyond what one is able to describe. The tragedy
of pain is the thing that is most evident, and there
is the roar and the racket of it and the everlasting
sound of guns. The war seems to me now to mean
nothing but torn limbs and stretchers. All the
doctors say that never have they seen men so
wounded.
The day that we got here was the day that
Dixmude was bombarded, and our ten ambulances
(motor) went out to fetch in wounded. These
were shoved in anywhere, dying and dead. and our
men went among the shells with buildings falling
about them and took out all they could. Except
where the tire is hottest one WOlnCn goes with each
car. So far I have been doing ward work, but one
of the doctors is taking me on an ambulance this
afternoon. Most of the women who go are very
good chauffeurs themselves, so they are_: chosen

40 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
beforc a person who can't drive. Thcy are splcndid
crcaturcs, and funk nothing, and thcy arc thcrc to
do a littlc drcssing if it is nccdcd.
Thc firing is awfully hcavy to-day. Thcy say it
is thc big French guns that have got up. Two of
out ambulanccs havc had miraculous cscapcs aftcr
bcing hit. Things happcn too quickly to know
how to dcscribc thcm. To-day whcn I went ont to
brcakfast an old village woman agcd about 70
was brought in woundcd in two places, l ara hot
fond of horrors.
Wc havc bccn givcn an cmpty housc for the
staff, the owners having quitted it in a panie and
left everything, children's toys on the carpet,
and beds unmade. The hospital is a college
for priests, all of whom have fled. Into this
building the wounded are carried day and night,
and the surgeons are working in shifts and can't
get the work done. We are losing, alas ! so many
patients. Nothing tan be done ibr them, and I
always feel so glad when they are gone. I don't
think anyone tan realise what it is to be just behind
the line of battle, and I fear there would not be
much recruiting if people at home could see our
wards. One tan only be thankful for a hospital
like this in the thick of things, for xve are saving
lires, and not only so, but saving the lives of men
who perhaps have lain three days in a trench or a
turnip-field undiscovered and forgotten.
As soon as a wounded man has been attended to
and is able to be put on a stretcher again he is
sent to Calais. We have to keep emptying the
wards for other patients to corne in, and besides, if

TO THE EDGE OF THE FIGIITING-LINE 41

the fighting cornes this way, we shall have to fall
back a little further.
We have a river between us and the Germans, so
we shall always know xvhen they are coming and
get a start and be ail right.
Your loving
S. I|ACNAUGHTAN.

25 October.--A glorious day. Up in the blue
even Taubes--those birds of prey--look beautiful,
like eagles wheeling in their flight. It is ail far too
lovely to leave, yet lnen are killig each other pain-
fully vith every day that dawns.
I had a tiresome day in spire of the weather,
because the hospital was evacuated suddenly owing
to the nearness of the Germans, and I missed going
with the ambulance, so I hung about all day.
26 October. a]ly birthday.--This morning several
women were brought in horribly wounded. One
girl of sixteen had both legs smashed. I was
taking one old womm to the civil hospital and I
had to pass eighteen dead men; they were laid out
beside some women who were washing clothes, and
I noticed how tired even in death their poor dirty
feet looked.
We started early in the ambulance to-day, and
went to pick up the wounded. It was a wild gusty
morning, one of those days when the sky takes up
nearly all the picture and the world ]ooks small.
The mud was deep on the road, and a cyclist corps
plunged heavily along througl it. The car steered
badly and ve drove to the edge of the fighting-
line.

4 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
First one cornes to a row of ammunition vans,
with men cooking breakfast behind them. Then
corne the long grey guns, tilted at various angles,
and beyond are the shells bursting and leaving
little clouds of black or white in the sky. Ve
signalled to a gun hot to tire dovn the road in
much the saine vay as a bobby signals to a hansom.
Vhen we got beyond the guns they fired over us
with a long streaky sort of sound. We came back
to the road and picked up the wounded wherever
we could find them.
The churches are nearly ail filled with straw, the
chairs piled anyvhere, and the sacranlent removed
from the altar. In cottages and little inns it is the
saine thing--a litter of straw, and men lying on it
in the chilly weather. Here and there through
some little vindov one sees surgeons in their white
coats dressiug vounds. Hall the world seems tobe
wounded and inefflcient. We filled our ambulance,
and stood about in curious groups of English men
and vomen vho looked as if they were on some
shooting-party. IVhen our load vas complete we
drove home.
Dr. Munro told me that last night he met a
German prisoner quite naked being marched in,
proudly holding his head up. Lots of the men
fight naked in the trenehes, hl hospital we meet
delightful German youths.
Amongst others who were brought in to-day was
Mr. "Dick" Reading, the editor of a sporting
paper. He was serving in the Belgian army, and
was behind a gun-carriage vhen it was fired upon
and started. Reading clung on behind with both

POPERINGHE 43
his legs broken, and he stuck to it till the gun-
carriage was pulled up I He came in on a stretcher
as bright as a button, smoking a cigar and laughing.
Late this aernoon we had to turn out of Fumes
and fly to Poperinghe. The drive was intensely
interesting, through crowds of troops of every
nationality, and the town seemed large and well
lighted. It vas crowded with people to see all our
ambulances arrive. Ve went to a café, where
there was a tire but nothing to eat, so some of the
party went out and bought chops, and I cooked
them in a stuffy little room vhich smelt of burnt
fat.
Af ter supper we weut to a convent where the
Queen of the Belgians had ruade arrangements for
us to sleep. It was delightthl. Each of us had a
snowy white bed with white curtains in a long
corridor, and there was a basin of water, cold but
clean, and a towel for each of us. We thoroughly
enjoyed our luxuries.
28 O«tober.--The ride of battle seems to bave
swung away from us again and we were recalled to
Furnes to-day. The hospital looked very bare
and empty as all the patients had been evacuated,
and there was nothing to do till fi-esh ones should
corne in. Three shells came over to-day and landed
in a field near us. Some people say they were sent
by our own naval guns firing wide. The souvenir
grafters went out and got pieces of them.
2 Vovember.--I have been spending a couple of
nights in Dunkirk, where I vent to meet Miss Fyfe.
ïhe Invieta got in late beeause the H«rmes had
been torpedoed and they had gone to her assistance.

44 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
No doubt the torpedo was intended for the Invi«ta,
which carries ammunition, and is becoming an
unpopular boat in consequence. Forty of the
Hermes men were lost.
Dunkirk is full of people, and one meets friends
at every turn. I had tea at the Consulate one
afternoon, and was rather glad to get away from
the talk of shells and wounds, which is what one
hears most of at Furnes.
I saw Lord Kitchener in the town one day; he
had corne to confer with .loffre, Sir .lohn French,
Monsieur Poincarc, and Mr. Churchill, ata meeting

held at the Chapeau Rouge Hotel. Rather too
nany valuable men in one room, I thought--
especially with so many spies about ! Three men
in English oftlcers' uniforms were round to be

Germans the other day and taken out and shot.
The Duchess of Sutherland has a hospital at our
old Casino at hlalo les Bains, and has made it very
nice. I had a long chat with a Coldstream man vho
was there. He told me he was carried to a barn
after being shot in the leg and the bone shattered.
He lay there for six days before he was round, with
nothing to eat but a few biscuits. He dressed his
own wound.
" But," he said, "the string of tny puttee had
been driven in so far by the shot I couldn't find it
to get the thing off, so I had to bandage over it."
I went down to the station one day to see if any-
thing could be done for the xvounded there. They
are coming in at the rate of seven hundred a day,
and are laid on straw in an immense goods-shed.
They get nothing to eat, and the atmosphere is so

DUNKIRK 5

bad that their wounds can't be dressed. They are
all patient, as usual, only the groans are heart-
breaking sometimes. Ve are arranging to have
soup given to them, and a number of ambulance
men arrived who will remove them to hospital ships
and trains. But the goods-shed is a shambles, and
let us leave it at that.*
Mrs. Knoeker came into l)unkirk for a night's
test while I was staying there. She had been out
all the previous day in a storm of wind and tain
driving an ambulance. It was heavy with wounded,
and shells were dropping very near. She--the most
eourageous woman that ever lived--was quite
unnerved at last. The glass of the car she was
driving was dira with rain and she eould carry
no lights, and xvith this swaying load of injured men
behind her on the rutty road she had to stick to her
wheel and go on.
Some one said to ber, " There is a doetor in sueh-
and-sueh a farmhouse, and he bas no dressings.
You must take him these."
She demurred (a most unusual thing for ber),
but men do hot protect women in this war, and
they said she had to take them. She asked one of
the least wounded of the men to get down and see
what was in front of her, and he disappeared
altogether. The dark mass she had seen in the
road was a huge hole ruade by a shellI Affer
steering into dead horses and going over awful
 It must hot be thought that in this and in subsequent
passages referring to the sufferings of the wounded Miss Mac-
naughtan alludes to any hardships endured by British troops.
Her rime in Flanders was all spent behind the French and
Belgian lines.--Ev.

46 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
roads Mrs. Knockcr came bumping into the yard,
stcering so badly that thcy ran to sec what was
wrong, and thcy found ber fainting, and shc was
carricd into thc bouse. At Dunkirk shc got a good
dinncr and a night's rcst.
FurTws. 5 N'o',,emb«r.The hospital is beginning
to fill up again, and the nurses are depressed beeause
only those cases whieh are nearly hopeless are
allowed to stay, soit is death on all sides and just a
hell of suffering. One man yelled to me to-night
to kill hiln. I wish I might have done so. The
tragedy of war presses vith a fearful weigbt affer
being in a hospital, and wherever one is one hears
the infernal sound of the guns. On Sunday about
forty shells ealne into Fumes, but I was at Dun-
kirk. This morning about rive dropped on to the
station.
To-day I went out to Nieuport. Itis like some
town one sees in a horrible nightmare. Hardly a
house is left standing, but that does not deseribe the
seene. Nothing ean fitly deseribe it exeept perhaps
sueh a pen as Vietor Hugo's. The eathedral at
Nieuport has two outer valls left standing. The
front leans forward helplessly, the aisles are gone.
Ïhe trees round about are burnt up and shot
avay. In the roadway are great holes whieh shells
bave ruade. The very eobbles of the street are seat-
tered by theln. Nota window remains in the place;
ail are shattered and many hang from their frames.
The fronts of the houses bave fallen out, and one
sees glimpses of wretehed domestie lire: a baby's
eradle hangs in nfid-air, some tin boxes have fallen
through froln the box-room in the attie to the

NIEUPORT 47
ground floor. Shops are shivered and their con-
tents strewn on all sides; the interiors of other
houses bave been hollowed out by tire. There is
a toy-shop with dolls grinning vacantly at the ruins
or bobbing brightly on elastic strings.
In a wretched cottage some soldicrs are having
breakfast aL a fine-carved table. In one bouse,
surrounded by a very devastation of wreckage, some
cheap ornaments stand intact on a mantelpiece.
From another a little ginger-coloured car strolls
out unconcernedly! The bedsteads hanging lnid-
way between floors look twisted and thrawn--
nothingstands up straight. Iike the wounded, the
town has I)een rendered inefticient by war.
6 A'ovember.--Furnes always seelns to me a
veird tragic place. I cannot think why this is so,
but its influence is to nie rather curious. I feel as
if all the rime I was living in some blood-curdling
ghost story or a horrid dream. Every day [ try to
overcome the feeling, but I can't succeed. This
afternoon I made up my lnind to return to our
villa and write my diary. The day was lovely, and
I meant to enjoy a test and a scribble, but so
strong was the horrid influence of the place that I
couldn't settle to anything. I can't describe it, but
it seemed to stifle me, and I can only compare it to
some second sight in vhich one sees death. I sat
as long as I could doing my writing, but I had to
give in at last, and I tucked my book under my
arm and walked back to the hospital, where at least
I was with human beings and not ghosts.
Our lire here is ruade up of many elements and
many people, all rather incongruous, but the

48 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
average of human nature is good. A villa belong-
ing to a Dr. Joos was given to our statt: Itis a
pretty little house, with three beds in it, and we
are eighteen people, so most of us sleep on the floor.
It wouldn't be a bad little place (except for the
drains) if only thcre wasn't this horrid influence
about it ail. I always particularly dislike toddling
aier people like a little lost dog, but here I find
that unless 1 ara with somebody the ghosts get the
better of me.
The villa is being ruined by us I fear, but 1 have
a voman to clcan it, and I ara trying to kecp it in
order. It is a cold little place for we bave no
rires. We can, by pumping, get a little very cold
water, and there is a tap in the bath-room and one
basin at which everyone tries to wash and shave at
the same rime. We get our mcals at a butcher's
shop, where therc is a large room which we more
than fill. The lights of the town are all out by
6 o'clock, so we grope about, but there is a lamp in
our dining-room. Vhen we corne out we bave to
pass through the butcher's shop, and one may find
oneself running into the interior of a sheep.
We get up about 7 o'clock and fight for the
basin. Then we walk round to the butcher's shop
and have breakfast at 7.30. 5Iost people think
they start off for the day's work at 8, but it is
generally quite 10 o'clock befbre ail the brown-
hooded ambulances with their red crosses have
moved out of the yard. ¥e do hot as a rule meet
again till dinner-time, and even then many of the
party are absent. They corne in at ail rimes, very
dirty and hungry, and the greeting is always the

A DRAMATIC INCIDENT ¢9

saine, "Did you get many ?".----i.c., " Have you
picked up many wounded ?"
One night Dr. Munro got bowled over by
the actual air force created by a shell, which how-
ever did not hit him. Yesterday Mr. Secher was
shot in the leg. I ara amazed that hot inore get
hit. They are all very cheery about it.
To-day we heard that a jolly French boy with
white teeth, who bas been very good at naking
coffee at our picnic hmches, was put up against a
tree and shot at daybreak. Someone had nmde him
drunk the night belote, and he had threatencd an
oflicer with a revolver.
7 'ovembcr. ,St. Malo les Bains.--Lady Bagot
turned up here to-day, and I hmehed vith her at
the Hôtel des Areades. Just before luneh a bomb
was dropped from a Taube overhead, and hardly
had we sat down to lunch when a revolver shot
rang through the rooln. A Freneh oflïeer had
diseharged his pistol by nistake, and he lay on the
floor in his searlet trews. The seene was really the
Adelphi, and as the man lmd only slightly hurt him-
self one was able to appreeiate the seenie effeet and
to notiee how well staged it was. A waiter ran for
me. I tan for dressings to one of out ambulanees,
and we knelt in the right attitude beside the hero
iii his searlet elothes, while the "lady of the
bureau" begged for the bullet I
In the evening Lady Bagot and I worked at the
railway-sheds till 3 a.m. One immense shed had
700 wounded in it. The night seene, with its
inevitable aeeompaniment of low-turned lamps and
gloom, vas one I shall not forget. The railway-

50

DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS

lines on each side of the covered platform vere
spread with straw, and on this vounded meu,
bedded down like cattle, slept. There vere rows
of them sleeping feet to feet, with straw over them
to make a covering. I didn't hear a grumble, and
hardly a groan. Most of them slept heavily.
Near the door was a row of Senegalese, their
black faces and gleaming eyes looking strange
above tbe straw; and further on were some
Germans, whom the French authorities would hot
allow our men to touch ;. tben rows of men of every
colour and blood; Zouaves, with tbeir picturesque
dress all grimed and colourless; Turcos, French,
and Belgians. Nearly all had their heads and hands
bound up in filthy dressiugs. We went into the
dressing-station at the far end of the great shed
and dressed wounds till about 3 o'clock, then we
passed through the long long lines of sleeping
wounded men again aud went home.

7'o Lady Clémentine lltring.
8 'ovember.
5I  DEaaEST CLEI.IE,
I have a big job for you. IVill you doit ?
1 know you are the person for it, and you will be
prompt and interested.
The wounded are su tTering ti'om hunger as much
as from their wounds. In most places, such as
dressing-stations and railway-stations, nothing is
provided for them at all, and many nlen are left for
two or three days without food.
I wish I could describe it ail to you! These
wounded men are picked up after a fight and taken

HUNGER OF "FHE WOUNDED 51

anywhere--very often to some farmhouse or inn,
where a Belgian surgeon elaps something on to the
wounds or ries on a splint, and tben our (Dr.
_Munro's) ambubtnees eolne along and bring the men
into the Field Hospital il" they are very btd, or if
hot they are taken direct to a station and left there.
They may, and often do, have to wait ['or hours till
a train loads up and starts. Even those who are
brought to the Field Hospital bave to turn out
long betbre they ean walk or sit, and they are
earried to the local station and put ito eovered
horse-boxes on straw, and bave to wait tiil the
train loads up and starts. You see everything has
to bedone with a view to sudden evaeuation. We
are so near to the firing-line that tbe Gerlnans may
sweep on out way at any rime, and then every man
bas tobe eleared out somehow (we lmve et heap of
ambulanees), and the staiT is moved oit to some
safer place. We did a bolt of this sort to Poper-
inghe one day, but ai'ter being there two days the
fighting swayed the other way and we were able to
eome baek.
Vell, during all these shiftings and waitings
the wounded get nothing to eat. I want some
travelling-kitchens, and I want you to see about
the whole thing. You may have to eome t¥om
Seotland, beeause I have opened the subjeet with
Mr. Burbidge, of Harrods' Stores. A Harrods'
man is over here. He takes baek this letter. I
partieularly want you to see him. Mr. Burbidge
has, or ean obtain, old horse-vans whieh ean be
fitted up as travelling-kitehens. He is doing one
now for Millieent, Duehess of Sutherland ; it is to
5

5 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
cost £15, which I call vcry chcap. I wish you
could sec it, fol" I know you could improvc upon
it. Itis fittcd, I undcrstand, with a coppcr for
boiling soup, and a chimney. Thcrc is also a place
for iucl, and I should likc a strong box that would
hold vegetables, dried peas, etc., whose top would
serve as a table. Then there must be plenty of
hooks and shelves where possible, and I believe
Burbidge makes some sort of protection against
tire in the way of lining to the van. Harrods' man
says that he doesn't know if they have any more vans
or hot.
I want someone with push and energy to see the
thing right through and get the vans oiT. The
Invi«ta, tYom the Admiralty Pier, Dorer, sailing
daily, brings Red Cross things free.
The vans would bave to have the Red Cross
painted on them, and in small letters, somewhere
inconspicuous, "Miss Macnaughtan's Travelling-
Kitchens." This is only for identification. I
thought we might begin with thrce, and get thelll
sent out al once, and go on as they are required.
I lnust have a capable person and a helper in
charge of each, so that limits my number. The
Germans have beautifid little kitchens at each
station, but I can't be sure what money I can raise,
so must go slow.
I want also two little trollies, just to hold a tin
jug and some tin cups hung round, with one oil-
lamp to keep the jug hot. The weather will be
bitter soon, and only "special" cases have
blankets.
Clemmie, ff only we could see this thing through

PROPOSED TRAVELLING-KITCHENS 58
without too much red tape! . . . No permission
need be given for the work of these kitchens, as we
are under the Belgian Minister of Var and act for
Belgium.
I thought of coming over to London for a day
or two, and I can still do so, only 1 know you will
be able to do this thing better than anyone, and
xvill think of things that no one else thinks of. 1
can get voluntary worker., but neat and vegetables
are dreadfiflly dear, so I shan't be able to spend a
great deal on tbe vans. tlowever, my day they
(.ern,tns, so the only thing
may be taken by the " •
that really matters is to get the wounded a mug of
hot soup.
Last night I was dressing wounds and bandaging
at l)unkirk station till 3 a.m. The men are
brought there in heaps, ail helpless, ail suffering.
Sometilnes there are fifeen hundred in one day.
l,ast night seven hundred lay on straw in a huge
railway-shed, with straw to cover them--bedded
down like cattle, and all in pain. Still, it is better
than the trenches and shrapnel overhead t
At the Field Hospital the wounds are ghastly,
and we are losing so many patients ! Mere boys of
sixteen corne in sometimes mortally wounded, and
there are a good many cases of wounded women.
You see, no one is safe; and, oh, my dear, have
you ever seen a town that has been thoroughly
shelled ? At Furnes we have a good many shells
dropping in, but no real bombardment yet. Affer
Antwerp I don't seem to care about these visitors.
VCe were under tire there for eighteen hours, and it
was a bit of a strain as our hospital was in a line

54 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
with the Arsenal, which thcy were trying to
destroy, so we got more than our share of atten-
tion. Thc noise was horrible, and thc shclls came
in at the rate of four a minute. Thcrc was some-
thing quitc hcllish about it.
Do you rcmcmbcr that grcat bit of writing in
Job, ,vhcn Visdom spcaks and says : "Destruction
and Death say, itis hot in me ''v
The wantonness and sort of rage of it ail appalled
one. Our women behaved splendidly.
I'll corne over to England if you think 1 had
better, but I ara sure you are the person I
want. . if anything should prevent your
helping, please wire to me: otherwise I shall know
things are going forward.
Your loving,
S. 1,I ACNA (rG HTAN.

The vans should be strong as they may have
rough usage ; also, to take them to their destination
they may have to be hitched on to a motor-
ambulance.
()ne or two strong trays in each kitchen would
be usefid. The little trollies would be tbr railway-
station work. As ve go on I hope to have one
kitehen for each dressing-station as well.
SAL.Y.

8 2Vovember.This affernoon I went down to
the Hôtel des Arcades, which is the general meeting
ground for everyone. The drawing-room vas full
and so was the Place Jean Bart, on which it looks.
Suddenly we saw people beginning to fly ! Soldiers,

NIGHT WORK AT RAILWAY SHEDS 55

old men, children in their Sunday clothes, ail
running to eover. I asked what was up, and
heard that a Taube was at that moment flying
over out hotel. These are the sort of pleasant
things one hears out here! Then I,ady Deeies
eame running in to say that two bombs had fallen
and twenty people vere wounded.
Once more we got bandages and lint and
hurried oit in a motor-ear, but the eivilian doetors
were looking after everyone. The bomb by good
luek had fidlen in a little garden, and had done the
least dalnage imaginable, but every window in the
neighbourhood was smashed.
At night ve went to the railway-sheds ad
dressed wounds. I ruade them do the Germans;
but it was too late for one of them--a handsome
young fellov with both his tet deep blue with
fi-ost-bite, his leg bl'oken, and a great wound in his
thigh. He had hot been touehed tor eight days.
Another man hC a great hole right through his
arm and shoulder. The dressing was rough and
ready. The surgeons elapped a great wad of lint
into the hole and we bound it up. There is no hot
water, no sterilising, no eyanide gauze even, but
iodine saves many lives, and we have plenty of it.
Ïhe German boy was dying when we left. His
eyes above the straw began to look glazed and dira.
Death, at least, is mereiful.
Ve work so late at the railway-sheds that I lie
in bed till lunch rime. Lady Bagot and I go to the
sheds in the evening and stay there till 1 a.m.
11 Vovember. Boulogne.--I got a letter from
J ulia yesterday, telling me that Alan is wounded

56 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
and in hospital at Boulogne, and asking me to go
and see him.
I came here this morning and had to run about
for a long rime before I started getting a "laissez-
passer" for the road, as spies are being shot almost
at sight now. By good chance I got a motor-car
which brought me ail the way ; trains are uncertain,
and filled with troops, and one never knows when
they will arrive.
I round poor old Alan at the Base Hospital, in
terrible pain, poor l:oy, but hot dangerously
wounded. He has been through an awful time,
and nearly ail the officers of his regiment have been
killed or wounded. For my part, in spire of lais
pain, I eau thank God that he is out of the firing-
line for a bit. The horror of the war has got
right into hin, and he has seen things which few
boys of eighteen ean have witnessed. Eight days
in the trenches at Ypres under heavy tire day and
night is a pretty severe test, and Alan has behaved
splendidly. He told me the most awful tales of
what he had seen, but I believe it did him good to
get things off lais chest, so I listened. The thing
he round the most ghastly was the fact that when a
trench has been taken or lost the wounded and
dying and dead are left out in the open. He saysthat
firing never ceases, and itis impossible to reach these
men, who die of starvation within sight of their
comrades.
"Sometimes," Alan said, " we see them raise
themselves on an arm for an instant, and they yell
to us to come to them, but we can't."
His own wound was received when the Germans

STORIES OF THE BRITISH FRONT

"got their range to an inch " and began shelling
theîr trenches. A whole company next to Alan
was wiped out, and he started to go back to tell
his Colonel the trench could not be held. The
communication trench by which he went was not
quite finished, and he had to get out into the open
and race across to where the unfifished trench
began again. Poor child, running for his lire!
H e was badly lait in the groin, but managed just
to tumble into the next bit of the trench, where
he round two men vho carried him, pourig with
blood, to lais Colonel. He was hastily bound up
and carried four toiles on crossed rifles to the hospital
at Ypres, where his wound was properly dressed, and
affer an hour he was put on the train for Boulogne.
Alan had one story of how he was told to wait
at a certain spot with 130 men. "So I waited,"
he said, "but the tire was awful." His regiment
had, it seems, gone round another way. " I got
thirty of the men away," Alan said, " the rest were
killed." It means something to be an oflïcer and a
gentleman.
Every day the list of easualties grows longer, and
I wonder who will be left.
19 .Vovember. F«rnes.--Early on Monday, the
16th, I leff Boulogne in Lady Bagot's car and came
to Dunkirk, where I was laid up with a eold for
two or three days. It was sinmalarly uneolnfort-
able, as no one ever answered my bell, etc. ; but I
had a bed, whieh is always sueh a eomfort, and the
room was heated, so I got my things dry. Very
offen I find the only way to do this or to get dry
elothing is to take things to bed with one--it is

58 DR. MUNRO'S AMBULANCE CORPS
rather ehilly, but better than putting on wet things
in the morning.
The usual number of unexpected people keep
coming and going. At Boulogne I met Lady
Eileen Elliot, lan Malcolm, Lord Francis Scott, and
various others--all very English aJd clean and well
fed. It was quite different froln Furnes, to which
I returned on Vednesday. Most of us sleep on
nattresses on the floor at Furnes, but even these
were ail occupied, so I hopped about getting in
where I could. 'Fhe cold weather "set in in
earnest" as newspapers say. and when it does that
in Furnes it seens tobe partieularly in earnest.

To Lad!! Clementine IYaring:
HôTEL DES ARCADES»
DUNKERQUE,
18 Novmnb, 1914.
DEAREST CLEMM lE,
Forgive the delay in writing again. I was
too sick about it all at first, theu I was sent t0r to
go to Boulogne to see my nephew, who is badly
wouuded. I can't explain the present situation to
you because it would only be censored, but I hope
to write about it later.
I shall manage the soup-kitchens soon, I hope, but
next week will decide that and mauy things. The ob-
jection to the pattern is that those vans would over-
turn going round comers when hitched on behind
ambulances. Some wealthy people are giving a
regular motor kitchen to run about to various "dress-
ing"-stationsthis will be most useihl, but it doesn't
do away th the need of something to eat during
those interminable waits at the raihcag-stations.

CIIANGES IN THE SITUATION 59
To-morrow I begin my own little soup-kitchen
at Furnes. I have a room but no van, and this is
most unsatisfactory, as any day the room (so near
the station) may be commandeered. A van would
make me quite independent, but I must feel my
way. The situation changes very often, as you will
of course see, and when one is quite close to the
Front one has to be ahvays changing with it.
I want helpers al,d I want vans, but rules are
becoming stricter than ever. Eve, Adeline,
Duchess of Bedford, whose good work everyone
knows, has waited for a permit for a week at
Boulogne, and has now gone home. Vhen ail the
useful women bave been expclled there will tbllow
the usual tale of soldiers' suffering and privations :
when women are about they don't let them suflir.
The only plan (if you kllow of .'tlly lllall who
wauts to eolne out) is to knov how to drive a
motor-ear aud then to offer it ad his services to
the Red Cross Soeiety. I have set my heart on
station soup-kitehens beeause I see the lnen put
into horse-boxes on straw straight off the field, and
there they lie without water or light or food while
the train jolts on for hotlrs. I wish I had you here
to baek me up ! We eould do anything together.
As ever, yours gratefiflly,

The motor kitchens eost £600 fitted, but the
maker is giving the one I speak of for ç300. Every-
one has given so much to the war I don't fecl sure
I could collect this amount. I might try America,
but it takes a long rime.

CHAPTER lI1

AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION

21 November.--I ara up to my eyes in soup! 1
have started my soup-kitehen at the station, and it
gives me a lot to do. Bad luek to it, my cold and
eough are pretty bad I
It is odd to wake in the morning in a frozen
room, with every pane of glass green and thick
with frost, and one does not dare to think of Mary
and morning teaI $Vhen I tan summon enough
moral courage to put a foot out of bed I jump into
my elothes at once; half dressed, I go to a little
tap of eold water to wash, and then, and for ever, I
forgive entirely those seetions of soeiety who do
hot tub. We brush out own boots here, and put
on all the clothes we possess, and then deseend to a
breakfast of Quaker oat porridge with bread and
margarine. I wouldn't have it different, really,
till our men are out of the trenches; but 1 ana
hoping most fervently that I shan't break down,
as I am so" full with soup."
Out kitehen at the railway-station is a little bit
of a passage, whieh measures eight feet by eight
feet. In it are two small stoves. One is a little
round iron thing whieh burns, and the other is a
sort of little " kitehener" whieh doesn't ! Vith
60

WORK IN THE SOUP-KITCIIEN 61

this equipment, and various hugc "marmites," we
make coffce and soup for hundrcds of mon evcry
day. The first convoy gets into the station about
9.30 a.m., all thc men frozcn, the black troops
ncarly dcad with cold. As soon as thc train
arrives I carry out onc of my boiling "marmites "
to thc nfiddle of thc stone entrance and ladlc out
thc soup, whilc a Bclgian Sister takes round coffce
and brcad.
These Belgians (three of them) deserve much of
the credit for the soup-kitchen, if any credit is
going about, as they started with coffee belote I
came, and did wonders on nothing. Now that l
bave bought my pots and pans and stores we are
able to do soup, and much more. The Sisters
do the coffee on one side of eight feet by eight,
while I and my vegetables and the stove which
goes out are on the other. We can't ask people to
help because there is no room in the kitchen;
besides, alas! there are so many people who like
raising a man's head and giving him soup, but who
do not like cutting up vegetables.
After the first convoy of wounded bas been
served, other wounded men corne in from rime to
rime, then about 4 o'elock there is another train-
load. At ten p.m. the largest eonvoy arrives.
The men seem too stiff to move, and many are
earried in on soldiers' backs. The stretchers are
laid on the floor, those who ean " s'asseoir" sit on
benches, and every man produees a " quart " or tin
eup. One and all they eome out of the darkness
and never look about them, but rouse themselves to
get fed, and stretch out poor grimy hands for bread

6 AT FURNES RAILVAY-STATION

and steaming drinks. There is very little light--
only one oil-lamp, which hangs ri'oto the roof, and
burns dimly. Under this we place the "marmites,"
and all that I tan see is one brown or black or
wounded hand stretehed out into the dira ring of
light under the lamp, with a little tin mug held out
for soup. Vet and ragged, and eovered with stieky
mud, the wounded lie in the salle of the station,
and, exeept under the lamp, it is all quite dark.
"['here are dira brnls and frosty breaths, and a door
whieh bangs eontinually, and then tbe train loads
up, the wounded depart, and a heavy smell and an
empty pot are all that remain. We elean up the
kitehen, and go home about 1 a.m. I do the night
work alone.
24 «Vovember.Vie are beginning to get into
out stride, .and the small kitehen turns out its
gallons and buekets of liquid. Mrs.  has been
helping me with my work. It is good to see any-
one so beautifnl in the tiny kitehen, and it is quaint
to see anyone so absolutely ignorant of how a pot
is washed or a vegetable peeled.
I have a little eleetrie lamp, whieh is a great
eomfort to me, as I have to walk home alone at
midnight. ¥hen I get up in the morning I have
to remember all I shall want during the day. as the
villa is a mlle from the station, so I take my lantern
out at 9.30 a.m. !
1[ saw a Belgian regiment mareh baek to the
trenehes to-day. ïhey had a poor little band and
some tbggy instruments, and a bugler flourished a
trumpet. I stood by the roadside and eried till I
eouldn't see.

A LETTER HOME 63

To Mis.s" llary King.
FURNES» BEI.GIUM»
°7 November.
|)ER MAV,
You will like to know thaU I bave a soup-
kitchen at the station here, and I ara up to my
neek in soup. I make it all day nd a good bit of
the night too, for the wounded are coming in all
the rime, ad they are lmlf t?ozen--especially the
black troops. People are being so kind about the
work I ara doing, and they are all saying xvhat a
eomfort the soup is fo the men. Sometines I [ed
several hundreds in a day.
l am sure everyone vill grieve to hear of the
death of I,ord Roberts. but I think he died just as
he would wish to bave died---amongst his old troops,
who loved him, and in the service of the King.
He was a fine soldier and a Christian gentleman,
and you ean't sy better of a man than that.
I feel a if I had been out here for years, and it
seems quite odd to think that one used to wear
evening dress and have a tire in one's room. 1 ara
promising myself, if ail goes well. to get home
about Christmas-fime. I wish 1 could think
that the xvar would be over by then, but it doesn't
look very like it.
Remelnber me to Gwennie, and to all your
people. Take eare of your old self.
Yours truly,
S. MACVnTA'.

1 December.mMrs. Knocker and Miss Chisholm
and Lady Dorothy went out to Pervyse a few days

6

AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION

ago to make soup, etc., for Belgians in the trenches.
They live in the cellar of a bouse which has been
blown inside out by guns, and take out buckets of
soup to men on outpost duty. Not a glimpse of
tire is allowed on the outposts. Fortunately the
weather has been milder lately, but soaking wet.
Out three ladies walk about the trenches at night,
and I corne home at 1 a.m. from the station. The
men of ou.r party meanwhile do some house-work.
They sit over the tire a good deal, clear away the
tea-things, and when we corne home at night we
find they have put hot-water bottles in out beds
and trimmed some lamps. I feel like Alice in
Vonderland or some other upside-down world.
IVe live in much discomfort, which is a little un-
necessary ; but no one seems to want to undertake
housekeeping.
I make soup all day, and there is not much else
to write about. All along the Yser the Allies and
the Germans confront each other, but things have
been quieter lately. The piteous list of casualties
is not so long as it has been. A wounded German
was brought in to-day. Both his legs vere broken
and his feet fl'ost-bitten. He had been for four
days in water with nothing to eat, and his legs
unset. He is doing well.
On Sunday [ drove out to Pervyse witb a kind
friend, Mr. Tapp. At the end of the long avenue
by which one approaches the village, Pervyse
church stands, like a sentinel with both eyes shot
out. Nothing is left but a blind stare. Hardly
any of the church remains, and the churchyard is
as if some devil had stalked through it, tearing up •

PERVYSE 65

erosses and kieking down graves. Even the dead
are hOt leff undisturbed in this awful war. The
village (like many other villages) is just a mass of
gaping ruins--roofs blown oiT, streets full of holes,
not a window left unshattered, and the guns still
booming.

"lb Mrs. Charles l'croirai.

.5 December.
I)ARLING TAB,
I bave a chance of sending this to England
to be posted, so I mustsend you a line to wish you
many happy returns of thc day. 1 wish we could
bave our yearly kiss. I wil} think of you a lot, iny
dear, on the 8th, and drink your health if I can
raise the wherewithal. We are not falllOUS for our
comforts, and it would amaze you to see how very
nasty bod can be, and how very little one can get
of it.
I have an interesting job now, and it is my own.
which is rather a mercy, as I never know which is
most common, dirt or muddle. I can bave things
as clean as I like, and my soup is getting quite a
naine for itselE The first convoy of wounded
generally cornes into the station about 11 a.m. It
may number anything. Then the men are put
into the train, and there begins a weary wait fbr
the poor fellows till more wounded arrive and the
train is loaded up, and somimes they are kept
there ail day. The stretcher cases are in a long
coidor, and the sitting-up cases  ordinary trd-
class camiages. Yhe sitters are wo, limping mcn,

66 AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION
with bandaged heads, and hauds bound up. who
are yet capable of sitting up in a train.
The transport is well donc, 1 think (far better
than in South Africa), but more women are wanted
to look after details. To give you one instance:
all stretchers are lnade of different sizes, so that if"
a man arrives on a ambulalce, the stretchers
belonging to it cannot go into the train, and the
poor wounded nan has to be lifted and " trans-
fcrred," wbich causes him (i the case of broken
legs or intcrnal injuries especially) untold suffering.
It also takes up mucb room, and gives endless
trouble tbr the sake of an inch a»d a hall of space,
which is the usual difference in the size of the
stretchers, but that prevets them slipping into
the sockets on the train.
Another thing I have noticed is, that no man,
even lying down in the train, ever gets his boots
taken oiT. ïhe men's feet are always soaked
through, as they have been standing up to their
knees in water in the trenches; but, of course,
slippers are unheard of. I do wonder if ladies
could be persuaded to make any sort of list or felt
or even flannel slippers? 1 saw quite a good
pattern the other day, and will try to send you one,
in case Eastbourne should fise to the occasion.
Of course, there must be hundred« of pairs, and
heaps would get lost. 1 do believe other centres
would join, and the eost of material fbr slippers
would be quite trifling. A priest goes in eaeh
corridor train, and there is ahvays a stove where
the boots eould be dried. I believe slippers ean be
bought for about a shilling a pair. The men's feet

THE SHELLING OF LAMPERNESSE 67

are enormous. Cases should be marked with a red
cross, and sent per s.s. lnvi«ta, Admiralty l'ier,
Dover.
The fighting has had a sort of lull hcre for some
time, but there are always horrible things happen-
ing. The other day at Lampernesse, 500 soldiers
were sleeping on straw in a church. A spy informed
the Germans, who were twelve toiles off, but they
got the range to an inch, and sent shells straight
into the church, killing and wounding neady every-
one in it, and leaving men uuder the ruius. We
had some terrible cases that day. The church was
shelled at 6 a.m., and by 11 a.m. ail t}e wouuded
were having soup and coffee at the station. !
thought their faces were more full of horror than
any I had seen.
The parson belongig to out convoy is a parti-
cularly nice young fellow. 1 imve had a bad cold
lately, and every night he purs a hot-water bottle
in my bed. Vhen he tan raise any food he lays a
little supper for me, so that when I corne in between
12 and 1 o'clock I tan have something fo eat, a
lump of cheese, plum jam, and perhaps a piece of
bully beef, always three pieces of ginger ti'om a
paper bag he has of them. Last nigbt when I got
back I round I couldn't open the door leading into
a sort of garage tbrough which we have to enter
this house. I pushed as hard as I could, and then
found I was pushing against horses, and that a
whole squad of troop horses bad been shoved in
there for the night, so I had to make my entry
under their noses and behind their heels. Pinned
to the table inside the house was a note from the
6

68 AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION
parson, "I can't get you any food, but I have put
a bottle of port-wine in your room. Stick to it."
I had meant to go early to church to-day, but I
was really too tired, so I am writing to you instead.
Now I nust be getting up, for "business must be
attended to."
Vrell, good-bye, my dear. I ara always too busy
to write now, so would you mind sending this
]etter on to the family ?
Vour loving sister,
S. IIACNAUGHTAN.

December.--Unexpected people continue to
arrive at Furnes. Mme. Curie and her daughter
are in charge of the X-ray apparatus at the
hospital. Sir Bartle Frere is there as a guest.
Miss Vaughan, of the Nur«ing "lTmes, came in out
of the dark one evelfing. To-day the King has
been here. God bless him! he always does the
right thing.
6 De«ember.--My horizon is bounded by soup
and the men who drink it. There is a stir outside
tbe kitcben, and someone says, " Convoi." So then
we begin to fill pots and take steaming " marnfites "
off tbe tire. Ïhe "sitting cases" corne in first,
hobbling, or carried on tbeir comrades' backs--
heads and feet bandaged or poor hands maimed.
When they have been catwied or have stiffly and
slowly marched through the entrance to the train,
the "' brancard" cases are brought in and laid on
the floor. They are hastily examined, and a doctor
goes round reading the labels attached to them
which describe their wounds. An English am-

A QUESTION OF STRETCIIERS 69
bulance and a French one wait to take serious
cases to their respective hospitals. The others are
lifted on to train-stretchers and carried to the train.
Two doctors came out from England on inspec-
tion duty to-day. They asked if I had anything to
report, and I ruade them comc to tlJe station to go
into this nmtter of the different-sized stretchers.
It is agony to the nlCll tO be shifted. Da'. Vilson
has promised to take up the question. The trans-
port service is now much improved. 'rhe trains
are heated and lighted, and priests travel with the
lying-down cases.
8 De«cmber.--I have a little " charette " for my
soup. It is painted red, aud gives a lot of amuse-
ment to the wounded. The trains «ire very long,
and my small carriage is useful tbr cups and basins,
bread, soup, coffee, etc. Clemmie Varing designed
and sent it to me.
To-day I vas giving out my soup on the train
and three shells came in in quick succession. One
came just over my head and lodged in a haystall
on the other side of the platform. The wall of the
store bas an enonnous hole in it, but the thickly
packed hay prevented the shrapnel scattering.
The station-toaster was hit, and his watch saved
him, but it was crumpled up like a rag. Tvo men
were wounded, and one of them died. A whole
crowd of refugees came in ri-oto Coxide, vhich is
being heavily shelled. There was hot a scrap of
food for them, so I ruade soup in great quantities,
and distributed it to them in a crowded room whose
atmosphere was thick. Ladling o,ut the soup is
great fun.

70 AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION
12 December.--Thc days are vcry short now, and
darkness falls early. All the strects are dark, so are
thc houscs, so is thc station. Two candlcs arc
a rare treat, and oil is difficult to gct.
Such a nicc boy dicd to-night. Ve brought him
to thc hospital from the station, and learned that he
had lain for eight days woundcd and untended.
Strangcly enough ho was nakcd, and had only
a blanket over him on thc strctcher. I do hot
know why ho was still alivc. Everything was donc
for him that could be donc, but as I passed through
one of the wards this evening the nurses were doing
their last kindly duty to him. Poor felloxvl He
was one of those who had "given even their names."
No one knew who he was. He had a xvoman's
portrait tattooed on his breast.
19 December.--Not mueh to record this week.
The days have beeome more stereotyped, and their
variety eonsists iii the number of wounded who
eome in. One day we had 280 extra men to feed
--a bateh of soldiers returning hungry to the
trenehes, and some refugees. So far we have never
refused anyone a eup of soup ; or eoffee and bread.
I haven't been fit lately, and get fearful bad
headaehes. I go to the station at 10 a.m. every
morning, and work till 1 o'eloek. Then to the
hospital for lunch. I like the staff there very
mueh. The sulgeons are not only skilful, but
they are men of edueation. We all get on well
together, in spire of that eurious form of retaper
whieh war always seems to bring. No one is affable
here, exeept those who bave just eome out fi'om
home, and it is quite eommon to hear a request

NAR WORKERS' DIFFICULTIES 71

ruade and refused, or granted with, " Please do not
ask again." Neweomers are looked upon as aliens,
and there is a queer sort of jealousy about all the
woçk.
Oddly enough, few persons seem to show at their
best at a rime when the best should be apparent.
No doubt, it is a form of nerves, which is quite
pardonable. Nurses and surgeons do hot surfer
from it. They are aceustomed to work and to
seeing sufthring, but amateur workers are a bit
headlong at tines. I think the expectation of
excitenent (which is often fl-ustrated) has a good
deal to do with it. Those who "come out for
thrills" offen have a long waiting rime, and energics
unexpended in one direction often show themselves
unexpectedly and a little unpleasantly in another.
I n my own department I always let Zeal spend
itself' unchecked, and I find that people who have
claimed work or a job ferociously are the first to
complain ofover-work if leff to themselves. Affer-
wards, if there is any good in them, they settle
down into their stride. They are only like young
horses, pulling too hard at first and sweating off
their strengthjibbing one moment and shying
the next--when it cornes to " 'ammer, 'ammer,
'ammer on the 'ard 'igh road," one finds who is going
to stick it and who is hot.
There has been some heavy firing round about
Nieuport and south of the Yser lately, and an
unusual number of wounded have been coming in,
many of them "gravement blessés."
One evening a young French officer came to the
kitchen for soup. It was on Vednesday, Decem-

7 AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION
ber 16th, the day the Allies assumed the offensive,
and all night cases were being brought in. He was
quite a boy, and utterly shaken by what he had been
through. He could only repeat, " It was horrible,
horrible !" These are the men who tell brave tales
when they get home, but we see them dirty and
worn, when they have left the trenches only an
hour before, and have the horror of battle in their
eyes.
There are scores of" pieds gelés "at present, and
I now have bags of socks for these. So many nen
come in with bare feet, and I hope in tilne to get
càrpet slippers and socks for them all. One night
no one came to help, and I had a great business
getting down a long train, so 5Irs. Logette bas
promised to corne every evening. The kitchen is
much nicer now, as we are in a larger passage, and
we have three stores, lamps, etc. 5Iany things
are being "straightened out" besicles, my poor
little corner and war seems better understood.
There is hardly a thing which is not thought of
and done for the sick and wounded, and I should
say a grievance was impossible.
I still lodge at the Villa Joos, and am beginning
to enjoy a study ofmiddle-class provincial lire. The
ladies do ail the house-work. Ve have breakfast
(a bite) in the kitchen at 8.30 a.m., then I go to
make soup, and when I corne back after lunch for
a rest, " the family " are dressed and sitting round
a stove, and this they continue to do till a meal has
to be prepared. There is one lamp and one table,
and one store, and unless papa pla.ys the pianola
there is nothing to do but talk. No one reads, and

EXPE1)ITI()N TO DUNKIRK 73
only one voman does a little embroidery, vhile the
small girl of the party cuts out scraps from a
fashion paper.
The poor convoy I it is becoming very squahbly
and tiresome, and there is a good deal of " talking
over," which is one of the weakest sidcs of "' com-
lnunal lire." It is petty and ridicuh)us to quarrel
vhen I)eath is so ncar, and things are so big and
often so tragic. 'et hunm nature bas strict
limitations. 51r. Ramsay 5IacDonald came out
frotn the COlnmittee to see what ail the complaints
were about. So tlerc were strange intervicws, in
store-rooms, etc. (no one has a place to call their
own I), and everyone " explained" and '" gave
evidence" and tried to " put matters straight."
It rains every day. This may be a" providence,"
as the floods are keeping the Germans away. The
sound of constater rain on the xvindoxv-panes is a
little mclancholy, l,et us pray that in singleness
and cheerfulness of heart xve may do out little bit
of work.
23 D¢cember.--¥esterday I motored iuto I)un-
kirk, and did a lot of shopping. By accident our
motor-car went back to Furnes without me, and
there was hot a bed to be had in Dunkirk I Ai'ter
many vicissitudes I met Captain Vhiting. who
gave up his room in his ovn house to me, and
slept at the club. I was in clover tbr oce, and
nearly wept when I round lny boots brushed
and hot water af my door. It was so like home
again.
I was leaving the station to-day when shelling
began again. One shell dropped not far behind

74 AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION
the bridge, which I had just crossed, and wrecked
a house. Another fell into a boat on the canal and
wounded the occupants badly. I went to tell the
Belgian Sisters not to go down to the station, and
I lunched at their housc, and then went home till
the evening work began. People are aLvays telling
one that danger is now over--a hidden gun has
been diseovered and captured, and there will
be no more shelling. Quel blague ! The shelling
goes on j ust the saine whether hidden guns are
eaptured or not.
] ean't say at present when l shall get home,
beeause no one ever knows what is going to happen.
1 don't quite know who vould take my place at the
soup-kitchen if I were to leave.
25 December.My Christmas Day began at
midnight, when I walked home through the
moonlit empty streets of Furnes. At 2 a.m. the
guns began to roar, and roared all night. They
say the Allies are making an attack.
I got up early and went to ehureh in the untidy
sehool-room at the hospital, whieh is ealled the
nurses' sitting-rooln. Mr. Streatfield had arranged
a little altar, which was quite niee, and had set
some chairs in an orderly row. As mueh as in him
lay--from the altar linen to the white artifieial
flowers in the vasesall was as deeent as could be
and there were eandles and a cross. We were
quite a small eongregation, but another service had
been held earlier, and the wounded heard Mass in
their ward at 6 a.m. The priests put up an
altar there, and 1 believe the singing was excellent.
Inside we prayed for peaee, and outside the guns

UHRISTMAS IN BEI,GIUM 75

went on firing. Prince Alexander of Teck came to
out service--a big soldierly figure in the bare
room.
After breakfast I went to the soup-kitchen at
the station, as usual, then home--i.e., to the
hospital to lunch. At 8.15 came a sort of evensong
with hymns, and then we went to the civil
hospital, where there was a Christmas-tree for ail
the Belgian refugee ehildren. Anything more
touching I never saw, and to be with them ruade
one blind with tears. Oue tiny mite, with her
head in bandages, and a little black shawl on, was
introdueed to me as "une blessée, madame."
Another little boy in the hospital is always spoken
of gravely as "the civilian."
Every man, woman, and child got a treat or a
present or a good dinner. The wounded had
turkey, and ail they could eat, and the children got
toys and sweets off the tree. I suppose these
children are hOt much accustomed to presents, for
their delight was almost too much for them. I
have never seen such excitement! Poor mites l
without homes or money, and with their relations
often lost--yet little boys were gibbering over
their toys, and little girls clung to big parcels, and
squeaked dolls or blew trumpets. The bigger
children had rather good voices, and ail sang out
National Anthem in English. " God save out
nobbler King"the accent was quaint, but the
children sang lustily.
We had finished, and were waiting for our own
Christmas dinner when shells began to fly. One
came whizzing past Mr. Streatfield's store-room as

76 AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION
I stood there with him. The next minute a little
child in floods of tears came in, grasping hcr
mother's bag, to say "Maman" had had ber arn
blown off. The child hersclf was covcred with dust
and dirt, and in the strects people wcre sheltcrig
in doorways, ad talig little runs for safety as
soo as a shcll had finished bursting. The bombard-
meurt lastcd about an lour, and we all waited in
the kitchen and listcned to it. At such rinces,
whc everyone is rathcr strmg up, soneone always
and continually lets things fall. A nun clattcrcd
down a pail, and Mauricc thc cook secmed to fling
sauccian-lids on the floor.
About 8.15 thc bonbardmct ccased, and we
went i to a cheery dinner--soup, turkey, and
plu-puddig, with crackers and speechcs, l
belicve o oc would havc guessed wc had bec a
bit "o the stretch."
At 9.30 l wcnt to the stations. It was vcrv
nclancholy. No one was thcrc but myscli Thc
rires werc out, or smoking badly. Evcryone had
becn scarcd to dcath by the shclls, and talled of
nothing elsc, wbercas shells should be forgotten
dircctly. I got things in order as soon as I could
and tbe wounded in tbc traîn got their hot soup
and coffee as usual, which was a satisfactio.
I came bonc aloe at midnigbt--leeping as near
the houses as I could bccausc of possible shells
and so to bed, very cold, and rathcr too inclied to
thinl about home.
26 December.Vent to the station. Oddly
enough, very fcw wounded wcre there, so I came
away, ad had my first day at lomc. I got a little

A BELGIAN DINNER-PARTY 77
oil-stove put in my room, vrote letters, tidied up,
and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
A Taube came over and hovered above Furnes,
and dropped bombs. I ,cas at the Villa, and the
family of Joos and I stood and watehed it, and a
nasty dangerous moth it looked away up in the sky.
Presently it came over our house, so we went down
to the kitehen. A few shots were fired, but the
Taube was far too high up to be hit. Max. the
Joos' cousin, went out and "tirait," to the admira-
tion of the women-kind, and then, of course,
" Papa" had to lmve a try. The two men, with
their little gun and their talk and gesticulations, leur
a queer touch of cotait opera to the scene. The
garden vas so small, the men in their little bats
were so suggestive of the " broken English" scene
on the stage, that one (.ould only stand and laugh.
The Joos family are quite a study, and so kind.
On Christmas Eve I dined with them, and they
gave me the best of ail they had. There was
a pheasant, which someone had given the doctor (I
fancy he is a very small practitioner alnongst the
poor people) ; surely, never did a bird give more
pleasure. I had known of its taï'irai days bef()re
by seeing Fernande, the little girl, decorated with
tathers from its rail. Then the good papa must
be decorated also, and these small jokes delighted
the whole family to the point of ecstasy.
On Christmas Eve Monsieur Max conceived the
splendid joke, carefully arranged, of presenting
Madame Joos--who is young and pretty--and the
doctor with two parcels, which on being opened
contained the child's umbrella and a toy gun.

78 AT FURNE$ RAILWAY-STATION
There wasn't even a comic address on the parcels ;
but Yrma, the servant, carefully trained for the
part, brought them in in fits of delight, and all the
family laughed with joy till the tears ran doum
their cheeks. As they wiped their eyes, they ad-
mitted they were sick with laughter. After supper
we had the pianola, played by papa ; and I must say
that, when one can get nothing else, this instrument
gives a great deal of pleasure. One gets a sort of
ache for music which is just as bad as being hungry.
27 Decevber.--Bad, bad weather again. It bas
rained almost continuously for rive weeks. Yester-
day it snowed. _41ways the wind blows, and some-
thing lashes itself against the panes. One can't
leave the windows open, as the rooms get flooded.
It is amazingly cold o' nights, I can't sleep for
the cold.
We have some funny incidents at the station
sometimes. A particularly amusing one occurred
the other day, when three ladies in knickerbockers
and khaki and badges appeared at our soup-kitchen
door and announced they were "on duty" there till
6 o'clock. I was not there, but the scene that
followed has been described to me and has often
made me laugh.
It seems the ladies never got further than the
door! Some people might have been firm in the
'" Too sorry ! Come-some-other-day-when-we-are-
not-so-busy" sort of way. Not so Miss . In
more primitive rimes she would probably have gone
for the visitors with a broom, but her tongue is just
as rough as the hardest besoin, and from their dress
("skipping over soldiers" faces with breeches

OlrR q'ROIHILE WITtI SPIES 79
indeed I") to their corps there was very little left of
them.
It wasn't really from the dog-in-the-manger
spirit that the little woman acted. The fact is that
Belgians and French run the station together, and
they are all agreed on one thing, which is, that lio
one but an authorised and registered person is to
corne within its doors. Heaveii knows the trouble
there has been with spies, and this rule is abso-
lutely necessary.
Two Rcd Cross khaki-clad men have been driv-
ing everywhere iii Fumes, and have been found to
be Gernmns. Had we permitted itinerant workers,
the authorities gave notice that the kitchen would
bave to close.
In the evening, when I went to the station,
auother knickerbockered lady sat there [ I told her
our difficulties, but allowed her to do a little work
rather than hurt her feelings. The following day
Miss  engaged in deadly conflict vith the lady
who had sent our unvelcome visitors. Over the
scene we will draw a veil, but we never saw the
knickerbockered ladies again [
31 De«ember, 1914.--The last day of this bad
old year. I feel quite thankful for the summer I
had at the Grange. It has been somethiug to look
back upon all the rime I have been here; the
pergolas of pink roses, the sleepy fields, the dear
people who used to come and stay with lle, and ail
the fun and pleasure of it, help one a good deal now.
Yesterday was a fine day in the middle of weeks
of tain. çVhen I came down to breakfast in the
Joos' little kitchen I remarked, of course, on the

80 AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION
beauty of the weather. ,, rhat a day for Taubes I"
said Monsieur Max, looking up at the clear blue
sky. Before 1 had left home there was a shell
in a street close by, and one heard that already
these horrible birds of prey had been at work, and
had thrown two bombs, which destroyed two houses
in "the Rue des Trèfles. The pigeons that circle
round the old buildings in Furnes always seem to
see the Taubes first, as if they knew by sight their
hateful brothers. They flutter disturbed from roof
and turret, and then, with a flash of white wings,
they fly far away. I oten wish I had wings when
I see them.
1 went to the station, and then to the hospital for
slippers for some wounded men. Five aeroplanes
were overhead--Allies' and German--and there was
a good deal of firing. I was struck by the fact that
the night before I had seen exactly this scene in a
dream. Second sight always gives me much to
think about. The inevitableness of things seems
much accentuated by it. In my dream I stood by
the other pccple in the yard looking at the war in
the air, and watching the cireling aeroplanes and the
bursts of smoke.
At the station there was a nasty feeling that
something was going to happen. The q'aubes
wheeled about and hovered in the blue. I went to
the hospital for lunch, and afterwards I asked Mr.
Bevan to corne to the station to look at some
wounded whose dressings had not been touched for
too long. He said he would tome in hall an hour,
so I said I wouldn't wait, as he knew exactly where
to find the men, and I came back to the Villa for

SHELLS AT FURNES 81

my rest. A s I walked home I heard that the station
had been shelled, and I met one of the Belgian
Sisters and told her hot to go on duty till affer
dark, but I had no idea till evening came of what
had happened. Ïen shells burst in or round the
station. M en, women, and children were killed.
They tell me that limbs were fiying, and a French
chauffeur, who came on here, picked up a man's
leg in the street. M r. Bevan sent up word to
say none of us was to go to the station for the
present.
At Dunkirk seven Taubes flew overhead and
dropped bombs, killing twenty-eight people. At
PerxoEse shells are eoming in every day. I ean't help
wondering when we shall elear out of this. If the
bridges are destroyed it will be diflïeult to get away.
The weather has turned very wet again this evening.
We have only had two or three fine days in as many
months. The wind howls day and night, and the
place is so well known Ibr it that" vent de Furnes"
is a byword. No doubt the floods proteet us, so one
mustn't grumble ata sore throat.
1 January.The station was shelled again to-
day. Three houses were destroyed, and there was
one person killed and a good many more were
wounded. A rumour got about that the
Germans had promised 500 shells in Furnes on
New Year's Day.
In the evening I went down to the station, and 1
was evidently not expeeted. Nota thing was ready
for the wounded. The man in charge had let all
three rires out, and he and about seven soldiers
(mostly drunk) were making merry in the kitehen.

80 AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION

None of them would budge, and I was glad I had
young Mr. Findlay with 1ne, as he was in uniform,
and helped to get things straight. But these
French seem to have very little discipline, and even
when the military doctors came in the men did
nothing but argue with them. It was amazing to
hear them. One night a soldier, who is always drunk.
was lying on a brancard in the doctor's own room.
and no one seemed to mind.
3 Jaltuary, Sltday.--I have had my usual rest
and hot bath. I find I never want a holiday if I
may have my Sundays. l spent a lazy atternoon in
bliss Scott's room, she being ill, then went to
Mr. Streatfield's service, dinner, and the station.
A new oflïcer was on duty there, and was intro-
duced to the kitchen. He said, "Les anglais, of
course. No one else ever does anything for any-
body."
I believe this is very nearly the case. God
knows, we are full of faults, but the superiority of
the British race to any other that I know is a
matter of deep conviction with me, and it is founded,
I think, on wide experience.
6 January.--I went to Adinkerke two days ago
to establish a soup-kitchen there, as they say that
Furnes station is too dangerous. e have been
given a nice little waiting-room and a store. 'Ve
heard to-day that the station-toaster at Furnes bas
been signalling to the enemy, so that is why we
have been shelled so punctually. His daughter is
engaged to a German. Two of out hospital people
noticed that before each bombardment a blue light
appeared to flash on the sky, They reported the

THE SHELLING GETS WORSE 83

marrer, with the restait that the signals were dis-
covered.
There has been a lot of shelling again to-day, and
several houses are destroyed. A child of two years
is in our hospital with one leg blown off and the
other broken. One only hears people spoken of
as, "the man with the abdomilml trouble," or « the
one shot through the lungs."
Children knoxv the different aeroplanes by sight,
and one little girl, when I ask her for news, gives
me a list of the" obus "that have arrived, and whieh
have "s'éclaté," and xvhich have uot. ()e eau see
that she despises those which " ne s'6clatent pas."
One says " Bon soir, pas des obus," as in English
one says, "Good-night, sleep well."
10 Jamtary.--Prince Alexander of Teck diued
at the hospital last night, and we had a great spread.
Madame Sindici did wonders, and there were hired
plates and finger-bowls, and food galore ! Ve felt
real swells. An old General--the head of the
Army Medical Corps--gave me the most grateful
thanks for serving the soldiers. If ,vas gn'acefully
and delightfiflly done.
I am going home for a veek's holiday.
14 January.--1 went home via Calais. Mr. Bevan
and Mr. Morgan took me there. It was a line day
and I felt happy for once, that is, for once out here.
Some people enjoy this war. I think it is far the
worst rime, except one, I ever spent. Perhaps I
bave seen more suffering than most people. A
doetor sees a hospital, and a nurse sees a ward of
siek and wounded, but I see them by the hundred
passing before me in an endless train all day. I
7

8

AT FURNES RAILWAY-STATION

can make none of them really better. I feed
them, and they pass on.
One reviews one's lire a little as one departs.
Always I shall remember Fumes as a place of wet
streets and long dark evenings, with gales blowing,
and as a place where I have been always alone. I
have hot once all this rime exchanged a thought
with anyone. I bave lived in a very damp attic,
and talked French to some kind middle-class people,
and I have walked a mile for every meal I ha'e
had. So I shall always think of Fumes as a wet,
dark place, and of myself with a lantern trudging
about its mean streets.

CHAPTER IV

WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES

I HAvE not written lny diary fbr SOlne weeks. I
went home to England and stayed at Rayleigh
House. On my Way home I met Mr. F. Vare,
who told me submarines were about. As I had
but just left a much-shelled town, I think he might
have held his peace. The usual warm welcolne at
Rayleigh House, with M ary there to meet me, and
Emily Strutt.
I wasn't very tired when I first arrived, but
fatigue came out on me like a rash afterwards. I
got more tired every day, and ended by having a
sort of breakdown. This rather spoilt my holiday,
but it was very nice seeing people again. It was
difficult, I round, to accommodate myself to small
things, and one was anaazed to find people still
driving serenely in closed broughams. It was like
going back to lire on earth again after being in
rather a horrible other vorld. I went to my own
house and enjoyed the very smell of the place.
M y little library and an hour or two spent there
ruade my happiest rime. DitTerent people asked
me to things, but I wasn't up to going out, and the
weather was amazingly bad.
85

86

WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES

I was to have gone back to work on the Thursday
week after I arrived home, but I got a telegram
from Madame Sindici saying Furnes was being
shelled, and the hospital, etc., was to be evacuated.
Dr. Perrin, who was to have taken me back, had to
start immediately without me. It was difficult to
get news, and hearing nothing 1 went over on
Saturday, January 23rd, as I had left Mrs. Clitheroe
in charge of my soup-kitchen, and thought I had
better do the burning deck act and get back toit.
Mr. Bevan and Mr. Morgan met me at Calais,
and told me to xvait at Dunkirk, as everyone was
quitting Furnes. One of our poor nurses was
killed, and the Joos' little house was much damaged.
I stopped at Mrs. Clitheroe's fiat, very glad tobe
ill in peace after my seedy condition in London and
a bad crossing. Rested quietly ail Sunday in the
fiat by myself. Itis an empty, bare little place,
with neither earpets nor eurtains, but there is
something home-like about it, the result, I think,
of having an open tire in one room.
On Monday, the 25th, I went baek to work at
Adinkerke station, to whieh place our soup-kitehen
has been moved. I got a warm weleome from the
Belgian Sisters. Itis very diflïeult doing the
station work from Dunkirk, as itis 16 kilometres
from Adinkerke ; but the place itself is niee, and 1
just have to trust to liffs. I fill my pockets with
cigarettes and go to the " sortie de la ville," and
just wait for something to pass--and some queer,
bumpy rides I get. Still, the soldiers who drive me
are delightful, and the cigarettes are always taken
as good pay.

ILLNESS AT l)UNKIRK 87
One day I went and spent the night at
Hoogstadt, where the hospital now is, and that I
much enjoyed. Dr. Perrin gave up his little room
to me, and the nurses and staff were all so fifil of
welcome and pleasant speeches.
On Monday, February 8th, I went out to La
Panne to start living in the hotel there ; but I was
really dreadfully seedy, and suffered so much that
I had to return to the fiat at Dunkirk again tobe
nursed. 5Iy day at La Panne was therefore very
sad, as I nearly perished with cold, and felt so ill.
Nota soul caille near me, and I wished I could be
a Belgian refugee, when I might have had a little
attention froln somebody.
On Tuesday, February 9th, a Belgian ofllcer
came into Adinkerke station, claimed out kitchen
as a bureau, and turned us out on to the platform.
I am trying to get General 5]illis to interfere;
but, indeed, the rudeness of this man's act makes
one furious.
1, Febr«««ry.--I have been laid up for some
days at the fiat at Dunkirk. Itis amazing to
realise that this place should be one's present idea
of comfort. It bas no carpets, no curtains, nota
blind that will pull up or down, and rather dirty
floors, yet itis so much more comfortable than
anything I have had yet that I am too thankful to
be here. There is a gas-ring in the kitchen, on
which itis possible to cook out food, and there are
shops where things can be got.
Mr. Strickland and I are both laid up here, and
Miss Logan nurses us devotedly. Out joy is
having a sitting-room with a tire in it. Vas there

88 WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
ever anything hall so good as that tire, or half so
homely, half so warm or so much one's own ? I lie
on thrce chairs in front of it, and hcadache and
cold and throat are ahnost forgottcn. The wind
howls, the sea roars, and acroplancs fly ovcrhead,
but at lcast we havc our tire and are at home.
lï Fcbruary.--Anothcr cold, wct day. I ara
alonc in thc fiat with a "femme de mdnage" to look
aftcr me. A doctor cornes to sce me somctim¢s.
Miss Logau and Mr. Strickland lcft this morning.
Thcrc was a tcmpcst of rain, and I couldn't think
of being movcd. Thcy wcrc swcct and kind, and
fclt bad about lcaving me; but I am just loving
bcing lcff alone with SOlllC books and my tire.
I havc bccn lying in bcd corrccting proofs. Oh,
thc joy of bcing at onc's own work again ! Just to
sec print is a plcasurc. I bclicvc I bave forgottcn
all Icvcr knew bcforc thc war began. A magazine
article cornes to me likc a lanmgc I havc almost
forgotten.
18 F«bruary.--This is the day that German
"piracy" is supposcd to bcgin. Vc hcard a grcat
explosion carly this morning, but it was only a
mine that had bccn found on thc shorc bcing blown
up. Thc sailors' aeroplanc corps is oppositc us,
and wc sec Commander Samson and othcrs flying
off in thc morning and whirling back at night, and
thon wc hcar thcrc has bcen a raid somcwhcrc.
IVhen a Taube cornes over hcrc the sailors tire at
it with a gun just opposite us, and then tcll us they
only doit to givc us flowcr-vasesi.e., empty shcll-
cases !
Sir. Holland came here to-day, and told me

SOME ST(}RIES OF TIIE WAR 89

some humorous sides of his experiences with
ambulances. One man from the Chureh Army
marched in, and said- " I ara a Christian and you
are not. I tome here for petrol, and I ask it, hot
for the Red Cross, but in the naine of Christ."
Another man came dashing in, and said" " I want
to go to Poperinghe. I was once there before, and
the mud was beastly. Send someone with me."
My own latest experience was with an American
woman of awful vulgarity. I asked her if she was
busy, like everyone else in this place, and she said-
"No. I was suftizring from a ervous break-
down, so I came out here. Vhat is your war is
my peace, and I now sleep like a baby."
I want adjectives I How is one to describe the
people who corne for one brief visit to the station
or hospital witb au intense conviction that they and
they only feel the suffering or even notice the
wants of the men. Solne are good workers.
Others I call "This-poor-fellow-has-had-none."
Nurses may have been up all night, doctors may be
worked off their feet, seven hundred men may have
passed through the station, ail wounded and ail
fed, but when our visitors arrive they discover that
" This poor fellow has had none," and firmly, and
with a high sense of duty and of their own
efficiency, they make the thing known.
No one else has heard a man shouting for water ;
no one else knovs that a man wants soup. Ïhe
man may have appendicitis, or colitis, or pancrea-
titis, or he may bave been shot through the lungs
or the abdomen. It doesn't matter. Ïhe casual
visitor knows he has been neglected, and she says

90 WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
so, and quite indiseriminately she fi]ls everyone up
with soup. Only she is tender-hearted. Only she
could never really be hardened by being a nurse.
She seizes a little eup, stoops over a man graeefully,
and raises his head. Then she wants things passed
to her, and someone must help her, and someone
must listen to what she has to say. She feeds one
man in hall an hour, and goes away horrified at the
way things are done. Fortunately these people
never stay for long.
Then there is another. She ean't understand
why out ships should be blown up or why trenehes
should be taken. In her own mind she proves
herself of good sound intelligence and a member of
the Empire who won't be bamboozled, when she
says firmly and with heat, "Vhy don't we do
something?" She would like to seold a few
Generals and Admirais, and she says she believes
the Germans are much eleverer than ourselves.
This last taunt she hopes will make people " do
something." It. stings, she thinks.
I eould write a good deal about this " solitary
winter," but I have not had rime either to write
or to read. I think something inside me has stood
still or died during this war.
21 t«bru«r!t, Sundaj.The Munro corps has
swooped down in its usual hurry to distribute
letters, and to say that someone is waiting down
below and they can't stop. Ïhey eat a hasty
sardine, drink a cup of coftee, and are off !
To-day I have made this fiat tidy at last, and
bave had it cleaned and serubbed. I bave thrown
away old papers and elnpty boxes, and can sit

THE COMMUNAL I,IFE 91
down and sniff contentedly. No convoy-ite sees
the difference I
I think I have learnt every phase of muddle and
makeshift this winter, but chiefly bave I learnt the
value of the Biblical recommendation to put
candles on candlesticks. In the " convoi Munro "
I find them in bottles, on the lids of mustard-tins,
in metal cups, or in the necks of bedroom carafes.
Never is the wax removed. Vhere it drips there
it remains. Vhere matches fall there they lie.
The stulnps of cigarettes grace even the insides of
flower-pots, knives are wiped on bread, and over-
coats of enormous weight (khaki in colour, with a
red cross on the arm) are hung on ineflicient loose
halls, and fali down. Towels are always scarce;
but then, they serve as dinner-napkins, pocket-
handkerchiefs, and even as pillow-cases, so no
wonder we are a little short of them. There is no
necessity for muddle. There never is any necessity
for iL
The communal lire is a mistake. I wonder if
Christ got bored with it.
On Sundays I always want to rest, and solnething
always makes me write. The attaek cornes on
quite early. It is irresistible. At last I ara a little
happy after these dreary months, and it is only
beeause I ean think a little, and beeause the days
are hot quite so dark. I think the nights bave
been longer here than 1 ever knew them. No
doubt it is the bad weather and the small amount
of light indoors that make the days seem so short.
I ara going baek to-morrow to the station, with
its train-loads ofwounded men. I want to go, and

9 WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
to give them soup and comforts and cigarettes,
but just ten days' illness and idleness have " balmed
my soul."
22 February.--Vaited all day for a car to corne
and fetch me away. It was dull work as I could
never leave the fiat, and all my things were packed
up, and there was no coal.
23 February.--raited again all day. I got
very tired of standing by the window looking out
on a strip of beach at the bottom of the street, and
on the people passing to and fro. Then I went
down to the dock to try and get a car there, but
the new police regulations ruade it impossible to
cross the bridge. I went to the airmen opposite.
No luck.
There is a peculiar brutality which seems to
possess everyone out here duriag the var. I find
it nearly everywhere, and it entails a good deal of
unnecessary suffering. Always I ara reminded of
birds on a small ledge pushing each other into the
sea. The big bird that pushes another one over
goes to sleep comfortably.
I remember one evening at Dunkirk when ve
couldn't get rooms or food because the landlady of
the hotel had lost all ber servants. The staff at the
-- gave me a meal, but there was a queer want
of courtesy about it. I said that anything would
do for my supper, and I went to help get it myself.
I spied a roll of cold veal on a shelf, and said
helpfully that that would do splendidly, but the
answer was: "Yes, but I believe that is for our
next lneal." However, in the end I got a scrap,
consisting mostly of green stuffing.

LA PANNE 9g

"But when thou art bidden, go and sit down in
the lowest room "--ah, my dear Lord, in this world
one may certainly take the lowest place, and keep
it. Itis only the great men who say, " Friend,
corne up higher."
" You can't have it," is ou everyone's lips, and a
general sense of bustle goes with the brutality.
" You can't corne here,"" We won't have her," are
quite common phrases. God help us, how nasty
we ail are!
I find one tan score pretty heavily nowadays by
being a " psychologist." Ail the most disagreeable
people I know are psychologists, notably--, who
breaks his promises and throws all his fi-iends to
the wolves, but who eau still explain everything
in his sapient way by saying he is a psychologist.
One thing I hope---that no one will ever call me
"highly strung." I wish good old-.fashioned bad
temper was still the word for highly strung and
nervy people.
I am longing for beautiful things, music,
flowers, fine thoughts.. .
La Panne. 25 Febrtary.--At last I have
succeeded in getting away from Dunkirk! The
Duchess of Sutherland brought me here in her car.
Last night I dined with Mrs. Clitheroe. She was
less bustled than usual, and I enjoyed a chat with
her as we walked home through the cold white lnist
which enshrouded La Panne.
This long var has settled down to a long wait.
Little goes on except desultory shelling, with its
occasional quite useless victims. At the station we
bave mostly "malades" and "éclopés" ; in the

WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES

trenches the soldiers stand in the bitter cold, and
oceasionally are moved out by shells falling by
chance amongst them. The men who are capable
of big things wait and do nothing.
If it was hOt for the wounded how would one
stand the lire here ? A man looks up patiently,
dumbly, out of brown eyes, and one is able to go on
again.
La Panne. 27 Febraary.--I have been staying
for three nights at the Kursaal Hotel, but my room
was wanted and I had to turn out, so I packed my
things and came down to the Villa les Chrysan-
thèmes, and shared 5Ifs. Clitheroe's room for a
night. In the morning all out party packed up and
left to go to Fumes, and I took on these rooms.
I may be turned out any minute for " le militaire,"
but meanwhile I ara very comfortable.
The heroic element (a real thing among us)takes
queer forms sometimes. "No sheets, of course," is
what one hears on every side, and to eat a meal
standing and with dirty hands is to "play the
gaine." Maxine Elliott said, "The nervous ex-
haustion attendant upon discomfort hinders work,"
and she "does herself" very well. as also do all the
men of the regular forces. But volunteer corps--
especially women--are heroically bent on being
uncomfortable. In a way they like it, and they
eat strange meals in large quantities, and feel that

this is war.
Lord Leigh took me into Dunkirk in his
car to-day, and I managed to get lots of vege-
tables for the soup-kitchen, and several other
things I wanted. A lift is everything af this rime,

LA PANNE 95

when one can "command "nothing. If one might
for once feel that by paying a fare, however high,
one could ensure having something--a railway
journey, a motor-car, or even a bed! My work
isn't so heavy at the kitchen now, and the hours
are not so long, so I hope to do some work of a
literary nature.

"lb 3liss _]tIacnm«ghtan'« Sisters.
VILLA LES CHRYSANTHÈES»
LA PANNE, BELGIUM,
Sunday, 8 Februmy.
IY DEAR
It is so long since I wrote a deeently long
letter that I think I must write to you all, to thank
you for yours, and to give you what news there is
of myself.
Of war news there is none. The long war is
now a long wait, and the huge expense still goes
on, while we lock horns with our foes and just
sway backwards and forwards a little, and this, as
you know, we bave done for weeks past. Every
day at the station there is a little stream of men
with heads or limbs bandaged, and our work goes
on as before, although it is hot on quite the saine
lines now. I used to make every drop of the soup
myself, and give it out ail down the train. Now
we have a receiving-room for the wounded, where
they stay ail day, and we feed them four rimes, and
then they are sent away. The whole thing is more
military than it used to be, the result, I think, of
officers not having much to do, and with a passion
for writing out rules and regulations with a niee
broad pen. Two orderlies help in the kitchen, the

96 WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
soup is "inspected," and what used to be "la
cuisine de la dame écossaise" is hot so much a
charitable institution as it was.
Oae sees a good deal of that sort of thing during
this war. Women Imve been seeing what is
wanted, and have done the work themse]ves at
rea]ly enormous difl]culty, and in the face of
opposition, and when it is a going concern it is
taken over and, in many cases, the women are
turned out. This was the case ai Dunkirk station,
which was known everywhere as "the shambles."
I myself tried fo get the wounded attended to, and
I went there with a naval doctor, who told me that
he cou]dn't uncover a single wound because of the
awfu] atmosphere (if was quite common to see
15,000 men lying on straw). One woman took
this marrer in hand, purged the place, got mattresses,
clean straw, stores, etc., and when ail was in order
the voice of authority turned her out.
This long waiting is being mueh more trying for
people than aetual fighting. In every corps the
old heroic outlook is a little bit fogged by petty
things. One sees the result of it in some wrangling
and jealousy, but this will soon be forgotten when
fighting with all its realities begins again.
I think Britain on the subjeet of "piraey " is
about as fine as anything in her history. Her
determination to ignore ultimatums and threats is
really quite flnny, and English people still put out
in boats as they have always done, and are quite
undismayed. Out own people here continue to travel
by sea, as if submarines were rather a joke, and
when going over to England on some small and

MRS. PERCIVAL'S SLIPPERS 97

useless little job they say apologetically, "Of
course, I wouldn't go if I hadn't got to." The
faet is, if there is any danger about they have to
be in it.
Some of out own corps have gone baek to
Furnes--1 believe because it is being shelled. The
test of us are at l,a Panne, a eold seaside place
aluongst the dunes. In summer-time I fancy it is
fashionable, but now it eontains nothing but
soldiers. They are quartered everyvhere, and one
never knows how long one will be able to keep a
room. The station is at Adinkerke, where I have
my kitehen. It is about two nfiles from I,a
Panne, and it also is erammed with soldiers. ïhere
seems to be no attempt at sanitation anyvhere.
I wish I had more interesting news to tell you,
but I am at my station all day, and if there is
anything to hear (whieh I doubt) I do not hear it.
There is a barge on the canal at Adinkerke which
is our only excitement. It is the property of
Maxine Elliott, Lady Drogheda, and Miss Close,
and to go to tea with them is everyone's ambition.
The barge is crammed vith things for Belgian
refugees, and Maxine told me that the cargo
represents "nearer £10,000 than £5,000." It is
piled with flour in sacks, clothing, medical comforts,
etc. The work is good.
I am sending home some long pins like nails.
They are called " Silent Death," and are dropped
from German aeroplanes. Boys pick them up and
give them to us in exchange for cigarettes.
I want to tell Tabby how immensely pleased
everyone is with her slippers. The men who have

98 WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
stood long in the trenches are in agonies of frost-bite
and rheumatism, and now that I can give them
these slippers when they arrive at the station, they
are able to take of their wet boots caked with mud.
If J. would send me another little packet of
groceries I should love it. Just what can corne by
post. That Benger's Food of hers nearly saved
my lire when I was ill at Dunkirk. SVhat I should
like better than anything is a few good magazines
and books. I get Punch and the Spectator, but I
want the English Review and the 'tional, and
perhaps a Hibbert. I enelose ten shillings for
these. ¥hat is being read ? Stephen Coleridge
seems to have brought out an interesting eolleetion,
but I ean't remember its name. I wonder if any
notice will be taken of "They who Question."
The reviews speak well of the Canadian book.
Love to you all, and tell Alan how lnueh I
think of him. Bless you, my dears. Hrite offen.
Yours as ever,
SARAH.

1 March.--¥oe betide the person who owns
anything out here: he is instantly deprived of it.
" Pinehing" is proverbial, and people have taken
to earrying as many of their possessions as possible
on their person, with the result that they are the
strangest shapes and sizes. Still, one hopes the
goods are valuable until one diseovers that they
generally eonsist of the tbllowing items- a wateh
that doesn't go, a fountain-pen that is never filled,
an eleetfie toreh that won't light, a mueh-used
hanky, an empty iodine bottle, and a searf.

THIEVING AND GIVING 99

5 3lar«h.--I went as usual to-day fo the muddy
station and distributed soup, which 1 no longer
make now that the station has become militarised.
My hours are from 12 noon to 5 o'cloek. This
includes the men's dinner-hour and the washing of
the kitehen. They eat and smoke when I ara
there, and 1oll on the little bench. They are
Belgians and I ara English, ad one is always being
warned that the English can't be too carefld ! lre
are entertaining 0,000 Belgians in Enghmd, but it
must be donc "earefully."
It is a great bore out here that everything is
stolen. One tan hardly lay a thing down for an
instant that it isn't take. To-day my Ïhermos
flask in a leather case, in which I carry my lunch,
was prigged ri'oto the kitchen. Things like ruerai
cups are stolen by the score, and everyone begsl
Even well-to-do people are always asking for some-
thing, and they simply whine for tobacco. The
fact is, I think, the English are giving things away
with their usual generosity and want of discrimina-
tion, and--it is a horrid word--they are already
pauperising a nice lot of people. I can't help
thinking that the thing is being run on wrong
lines. We should bave given or lent what was
necessary to the Belgian Government, and let them
undertake to provide for soldiers and refigees
through the proper channels. No lasting good ever
came of gifts--every child begs ibr cigarettes, and
they begin smoking at rive years old.
I often think of our poor at home, and wish I
had a few sacks full of things for them [ I have
not myself eome across any instances of poverty
8

100 WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
nearly as bad as I have seen in England. I under-
stand f?om Dr. Joos and other Belgians who know
about these things that there is still a good deal of
money tucked away in this country. I hope there
is, and we ail want to help the Belgians over a bad
rime, but it would be better and more dignified for
them to get it through their own Government.
I had tea with Lady Bagot the other day, and
atterwards I had a chat with l'rince Francis at the
English Mission. Another afternoon I went down
to the Kursaal Hotel for tea. The stuffy sitting-
room there is always filled with knickerbockered,
leather-coated ladies and with officcrs in dark blue
uniform, who talk loudly and pat the barmaid's
cheeks. She seems to expect it; it is almost
etiquette. A cup of bad tea, some German trophies
examined and discussed, and then I came away
with a "British" longing for skirts for my ladies,
and for something graceful and (odious vord)
dainty about them. Yesterday evening Lady
Bagot dined with me. This Villa is the only
comfortable place I have been in since the war
began: it makes an amazing difference to my
health.
It is odd to have to admit that one bas hardly
ever been unhappy for a long rime before this war.
The year my brother died, the year one vent
through a tragedy, the year of deadly dullness in
the country--but now it isn't so much a personal
marrer. War and the sound of guns, and the sense
of destruction and death abroad, the solitude of it,
and the disappointing people! Oh, and the poor
woundedthe poor, smelly, dirty wounded, whom

THE POWER OF THE BIBLE 101

one sees ail day, and for whom one just sticks this
out.
! have only twice been tbr a drive out here, and
I have not seen a single place of interest, l,or,
indeed, a single interesting person connected with
the war. That. I suppose, is the result of being a
" cuisini5re r' • It is rather strange to ,ne, because
for a very long rime I always seem to have had the
best of things. To-day I hear of this General or
that Secrctary, or this great personage or that
important flmctionary, |rot the only people whom
I see are three little Sisters and two Belgian cooks.
To give up work seems to me a lit,le like
divorcing a husband. There is a feeling of failure
about it, and the sense that one is giving up what
one has undertaken to do. So, hovever dull or
tiresome husband or work may be, one mustn't give
them up.
6 lIarch.To-day I bave been thinking, as I
have often thought, that the real power of the
Bible is that it is a Universal H uman Document.
The world is based upon sentilnenti.e., the
personality of man and lais feelings brought to bear
upon facts. It is also the world's dynamic force.
Now, the books of the Bible--especially, perhaps,
the magical, beautiful Psalms--are the most tender
and sentilnental (the word has been misused, of
course) that were ever written. They express the
thoughts and feelings of generations of lnen who
always did express their thoughts and feelings, and
thought no shame of it. And so we northern
people, with our passionate inarticulateness, love to
find ourselves expressed in the old pages.

WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES

I find in the Gospels one of the few complaints
of Christ• " Have I beeu so long rime with you
and yet hast thou hot known me, Philip ?" Ail
one has ever felt is said for one in a phrase, all that
one finds most isolating in the world is put into
one sentence. Ïhere is a wan feeling of wonder in
it ; "so long," and yet you think that of me ! " so
long," and yet such absolute inability to read my
character ! " so long," and yet still quite unaware
of my message ! The humour of it (to us) lies in
the little side of it ! The dear people who "thought
you would like this or dislike that"--the kind
givers of presents even--the little people who shop
for one ! The fl'iends who invite one to their queer,
soulless, rhin entertainments, with their garish
lights ; the people who choose a book for oue, who
counsel one, even with importunity, to go to some
play which they are " sure ve shall like." " So
long"--they are old fl'iends, and yet they thought
we should like that play or that book ! "So long"
--and yet they think one capable of certain acts or
feelings which do not remotely seem to belong to
one ! "So long"--and yet they can't even touch
one chord that responds !
VVe are always quite alone. The commumd lire
is the loneliest of all, because " yet thou hast not
known me." The world comes next in loneliness,
but it is big, and with a big soul of its own. The
family lire is ahnost naïve in its misunderstanding
no one listens, they just wait for pauses. . .
• . The worship of the "sane mind" has been
a little overdone, I think. The men who are prone
to say of everyone that they "exaggerate a little,"

"THEWOMAN'S TOUCII " 108
or " are morbid," are like weights in a scale--just,
but oh, how heavyl . .
• This war is fine, fine, FINE I I know it, and
yet I don't get near the fineness except in the pages
of Puwh ! I see streams of men whose language
(Flemish) I don't speak, holding up protecting
hands to keep people ii-on jostling a poor wounded
limb, and I watch them sleeping heavily, or eating
oranges and smoking cigarettes down to the last
hot stump, but I don't hear of the heroic stands
which I know are made, o" catch the volitio of it
all. l'erhaps only in a voluntary army is such a
thing possible. Our own boys make one's heart
beat, but these poor, dumb, sodden little men,
coming in caked with mud--to be patched up and
sent iuto a hole in the ground again, are simply
tragic.
7 ]larc].--" The woman's touch." Vhen a
woman has been down on ber knees scrubbing for a
wcek, and washing for another week, a man, re-
turning and finding his bouse in order, and vaguely
conscious of a newer and iesher snell about it.
talks quite tenderly of "a woman's touch."
• . There are some people who never care to
enter a door unless it has " passage interdite" upon
it ....
• . The guns are booming heavily this morning.
Nothing seeins to correspond. Are nen really
falling and dying in agonies quite close to us ?
I believe we ought to see less or more--be nearer
the front or further from it. Or is it that nothing
really changes us? Only war pictures and war
letters remain as a fixed blazing standard. The

104

WORKING UNDER 1)IFFICULTIES

soldiers in the trenches are quite as keen about
sugar in their coffee as we are about tea. No
wonder men have decided that one day we must
put off flesh. It is far too obstrusive. .
• . To comfort myself I try to remember that
Wellington took his old nurse with him on ail his
campaigns because she was the only person who
washed his stocks properly. .
Surely the expense of the thing will one day
put a stop to var. We are spending two million
sterling per day, the French certainly as lnuch, the
Germans probably more, and Austria and Russia
much more, in order to keep lnen most uncomfbrt-
ably in unroofed graves, and to send high explosives
into the air, most of which don't hit anything.
Surely, if fighting was (as it is) impossible in this
flooded country in winter, we might have called a
truce and gone home for three months, and trained
and drilled like Christians on Salisbury Plain ! . .
Health--i.e., bad healthobtrudes itself
tiresomely.. I ara ill again, and, fbrtunately, few
people notice it, so I ara able to keep on. A
fstered hand makes me awkward ; and as I wind a
bandage round it and tie it with my teeth, I once
more wish I was a Belgian refugee, as I ara sure I
would be interesting, and would get things donc
for me I
A sick Belgian artist, M. Rotsarzt, is doing a
drawing of me. I go to Lady Bagot's hospital,
where he is laid up, and sit to him in the intervals
of soup. Ïhat little wooden hospital is the best
place I have known so far. Lady Bagot is never
bustled or fussy, nor even "busy," and her stafl" are

FRENCH MARINES 105

excellent men, with the "Mark of the Lamb " on
them.
I gave away a lot of things to-day to a regilnent
going into the trenches. The soldiers were de-
lighted with them.
11 21[arch.--Tbere was a lot of firing near
La Panne to-day, and a British warship was re-
peatedly shelled by the Germans from Nieuport.
I went into Dunkirk with M r. Clegg, and got the
usual hasty shopping doue. No one eau ever wait
a minute. If ()ne bas rime to buya newspaper one
is lucky. The difliculty of communicating with
anyone is great--uo telephoneuo letters--no
motor-ear. I ara stranded.
I generally go in the train to Adinkerke with
the French Marines, nice little /illows, with labels
attached to them stating their " case "--hot know-
ing where they are going or anything else--just
human lives battered about and carted off. i don't
even know where they get the little bit of money
which they always seem able to spend on loud-
smelling oranges and cigarettes. Ïhe place is
littered with orange-skins--to-day 1 saw a long
piece lying in the fbrm of an " S " amid the mud ;
and, like a story of a century old, I thought of
ourselves as children throwing orange-skins round
out heads and on to the floor to read the initial of
out future husband, and I seemed to hear mother
say, "' S' for Sammy--Sammy C- ," a boy with
thick legs whom we secretly despised !
I have round a whole new household of" éclopés "
at Adinkerke, who want cigarettes, socks, and shoes
ail the rime. They are a pitiful lot, with earache,

106

WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES

toothache, and all the minor complaints which I
myself find so trying, and they lie about on straw
till they are able to go back to the trenches again.
The pollard willows between here and Adinkerke
are ail being cut down to build trenches. They
were big with buds and the promise of spring.
l 3lar«h.--I went to the station yesterday, as
usual. Suddenly I couldn't stand it any more.
Everyone was cleaning. I was getting swept up
with straw and mopped up with dirty cloths. The
kitchen work was done. I are my hmch in a filthy
little out-building and then 1 fled. l had to get
into the open air, and 1 hopped on to an anabulance
and drove to Dunkirk. I had a good deal to do
there getting ,egetables, cigarettes, etc.. and we
got back late to the station, where I heard the
Queen had paid a visit. Rather bad luck on ahnost
the only day I have been away.
I ara waiting anxiously to hear if the report of
the new British advance yesterday is true. Vhen
fighting really begins we are going to be in for a
big thing; one dreads it for the sake of the boys
we are goiug to lose. I want things to start now
just to get them over, but I rather enry the people
who died before this unspeakable war began.

To 3Ifs. Keays- ] ou
C^E oF FW.L Post OFFiCe» DuNKI,
17 3larch.
MY DEAREST
I have (of course) becn gctting lcttcrs and
parccls vcry badly latcly. I am sending this home
by hand, which is not allowcd cxcept on Rcd Cross

CAPTAIN L. M. B. SALMON 107
business, but this is to ask how Lionel is, so I think
I may send it. My poor Ber ! What anxiety for
her! This spring weather is making me long to
be at home, and when people tell me the crocuses
are up in the park !--well, you know London and
the park belong to aile! Are the catkins out ? IVe
ean get flowers at Dunkirk, but hot here.
Nota word of war news, beeause that wouldn't
be fait. A shilling wire about Lionel would satisfy
me--just " Better, and Ber well," or something of
that sort.
Always, my dear,
Your loving,
S. ll ACNaU( HTaN.

P.S.--Your two letters and Bet's have just corne.
To be in touch with you again is ver!/pleasant. I
can't tell you what it vas like to sit down to a
pretty, clean breakfast to-day with my letters
beside me. Someone brought them here early.
I heard to-day that I ara going to be decorated
by the King of the Belgians, but don't spread this
broadcast, as anything might happel in var.

0 3iarch.--I met an Englishnau belonging to
an armoured car in Dunkirk a couple of days ago.
He told me that the last four days' fighting at La
Bassée has cost the British 13,000 casualties. Ïhree
lines of holes in the ground, and fighting Olfly just
beginning again ! Bet's fiancé has been shot through
the head, but is still alive. My God, the horror of
it ail I And England is still cheerful, I hear, and
is going to hold race-meetings as usual.

108 WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
At the station to-day I saw a mad man, who
fought and struggled. I thought madmen raved.
This one fought silently, like a man one sees in a
dream. Another soldier shook all over like an old
man. Many were blind.
" On the whole," someone said to me in England,
" I suppose you are having a good rime."
There is a snowstorm to-day, and it is bitterly
cold. Itis very odd how many small " complaints"
seem to attack one. I can't remember the day
out here when 1 felt xvell all over.
Last night some Belgians came in to dinner. It
was like old rimes trying to get things nice. I
had some flowers and a tablecloth. 1 believe in
making a contrast with the discomfort I see out
here. ¥e forced open a piano, and had some
perfect music.
21 March.--The weather is brighter to-day ; the
sound of firing is more distant; it is possible to think
of other things besides the war.
/Xlrs.- came to the station this morning. I
think she bas the most untidy mind I bave ever met
with.
¥ith all our faults, I often wish that there were
more 5iacnaughtans in the world. Their simple and
plain intelligence gives one something to work upon.
Mrs. -- came and told me to-day that last night
"they laughed till they cried " over ber attempt at
making a pudding. I should have cried, only, over
a woman of fifty who wasn't able to make a pudding.
She and  are twin nebuloe who think themselves
constellations.

LONGING FOR IIOME 109

To 2lliss Mary I(ing.
CARE OF FIELD POST OFFICE» I)UNK1RK»
oo_ 1[arc.
DEAR 3l ARY,
My plans, like those of everybody else, are
undecided beeause of the war. I fit is going to stop
in May I should like to stay till the end, but if it
is likely to go on for a long rime, I shall corne home.
I don't think hot soup (which is nly business) tan
he wanted mueh longer, as the warm weather will
be eoming.
I have been asked to take over full charge of a
hospital here. It is a great compliment, but 1 bave
almost decided to refuse. [ bave other duties, and
I have some important writing to do, as I ara busy
with a book on the war. I begin work as early as
ever, and then go to my kitchen.
Xhen I do eome home l want to be in ny own
house, and I ara longing to be baek. Many of my
iends go backwards and forwards to England all
the rime, but when i return, I should like to
stay.
I-ara in wonderfully comfortable rooms at
present, and the landlady is most kind and attentive.
She gives me a morning cup of tea, and the eare and
eomfort are making me much better. I get some
soup belote I go off to my station, alld last night I
was really a fine lady. When I came in tired, the
landlady, who is a Belgian, took off my boots for
me l
When I corne home I think l'll lie in bed all

110 WORKING UNDER DIFFICULTIES

day, and poor old Mary will get quite thin again
nursing me. The things you will have to do for
me, and all the pretty things I shall see and have,
are a great pleasure to think about I
Yours truly,
S. IAcNAUGHTAN.

CHAPTER V

THE SPRING OFFENSIVE

lilla lus Chrysanthèmc«, La l'a»nc.- i bave been
to I,ondon for a few days to sec about the publi-
cation of my little war 1)ook. I got frightful
neuralgia there, and find that as soon as I begin to
test I get iii.
I went to a daflbdil shov, and found myself in
the very hall where the military bazaar vas held
last year. I sav the place where the Velch had
their stall. What fun ve had I Hov many of the
regiment are left ? Only one offieer not killed or
wounded. Iord Roberts, who opened the bazaar,
is gone too. All the soldiers whom I knew best
have been taken, and only a few tough women
seem to weather the storm of life.
I had to see publishers in Iondon, raid do a lot
of business, and just when I was beginning to love
it all again my holiday vas over. There had been
heavy fighting out here, and I felt I must eome
baek. 51y dear people didn't want me to return,
and were very severe on the subjeet, and Mary
seolded me most of the rime. It was all affection
on their part, although it made "duty" rather a
eriminal affair !
111

11 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
There was endless difficulty about my passport
when I returned. The French Consulate was
besieged by people, and I had to go there at
8.30 a.m. and wait till the doors were opened, and
was then told I must first go to the Foreign Office
to get an order ff-oto Colonel Valker. I went
down to ¥hitehall ff-oto Bedford Square, and was
told I must get aletter ff'oin Mr. Coventry. I xvent
to Pall 51all and Mr. Coventry said it was quite
impossible to do anything for me without instruc-
tions fl'om Mr. Sawyer. Mr. Sawycr said the only
thing he could do (if' I could establish lny identity)
was to send me to a marron vho would make every
enquiry about me, and perhaps in three days 1
might get an Anglo-Freneh eertifieate, through
which Mr. Coventry might be indueed to give me
a letter to give to Colonel Valker, who might then
sign the passport, whieh 1 eould then take to
Bedford Square to be vise.
1 got Sir John Furley to identitz me, and then
began a dogged going t'rom place to place and
from offiei',fl to offieial till at last I got the thing
through. I felt just like a Russian being '" broken."
There is a regular system, 1 believe, in Russia of
wearing people out by this sort of official tyranny.
1 do not know anything lnore tiring or more
discouraging! I had all lny papers in order--my
pasport, my " laissez passer," a letter from Mr.
Bevan, explaining who I was and asking for "every
facility " for me, and my photograph, properly
stamped. I ara now so loaded with papers that I
feel as if 1 were CalTying a library about xvith me.
Oh, give me intelligent women to do things br

QUARRELLING 113
me I The best-run things I have seen since the
war began have been our women's unit at Antwerp
and Lady Bagot's hospital at Adinkerke.
I came back refreshed. I think everyone (every
woman) out here has noticed how indifferent and
really "nasty" people are to each other at the
front. Itis one of the singular things about the
war, beeause one always hears it said that it is
deepening people's eharaeters, purifying them, and
so on. As far as my experience goes, it bas showt
me the reverse. I have seldom known so much
quarrelling, and there is a sort of (lueer unhappiness
whieh has nothing to do with the actual war or loss
of friends. I ean't be mistaken about it, beeause I
see it on ail sides.
At the  hospital men and women alike are
quarrelling ail the rime. Resignations are frequent.
So-and-so has got So-aud-so turned out; someone
has written to the eolnmittee in London to report
on someone else; a nice doctor is dismissed.
Ev.ery nurse has given notice at different rimes.
Most people are hurt and sore about something.
Love seems quite at a diseount, and ole ean't help
wondering if Hate ean be infeetious! It is ail
frightfully disappointing, for surely one's heart beat
high when one ruade up one's mind to do what one
eould tbr suffering Belgium and for tbe sake of the
English naine.
Those two poor girls at -- I knov they
meant well, and hd high ideas of vhat they were
going to do. N ow they "use langwidge " to eaeh
other (although I know a very strong affeetion
binds them), and very, very strong that language is.

114 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
Poor souls, the people here aren't a bit happy.
I wonder if the work is sufficiently '" sanctified."
One never knows. Lady Bagot's is the happiest
and most serene place here; ber men are Church
Army people, and they have evening prayers in the
ward. It does make a difference.
Scandals also exist out here, but they are
merely silly, I think, and very unnecessary, though
a little conventionality wouldn't hurt anyoe.
Sometimes I think it would be better if we were
all at home, for Belgians are particular, and ! hate
breeches and gaiters for girls, and a silly way of
going on. 1 do wish people could sometimes leave
sex at hoirie, but they never seem to. I wonder if
Crusaders came back with scandals attached to
their names !
I got baek here in one of those rushes of work
that eome in war tilne when fighting is near. At
first no ear eould be spared to meet me at Boulogne,
so I had to wait at the H6tel Mauriee for two
or three days. I didn't mind mueh as I met sueh
a lot of English friends, and also visited some
interesting hospitals ; but I knew by the thousands
of wounded eoming in that things must be busy at
the front, and this ruade one ehalnp one's bit.
The Canadians and English who poured in ri-oin
Ypres were terribly damaged, and the asphyxiating
gas seelns to bave been silnply diabolieal. It was
awful to see human beings so lnangled, and I never
get one bit aeeustomed to it. The streets were
full of Bfitish soldiers, and the hospitals sxvarmed
with wounded. I went to visit the Casino one.
The bright sun streamed through lowered blinds on

DUNKIRK SHELLED 115
hundreds of bed, and on stretchers lying between
them. Many Canadians were there, and rows of
British. God ! how theywere knocked about ! The
vast rooms echoed to the cries of pain. The men
were vowing they could never face shells and hand
grenades any more. They were so newly wounded,
poor boys; but they corne up smiling whelt their
country calls again.
But it isn't rigkt.. This damage to human life is
horrible. It is madness to slaughter these thousands
of young men. Almost at last, in a rage, one
feels inclined to cry out against the sheer imbe-
cility of it. Why bring lives into the world and
shell them out of it with jagged pieces of iron,
and knives thrust through their quivering flesh ?
The pain of it is ail too much. 1 am sick with
seeing suffering.
On Thursday, April 29th, Mr. Cooper, and
another man came for us, and we leff Boulogne.
At Dunkirk we could hardly eredit out eyes--the
place had been shelled that very affernoon! I
never saw sueh a look of bewilderment and horror
as there was on all faces. No one had ever dreamed
that the place could be hit by a German gun, yet
here were houses falling as if by magie, and no one
knew for a moment where on earth or in heaven
the shells were eoming from. Some people said
they came from the sea, but the houses 1 saw hadn't
been hit from the sea, which lies north, but from
the east. Others talked of an armoured train, but
armoured trains don't earry 15-ineh shells. So all
anyone could do was to gape with sheer astonish-
ment.
9

116 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
Dunkirk, that safest of places, the haven to whieh
we were all to fly when Furnes or La Panne were
bombarded ! Everybody contradicted one, of course,
when one declared that no naval gun had been at
work, but the fact remains that a long-range field-
piece had been hidden at Leke, and Dunkirk was
shelled for three days, and, as far as I know, may
be shelled again. The inhabitants have all fled.
The shops are hot even shut ; one could help one-
self to anything ! The" état major" has left, and so
have all the officials: 28,000 tickets have been
taken at file railway station, and the road to Calais
s blocked with fleeing refugees.
It was rather odd that the day I left here and
passed through Fumes it was being shelled, and we
had to wait a little while before we could get
through ; and when I arrived at Dunkirk the bom-
bardlnent was just over, and a huge shell-hole
prevented us passing down a certain road.
Well, I got back to my work at Adinkerke in
the midst of the fighting, and reached it just as the
sun was setting. 'Vhat a scene at the station,
where I stopped belote reaching home to leave the
chairs and things I had bought for the hospital
there ! They were bringing in civilians wounded at
Ypres and Poperinghe, which place also has been
shelled (and yet we say we are advancing 1), and
there were natives also from Nieuport.
One whole ambulance was filled with wounded
children. I think King Herod himself might have
been sorry for them. Vee things in splits, or
with their curly heads bandaged ; tiny mites, look-
ing with wonder at their hands swathed in linen ;

WOUNDED WOMEN AND CHILDREN 117
babies with their tender flesh torn, and older children

erying with terror.
seated opposite each
ing with dolls, and
baby in a red hood

There were two tiny things
other on a big streteher play-
a little Christmas-card sort of
had had its mother and father

killed beside it. Another little mite belonged to
no one at all. Vho eould tell whether its parents
had been killed or hot ? I am afraid many of them
will never find their relations again. In the general
serimmage everyone gets lost. If this isn't fright-
fulness enough, God in heaven help us l
On the platforln xvas a row of women lying on
stretehers. They were deeent-looking brown-
haired marrons for the most part, and it looked
unnatural and ghastly to see theln lying there.
()ne big railway eompartment was slung with their
stretchers, and some young men in uniform nursed
the babies. I shall never forger that railway eom-
partment as long as I lire. A man in khaki
appeared, thoughtful, as out people always are, and
brought a box of groeeries with him, and sweet
biscuits for the children, and other things. Thank
Heaven for the English I
At the hospital it was really awful, and the
doetors were working in shiffs of twenty-four hours
at a rime.
I left my tables, ehairs, trays, etc., for the hospita]
at the station, and returned early the next day, for
numbers of wounded were still eonfing in. I wanted
slippers for everyone, but my Belgian helpers had
given a hundred pairs of mine away in my absence.
They were overworked a little, I think, so I over-
looked the faet that they lost their tempers rather

118 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
badly. Besides, I will hot quarrel. In a small
kitchen it would be too ridiculous. The three little
people fight among themselves, but I don't ïancy I
was ruade for that sort of thing.
There was nothing but work for some tilne. My
" éclopés" had been entirely neglected, and no one
had even bothered to buy vegetables for the men.
On Sunday, May 2nd, I went to see Dr. de Page's
hospital. I saw a baby three weeks old with both
his feet wounded. His mother came in one mass of
wounds, and died on the operating table--a young
mother, and a pretty one. A young man with
tears in his eyes lookcd at the baby, and then said,
"A jolly good shot at fifteen miles."
They can't help making jokes.
There were two Scots lying in a little room
both gunners, who had bcen hit at Nieuport. One,
Ochterlony froln Arbroath, had an eye shot away,
and some other wouuds ; the other, McDonald, had
seven bad injuries. Ochterlony talked a good deal
about his eyes, till McDonald rolled lais head
round on the pillow, and remarked briefly, " I'd
swop my stomach for your eyes."
Sunday wasn't such a nasty day as I usually
have--in fact, Sunday never is. But that station,
with its glaring hot platform, its hotter kitchen, and
its smells, takes a bit of sticking. I have discovered
one thing about Belgium. Everything smells
exactly alike. To-day there bave been presented
to my nose four different things purporting to have
different odours, drains, some cheese, tobacco, and
a bunch of lilac. There was no difference at ail in
the smells !

,VAR WEARINESS 119

I am mueh struek by the feeling of sheer xveari-
ness and disgust at the war xvhieh prevails at present.
People are "soul sick " of it. A man told me last
night that he longed tobe wounded so that he
might go home honourably. Amongst all the
vohmteer corps I notice the saine thing. "Fed
up" is the expression they ail use, fed up with the
suffering they sec, fed up even with red erosses and
khaki.
lVhen one thinks of primrose woods at home, and
birds singing, and apple-blossom against blue sky,
and the park with its flower-beds newly planted,
and the fresh-watered streets, and women in pretty
dresses--but one lnustn't !
6 ]/aj.Slrs. Guest arrived here to stay yester-
day, and her chauffeur, Mr. Vood, dined here. It
is niee tobe no longer quite aloe. Iast night we
were talking about how horrible war is. Mrs. Guest
told me of a sight she had herself seen. Some men,
horribly wounded, were being sent away by rail in
a eovered waggon ("fourgon"). One man had
only his mouth left in his face. He was raving
mad, and raged up and down the van, trampling on
other men's wounded and broken limbs.
Certainly war is a pretty gaine, and we must go
on singing " Tipperary," and saying what tire it is.
A young friend of naine at home gave me a pam-
phlet (price 2d.)written by a spinster friend of hers
who had never leff England, proving what a good
thing this war was for us ail. ,Vhen I said I saw
another aspect of it, the kind, soothing suggestion
was that I must be a little over-tired.
7 3/aj.They say La Panne is to be bombarded

10 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
to-day. The Queen bas left. Some people fussed
a good deal, but if one bothered one's poor head
about every rumour of this sort (mostly " dropped
from a German aeroplane") where would one
be .
I was much touehed when some people at home
clubbed together and sent me out a little car a
short rime ago. But, alas ! it had hOt been chosen
with judgment, and is no use. It bas been rather
a bother to me, and now it must go back. Mr.
Carlile drove it up from Dunkirk, and it broke
down six rimes, and then had tobe left in a ditch
while he got another car to tow it home. Since
then it has lain at the station.
I can't get anyone to corne and inspeet it. The
extraordinary habit which prevails here of saying
"No" to every request makes things difficult, for
no privileges can be bought. Sometimes, when I
hear people ask for the salt, I faney the answer will
be, "Certainly hOt." Two of our own chautTeurs
live quite close to the station: they say they are
busy, and can't look at my car. One smiles, and
says : " When you have rime I shall be so ga'ateful,
etc." Inwardly one is feeling that if one could roar
iust for once it would be a relief.
Sometimes at home I have felt a little embarrassed
by the love people have shown me--as if I have
somehow deceived them into thinking I was nicer
than I really ara. Out here I have to try to
remember that I have a few friends ! In London
I couldn't understand it when people praised me or
said kind things.
There is Olfly one straight tip for Belgium--have

MY CAl{ 11

a car, and understand it yourself. Never did I feel
so helpless without ont. But the roads are too
bad and too crowded to begin to learn to drive, and
there are difliculties about a garage.
Ïhis evening Mr. Wood and I went to Hoog-
stadt, and towed that «orpse--my car--up to La
Panne for  to inspect. The whole Belgiau army
seemed to gather round us as we proceedcd on out
toilsome journey, with breaking tow-ropes (for the
" corpse" is heavy) and defective steering-gear.
The,j were amused, • vas just craeking with fatigue.
Needless to say,  didn't corne. As the car was
a present I can't send it back without the authority
of a chaufl'eur. I f I keep it any longer they will say
1 used it and broke it..
There were some fearful bad cases at Hoogstadt
to-day, and we were touched to see an old man
sitting beside his unconscious son and keeping the
flics off hiln, while he sobbed in great gusts. One
Belgian oflicer told us that the hardest thing he
had to do in the war was to give the order to tire
on a German regiment which was advancing with
Belgian vonen and children in frot of it. lte
gave the order, and saw these helpless ereatures
shot down before his eyes.
At the Yser the other night two German regi-
ments got aeross the river and round themselves
surrounded. One regiment surrendered, and the
men of the other eoolly turned their guns on it and
shot their eomrades down.
Some of our eorps were evaeuating women and
ehildren the other day. One man, seeing his wife
and daughter stretehed out on the ground, went

122 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
mad, and tan up and down the tield screaming.
$¥e sec a lot of madness.
8 J'llay.--The guns sound rather near this morn-
ing, and the windows shake. One never kno,vs
what is happening till the wounded corne in. I
sat with my watch in my hand and counted the
sound of bursting shells. There were 32 in one
minute. The firing is continuous, and very loud,
and living men are under this tire at this moment,
"mown down," "viped out," as the horrible terms
go. I loathe even the sound of a bugle now. This
carnage is too horrible. If people can realise
let them corne near the guns.
They were shelling Furnes again when I was at
Steenkerke the other day, and it was a strange
sound to hear the shells whizzing over the peaceful
fields. One heard them coming, and they passed
overhead to fall on the old town. Under them
the brown cattle fed unhceding, and old women
hoed undisturbed, and the sinking sun threv long
shadows on the grass. And then a busy ambulance
would fly past on the road ; one caught a glimpse
of blood-covercd forms. " Yes, a few wounded,
and tvo or three killed."
Old women are the most courageous creatures
on this earth. Arhen everyone else has fled from a
place you can sec them sitting by their cottage
doors or hoeing turnips in the line of tire.
It was touching to see a little family of territied
ehildren sheltering with their mother in a roadside
Calvary when the shells were coming over. The
poor young mother was holding up her baby to
Christ on His cross.

THE CRUCIFIX UNDAMAGED 1

There is a marrer which seems almost more than
a coincidence, and one which has been too often
remarked tobe ignored, and that is. that in the
midst of ruins which are ahnost totally destroyed
the figure of Christ in some niche often remains
untouched. I have seen it myself, and many
writers have commented on the fact. Sometimes
itis only a crucifix on some humble wall, or it may
be a shrine in a church. The solitary figure remains
and stands--often with arms raised to bless. At
Neuve Chapelle one learns that, although the havoc
is like that wrought by an earthquake, and the very
dead have been uprooted there, a crucifix stands at
the cross-roads at the north end of the village, and
the pitififi Christ still stretches out His hands. At
His feet lie the dead bodies of young soldiers. At
Nieuport I noticed a shrine over a doorway in the
church standing peacefidly among the ruins, and
at Pervyse also one remained, until the tower reeled
and fell with an explosion from beneath, vhich was
deliberately ordered to prevent accidents from
falling masonry.
I had to go to Dunkirk this afternoon and while
I was there I heard that the Lusitania had been
torpedoed and sunk with 1,600 souls ou board her.
.Vhat change will this make in the situation ? ls
America any use to us except-in the matter of
supplies, and are we not getting these through as it
is ? A nation like that ought to have an army or
a navy.
Dunkirk was nearly deserted owing to the bom-
bardment, and it was difficult to find a shop open
to buy vegetables for my soup-kitchen. Still, I

1o4 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
enjoyed my afternoon. There was a chance that
shelling might begin again at any rime, and a bitter
wind blew up clouds of prickly dust and sand ; but
it was a g-eat relief tobe out in the open and axvay
fi'om smells, and to have one's xiew no longer
bounded by a line of rails. God help us ! What
a year this has been! It tires me even to think of
being happy agaiu, cheerfulness has become such an
effort.
10 l'Ia!].--I went to see my Scottish gunner at
the hospital to-day. He said, " 1 can't forger that
night," and burst out crying. " That night '" he had
been wotmded in seven places, and then had to
crawl to a "dug-out" by himself for shelter.
Strong healthy men lie inert in these hospitals.
Many of them have face and head wounds. I saw
one splendid young fellow, with a beautiful face,
and straight clear eyes of a sort of forget-me-not
blue. He won't be able to speak again, as his jaw
is shot away. The man next him xvas being fed
through the nose.
The matron told me to-day that last night a man
came in from Nieuport with the base of a shell
(" the bit they make into ash trays," she said) em-
bedded in him. His clothing had been carried in
with it. He died, of course.
One of our friends has been helping xvith stretcher
work, removing civilians. He was carrying away
a girl shot to pieces, and with her clothing in rags.
He took her head, and a young Belgian took her
feet, and the Belgian looked round and said quietly,
" This is my fiancée."
11 lcty.--To-day being madame's washiug day

THE " LUSITANIA" 15

--we ring the changes on the "nettoyage," "le
grand nettoyage," and " le lavage "--everything was
late. The newspaper came in, and was flfll of such
words as "horror," "resentment," " indignation,"
about the Lztsitania, but that won't give us back
our ship or our men. I wish we could do more
and say less, but the Press must talk, and always
does so " with its mouth." M. Rotsartz came to
breakfast. The guns had been going ail night long,
there was a sense of something in the air, and I
fretted against platitudes i Freneh and lnadame's
washing. At last I got away, and WClt to the sea
front, for the sound of bursting shells had become
tremendous.
It was a sort of British morning, with a fi'esh
British breeze blowing out own blessed waves, and
there, in its grey grandeur, stood of[ a British man-
of-var, blazing away at the toast. The Germans
answered by shells, which fell a bit wide, and mnst
have start]cd the fishes (but no one else) by the
splash they ruade. There were long, swift torpedo-
boats, with two great white wings of cloven foaln
at their bows, and a great flourish of it in their
wake, moving along under a canopy of their own
black slnoke. It was the smoke of good British
coal, from pits where grimy workmen dwell in the
black country, and British sweat bas to get it out
of the ground. Our grey lady was burning plenty
of it, and when she had done her work, she put up
a banner of smoke, and steamed away with a
splendid air of dignity across the white-flecked sea.
One knew the men on board her ! Probably not a
heart beat quicker by a second for all the Gerlnan

THE SPRING OFFENSIVE

shells, probably dinner was served as usual, and
men got their tubs and had their clothes brushed
when if was all over.
I went down to my kitchen a little late, but I
had seen something that Drake never saw--a bit of
modern sea-fighting. And in the evening, when I
returned, my grey mistress had corne back again.
The sun was westering now, and the sea had turned
to gold, and the grey lady looked black against the
glare, but the tire of her guns was brighter than the
evening sunset, and she was a spit-fire, after ail, tiTis
dignified queen, and she, " let 'em have it," too,
while the long, lean torpedo-boats looked on.
I went to the kitchen; I gave out jam, I dis-
tributed socks, I heard the fussy importance of
minor officiais, but I had something to work on
since I had seen the grey lady at work.
In the evening I dined quietly on the barge with
Miss Close and Maxine Elliott. We had a gaine of
bridge--a thing I had not seen for a year and more
(the last time I played was down in Surrey at the
Grange I), and the little gathering on the old
timbered barge was pleasant.
Some terrible stories of the war are coming
through from the front. An officer told us that
when they take a trench, the only thing which
describes what the place is like is strawberry jam.
Another said that in one trench the sides were
falling, and thê Germans used corpsês to makê a
wall, and kêpt them in with pilês fixed into the
ground. Hundreds of men rêmain unburied.
Some people say that the German gunners are
chained to their guns. There were six Germans at

GERMAN PRISONERS 17
the station to-day, two wounded and four prisoners.
Individually I always like them, and it is useless to
say I don't. They are all polite and grateful, and
I thought to-day, when the prisoners were sur-
rounded by a gaping crowd, that they bore them-
selves very well. After all, one can't expect a
whole nation of mad dogs. A Scotchman said,
"The ones opposite us (i.e., in the trenches) were a
very respectable lot of men."
The German prisoners' letters contain news that
battalions of British suffragettes have arrivcd at
the front, and they warn oflïcers hot to be captured
by these !
12 ,lay.--To-day, when I got to the station, I
was asked to remove an old couple vho sat there.
hand in hand, covered with blood. The old woman
had her arm blown off, and the man's hand was
badly injured. We took them to de Page's
hospital.
The firing has been continuous for the last few
days, and men coming in from Ypres and Dixmude
and Nieuport say that the losses on both sides bave
been enormous. There were four Belgian oflïcers
vho lived opposite my villa, whom one used to see
going in and out. Last night all were killed.
At Dixmude the other day the Duke of Vest-
minster went to the French bureau to get his
passport visé. The clerks were just leaving, but
he begged them to remain a minute or two and to
do his little busîness. They did so, and came to
the door to see him off, but a shell came hurtling
in and killed them both, and of a woman who stood
near there was literally nothing left,

128 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
Last night  and I were talking about the
gossip, vhich would fill ten unpublishable volumes
out here... 'Vhy do these people tome out to
the front . Give me men for war, and no one else
except nuns. Th.ings may be ail right, but the
Belgians are horrified, and I hate them to " say
things" of the English. The grim part of it is that
I don't believe I personally hear one hall of what
goes on and what is being said. They are afraid of
shocking me, I believe.
The craze for men baffles me. I see women,
dead tired, perk up and begin to be sparkling as
soon as a man appears; and when they are alone
they just seem to sink back into apathy and fatigue.
¥hy won't these rnad creatures stop at home ?
They are the exception, but war seems to bring
them out. It really is intolerable, and I hate it for
women's sake, and for England's.
The other day I heard some ladies having a
rather forced discussion on moral questions, loud
and frank. . . Shades of my modest ancestresses t
Is this war rime, and in a room filled with men and
smoke and drink, are women in knickerbockers dis-
cussing such things ? I know I have got to "let
out tucks," but surely hot quite so far !
Beautiful women and fast women should be
chained up. Let men meet their God with their
conscience elear. Most of them will be killed
before the war is over. Surely the least we ean do
is not to offer them temptation. Death and
destruction, and horror and wonderful heroism,
seem so near and so transeendent, and then, quite
close at hand, one finds evil doings.

A TREASURE 19

14 May.--I heard two little stories to-day, one
of a British soldier limping painfully through
Poperinghe with a horrid wound in his arm and
thigh.
"You seem badly wounded," a friend of mine
said to him.
"Yus," said the soldier ; "there were a German,
and he wounded me in three places, but "--he drew
fom under his arm a treasure, and his poor dirty
thce was transformed by a dclighted grin--" I got
his bloody hehnet."
Another story was of an English oflicer telephon-
ing from a church-tower. Ile gave all his directions
clearly and distinctly, and never even hinted that
the Germans had taken the town and were
approaching the church. Hejust went on talking,
till at last, as the tramp of footsteps somded on
the belfry stairs, he said, '" Don't take any notice of
any further information. I ara going." He went
--all the brave ones seem to go--atd those were the
last words he spoke.
Rhodes Moorhouse flexv loxv over the German lines
the other day, in order to bombard the German
station at Courtrai. He planed doqa to 300 feet,
and became the target for a hundred guns. In the
murderous tire he was xvounded, and lnight have
deseended, but he was determined not to let the
Germans have his maehine. He planed down to-
100 feet in order to gather speed. At this elevation
he was hit again, and mortally wounded, but
he flew on alone to the British lines--like a shot
bird heading for its own nest. He didn't even stop
at the first aerodrome he eame to, but sailed on--

130 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
always alone--to his base, ruade a good landing,
handed over his machine, and died.
In the hospitals what heroism one finds! One
splendid fellow of 6 feet 2 inches had both his legs
and both his arms amputated. He turned round to
the doctor and said, smiling, "I shan't bave to
complain of beds being too short now !" And when
someone came and sat with him in his deadly pain,
he remarked in his gentle way, " I ara afraid I ana
taking up all your rime." His old father and
mother arrived affer he was dead.
Ah l if one could hear more, surely one would do
more ! But this hole-and-corner way of doing war-
fare damps all enthusiasm and stifles recruiting.
SVhyare we allowed to know nothing until the news
is stale ? Yesterday I heard at first hand of the
treatment of some civilians by Germans, and I
visited a village to hear from the ]oeople themselves
what had happened.
My work isn't so heavy now, and, mueh as I
want to be here when the "forward movement"
cornes, I believe I ought to use the small
amount of kick I have left in inc to go to
give lectures on the war to men in ammunition
works at home. They all seem to be slaeking and
drinking, and I believe one might rouse them if
one went oneself, and told stories of heroism, and
tales of the front. The British authorities out
here seem to think I ought to go home and give
lectures at various centres, and I bave heard from
Vickers-Maxim's people that they want me to
corne.
I think l'Il arrive in London about the 1st of

TO MRS. FFOLLIOTT 181

June, as there is a good deal to arrange, and I have
fo sec heads of departments. One has to forger all
about parties in politics, and get help from I,loyd
George himself. I only hope the lectures may be
of some use.

To Mrs. olliott.
VILLA LES CHRYSANTHÈMES
LA PANNE, BELGIUM»
 6 Ma/.
DARLING OLD POOT,
One line, to wish you with all my heart
a happy birthday. I shan't tbrget you on thc 22nd.
¥ill you buy yourself some little thing with the
enclosed chcquc?
This war bccomcs a terrible strain. I don't
know what wc shall do whcn four ncphcws, a
brother-in-law, and a ncphew to be arc in thc field.
I gct quite sick with the loss of lire that is going
on ; thc wholc land sccms undcr thc shadow ofdcath.
I shall always think it an idiotic way of scttling
disputes to plug pieces of iron and stccl into
innocent boys and mcn. But thc bravcry is simply
wondcrful. I could tcll you storics which arc
alrnost unbclicvablc of British courage and fortitude.
I ara coming home soon to givc some lectures,
and thcn I hope to corne out here again.
Bless you, dcar Poot,
Your loving
SARaH.

17 May.I saw a most curious thing to-day.
A soldier in the Pavilion St. Vincent showed me
rive 5-franc pieces whieh he had had in his poeket
lO

15 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE
when he was shot. A piccc of shrapnel had bent
the wholc rive until thcy wcrc wclded togcther. The
shrapncl fittcd into thc silvcr cxactly, and actually
it was silvercd by thc scrapc it had madc against
the coin. I should like to havc had it, but the
man valued his souvenir, so one didn't like to of[er
him money for it.
A young Canadian round a comrade of his nailed
to a door, and stone dead, of course. ,Vhen did he
die ?
A Belgian doctor told Mrs. Vynne that in
looking through a German offlcer's knapsack he
found a quantity of children's hands--a pretty
souvenir ! I write these things down because they
must be known, and if I go home to lecture to
munition-workers I suppose I must tell them of
these barbarities.
Meanwhile, the German prisoners in England are
getting country houses placed at their service,
electric light, baths, etc., and they say girls are
allowed to come and play lawn tennis with them.
The ships where they are interned are costing us
£86,000 a month. Our own men imprisoned in
Germany are starved, and beaten, and spat upon.
They sleep on mouldy straw, have no sanitation, and
in winter weather their coats, and sometimes even
their tunics, were taken from them.
Fortunately, reprisais need hOt corne from us.
Talk to Zouaves and Turcos and the French. God
help Germany iïthey ever penetrate to the Rhine.
A young man--Mr. Shoppe--is occupied in
flying low over the gun that is bombarding Dunkirk
in order to take a photograph of it.

A HEAVENLY HOST 153
It seems to me a great deal to ask of young lcn
to give their lires whcn life must be so swcct, bwt
no one sccms to grudgc thcir all. Of some one
hears touching and splcndid stories; others, onc
kno,vs, die all alone, gasping out thcir last brcath
painfully, With no onc at hand to givc thcm cvc a
cup of watcr. No onc has a tale to tcll of them.
God, pcrhaps, hcard a last praycr or a last groan
bcfore Death came with its ncrciful hand ad put
an end to the intolcrablc pain.
How much can a an edure . A Frcnchman
at the Zouave Poste au Secours lookcd callnly on.
while the remains of his arm wcre cut away the
othcr night. Many opcrations arc pcrforlncd with-
out chloroform (bccause thcy takc a shorter tinc) at
the Frcnch hospital, •
I heard from R. to-day. I-Ie says thc story about
Mons is truc. The English wcrc rctrcating, and
Kluck was following hard aftcr thcm. He wircd
to the Kaiscr that he had "got thc English," but
this is what men say happcncd. A cloud canne out
of a clcar day and stood bctwccn thc two arlnics,
and in thc cloud mcn saw the chariots and horscs
of a heavenly host. Kluck turncd back from pursu-
ing, and thc English went on unharmcd.
This may be true, or it may be the rcsult of
men's fancy or of their imagination. But thcre is
one vision which no one caa dcny, and which cach
man who cares to look may sce for himsclf. It is
the vision of what lies bcyond sacrifice ; and in that
bright and heavcnly atmosphcre we shall sccwe
may, indccd, see to-daythc forms of thosc who
bave fallcn. Thcy fight still for England, unharmcd

154 THE SPRING OFFENSIVE

now and for ever more, warriors on the side of right,
captains of the host which no man can number,
champions of ail that we hold good. They are
marching on ahead, and we hope to follow ; and
when we ail meet, and the roll is called, we shall
find them still cheery, I think, still unwavering, and
answering to their good English names, which they
carried unstained through a score of fights, at what
price God and a few comrades know.

CHAPTER VI

LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS

19 3lay.--In order to get material for my lecture
to munition-workers I was very anxious to sec more
of the war for myself than is possible at a soup-
kitchen, and I asked at the British Mission if I
might be given permission to go into the British
lines. Major- il| giving me a fiat reflsal, was
a little pompous and important 1 thought, and he
said it was impossible to get near the British.
To-day I hmched on the barge with Miss Close,
and we took her car and drove to Poperinghe. I
hardly like to write this even in a diary, I ara so
selàom naughty! But I really dià solnething very
wrong for once. And the amusing part of it was
that military orders ruade going to Poperinghe so
impossible that no one lnolested us! Ve passed
all the sentries with a flourish of our green .papers,
and drove on to the typhoid hospital with only a few
Tommies gaping at us.
1 was amazed at the pleasure that wrong-doing
gives, and regretted my desperately strict past life !
Oh, the freedom of that day in the open air ! the
joy of seeing trees after looking at one wretehed line
of rails for nine monthsl Lilacs were abloom in

135

16 LAST DAYS IN FLAND]RS

every garden, and buttercups made the fields look
yellow. The air was misty--one could hardly have
gone to Poperinghe except in a mist, as it was being
so constantly shelled--but in the mist the trees had
a queer light on them which ruade the early green
look a deeper and stronger colour than I have ever
seen it. Ïhere appeared to be a sort of glare under
the mist, and the fresh vet landseape, with its top-
heavy sky, radiated with some light of its own.
Oh, the intoxication of that damp, vet drive, vith a
fine tain in out faces, and the car bounding under us
on the "pavé "! If I ana interned till the end of the
war I don't tare a bit! I have had some fresh air,
and I have been away for one vhole day from the
smell of soup and drains.
How deseribe it all? The dear sense of guilt first,
and then the still dearer British soldiers, all readv
with some cheery, cheeky remark as they sat in
carts under the wet trees. They were our brethren
--blue-eyed and fair-haired, and with their old
ehunsy ways, which one seemed to be seeing plainly
for the first rime, or, rather, reeognising for the first
rime'. It vas all part of England, and a day out.
The offieers vere taking exercise, of course, with
dogs, and in the rain. We are never less than
English ! To-morrow we may be killed, but to-day
we will put on thick boots, and take the dogs for a
run in the tain.
Poperinghe was deserted, of course. Its busy
cobbled streets were quite empty except for a few
strolling soldiers in khaki, and just here and there
the saine toothless old woman who is alvays the last
to lea»'e a doomed city. At the typhoid hospital we

AT POPERINGHE 137

gravely offered the cases of milk which we had
brought with us as an earnest of our good conduct,
but even the hospital was nearly empty. However, a
secretary offered us a cup of tea, and in the dining-
room we found Madame van den Steen, who had just
returned to take up her noble work again. She
was at Dinant, at her own château, when war broke
out, and she was most interesting, and able to tell
me things at first hand. The German methods
are pretty well known now, but she told me a great
deal which only women talking together could
discuss. When a village or town was taken, the
women inhabitants were quite at the merey of the
Germans.
Continuing, Madame van den Steen said that all
the filthiness that could be thought of was committed
--the furniture, cupboards, flowerpots, and even
bridge-tables, being sullied by these brutes. Children
had their hands eut off, and one woman, at least,
at Dinant was crueified. One's pen won't write
more. The horrors upset one too much. All the
babies born about that rime died; their mothers
had been so shocked and frightened..
Of Ypres Madame said, " It smells of lilac and
death." Some Englishmen were looking for the
body of a comrade there, and failed to find it
amongst the ruins of the burning and devastated
town. By seeming chance they opened the door of
a house which still stood, and round in a room
within an old man of eighty-six, sitting placidly in
a chair. He said, " How do you do ?" and bade
them be seated, and when they exclaimed, aghast
at his being still in Ypres, he replied that he was

158 LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS
paralysed and couldn't move, but that he knew God
would send someone to take him away; and he
smiled gently at them, and was taken away in thcir
ambulance.
Madame gave me a shell-case, and asked Mr.
Thompson if he would bring in his large piece to
show us. He wheeled it across the hall, as no one
could lift it, and this was only the base of a 15-inch
shell. It was picked up in the garden of the hospital,
and had travelled fifteen mlles !
The other day I went to see for myself some of
the poor rcfugees at Coxide. There were twenty-five
people in one small cottage. Some wcre sleeping
in a cart. One weeping woman, wearing the little
black woollen cap which all the women wear, told
me that she and her family had to fly ri'oto their
little farm at Lombacrtzyde because it vas being
shelled by the Germans, but aftcrwards, when
all seemed quiet, they went back to their home to
save the cows. Alas, the Germans werc there!
They madc this woman (who was expecting a
baby) and all her family stand in a row, and one
girl of twety, thc eldest daughter, was shot before
their eyes. When thc poor mother begged for the
body of her child it was refused her.
The Times list of atrocities is too frightful, and
all the evidence has been sifted and proved
bc true.
20 Jlay.--Yesterday I arranged with lIajor du
Pont about leaving the station to go home and
give lectures in England. Then I had a good deal
to do, so I abandoned my plan of visiting refugees
with Etta Close, and stayed on at the station. At

SOCKS 189

5.30 I came back to La Panne to see Countess de
Caraman Chimay, the dame d'hon:neur of the Queen
of the Belgians; then I vent on to dine with
the nurses at the "Ocean." tlere 1 heard that
Adinkerke, which I had just left, was being shelled.
Fortunately, the station being there, I hope the
inhabitants got away; but it was unpleasant to
hear the sound of guns so near. I knew the three
Belgian Sisters would be ail right, as they have
a good cellar at their house, and I could trust Lady
Bagot's staff to look after her. Ail the saine,
it was a horrible night, full of anxiety, and there
seems little doubt that La Panne will be shelled
any day. My one wish is--let's all behave well.
I watched the sunset over the sea, and longed to
be in England ; but, naturally, one means to stick
it, and hot leave at a nasty rime.
21 May.--Yesterday, at the station, there was a
poor fellow lying on a stretcher, battered and
wounded, as they ail are, an eye gone, and a foot
bandaged. His toes were exposed, and I went and
got him rather a gay pair of socks to pull on over
his "pansement." He gave me a twinkle out of
his remaining eye, and said, " Madame, in those
socks I could take Constantinople !"
The work is slack for the moment, but a great
attack is expected at Nieuport, and they say the
Kaiser is behind the lines there. His presence
hasn't brought luck so far, and I hope it won't this
time.
I went to tea with Miss Close on the barge, and
afterwards ve picked up 51. de la Haye, and went
to sec an old farm, which filled me with joy. The

140 LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS
buildings here, except at the larger towns, are not
interesting or beautiful, but this lorely old house
was evidently once a summer palace of the bishops
(perhaps of Bruges). It is called "Beau Garde,"
and lies off the Coxide road. One enters what
must once bave been a splendid courtyard, but it is
now filled indiscriminately with soldiers and pigs.
The chapel still stands, with the Bishops' Arms on
the vall ; and there are Spanish windows in the old
house, and a curious dog-kennel built in¢o the wall.
Over the gateway some massive beams hare been
roughly painted in dark blue, and these, covered in
ivy, and with the old dim-toned bricks above, make
a scheme of colour which is simply enchanting.
Some wind-torn trees and the sand-dunes, piled in
miniature mountains, form a delicious background
to the old place.
I also went with Etta Close to visit some of the
refugees for whom she has done so much, and in
the sweet spring sunshine I took a little walk in
the fields with M. de la Haye, so altogether it was
a real nice day. There were so few wounded that
I was able to have a chat with each of them, and
the poor " éclopés" were happy gambling for
ha'pente in the garden of the St. Vincent.
In the evening I went up to the Kursaal to dine
with Mrs. Vynne. Our two new warriors who
have corne out with ambulances have stood this
absolutely quiet rime for three days, and are now
leaving because it is too dangerous ! The shells at
Adinkerke never came near them, as they were
deputed to drive to Nieuport only. (N.B.Mrs.

SUNDAY 141

Wynne continues to drive there every nightl)
Eight men of our corps have funked, no women.
I am going to take a week's rest before going
home, in the hope that I won't arrive looking as
ill as I usually do. I hardly know how to celebrate
my holiday, as it is the first rime sinee I came out
here that I haven't gone to the station except on
Sundays.
23 .May, Sunday.--I went to Morning Service
at the " Ocean" to-day, then walked back with
Prince Alexander. In the evening we drove to
the Hoogstadt hospital. The King of the Belgians
was just saying good-bye to the staff, after paying a
surprise visit. He has a splendid face, and the
simplicity of his plain dark uniform makes the
strength and goodness of it all the more striking.
As I was waiting at the hospital the Germans
began firing at a little village a mlle off. It is
always strange to hear the shells whizzing over the
fields. We drove out to see the Yser and the
floods, which have protected us all the vinter.
Vith glasses one could have seen the German
lines.
Spring is coming late, and with a marvel of
green. A wind blows in from the sea, and the
lilacs nod from over the hedge. The tender corn
rustles its soft little chimes, and all across it the
wind sends arpeggio chords of delicate music, like
a harp played on silver strings. A great big horse-
chestnut tree, carrying its flowers proudly like a
bouquet, showers the road with petals, and the shy
hedges put up a screen all laced and decorated
with white may. It just seems as if Mother Earth

14 LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS
had become young again, and was tossing her
babies up to the summer sky, and the wind played
hide-and-seek, or peep-bo, or some other ridiculous
game, with them, and ruade the summer babies as
glad and as mischievous as himself. Only the guns
boom all the rime, and my poor little French
Marines, who drink far too much, and have the
manners of princes, come in on ambulances in the
evening, or at the "poste" a hole is dug for them
in the ground, and they are laid down gently in
their dirty coats.
Mother Earth, with her new-born babies, stops
laughing for a moment, and says to me, " It's ail
right, my dear; they have to corne back to me, as
ail my ehildren and ail their works must do. Vhy
make any complaint . For a rime they are happy,
playing and building their little castles, and making
their little books, and weaving stories and wreaths
of flowers ; but the stories, the castles, the flowers
I gave them, and they themselves, ail corne back to
me at last--the leaves next autumn, and the boy
you love perhaps to-morrow."
Oh, Father God, Mother Earth, as it was in the
beginning will it be in the end ? Vill you gi'e us
and them a good rime again, and will the spring
burst into singing in some other country . I don't
know. I don't know.
Only I do know this--I am sure of it now for the
first rime, and it is worth vhile spending a long, long
winter within the sound of guns in order to know
it--that death brings release, hot release from mere
suffering or pain, but in some strange and unknown
way it brings freedom. Soldiers realise it: they

SOUVENIRS 145
bave been more terrified than their own mothers
will ever know, and their 'ery spines bave melted
under the shrieking sound of shells, and then conles
the day when they "don't mind." Death stalks
just as near as ever, but his face is suddenly quite
kind. A stray bullet or a piece of shell may corne,
but what does it marrer . This is the day when
the soldier learns to stroll when the shrapnel is
falling, and to look up and laugh when the
murderous bullet pings close by.
Vrar souvenirs [ There are heaps of them, and
I hate them all; pieces of jagged shell, hehnets
vith bullets through theln, pieces of burnt
aeroplanes, scraps of clothing rent by a bayonet.
'esterday, at the station, I saw a sick Zouavc
nursing a German summer casquette. He said
quietly, being very sick: "The burgomaster chez
moi wanted one. Yes, I had to kill a German
officer for it-ce n'est rien de quoi--I got a ball in
my leg too, mais mon burgomaster sera très content
d'avoir une casquette d'un hoche." Our own men
leave their trenches and go out into the open to get
these horrible things, with their battered exterior
and the suggestion of pomade inside.
Yesterday, by chance, I vent to the " Ierlinck"
to sec Mr. Clegg. I met Mr. Hubert Valter,
lately arrived from England, and asked him to
dine, so both he and Mr. Clegg came, and Madame
van der Gienst. It was so like England to talk to
Mr. ¥alter again, and to learn news of everyone,
and we actually sat up till 10.30, and had a great
pOVr-VrOVr.
Mr. Walter attaches great importance to the

1 LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS
fact that the Germans are courageous in victory,
but their spirits go down at once under defeat, and
he thinks that even one decisive defeat would do
wonders in the way of bringing the war to an end.
The Russians are preparing ibr a winter campaign.
I look at all my " woollies," and wonder if I had
better save some for 1916. Vhat new horrors will
have been invented by that rime ? I hear the
Germans are throwing vitriol nowl In their
results I hate hand grenades more than anything.
The poor burnt faces which have been wounded by
them are hardly human sometimes, and in their
bandages they bave a suggestion of something
tragically grotesque.
26 lay.--We had a great day--rather, a glorious
day--at the station yesterday. In the morning I
heard that "les anglais" were arriving there, and,
although the news was a little startling, I couldn't
go early to Adinkerke because I felt so seedy.
However, I got off at last in a "camion," and
when I arrived I round the little station hospital
and salle and Lady Bagot's hospital crowded with
men in khaki.
We don't know yet all that it means. The
fighting bas been tierce and awful at Vpres. _Are
the hospitals at the base all crowded  Is there
no more room for our raen ? What numbers of
them have fallen ? Who is killed, and who is
left .
Ail questions are idle for the moment. Only I
have a postcard to say that Colin is at the front, so
I suppose until the war is over I shall go on being
ver T sick with anxiety. At night I say to myself,

GAS-POISONING 15

as the guns boom on, " Is he lying out in the open
with a bullet through his heart ?" and in the
morning I say, " Is he sale in hospital, and
wounded, or is he still with his men, making them
follow him (in the way he has) wherever he likes to
lead them ?" God knows, and the Var Office, and
neither tells us much.
The men at the station were nearly all cases of
asphyxiation by gas. U nless one had actually
seen the immediate results one could hardly have
credited it. In a day or two the soldiers may leave
off twitching and shuddering as they breathe, and
may be able to draw a breath fairly, but an hour or
two after they bave inhaled the deadly German gas
is an awful rime to see one's men. Most of them
yesterday were in bed, but a few sat on canvas
chairs round the empty stove in the salle, and all
slept, even those in deadly pain. Sleep cornes to
these tired soldiers like a death. They succumb to
it. They are diflïcult to rouse. They are oblivious,
and want nothing else. They are able to sleep
anywhere and in any position, but even in sleep
they twitch and shudder, and their sides heave like
those of spent horses.
I t struck me very forcibly that what was
immediately wanted vas a long draught for each of
them of some clean, simple stimulant. I went and
bought them red wine, and I could see that this
seemed to do good, and I went to the barge and
got bottles of whisky and a quantity of distilled
water, and we dosed the men. It seemed to do
them a wonderful lot of good, and in some way
acted as an antidote to the poison. Also. it pulled

16LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS
them together, and they got some quieter sleep
afterwards.
Towards the afernoon, indeed, all but one Irish-
man seemed to be better, and then xve began to be
eheery, and the seene at the station took eolour
and beeame intensely alive. The khaki-elad forms
roused themselves, and (of course) wanted a wash.
lso, they sat on their beds and produeed poeket-
eombs, and ran them through their hair. In
their dirt and rags these poor battered, breathless
men began to try to be smart again. I t was a
tragedy and a comedy all in one. A Highlander,
in a shrunk kilt and with long bare legs. had his
head bound about with bandages till it looked like
a great melon, and Iris sleeve dangled empty from
his great-coat. Others of the Seaforths, and mere
boys of the Highland Territorials, vore khaki shirts
over their tartan, and these were bullet-torn and
hanging in great rents. And some boys still wore
their caps with the wee dambrod pattern jauntily,
and some had no caps to wear, and some were all
daubed about vith white bandages stained crimson,
and none had hose, and few had brogues. They
had breathed poison and received shrapnel, and
none of them had slept since Sunday night. They
had had an "awful doing," and no one knew how
the battle at Ypres had gone, but these were meu
yetmwalking upright when they could, always
civil, undismayed, intelligent, and about as like
giving in as a piece of granite.
Only the young Scottish boys--the children of
seventeen who had sworn in as nineteen--were
longing for Loch Lomond's side and the falls of

A GARDEN-PARTY 147

Inversnaid. I believe the Loch l,omond lads
believed that the white burn that falls over the
roeks near the pier has no rival (although they
have heard of Niagara and the Victoria Falls), and
it's " oor glen " and " oor country " wi' them ail.
And one boy wanted his mother badly, and said
so. But oh, hov ready they were to be eheeryl
how they enjoyed their day ! And, indeed, we did
our best for them.
Lady Bagot's hospital was full, and we ealled it
her garden-party when we ail had tea in the open
air there. VCe fed them, we got them handker-
ehiefs, out good du Pont got them tubs, the eook
heaped more eoal on the tire, although it was very
hot, and ruade soup in buekets, and then began
a eurious stage seene whieh I shall never forget.
It was on the platform of the station. A hand
appeared from somewhere, and, out of colnpliment
to the English, played "God Save the King." Ail
the dirty bandaged men stood at attention. As
they did so an armoured train backed slowly into
the station and an aeroplane swooped overhead.
At Drury Lane one would have said that the
staging had been overdone, that the clothes were
too ragged, the men too gaunt and too much
wounded, and that by no stretch of imagination
eould a band be playing " God save the King "
while a square painted train called "Lou-lou"
steamed in, looking like a child's giant gaudy toy,
and an aeroplane fussed overhead.
Everyone had stories to tell, but I think the best
of them coneerns the arrival of the wounded last
night. Ail the beds in Lady Bagot's little hospital
11

148

LAST DAYS IN FLANDER

were full, and the Belgians who occupied them
insisted on getting up and giving their places fo
the English. They lay on the floor or stood on
their feet all night, and someone told me that even
very sick men leapt from their beds to give them to
their Allies.
God help us, what a mixture it all isl Here
were men talking of the very sotad of bayonets on
human flesh; here were men hot only asphyxiated
by gas, but blinded by the pepper that the Germans
mix with it; and here were men determined to
give no quarter--yet they were babbling of Loch
Lomond's side and their mothers, and fighting as
to who should give up their beds to each other.
Of course the day ended with the exchange of
souvenirs, and the soldiers pulled buttons off their
coats and badges out of their caps. And when it
was all over, every mother's son of them rolled
round and went to sleep. Most of them, I thought,
had a curious air of innocence about them as they
slept.
27 May.--I took a great bundle of newspapers
and magazines to the "Jellicoe" men to-day.
English current literature isn't a waste out here,
and I often wonder why people don't buy more.
They all fall upon my tableful, and generally bear
away much of it.
The war news, even in the ever optimistic English
press, is hot good, but not nearly as bad as what
seems to me the real condition of affairs. The
shortage of high explosives is very great. At
Nieuport yesterday Mrs. Wynne said to a French
officer, "Things seem quiet here to-day," at which

SLACKERS IN GLASGOW 149
he laughed, and said, " I suppose even Germans
will stop firing when they know you have no
ammunition."
In France the armament works are going night
and day, and the men work in shifts of 28 hours--
even the women only get one day off in a week--
while in Glasgow the men are sticking out for strict
labour conditions, and are "slacking" from Friday
night till late on Tuesday morning, and then
demanding extra pay for overtime. And this in
itce of the bare facts that since ()ctober the Allies
have lost ground in Russia ; in Belgium they remain
as they were; and in France they bave advauced a
fev kilometres. At Ypres the Germans are uow
within a toile of us, and the losses there are terriblc.
SVhom shall we ever see again ?
Men corne out to die now, hot to fight. One
order from a sergeant was, " You've got to take
that trench. You can't do it. (et on !"
A captain was heard saying to a gunner subaltern;
"We must go back and get that gun." The
subaltern said, « SVe shall be killed, but it doesn't
matter." The captain echoed heavily, " No, it
doesn't marrer," and they went back.
Sir William Ramsay, speaking about the war,
says that hall the adult male population of Europe
will be killed before it is over. Those who are left
will be the feeble ones, the slackers, the unfit, and
the cowards. It is good to be left to breed from
such stock I
It is odd to me how confusing is the want of
difference that has corne to pass between the living
and the hot living. Cottages and little towns seem

150 LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS
tobe part of nature. One regrets their destruction
almost as one regrets the loss of life. They have a
tragic look, with their dishevelled windows and
stripped roofs and skeleton frames. Lire has
become so cheap that cottages seem almost as
valuable. "It doesn't matter"--nothing matters.
I rathe» dread going back to London, because
there things may begin to seem important and one
will be in bondage again. Here our men are going
to their death laughing because it doesn't marrer.
There is a proud humility about my countrymen
which few people have yet realised. Itis the out-
corne of nursery days and public schools. No one
is allowed to think much of himsdf in either place,
so when he dies, " It doesn't marrer."
God help the boys! If they only knew how
much it mattered to us ! Life is ox-er for them.
We don't even know for certain that they will lire
again. But their spirit, as I know it, can never
die. I am not sure about the survival of person-
ality. I eare, but I do not know. But I do know
that by these simple, glorious, uncomplaining
deaths, some higher, purer, more splendid place is
reached, some release is round from the heavy
weight of foolish, sticky, burdensome, contemptible
things. These heroes do " fise," and we " fise"
with them. Could Christ himself desire a better
resurrection ?
28 3.lay.--I ara busy getting things prepared for
going home--my lecture, two articles, etc. I did
hot go to the station to-day, but worked till
8 o'cloek, and then walked over to St. Idesbald.
How I wish I could have been out-of-doors more

LARKS 151

ince I came here. If is suc|l a wonderful country,
ail sky. No wonder there are painters in Belgium.
During the winter it was too wet to sec much, and
I was always in the kitchen, but now I could kiss
the very ground with the little roses on it amongst
the Dunes. Larks sing at St. ldesbald, and
nightingales. olne fine night I nlean to walk out
there and listeu.
29 May.--To-day, according to promise, Mr.
Bevan took me into Nieuport. It was very difficult
to get permission to go there, but M r. Bewm got
it from the British Mission on the plea that 1 was
going to give lectures at home.
"The worst of going to Nieuport," said Major
Tyrell, "is that you won't be likely fo sec home
again."
Mr. Bevan called at 10 o'clock with the faithflfl
MaeEwan, and we went first to the Cabour hospital,
which I always like so much, and where the large
pleasure-grounds make things healthy and quiet for
the patients. Then we had a tyre out of order, so
had to go on to Dunkirk, where I met Mr. Sarrel
and his friend 5Ir. HansonVice-Consul at Con-
stantinopleand they lunched with us while the
car was being doetored.
At last we started towards Nieuport, but before
we got there we found a motor-ear in a ditch, and
its owner with a eut on his head and his arm broken,
so we had to pick him i up and take him to Coxide.
It was a elear, bright day, with ail the trees swishing
the sky, and 51r. Bevan and MaeEwan did nothing
all the rime but tell me how dangerous it was, and
they pointed out every place on the road where

lli2 LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS
they had picked up dead men or found people
blown to pieces. This was lively for me, and the
mnusing part of it was that I think they did it ri-oto
a belated sense of responsibility.
It is as difficult to find words to describe
Nieuport as it is to talk of metaphysics in slang.
The words don't seem invented that will convey
that haunting sense of desolation, that supreme
quiet under the shock of continually firing guns.
Hardly anything is left now of the little homely
bits that, when I saw the place last autumn,
reminded one that this was once a city of living
human beings. Then one saw a few interiors--
exposed, it is true, and damaged, but still of this
world. Now it is one big grave, the grave of a
city, and the grave of many of its inhabitants.
Here, ata corner house, nine ladies lie under the
piled«p débris that once made their home. There
some soldiers met their death, and some crumbling
bricks are heaped over them too. The houses are
all fallen--some outer walls remain, but I hardly
saw a roof left--and everywhere there are empty
window-ïrames and skeleton rafters.
I never knew so surely that a tovn tan lire and
tan die, and "it set one wondering whether Lire
means a thing as a whole and Death simply disin-
tegration. A perfect crystal, chemists tell us. has
the elements of lire in it and may be said to live.
Destruction and decay mean death ; separation and
disintegration mean death. In this way we die, a
crystal dies, a flower or a city dies. Nieuport is
dead. There isn't a heart-beat left to throb in it.
Thousands and thousands of shells have fallen into

NIEUPORT 158
it, and at night the nightingale sings there, and by
day the river flows gently under the ruined bridge.
Every tree in a wood near by is torn and beheaded ;
hardly one has the top remaining. The new grcen
pushes out amongst the blackened trunks.
One speaks low in Nieuport, the place is so
horribly dead.
Mr. Bevan showed me a shell-hole 42 feet across,
made by one single "soixante-quinze " shell.
Every field is pitted with holes, and where there
are stretches of pale-coloured mud the round pits
dotted all over it give one the impression of an
immense Gruyère cheese. The streets, heaped
with débris, and vith houses fallen helplessly for-
ward into their midst, were full of sunshine. From
ruined cottages--whose insecure walls tottered--
one saw here and there some Zouaves or a little
French "lnarin " appear. Most of these ran out
with letters in their hands for us to post. Heaven
knows what they can have to write about from
that grave [
Some beautiful pillars of the cathedral still stand.
and the tower, full of holes, has not yet bent its
head. Lieutenant Shoppe, R.N., sits up there all
day, and takes observations, with the shells knock-
ing gaily against the walls. One day the tower
will fall or its stones will be pierced, and then Lieu-
tenant Shoppe, R.N., will be killed, as the Belgian
" observateur" was killed at Oostkerke the other
day. He still hangs there across a beam for ail the
world to see. His arms are stretched out, and his
body lies head downwards, and no one tan go near
the dead Belgian becaue the tower i too unsafe

15 LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS
now. One day perhaps it will fall altogether and
bury him.
Meanwhile, in the tower of the ruined cathedral
at Nieuport Shopi)e sits in his shirt-sleeves, with his
telephone besid¢ him and his observation instru-
ments. His small staff are with him. They are
immensely interested in the range of a gun and the
accuracy of a hit. I believe they do not think of
anything else. No doubt the tower shakes a great
deal when a shell hits it, and no doubt the number
of holes in its sides is daily becoming more
numerous. Each morning that Shoppe leaves
home to si)end his day in the tower he runs an
excellent chance of being killed, and in the evening
he returns and eats a good dinner in rather an un-
comfortable hotel.
In the cathedral, and amongst its crumbling
battered aisles, a strange peace rests. The pitiful
columns of the church stancl here and there--the
roof has long since gone. On its most sheltered
side is the little graveyard, iïlled with crosses,
where the dead lie. Here and there a shell has
entered and torn a corpse from its resting-place,
and bones lie scattered. On other graves a few
simple flowers are laid.
We went to see the dira cellars which form the
two "postes au secours." In the inner recess of
one a doctor has a bed, in the outer cave some
soldiers were eating food. There is no light even
during the day except from the doorway. At
Nieuport the Germans put in 3,000 shells in one
day. Nothing is left. If there ever was anything
to loot, it has been looted. One doesn't know what

STEENKERKE 155
lies under the débris. Here one sees the inside of
a piano and a few twisted strings, and there a ruerai
umbrella-stand. I saxv one wrought-iron sign
hanging from the falling walls of an inn.
Mr. Bevan and I wandered about in the unearthly
quiet, which persisted even when the guns began to
blaze axvay close by us, whizzing shells over our
heads, and we walked doxvn to the river, and saxv
the few boards which are all that renain of the
bridge. Afterwards a German shell landed with
its unpleasant noise in the middle of the street;
but we had wa»dered up a by-way, and so escaped
it by a minute or less.
In a little burned house, where only a piece of
blackened wall remained, I found a little crucifix
xvhich impressed me very muchit stood out
against the smoke-stained walls with a sort of
grandeur of pity about it. The legs had been shot
away or burned, but "the hands were stretched out
still."
As xve came away firing began ail round about,
and we saw the toss of smoke as the shells fell.
81 JlIay.Ve went to Steenkerke yesterday and
called on Mrs. Knocker, and saxv a terrible infirmary,
which must be put right. It isn't fit for dogs.
At the station to-day our poor Irishman died.
Ah, it was terrible! His lungs never recovered
from the gas, and he breathed his last difficult
breath at 5 o'clock.
In the evening a Zeppelin flexv overhead on its
way to England.
There is a nightingale in a wood near here. He
seems to sing louder and more purely the heavier

156 LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS
the fighting that is going on. When nen are
murdering each other he loses himself in a rapture,
of song, recalling all the old joyous things which
ont uscd to know.
The poetry of lire seems tobe over. Thc var
songs arc forccd and foolish. Thcre is no rime for
reading, and no one looks at pictures, but the
nightingale sings on, and the long-ago spirit of
youth looks out through Time's strong bars, and
speaks of evenings in old, dim woods at home, and
of girlish, splendid drives home from somc dance
wherc " ho" was, when we watchcd the davn
break, and saw our mother sleeping in thc carriagc,
and wondered what it would be like not to " thrill"
all the rime, and to slecp when the nightingale was
singing.
Later there came the time when the song of the
throbbing nightingale ruade one impatient, because
it sang in intolerable silence, and one aehed for the
roar of things, and for the elash of endeavour and
for the strain of purpose. Peace was ata discount
then, and struggle seemed tobe the eternal good.
The silent woods had no word for one, the nightin-
gale was only a mate singing a love-song, and one
wanted solnething 1note than that.
And afterwards, when the struggle and the strain
were given one in abundant measure, the song of
the nightingale came in the lulls that oeeurred in
one's busy lire. One grew to eonneetit with eoffec
out on the lawn in some houses of surpassing eom-
fort, where (years and years ago) one dressed for
dinner, and a crinkly housemaid brought hot water
to one's room. The song went on above the smug

NIGHTINGALES 157

comfort of things, and the amusing conversation,
and the smell of good cigars. Within, we saw
some pleasant drawing-room, with lamps and a big
table set with candles and cards, and we felt that
the nightingale provided a very charming orchestra.
We listened toit as xve listened to amusing conver-
sation, with a sense of comfortable enjoyment and
rest. Why talk of the rime when it sang of break-
ing hearts and high endeavour never satisfied, and
things which no one ever knew or guessed except
oneself ?
It sings now al)ove the sound of death and of
tears. Sometimes I think to myself that God bas
sent his angel to open the prison doors when I hear
that bird in the little xvood close beside the tram-
way line.
On Thursday, June 3rd, I drove in the " bug"
to Boulogne, and took the steamer to England.
I went through a nasty time in Belgium, but now
a good deal of queer affection is shown me, and I
believe they ail rather like me in the corps.

The following brief impression of Miss Mac-
naughtan's work at the soup-kitchen forms the most
appropriate conclusion to her story of her experiences
in Belgium. She cut it out of some paper, and
sent it home to a friend in England, and we seem
to learn from itmore than from any words of her
own--how much she did to help out Allies in their
hour of need :

"It was dark when my car stopped at the little
station of Adinkerke, where I had been invited to
visit a soup-kitchen established there by a Scoteh-

LAST DAYS IN FLANDERS

woman. In peace she is a distinguished author;
in war she is being a mother to such of the Belgian
Army as are lucky enough to pass her vay. I tan
see her now, against a backgrouud of big soup-
boilers and cooking-stoves, handing out woollen
gloves and muftqers to the men who vere tobe on
sentry duty along the line that night. I t was
bitterly cold, and the comforts were gratefully
received.
" For a long rime this most versatile lady ruade
every drop of the soup that was prepared for the
men herself, and she has, so a Belgian military
doctor says, saved more lives than he has with her
timely cups of hot, nourishing tbod. Itis only the
most seriously wounded men vho are taken to the
field hospital, the others are carried straight to the
railway-station, and have to wait there, sometimes
for many hours, till a train tan take them on.
Even then trains carrying the vounded have con-
stantly tobe shunted to let troop trains through.
But, thanks to the enterprise and hard work of this
clever little lady. there is alvays a plentiful supply
.of hot food ready for the men who, weak from loss
of blood, are offen besides faint with hunger."

PART II
AT HOME

HOW THE MESSAGE XVAS DELIVERED

October, 1915.--So much has happened since I
came home from Flanders in June, and I have hOt
had one moment in which to write of it. I round
my house occupied when I returned, so I went to
the Petrograd Hotel and stayed there, going out
of London fbr Sundays.
Everyone I met in England seemed absorbed in
pale children vith adenoids. No one cared much
about the xvar. Children in houses lmwadays
require ibod at weird hours, not toast mutton and
a good plain Christian pudding, but, " You will
excuse out beginning, I know, dear, Jane has to
have her massage after lunch, and Tom has to do
his exercises, and baby has to learn to breathe."
This one has its ears strapped, and that one is
"nervous " and must be "understood," and nothing
is talked of but children. 5Iy mother would never
have a doctor in the house ; " nervousness " was
called bad temper, and was dosed, and stooping
was called "a trick," and was smacked. The
children I now see eat far too much, and when they
159

10 HOW THE MESSAGE WAS DELIVERED
finish off lunch with gravy drunk out of tumblers
it makes me feel very unwell.
I went to the Breitmeyers, at Rushton Hall,
Kettering ; it's a fine place, but I was too tired to
enjoy anything but a bed. The next Sunday I
stayed at Chenies, with the Duchess of Bedford--
always a favourite resort of mine--and another
week I went to Welwyn.
I met a few old men at these places, but no one
else. Everyone is at the front. The houses
generally have wounded soldiers in them, and these
1)lay croquet with a nurse on the lawn, or smoke in
the sun. None of them want to go back to fight.
They seem tired, and talk of the trenches as "proper
'ell."
There is always a little too much walking about
ata "week-end." One feels tired and stiff on
M onday. I well remember last summer having
to take people three rimes to a distant vater
garden--talking all the rime, too! People are
so kind in making it pleasant that they wear
one out.
All the rime I was in London I was 1)reparing
my calnpaign of lecturing. I began with Vickers-
Maxim works at Erith, ou Wednesday, 9th June,
and on the 8th I went to stay with the Cameron
Heads. There was great bustle and 1)reparation
ibr my lecture, Press 1)eol)le in the house at all
hours of the day, and so on. A great bore for my
1)oor friends ; but they were so good about it, and
I loved being with them.
The lecture was rather a red-letter occasion for
me, everyone praising, the Press very attentive,

ERITH 11

etc., etc. The audience promised well for future
things, and the emotion that was stirred nearly
bowled myself over. In some of the hushes that
came one could hear men crying. The Scott
Gattys and a few of my own friends came to
" stand by," and ve ail drove down to Erith in
rnotor-cars, and returned to supper with the Vickers
at 10.30.
The next day old Vickers sent {'or me and asked
me to naine my own price for my lectures, but I
couldn't mix money up with the message, so I
refused all pay, and feel happy that I did so. l
can't, and wo't, profit by this war. I'd rather
lose--I ara losing--but that doesn't matter.
Nothing matters much now. The former things
are swept away, and all the old barriers are dis-
appearing. Out old gods of possession and wealth
are crumbling, and class distinctions don't count,
and even lire and death are pretty much the same
thing.
The Jews say the Messiah will corne after the
war. I think He is here alreadybut on a cross
as of yore !
I went up to Glasgow to make arrangements
there, and my task wasn't an easy one. Somehow
I knew that I must speak, that I must arouse
slackers, and.' tell rotters about what is going on.
One goes fotoEh (led in a way), and only then does
one realise that one is going in unasked to ship-
building yards and munition sheds and docks, and
that one is quite a small woman, alone, and up
against a big thing.
Always the answer I got was the same: "The

162 HOW THE MESSAGE WAS DELIVERED
men are hot working; forty per cent. are slackers.
The output of shells is hot what it ought to be, but
they wo«'t listen !"
In the face of this I arranged seven meetings in
seven days, to take place early in August, and then
I went back to give my lecture in the Queen's Hall,
London. I took the large Hall, because if one has
a message to deliver one had better deliver it to as
many people as possible. It was rather a breath-
less unlertaking, but people turned up splendidly,
and I had a full house. Sir F. Lloyd gave me the
band of the Coldstream Guards, and things went
with a good swing.
I ara still wondering how I did it. The whole
"campaign" has already got rather an unreal atmo-
sphere about it, and often, after crowded meetings,
I have corne home and lain in the dark and have
seen nothing but a sea of faces, and eyes ail turned
my way. It has been a most curious and unex-
pected experience, but England did not realise the
war, and she did not realise the wave of heroism
that is sweeping over the world, and I had to tell
about it.
Well, my lectures went onErith, Queen's Hall,
Sheffield (a splendid meeting, 3,000 people inside
the hall and 300 turned away at the door !), Barrow-
in-Furness. I gave two lectures at Barrow, at 3 and
7.30. They seemed very popular. In the evening
quite a demonstration--pipe band playing "Auld
lang syne," and much cheering. After that New-
castle, and back to the south again to speak there.
Everywhere I took my magic-lantern and showed
my pictures, and I told "good stories " to attract

GLASGOW 163

people fo the meetings, although my heart was,
and is, nearly breaking ail the rime.
Then I began the Glasgow campaign--Parkhead,
"Whiteinch, Rose-Bank, Dumbarton, Greenock,
Beardmore's, Denny's, Armour's, etc., etc. Every-
where there were big audiences, and although I
xvould have spoken to two listeners gladly, I was
still more glad to see the halls filled. The cheers
of horny-handed workmen when they are really
roused just get me by the throat till I can't speak
fbr a minute or two I
At one place I spoke froln a lorry in the dinner-
hour. Ail the men, with blackened faces, crowded
round the car, and others swung from the iron
girders, while some perched, like queer bronze
images, on pieces of machinery. They were ail
very intent, and very polite and courteous, no
interruptions at any of' the meetings. A keen
interest was shown in the war pictures, and the
cheers were deafening sometimes.
A fier Glasgow I went to dear Clemmie "Waring's,
at Lennel, and round her house full of convalescent
oflàcers, and she herself very happy with them and
her new baby. I really wanted fo rest, and meant
to enjoy rive days of repose; but I gave a lecture
the first night, and then had a sort of breakdown
and took to my bed. However, that had fo be got
over, and I went down fo SVales at the end of the
week. The Butes gave me their own rooms at
Cardiff Castle, and a nice housekeeper looked
after me.
There followed a strange fortnight in that ugly
old fortress, with its fine stone-work and the

164 HOW qHE MESSAGE WS DELIVERED

exeerable deeorations eovering every ineh of it.
The days passed oddly. I did a little writing,
and I saw my committee, whom I like. Colonel
Dennis is an excellent fellow, and so are Mr.
Needle, Mr. Vivian Reece, and Mr. Harrison. A
Mr. Howse aeted as secretary.
The first day I gave a dock-gare meeting, and
spoke from a lor,'y, and that night I had my great
meeting at Cardiff. Sir Frank Younghusband
came down for it, and the Mayor took the chair.
The audience was enthusiastie, and every place vas
filled. At one molnent they all rose to their feet,
and holding up their hands swore to fight for the
right till right was won. It was one of the scenes
I shall always remember.
Every day after that I used to have tea and an
egg at 5 o'elock, and a motor would come with one
of my committee to take me to different places of
meeting. It was generally up the Rhondda Valley
that we went, and I came to know well that west-
ward drive, with the sun setting behind the hills
and turning the Taff river to gold. Every night
we went a little further and a little higherAber-
dare, Aberystwyth, Toney Pandy, Tonepentre.
etc., etc. I gave fourteen lectures in thirteen days.
Generally, I spoke in ehapels, and from the pulpit,
and this seemed to give me the chance I wanted to
speak ail my mind to these people, and to ask them
and teach them what Power, and Possession, and
Freedom really meant. Oh, it was wonderful!
The rapt faces of the miners, the hush of the
big buildings, and then the sudden burst of
eheering !

CARDIFF 165
At one meeting there was a bumptious-looking
man, with a bald head, whom I remember. He
took up his position just over the clock in the
gallery. He listened critically, talked a good deal,
and made remarks. I begau to speak straight at
him, without looking at him, and quite suddenly I
saw him, as I spoke of out men at the war, cover
his face and burst into tears.
The children were the only drawback. They
were attracted by the idea of the magic-lantern, mld
used to corne to the meetings and keep oldcr
people out. My lectures were not meant fi)r
children, and I had to adopt the plan of showing
the pictures first and then telling the youngsters
to go, and settling down to a talk with the older
ones, who always remained behind voluntarily.
Ve had some rimes which I tan never forget;
nor tan I forger those dark drives from far up in
the hills, and the mists in the valley, and my own
aching fatigue as I got back about midnight. From
5 till 12.0 every night I was on the stretch.
In the day-time I used to wander round the
garden. One always meets someone whom one
knows. 1 had lunch with the Tylers one day, and
tea with the Plymouths. It was still, bright autumn
weather, and the trees were gold in the ugly gardeu
with the black river running through it. I got
a few lessons in motor driving, and I spoke at the
hospital one afternoon. I took the opportunity of"
getting a dress made at rather a good tailor's, and
rime passed in a manner quite solitary till the
evenings.
Never before have I spent a year of so much

166 HOW THE MESSAGE WAS DEI IVERED

solitude, and yet I have been with people during
my work. I think I know now what thousands of
men and women living alone and working are
feeling. I wish I could help them. There won't
be mauy young marriages now. Vhat are we to
do for girls ail alone ?

To Mrs. Keays- Young.
C.RDIFF CASTLE, CARDIFF
31 August, 1915.
DE.REST B _nY,
Many thanks for your letter, vhich I got on
my way through London. I spent one night there
to see about some work I ara having done in the
house.
I have a drawer quite full of press-cuttings, and
1 do hot know what is in any of them. It is
difficult to choose anything of interest, as they are
all a good deal alike, and all sound my trumpet
very loudly ; but I enclose one specimen.
¥e had meetings every night in Glasgow.
They were mostly badly organised and well
attended. Here I have an agent arranging every-
thing, and two of my meetings have been enormous.
The first was at the dock-gates in the open air, and
the second in the Town Hall. The band of the
Velch Regiment played, and Mr. Glover con-
ducted, but nothing is the same, of course. Alan
is at Porthcawl, and came to see me this morning.
The war news cou|d hardly be worse, and yet I
am told by men who get sealed information from
the Foreign Office that worse is coming.
Poor Russial She wnts help more than anoE-

A CROWDED MEETING 167

one. Her wounded are quite untended. 1 go there
next month.
The King of the Belgians has made me Chevalier
de l'Ordre de Léopold.

Press-cutting enclosed
letter :

"STORIES

Love to ail.
Yours ever,
S.

in 5liss

Macmughtan's

OF THE IVAR."

CARDIFF LECTURE BY MISS MACNAUGHTAN.
AUTHORESS'S APPEAL.

TESTING-TIME ()F NATIONAL CHARA('TER.

A large and enthusiastic audience assembled at
the Park-hall, Cardiff, on Monday evening, to hear
and see Miss Macnaughtan's " Stories and l'ictures
of the War." Miss Macnaughtan is a well-known
authoress, whose works have attained a world-wide
reputation, and, in addition to her travels in
almost every corner of the globe, she has had actual
experience of warfare at the bombardment of Rio,
in the Balkans, the South African War, and, since
September last, in Belgium and Flanders. In her
capacity as ministrant to wounded soldiers she has
gained a unique experience of the horrors of war,
and in ortier to bring home the realities of the situa-
tion, at the instigation of Lady Bute, she consented
to address a number of meetings in South Wales.
At the meeting on Monday night the Lord Mayor
(Alderman J. T. Richards) presided, and in intro-
ducing Miss Macnaughtan .to the audience an-
nounced that for her serwces in Belgium the
honour of the Order of Leopold had been conferred

168 HOW THE MESSAGE WAS DELIVERED

upon her. (Applause.) Ve were engaged, he said,
in fighting a war of right. Ve were not fighting
only for the interests of England and our Empire,
but we were fighting for the interests of humanity
at large. (" Hear, hear.")
Miss Macnaughtan, in the course of her address,
referred to the origin of the war, and how suddenly
it came upon the people of this nation, who were,
for the most part, engaged in sumlner holidays at
the rime. She knew what was going on at the
front, andknew what the Welch Regilnent had been
doing, and " I must tell you," she added, "of the
splendid way in which your regiment has behaved,
and how proud Cardiff must be of it." We knew
very well now that this war had been arranged by
Germany for many years. The Gerlnans used to
profess exceeding kindness to us, and were received
on excellent terlns by our Royal House, but the
veil was drawn away froln that nation's tce, and
we had it revealed as an implacable foe. The
Germans had spoken for years in their own country
about " The Day," and now " The Day" had
arrived, and it was for everyone a day of judgment,
because it was a test of character. We had to put
ourselves to the test. ¥e knev that for some
rime England had not been at her best. Her great
heart was beating true ail the rime, but there
had crept into England a sort of national coldness
aud selfishness, and a great deal too much seriousness
il the natter of money and lnoney-getting.
Although this was discounted in great measure by
her generosity, we appeated to the world af large
as a greedy and lnoney-getting nation.
However this might be, in all parts of the world
the word of an Englishman was still as good as lais
bond. (" Hear, hear.") Yet England, with its
strikes and quarrels and class hatred, and one thing
and another, was not at its best. It was well to

SIR FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND, K.C.I.E. 169

adroit that, just as they admitted the faults of those
they loved best.
Had any one of them failed to rally round the
flag ? Had they kept anything back in this great
war ? She hoped not. The wa" had tested us more
than anything else, and we had responded greatly
to it ; and the young manhood had eome out in a
way that was remarkable. We knew very well that
when the war was begun we were quite unprepared
for it ; but she would tell them this, that our army,
although small, was the finest army that ever took
the field. (Applause.)
Miss Macnaughtan then related a number of
interesting incidents, one of which was, that when
a party of woundcd Englishmen came to a station
where she was tending the Belgian wounded, every
wounded Belgian gave up his bed to accolnmodate
an English soldier. The idea of a (;erma occupa-
tion of English soli, she said, was the idea of a catas-
trophe that was unspeakable. People read things in
the papers and thought they vere exaggerated, but
she had seen them, and she would show photographs
of ruined Belgiuln which would convince them of
what the Germans were now doing in the naine of
God. However unprepared we were for war, the
wounded had been well cared for, and she thought
there never Was a war i vhich the care of the
wounded had been so well managed or so efficient.
(Applause.) They had to be thankful that there had
been no terrible epidemic, and she could hot speak
too highly of the work of the nurses and doctors in
the performance of their duties. This was the rime
for every man to do his duty, and strain every nerve
and muscle to bring the war to an end and get the
boys home again. (Applause.)
Sir Francis Younghusband, K.C.I.E., spoke of
Miss Macnaughtan as a very old friend, whom he
had met m many parts of the Empire. In this

170 HOW THE MESSAGE WAS I)ELIVERE1)
crisis she might wcll have staycd at home in her
comfortablc rcsidencc in London, but shc had
sacrificed her own pcrsonal colnforts in ordcr to
assist others. They must realise that this war was
somcthing lnuch more than a war of dcincc of
their homcs. It was a fight on bchalf of the wholc
of hmnanity. A staggcring blow had becn dealt by
our rclcntless cncmy at Bclgium, which had bccn
knocked down and tramplcd upon, and Germany
had also dcalt blow aftcr blow at humanity by the
use of poison-gas, thc bombardlncnt of seaside towns,
and bombs thrown on dcfcncclcss places by
Zcppelins. She had thrust asidc all thosc right of
humanity which we had cherished as a nation as
most dcar to our hcarts. ¥hat wc wcrc now
fighting for was right, and ho would 1)ut to thcln a
rcsolution that wc would fight for right till right
had won. In responsc to an appeal forithc cndorsc-
ment of his sentiments the audience stood en masse,
and with upraiscd hands shoutcd" Ayc." It was a
stirring moment, and must havc bccn gratifying, to
thc authoress, who has dcvotcd so much of her tlme
and cncrgy to the comfort of the wounded
soldicrs.
The Lord Mayor then proposcd a vote of thanks
to Miss Macnaughtan for hcr address, and this was
carricd by acclamation.
Miss 5Iacnaughtan bricfly rcsponded, and thon
procecdcd to illustratc many of the scenes shc had
witncssed by lantcrn-slides, showing thc rcsults of
bombardments and the ruin of somc of the |hircst
domains of Bclgium and France.
The provision of stewards was arrangcd by the
Cardiff Chambcr of Trade, under the direction
of the Prcsident (Mr. G. Clarry). During the
evening the band of the 3rd Welch Regiment,
under the eonduetorship of Bandmaster K. S.
Glover, gave seleetions.

POISON-GAS 171

A statement having been made that Miss Mac-
na.ughtan was the first to discover a remedy for the
polson-gas used by the Germans, a IVestern 211ail
reporter interviewed the lady before the lecture on
her experienees in this direction. She .replied, that
when the first batch of men came in tom the
trenches suffering from the effects of the gas, the
first thing they asked was for something to drink, to
take the horrible taste out of their mouths. She
obtained a couple of bottles of whisky fl'om the
barge of an American lady, and some distilled
water, and gave this to the soldiers, who appeared
to be greatly relieved. Vrhenever possible, she had
adopted the saine course, but she was unaware that
the remedy had been applied by the military authori-
ries. Even this method of relieving their sufferings,
however, was rejected by a large number of young
soldiers, on the ground that they were teetotallers,
but the Belgian doetors had permitted its use
amongst their men.

SHOULD THE GERMANS COME.

FORETA8TE OF HORROR8 FURNI8HED BY BELGI['M.

During the dinner-hour Miss Macnaughtan gave
an address to workmen at the Bute Docks. Ai1
improvised platform was arranged at the back of
the Seamen's Institute, and some hundreds of men
gathered to hear the story that Miss Macnaughtan
had to give of the xvar. Colonel C. S. Denniss
presided, and amongst those present were Messrs.
T. Vivian Rees, John Andrews, V. Cocks, A.
Hope, S. Fisher, and Robinson Snfith.
Colonel Denniss, in a few introductory remarks,
referred to Miss Macnaughtan's reputation as a
writer, and stated that since the outbreak of war
she had devoted herself to the noble work of helping

17 HOW THE MESSAGE WAS DELIVERED

the wounded soldiers in Belgium and France. She
had come to Cardiff to tell the working-men what
she had seen, with the object, if possible, of stimu-
lating them to help forward the great cause we were
fighting for.
Miss Macnaughtan said she had been speaking in
many parts of the country, but she was especially
proud fo address a meeting of Velsh working-men.
Besides coming of a long line of IVelsh ancestors,
her brother-in-law, Colonel Young, was in command
of the 9th Welch Battalion at the front, and she
had also four nephews serving in the Velch Regi-
ment. Only the day before Colonel Young had
written to her: "The Welshman is the most
intensely patriotic man that I know, and if is
always the same thing,' Stick it, Velch.' His
patriotism is splendid, and I do hOt want to fight
with a better man." Miss Macnaughtan then
explained that she was not asking fbr funds, and
was hot speaking for employers or owners. She
simply wished fo tell them her experiences of the
war as she had seen if, and to describe the heroism
which was going on af the front. If they looked
at the war from the point of view ofmen going out to
kill each other they had a wrong conception of what
was going on. She had been asked fo speak of the
couditions which might prevail should the Germans
reach this country. She did hOt feel competent to
.speak on that subject, as the whole idea of Gerlnans
m this country seemed absolutely inconcei,able.
If the Gernmns were fo land on our shores ail
the waters which surrounded this isle would not
wash the land clean. She knew what the Germans
were, and had seen the wreck they had ruade of
Belgium and part of France. She knew what the
women and children had suffered, and how the
churches had been desecrated and demolished. It
was said that this was a war of humanity, but she

A CLABION CALL 178

believed it was a war of right against wrong; and
if she were asked when the war would finish, she
eould only say that we would fight it right on to the
end until we were victorious.
The Germans were beaten already, and had be«l
beaten from the day they gave up their honour.
She spoke of the heroism of the troops, and stated
that since September last she had been rumfing
a soup-kitchen for the wounded. In this humble
vocation she had had an opportunity of gauging the
spirit of the soldiers. She had seen them sick,
wounded, and dying, but had never known
them give in. Vhy should humble villages in
France without soldiers in them be sheiled ? That
was Germa, ly, ail(| that was v|mt thcy saw. The
thing vas ahnost incoleeivable, but she had seen
helpless women and childreu brought to the
hospitals, lnailned and wounded by the cruel
German shells. After this war England was going
to be a better country than before. Up to now
therc had been a national selfishness which ws
growing very strong, and there was a terrible love
of lnoney, which, ai'ter all, was of very little accouut
unless it was used in the propcr direction. She
could tell them stories of Belgians who had had to
tire upon their own women and children who were
being marched in front of German troops. The
power of Gerlnany had to be crushed. The spirit
of England and lVales was one in this great war,
and they would not falter until they had eluerged
triumphant. (Applause.)
Sir. Robinson Smith said the clariou call had
been sounded, and they were prepared, if necessary,
to give their last shilling, their last drop of blood,
and their very selves, body, soul, and spirit, to
• fight ibr right till right had won. (Applause.)
Cheers were given for the distinguished authoress,
and the proceedings terminated.

17# HOW THE MESSAGE WAS DELIVERED
After Cardiff (and a most cordial send-off from
my committee) I came back to London, and lectured
at Eton, at the Polytechnic, and various other
places, while all the rime I was preparing to go to
Russia, and I was also writing.
In the year that has passed my rime has been
fully occupied. To begin with, when the war
broke out I studied district-nursing in Valworth
for a month. I attended committees, and arranged
to go to Belgium, got my kit, and had a good deal
of business to arrange in the way of house-letting,
etc., etc. Afterwards, I went to Antwerp, till the
siege and the bombardment; then followed the
flight to Ostend; after that a further flight to
Furnes. Then came the winter of my work, day
and night at the soup-kitchen for the wounded,
a few days at home in January, then back again
and to work at Adinkerke till June, when I cmne
home to lecture.
During the year I have brought out four books,
I have given thirty-five lectures, and written both
stories and articles. I have gone from tovn to
town in England, Scotland, and Vales, and I have
had a good deal of anxiety and much business
at home. I have paid a few visits, but not restful
ones, and I have written ail my own correspondence,
as I have not had a secretary. I have collected
fimds for my work, and sent off stores of
begging lettels. Often I have begun work at 5.30
a.m., and I have not rested ail day. As I ara not
very young this seems to me a pretty strenuous
rime !
Now I bave let my house again, and ana off "' into

THE DEATH OF YOUTH 175

the unknown " in Russia! I shouldn't really mind
a few days' rest before we begin any definite work.
Behind everyone I suppose at this rime lurks the
horror of war, the deadly fear for one's dearest ;
and, above ail, one feelsat least I do--that one is
ahvays, and quite palpably, in the shadow of the
death of youth--beautifld youth, happy and healthy
and free. Always I seem fo see the white faces of
boys turned up to the sky, and I hear their cries
and see the agony whieh joyous youth was never
meant fo bear. They are too young for if, fitr too
young; but they lie out on the field between the
trenches, and bite the nmd in their frenzy of pain ;
and they call for their mothers, and no one cornes,
and they call fo their friends, but no one hears.
There is a roar of battle and of bursting shells, and
who can listen to a boy's groans and his shrieks of
pain ? This is war.
A nation or a people want more sea-board or
more trade, so they begin to kill youth, and fo
torture and fo burn, and God himself may as[=,
" Vhere is my beautiful flock ?" No one answers.
Itis war. re nmst expect a "list of casualties."
"The Germans have lost more than we bave done ;"
" We must go on. even if the war lasts ten years ;"
"A million more men are needed "--thus the fools
called men talk! But Youth looks up with
haggard eyes, and Youth, grown old, learns that
Death alone is mercififl.
One sees even in soldiers' jokes that the thought
of death is not far off. I sald to one man, " You
have had a narrow squeak," and he replied, " I
don't mind if I get there first so long as I can stoke

176 HOW THE MESSAGE WAS DELIVERED
up for those Germans." Another, clasping the hand
of his dead Captain, said, "Put plenty of sandbags
round heaven, sir, and don't let a German through."
The other day, when the forward mo-ement was
made in France and Belgium, Charles's Regiment,
the 9th Welch, was told to attack at a certain
point, which could only be reached across an open
space raked by machine-gn tire. They were hot
given the order to move for twelve days. during
which rime the men hardly slept. SVhen the
charge had to be made the roar of guns ruade
speaking quite impossible, so directions were given
by sending up rockets. SVhen the rockets appeared,
nota single man delayed an instant in making the
attack. One young officer, in the trench where
Charles was, had a football, and this he flung over
the parapet, and shouting, "Corne on, boys l" he
and the men of the regiment played football in the
open and in front of the guns. Right across the
gun-raked level they kicked the ball, and when
they reached the enemy's lines only a few of them
wcre left.
Charles wrote, " I ara too old to see boys killed."
Colonel $¥alton, with a handful of his regiment,
was the only officer to get tlu'ough the three lines
of the enemy's trenches, and he and his men dug
themselves in. Just in front of them where they
paused, he saw a fine young oflïcer come along the
road on a motor bicycle, carrying despatches. The
next minute a high-explosive shell burst, and, to
use his own words, " There was not enough of the
young officer to put on a threepenny bit." Always
men tell me there is nothing left to bury. One

A LESSON FOR TURKS 177

minute there is a splendid piece of upstanding,
vigorous manhood, and the next there is no finding
one piece of him to lay in the sod.
The Turks seem to have forsaken their first
horrible and devilish cruelties towards English
prisoners. They have been taught a lesson by the
Australians, who took some prisoners up to the top
of a ridge and rolled them down into the Turks'
trenches like balls, firiug ou them as they rolled.
Horrible ! but after that Turkish cruelties ceased.
Our own men see red since the Canadians were
crucified, and I fancy no prisouers were taken for a
long rime after. We " censor" this or that in the
newspapers, but nothing will censor men's tongues,
and there is a terrible and awfld tale of sutfering
and death and savagery going ou uow. Like a
ghastly dream we hear of trenches taken, and the
cries of men go up, "Mercy, comrade, mercy !"
Sometimes they plead, poor caught and trapped
and pitiful human beings, that they have wives and
children who love them. The slaughter goes ou,
the bayonet rends open the poor body that someone
loved, then cornes the internal gush of blood, and
another carcase is flung into the burying trench,
with some lime on the top of it to prevent a smell
of rotting flesh.
My God, what does it ail mean ? Are men so
mad . And why are they killing ail our best and
bravest ? Out first army is gone, and surely such
a company never before took the field! Out-
matched by twenty to one, they stuck it at Mons
and on the Aisne, and saved Paris by a miracle.
Ail lny old friends fell then--men near my own

178 HOW THE MESSAGE WAS DELIVERED

age, whom I have known in many elimes--Eustace
Crawley, Victor Brooke, the Goughs, and other
splendid men. Now the sons of my friends are
talling fastwDuncan Sim's boy, young W ilson,
Neville Strutt, and stores of others. I know one
case in which tbur brothers have fallen ; another,
where twins of nineteen died side by side ; and this
one has his eyes blown out, and that one has his leg
torn oiT, and another goes mad ; and boys, creeping
back to the bse holding an arm on, or bewildered
by a bullet through the brain, wander out of their
way till a piece of shrapnel or torn edge of shell
finds them, and they fall again, with their poor
boyish faces buried in the nud I
Mr. -- dined with us last night. He had been
talking of his brother who was killed, and he said : " I
think it makes a difference if you belong to a family
which has always given its lives to the country.
X¥e are accustomed to make these sacrifices."
ïhus bravely in the light of day, but when even-
ing came and we sat together, then we knew just
what the lire of the boy had cost him. They tell
us--these defrauded broken-hearted ones--just how
tall the lad was, and how good to look at ! q'hat
seems to me so sad--as if one reckoned one's love
by inches ! And yet itis the beauty of youth that
1 mourn also, and its horribly lonely death.
"They never got him further than the dressing-
station," Mr.  said ; "butwhe would alvays put
up a fight, you know--he lived for four days. No,
there was never any hope. Hall the back of his
head was shattered. But he put up a fight. My
brother would always do that."

PART III
RUSSIA AND THE PERSIAN FRONT

CtlAP'rER I

PETRO(IRAI)

]IRS. VYNNE, Mr. Bevan, and I left l,ondon for
Russia on October 16, 1915. We are attaehed provi-
sionally to the Anglo-Russian hospital, with a stipu-
lation that we are at liberty to proceed to the ff'ont
with our ambulances as soon as we can get permission
to do so. We understand that the Russian wounded
are suffering terribly, and getting no doctors, nurses,
or field ambulances. We crossed from Newcastle
to Christiania in a Norwegian boat, the Bessheim.
It was supposed that in this ship there was less
chance of being stopped, torpedoed, or otherwise
inconvenienced.
We reached Christiania after a wonderfully calm
crossing, and went to the Grand Itotel at 1 a.m.
No rooms to be had, so we went on to the Victoria
--a good old house, not fashionable, but with a
nice air about it, and some solid comforts. We
left on Vednesday, the 20th, at 7 a.m. This was
something of a feat, as we have twenty-four boxes
with us. I only claim four, and feel as if I might
179 1

180 PETROGRAD

have brought more, but everyone has a different
way of travelling, and luggage is offert objected to.
Indeed, I think this marrer of travelling is one of
the most curious in the world. I cannot under-
stand why itis that to get into a train or a boat
causes men and women to leavë off restraint and to
act in a primitive way. Why should the com-
panionship of the open road be the supreme test of
fi-iendship ? and why should one feel a certain fear
ofgetting to know people too well on a journey ?
The last friends I travelled with vere very careful
indeed, and we used to reckon up accounts and
divide the price of a bottle of "vin ordinaire"
equally. My friends to-day seem inclined to do
themselves very well, and to scatter largesse
everywhere.
Sto«t'holm. 21 O«tober.--After a long day in
the train we reached Stockholm yesterday evening,
and went to the usual "Grand Hotel." This rime
itis very "grand," and very expensive. Mr. Bevan
has a terrible pink boudoir-bedroom, which costs
£3 per night, and 1 have a small room on the
fourth floor, which costs lTs. 6d. without a bath.
Ïhere is rather a nice court in the middle of the
house, with flowers and a band and tables for dinner,
but the sight of everyone "doing himself well"
always makes me feel a little sick. The vines and
liqueurs, and the big cigars at two shillings each,
and the look of repletion on men's faces as they
listen to the band after being fed, somevhat disgust
Ille.
One's iustinct is to dislike luxury, but in war-
rime it seems horrible. A;e ourselves will probably

STOCKHOLM 181

have to rough it badly soon, so I don't mind, but
it's a side of lire that seems to me as beastly as
anything I know. Fortunately, the luxury of an
hotel is minimised by the fact that there are no
" necessaries," and one lives in an atmosphere of
open trunks and bags, with things pulled out of
them, which counterbalances crystal electric fittings
and lnarble floors.
We rested all this morning, lunched out, and in
the afternoou went to have tea with the Crown
Prince and Princess of Sweden. They were very
delightful. The British Minister's wife, I,ady
Isobel Howard, went with us. The Princess had
just finished reading my "Diary of the Var," and
was very nice about it. The children, who came
in to tea, were the prettiest little creatures I bave
ever seen, with curly hair, and faces like the water-
colour pictures of a hundred years ago. The
Princess herself is most attractive, and reminds one
of the pictures of Queen Victoria as a young
woman. Her sensitive face is full of expression,
and her colour cornes and goes as she speaks of
things that more her.
This afternoon we went to tea at the Legatiou
with the Howards. The House is charlningly
situated on the Lake, with lovely trees all about it.
It isn't quite finished yet, but will be very
delightful.
22 October.--It is very strange to find oneself
in a country where war is not going on. The
absence of guns and Zeppelins, the well-lighted
streets, and the peace of it all, are quite stri'king.
But the country is pro-German ahnost to a man!

18 PETROGRAD

And it has been a narrow squeak to prevent war.
Even now I suppose one wrong more may lead to
an outbreak of hostilities, and the recent German
victories may yet bring in other countries on her
side. Bulgaria has been a glaring instance of siding
with the one she considers the winning side (Gott
strafe ber !), and Greece is still wondering what to
do! Thank God, I belong to a race that is full of
primitive instincts ! Poor old England still barges
in whenever there is a fight going on, and gets her
head knocked, and goes on fighting just the saine,
and never knows that she is heroic, but blunders
Ol--simple-hearted, stupid, sublime!
2 October.--I went to the English ehureh this
moming with Mr. Laneelot Smith, but there was
no serviee as the ehaplain had ehieken-pox! So I
came home and paeked, and then lunehed with
Mr. Erie Hambro, Mr. Laneelot Smith. and
Mr. , all rather interesting men at this erisis,
when four nations at least are undeeided what to do
in the marrer of the war.
About 6 o'eloek we and out boxes got away from
Stoekhohn. Our expenses for the few days we
spent there were £60, although ve had very few
meals in the hotel. We had a long journey to
Haparanda, where we stopped for a day. The eold
was terrible and we spent the day (my birthday) on
a sort of luggage barge on the river. On my last
birthday we were bolting from Furnes in front of
the Germans, and the birthday before that I was
on the top of the Roeky Mountains.
Talking of the Roekies reminds me (did I need
reminding) of Elsie Northeote, my dear friend, who

LOVE AND PAIN 183

married and went to lire therc. The other night
some friends of mine gave me a little '" send-off"
before I left 1,ondon--dinner and the l'alaee
Theatre, xvhere I felt like a ghost returned to earth.
AI1 the old lot were there as of yore--Viola Tree,
Lady Diana Manners, Harry Lindsay, the Raymond
Asquiths, etc., etc, I saw them ail tl'Oln quite far
away. Lord Stamnore was in the box with us,
and he it was who told me of Elsie Northcote's
sudden death. It wasn't the right place to hear
about it. Too may aregone or aregoig. 51)" own
losses are almost stupefing; md sonething dead
within myself looks with sightlcss eyes on death ;
with groping hands I touch it sometimes, and then I
know that I ara dead also.
There is only one thing that one can never
renounce, and that is love. Love is part of one,
and can't be given up. l,ove can't be separated
from one, even by death. It cornes once and
remains always. Itis never fulfilled; the fulfil-
ment of love is its crucifixion ; but it lives on for
ever in a passion-week of pain until pain itself grows
dull; and then one wishes one had been born quite
a common little soul, when one would probably
have been very happy.
28 October.--VVe arrived at midnight last night
at Petrograd. Ian Malcohn was at the hotel, and
had remained up to welcome us. To-day we have
been unpacking, and settling down into rather
comfortable, very expensive rooms. 51y little box
of a place costs twenty-six shillings a night. We
lunched with tvo Russian oflïcers and Sir. -Ian
Malcolm, and then I went to the British Elnbassy,

184 PETROGRAD
where the other two joined me. Sir George
Buchanan, our Ambassador, looks overworked and
tired. Lady Georgina and I got on vell to-
gether..
The day wasn't quite satisfactory, but one must
remember that a queer spirit is evoked in war-time
which i s very diflïcult of analysis. Primarily there
is "a right spirit renewed" in every one of us.
¥e want tobe one in the great sacrifice which war
involves, and we offer and present ourselves, our
souls and bodies in great causes, only to find that
there is some strange unexplained quality of resist-
ance meeting us everywhere.
Mary once said to me in her quaint way, "' Your
duty is to give to the Queen's Fund as becomes
your position, and to get properly thanked."
This lady-like behaviour, combined with cheque-
writing on a large scale, is always popular. If can
be repeated and again repeated till cheque-writing
becomes automatic. Then from nowhere there
springs a curious class of persons whom one has
never heard of before, with skins of invulnerable
thickness and with wonderful self-confidence.
They claire almost occult powers in the marrer of
"organisation," and they generally require pity for
being overworked. For a rime their names are in
great circulation, and afterwards one doesn't hear
very much about them. Florence Nightingale
would have had no distinction nowadays. Itis
doubtful if she would have been allowed to work.
Some quite inept person in a high position would
have effectually prevented it. Most people are
on the offensive against " high-souled work," and

FOOTBALL UNDER FIRE 185

prepared to put their foot down heavily on any-
thing so presumptuous as heroism except of the
orthodox kind, and even the right kind is often not
understood.
There is a story I try to tell, but something gets
into lny throat, and I tell it in jerks when I tan.
Itis the story of the men who played football
across the open between the enelny's line of trenches
and out ovn when it was raked by tire. Vhen I
had finished, a fi'iend of mine, evidently waiting br
the end of a pointless story, said, "Vhat did they
do that for ?" (Oh, ye gods, bave pity on men and
women who surfer from fatty dcgeneration of the
soul !)
Still, in spire of it ail, the Voice cornes, and has
to be obeyed.
30 O«tober.--We lunched at the Embassy yester-
day to meet the Grand Duchess Victoria. She is a
striking-looking woman, tall and strong, and she
wore a plain dark blue cloth dress and a thnny
little blue silk cap, and one splendid string of pearls.
At the front she does very fine work, and we orfered
our services to her. I have begun to write a little,
but after my crowded lifi the days feel curiously
empty. Lady Heron Maxwell came to call.
Ve were telling each other spy stories the other
night. Some of them vere very interesting. The
Germans have lately adopted the plan of writing
letters in English to English prisoners of ,var in
Germany. These, of course, are quite simple, and
pass the Censor in England, but, once on the other
side, they go straight to Govermnent officiais, and
whereas " Dear Bill" may mean nothing to us, it is

186

part of a German
portant information.
diseovered this trick.

PETROG RA 1)
code and conveys some im-
Mr. Philpotts at Stockhohn

On the Russian front a soldier was round with
his ja,v tied up, speechless aJd bleeding. A doctor
tried to persuade him to take cover and get atten-
tiott ; but he shook his head, and signified by actions
that he was unable to speak owing to his damaged
jaw. The doctor shoved him into a dug-out, and
said kindly, "Just let nie bave a look at you.
On stripping the bandages off there was no wound
at all, and the German in Russian uniform was
given a cigarette and shot through the head.
In Flanders we used to see companies of spies led
out to be shotfirst a party of soldiers, then the
spies, after them the burying-party, and then the
firing-partymarching stolidly to some place of
execution.
How a,vful shell-fire must be for those who
really can't stand it ! I heard of a Colonel the other
day--a man vho rode to hounds, and seemed quite
a sound sort of fellowand when the first shell
came over, he leapt from his horse and lay on the
ga-ound shrieking vith fear, and with every shell
that came over he yelled and screamed. H e had
to be sent home, of course. Some people say this
sort of thing is purely physical. That is never my
view of the marrer.
Miss Cavell's execution has stirred us ail to the
bottom of out hearts. The mean trickiness of her
trial, the refusal to let facts be known, and then
the cold-blooded murder of a brave English woman
at 2 a.m. on a Sunday morning in a prison yard

3ILS.".; CA EI,I, 187

It is too awful to think about. Site was hot
even technically a spy, but had Inerely assisted
some soldiers to get away because she thought they
were going to be shot. A rumour reached the
American and Spanish Legations that she had been
condelnned and was to be shot at once, and they in-
stantly rang up on the telephone to know if this was
true. They were informed by the M ilitary Court
which had tried and condemned her that the verdict
vould hot be pronounced till three days later. But
the two Legations, still hot satisfied, protested that
they must be allowed to visit the prisoner. This
was refused.
The English chaplain was at last permitted to
enter the prison, and he saw 5liss Cavell, and gave
her the Sacrament. She said she was happy to die
for her country. They led her out into the prison
yard to stand before a firing-party of soldiers, but
on her way there she fainted, and an ofticer took
out his revolver and shot her through the head.
Petrograd ! the stage of romance, and the subject
of dazzling pictures, is one of the most commouplace
towns I have ever been in. It has its one big
street--the Nevski Prospect--where people walk
and shop as they do in Oxford Street, and it has a
few cathedrals and churches, vhich are hot very
wonderful. The roadways are a mass of slush and
are seldom swept ; and there are tramways, always
crowded and hot, and many rickety little victorias
with damp cushions, in which one goes everywhere.
Even in the evening we go out in these ; and the
colds in the head which follow are chronic.

188 PETROGRAD
The English colony seems to me as provincial as
the rest of Petrograd. The town and its people
disappoint me greatly. The Hôtel Astoria is a
would-be fashionable place, and there is a queer
crowd of people listening to the hand and eating, as
surely only in Russia they can eat. Itis all wrong
in war-time, and I hate being one of the people
here.
N.B.--XYrite "Miss X¥ilbraham" as soon as
possible, and write it in gusts. Call one chapter
"The Diners," and try to eonvey the awful
solemnity of meals--tle grave young men with
their goblets of brandy, in whieh they slowly
rotate iee, the waiter who hands the bowl where
the iee is thrown when the brandy is cool enough,
and then the final gulp, with a nose inside the large
goblet. Shade of Heliogabalus! If the human
tummy must indeed be distended lotir rimes in
twenty-four hours, need it be done so solemnly,
and with sueh a pig-like love of the trough ? If
they would even eat what there is with joy one
wouldn't mind, but the talk about food, the onee-
enjoyed food, the favourite food, is really too
tiresome. " XVhere to dine" beeomes a sort of test
of true worth. Grave young men give the names
of four or rive favoured places in London. Others,
hailed and aeknowledged as really good judges,
naine half-a-dozen more in Paris where they "do
you well." The rem toff knows that lussia is the
place to dine. We earnestly diseuss blue-point
oysters and eaviare, whieh, if you "know the man,"
you ean get sent fresh on the Vienna Express from
Moseow.

BERNARD SHAW 189

1 once asked Bernard Shaw to dinner, and he
replied on a postcard: " Never! I decline to sit
in a hot room and eat dead animais, even with you
fo amuse me !"
I always sëem to be sitting in hot rooms and
eating dead animais, and then paying a!nazing high
prices for them.
4, Arovembe.r.--I dined with the s the other
night. Either the hot rooms, or the fact that I ara
anoemic at present, causes me to be so slecpy iu the
evenings that I dislike dining out. I sway with
sleep even when people are talking to me. It was
a middle-class little party, such as I often enjoy.
Olle's friends would tain only have one see a few
fine blooms, but I love eommon flowers.
We have been to see "Peter's little bouse." There
was a tiny shrine, erowded with people in ,vraps
and shawls, who erossed themselves ceaselessly, to
the danger of their neighbours' faces, for so fervid
were their gesticulations that their hands flew in
every direction ! They shoved with their elbows fo
get near the wax candles that dripped befbre the
pictures of the blaek-faeed Virgin and Child, who
vere "allowing" soldiers to be painfully slaughtered
by the million.
Ye gods, what a faithl Vhat an acrobatie
performance to try and reeoncile a Father's personal
eare for His poor little sparrows and His indifferenee
at seeing so many of them stretched bleeding on
the ground I
Religion so far has been a suceess where martyrs
are eoncerned, but we must go on with courage to
something that teaehes men to lire for the best and

i90 PETROGRA1)
the highest. This should corne from ourselves, and
lead up fo God. If should not require teaching, or
priests, or even prayer. Humanity is big enough
ibr this. It should shake off cords and chains and
old Bible stories of carnage and killing, and get fo
work fo find a new, responsible, clean, sensible,
practical scheme of lire, in which each man will
have fo get away from silly old idols and step out
by himself.
There is nothing very difficult about it. but we
are so beset by bogies, and so full of iars and
fancies that we are hall the rime either in a state of
funk, or in ifs antithesis, a state of cheekiness.
Schoolmaster-ridden, we are behaving still like
silly children, and our highest endeavour is (school-
boy-like) fo resemble our fellows as nearly as
possible. The result is stagnation, crippled forms,
wasted energy, people waiting for years by some
healing pool and longing for someone fo dip
them in. All the release that Christ preached
to men is being smothered in something worse
than Judaism. Ve love chains, and when they
are removed we either turn and put them on again,
or else caper like mad things because we have cast
them off. Freedom is still as distant as the stars.
5 November.--Yesterday we lunched with the
English chaplain, Mr. Lombard. He and I had a
great talk walking home on a dark afternoon
through the slush after we had been to call on the
Maxwells. I think he is one of the" exiles" whom
one meets all the world over, one of those who
don't transplant well. I am one myself! And
Mr. Lombard and I nearly wept when we round

" CHARITY" AND WAR 191

ourselves in a street that recalled the Maryleboue
Road. Ve pretended we were in sight of Eustou
Station, and talked of taking a Baker Street bus
till our voices grexv choky.
How absurd we islanders are l London is a
poky place, but we adore it. St. James's Street is
about the length of a good big ship, yet we don't
feel we have lived till we get back to it ! And as
for Piccadilly and St. Paul's, well, we see them in
our dreams.
Our little unit bas not found work yet. I was
told belote I joined it that it had been accepted
by the Russian Red Cross Society.
I have been hearing many things out here, and
thinking many things. There is only olle way of
directing Red Cross work. Everything should be
-and must be in future--put under military
authority and used by military authority.
"Charity" and war should 1)e separate. [t is
absurd that the Belgians i England should be
housed and fed by a Government grant, and out
own soldiers are dependent o private charity for
the very socks they wear and the cigarettes they
smoke. Aeroplanes had to be instituted and prizes
offered for them by a newspaper, and ammunition
wasn't provided till a newspaper took up the
marrer. To be mob-ridden is bad enough, but to
be press-ridden is worse !
Now, war is a military marrer, and should be
controlled by military authorities. Mrs. IVynne,
Mr. Bevan, and I should not be out here waiting
for work. We ought to be sent where we are
needed, and so ought all Red Cross people. This

19 PETROGRAD

would put an end, one hopes, to the horrid business
of getting "sort jobs."
7 November.--Vhenever I ara away fi'om
England I rejoice in the passing of each week that
brings me nearer to my return. I had hardly
realised to-day was the 7th, but I ara thankful I
ara one week uearer the grey little island and all
the nice people in it.
Yesterday I went to Lady Georgina Buchanan's
soup-kitchen, and helped to feed Polish refugees.
They strike me as being very like animals, but not
so interesting. In the barracks where they lodge
everyone crowds in. There is no division of the
sexes, babies are yelling, and families are sleeping
on wooden boards. The places are heated but hot
aired, and the smell is horrid; but they seem to
revel in " fi'owst." All the women are dandling
babies or trying to cook things on little oil-stoves.
At night-time things are awful, I believe, and the
British Ambassador has been asked to protect the
girls who are there.
8 November.This afternoon I went to see
Mrs. Bray, and then I had an unexpected pleasure,
for I met Johnnie Parsons, vho is Naval Attaché
to Admiral Phillimore, and we had a long chat.
When one is in a strange land, or with people who
know one but little, these encounters are wonder-
fully nice.
The other night I dined with the Heron Max-
wells, and had a nice evening and a gaine of bridge.
Some Americans, called de Velter, were there. I
think most people from the States regret the
neutrality of their country.

VISIONS OF PEACE 193

Everyone brings in diflrent stories of the war.
Some say Germany is exhausted and beaten, others
say she is flushed with victory, and vith enornmus
reserves of men, food, and ammunition. I try to
believe all the good I hear, and when even children
or fools tell me the war will soon be over, I vant
to embrace them--I don't tare whether they are
talking lmnsense or hot. Sometimes I seem to see
a great hushed cathedral, and ourselves returning
thanks ibr Peace and Victory, and the vision is too
much for me. I must either work or be chloro-
formed till that time cornes.
9 November.--I thilk there is only one thing I
dislike more than sitting in an hotel bedroom and
learlfing a new language, and that is sitting in an
hotel bedroom and nursing a cold in my head.
Lately I have been learning Russial--aud now I
am sniflïng. My own fault. I would sleep with
my window open in this unhealthiest of cities, and
smells and marsh produced a feverish cold.
Out in the square the soldiers drill all the rime
in the show, lying in it, standing in it, and dressed
for the most part in cotton clothing. Vool can't
be bought, so a close cotton web is made, with the
inside teased out like flannelette, and this is all
they have. The necessaries of life are being
"cornered " right and left, mostly by the com-
mercial houses and the banks. The other day 163
railway trucks of sugar were discovered in a siding,
where the owners had placed it to wait for a rise.
Meanwhile, sugar has been almost unprocurable.
Everyone from the front describes the condition
of the refugees as being most xvretched. They are

19' PETROGRAD
camping in the snow by the thousand, and are still
tramping from Poland.
And here we are in the Astoria Hotel, and there
is one pane of glass between us and the weather ;
one pane of glass between us and the peasants of
Poland ; one pane of glass dividing us from poverty,
and keeping us in the horrid atmosphere of this
place, with its evil women and its squeaky band!
How I hate money !
I hope soon to join a train going to Dvinsk with
food and sut)plies.
13 November.--I have felt very brainless since I
came here. It is the result. I believe, of the Petro-
grad climate. Nearly everyone feels it. I had a
little book in my head which I thought I could
"dash off," and that writing it would till up these
waiting days," but I can't write a word.
The war news is not good, but the more territory
that Germany takes, the more the British rub their
hands and cry victory. Their courage and optimism
are wonderful.
To-day I spent with the 5Iaxwells, and met a
nurse, newly returned from Galicia, who had
interesting tales to tell. One about some Russian
airmen touched me. There had been a tierce fight
overhead, when suddenly the German aeroplane
began to wheel round and round like a leaf, when
it was round that the machine was on tire. One of
the airmen had been shot and the other burnt to
death. The Russians refused to corne and look at
the remains even of the aeroplane, and said sadly,
" All we men of the air are brothers." They gave
the dead Germans a military funeral, and then

BULGARIA 195

sailed over the enemy's lines to drop a note to say
that all honour had bee done fo thc brave dead.
I met Monsieur Jec(luier, who was fifll of the
political situation--said Bulgaria wou ld have joined
us any day if we had promised fo give her lqukowina;
and blamed Bark, the Russian Fin:race Miuister, for
the terres of England's loan (the loan is ibr thirty
millions, and repayment is promised in a year, which
is manifestly impossible, and the situation may be
strained). He said also that Motolm, the Japanese
Ambassador, is far the finest politician here; aud
he told me that while Russia ought to bave been
protecting lhe road to Constantinople she was
quarrelling about what its new naine was to be,
and had decided to call it "Czareska." Now, I
suppose, the Germans are already there. IAoyds
bas beeu giving £100 at a premium of £5 that King
Ferdinand won't be on lais tlrone next .lune.
The premium has gone to çl0, which is good news.
If Ferdie is assassinated the world will be rid of au
evil fellow who has played a mean and degraded part
in this war.
We dined af the British Embassy last night. I
was taken in to dinner by Mr. George Lloyd, who
was full of interesting news. 1 |lad a nice chat
with Lady Georgina.
'2,0 N'ovember.--It has been rather a '" hang-ou "
ever since I wrote last, nothing settled and nothiug
fo do. No one ever seems at their best in Petrograd.
It is a cross place and a common place. 1 never
understood Tolstoi till I came here. On all sides one
sees the saine insane love of money and love of food.
A restaurant here disgusts me as nothing else
14

196 PETROGRAD
ever did. From a menu a foot long no one seems
able to choose a meal, but something ïresh must be
ordered. The prices are quite silly, and. oddly
enough, people seem to revel in then. They still
eat caviare at ten shillings a head; the larger the
bill the better they are pleased.
,Joseph, the Napoleon of the restaurant, keeps ail
eye on everyone. He is yellow, and pigeon-breasted,
but his voice is like grease, and ]le speaks caress-
ingly of food, pencils entries in his pocket-book,
and stimulates jaded appetites by signalling the
• ' voiture aux hors d'œuvres " to approach. The
rooms are far too hot for anyone to feel hungry, the
band plays, and the leader of it grins all the tilne,
and capers about on his little platform like a monkey
on an organ.
Always in this life of restaurants and gilt and
roubles I ara reminded of the fact that the only
authentic picture we have of hell is of a man there
who all his life had eaten good dinners.
I have been busy seeing all lnanner of people in
order to try and get work to do. I hear of suffering.
but I aln never able to locate it or to do anything for
it. No distinct information is forthcoming; and
when I go to one high official he gives me his tard
and sends me to another. Nothing is even decided
about Mrs. Vynne's cars, although she is offering
a gift worth some thousands of pounds. I go to
Lady Georgina's work-party on hlondays and meet
the English colony, and on Vednesdays and
Saturdays I distribute soup; but it is an unsatis-
factory business, and the days go by and one gets
nothing donc. One isn't even storiaag up health, be-

lnisehief
faeilities
Russian
wants fo
taxi out
Le., 82s.

STAGNATION

197

cause this is rather an unhealthy place, so altogether
we are tieling a bit low. 1 tan never again be sur-
prised at Russian" laissez fmre, or want of push and
energy. It is ail the result of the place itself. I
feel in a drealn, and vish vith all my heart I could
vake up in my own bed.
21 Vovember.--Sunday, and I have slept late. At
home I begin work at 6 a.m. Here, like everyone
else, I only wake up at night, and the " best hours
of the day," as we call them, are vasted, à la Vratts '
hylnn, in slulnber. If it was possible one would
organise one's tilne a bit, but hotel lire is the very
for that sort of thing. There are 11o
tbr anything. One lnust telephone in
or spend roubles on messengers if one
get into touch with anyone. 1 took a
to lunch one day. It cost 16 roubles

Dear old Lord Radstock used to say in the
spring, " The Lord is ealling me to Italy," and a
testy parson once relnarked, " The Lord always
calls you at very convenient rimes, Radstock." I
don't feel as if the lord had called me here at a
very convenient time.
1 called on Princess Hélène Scherbatofl yester-
day, and found her and her people at home. The
mother runs a hospital-train for the wounded in the
intervals of hunting wolves. Her son has been
dead for some mont|ls, and she says she hasn't had
tilne to bury him yetl One assumes he is
embahned! Yet I can't help saying they were
charming people to meet, so we must suppose they
are somewhat cracked. The daughter is lovely, and

198 PETROGRAD
they were all in deep mourning for the unburied
relative.
24 November.--This long wait is trying us a bit
high. There is literally nothing to do. V'e arrange
pathetic little programmes for ourselves. To-day I
shall lunch with Mr. Cunard, and sec the lace he
has bought: yesterday I did some shopping with
Captain Smith : one day I sew at Lady Georgina's
work-party.
Heavens, what a liI ! I realise that for years I
have not drawn rein, and I ara sure I don't require
holidays. 5Ioses was a wise man, and he knew
that one day lu seven is rest enough for most
humans. I always "keep the Sabbath," and it is
ail the rest I want. Even here I might write and
get on with something, but there is something
paralysing about the place, and my brain wou't work.
I can't even write a diary I Everyone is depressed
and everyone longs to be out of Petrograd. To-
day we hear that the Swedes have closed the
Haparanda line, and Archangel is frozen, so here
WC are.
Now I have got to work at the hospital. There
are 25,000 amputation cases in Petrograd. The
men at my hospital are mostly convalescent, but, of
course, their wounds require dressing. This is never
done in their beds, as the English plan is, but each
man is carried in turn to the "' salle des pansements,"
and is laid on an operating-table and has his fresh
dressings put on, and is then carried back to bed
again. I t is a good plan, I think. The hospital
keeps me busy all the morning. Once more I
begin to see severed limbs and gashed flesh, and

"SPEAKING ONE'S MIND ' 199

the old question arises, " Vhy, xvhat evil hath he
done ?" This war is the crucifixion of the youth
of the world.
In a way I am learning something here. For
instance, I have always disliked "explanations" and
"speaking one's lnind," etc., etc., more thau I can
say. I date say I have chosen the path of least
resistance in these matters. Here one must speak
out sometimes, and speak firmly. It isn't all
"being pleasant." One girl has been consistentlv
rude to me. To-day, poor soul, I gave her a sec,,l
sermon on out way back ff'oto church ; but, indeed
she has nulnerous opportunities in this var, and s]e
is wasting them all on gossip, and prejudices, and
petty jealousies. So we had a straight talk, and I
hope she didn't hate it. At any rate, she bas
promised amendlnent of lire. One hears of men
that " this war gives them a chance to distinguish
themselves." SVomen ought fo distinguish theln-
selves, too.
"' Hesper ! Venus ! were we native to their sp|endour, or in Mars,
We should sec this wor]d we lire in. fairest of their evening
stars.
Who couhl dream of wars and tumu|ts, hate and envy, sin ara|
spire,
Roaring London, raving Paris, in that spot of peaeeful light ?
Might we not, in looking heavenward on a star so si|ver fait,
Yearn and clasp out hands and murmur, ' Wouh| to God that
we were there !' "

Always when I see war, and boys with their poor
dead faces turned up to the sky, and their hands so
small in death, and when I see.wounded men, and
hear of soldiers going out of the trenches vith a
laugh and a joke to cut wire entanglements, knowing
they will not corne back, then I aln ashamed of

00 PETROGRAD

meanness and petty spite. So my poor young
woman got a "fair dose of it" this morning, and
when she had gulped once or twice I think she felt
better.
Yesterday one saw enough to stir one profoundly,
and enough to make small things seem small indeed !
It was a fine day at last, after weeks of black
weather and skies heavy with sow, and although
tle cold was itense the sm was shining. I got
into oe of the horrid little droshkys, in whieh one
sits on very damp eushions, and an " izvoztehik" in
a heavy coat takes one to the wrong address always !
The weather has been so thiek, the rain and
sow so constant, that I had not yet seen Petrograd.
Yesterday, out of the mists appeared golden spires,
and beyond the Neva, ail sullen and heavy with
ice, I saw toxvers and domes which I hadn't seen
before. I stamped my feet on the shaky little
carriage and begged the izvoztchik to drive a little
quicker. We had to be at the Finnish station at
10 a.m., and my horse, with a long rail that
embraced the reins every rime that the driver
urged speed, seemed incapable of doing more than
porter over the fl-ozen roads. I picked up Mme.
'_Pakmakoff, who was taking me to the station, and
we went on together.
At the station there xvas a long wooden building
and, outside, a platform, all frozen and white, where
we waited for the train to corne in. Mme. Sazonoff,
a fine well-bred woman, the wife of the Minister for
Foreign Affairs, was there, and "many others," as
the press notices say. The train was late. We
went inside the long wooden building to shelter

BLIND 01

from the bitter cold beside the hot-water pipes, and
as we waited xve heard that the train was coming
in. It came slowly and carefully alongside the
platform with its crunching show, ahnost vith the
creeping movement of a woman who carries some-
thing tenderly. Then it stopped, lts windows

were frozen and dark, so that one could see
nothing. I heard a voice behind me say, "The
blind are coming first," and ri-oto the traiu there
emne groping one by one young men with their

eyes shot out. They felt for the step of the
train, and waited bewildered till someone came to
lead them; then, with their sightless eyes looking
upwards more than ours do, they moved stumbling
along. Poor fellows, they'll never sec home; but
they turned with smiles of delight when the hand,
in its grey uniforms and fur caps. began to play the
National Althem.
These were the first wounded prisoners from
Germany, sent home because they could never fight
again--quite useless men, too sorely hurt to stand
once more under raining bullets and hurtling shell-
fire--so back they came, and like dazect ereatlres
they got out of the train, carrying their little
bundles, limping, groping, but home.
After the blind came those who had lost limbs--
one-legged men, men still in bandages, men hobbling
with stieks or with an arm round a eomrade's neck,
and then the stretcher cases. There xvas one man
carrying his crutches like a cross. Others lay
twisted sideways. Some never moved their heads
from their pillows. Ail seemed to me to have about
them a splendid dignity whieh made the long,

02 PETROGRAD
battcrcd, suflrig company into somc grcat
pagcant. I havc ncvcr sccn mcn so lcan as thcy
wcrc. I havc ncvcr sccn mc's check-boncs sccm to
cut through thc flcsh just whcrc thc closc-croppcd
bair on thcir tenplcs czds. I had ncvcr sccn such
hollow cycs; but thcy wcre Russian soldicrs,
Russia gcntlcncn, and thcy wcrc home agai !
I thc grcat hall wc grcctcd thcm with tables
laid with food, and sprcad with wine and littlc
prcscnts bcsidc cacb place. :rhcy kow how to do
this, thc priccly Russias, so cach maz got a
wclcoc to akc him proud. Thc band was therc,
ad thc log tables, thc hot soup ad thc cigarettes.
All thc mc had washcd at Tornco, and all of thcn
wore clca cotto waistcoats. Thcir hair was cut,
too, but thcir faces hadn't rccovcrcd. Oc kncw
thcy would cvcr be you" agai. Thc Gcrnans
had donc thcir work. Sci-starvatio ad womds
had nadc old mcn of thcsc poor Russiaz soldicrs.
All was doc that could bc donc to wclcoe thcm
back, but o oc could takc it i for a tinc. A
sistcr i black distributcd soznc littlc Tcstamcnts,
cach with a cross on it, ad thc soldicrs kisscd thc
symbol of suficrig passioatcly.
Thcy filed into thcir places at thc tables, and thc
strctchcrs were placcd in a row two dcep up the
wholc lcgth of thc roon. In the niddle of it
stood an altar, covcrcd with silvcr tinscl, and two
pricsts in tinscl and gold stood bcsidc it. Upo it
was thc sacrcd ikon, and thc evcrlastig Mothcr
ad Child smilcd down at the nc laid i hclplcss-
css and weakcss at thcir fcct.
A Gccral we|coned thc soldiers back; ad

NOUNDED RUSSIANS 05

vhe they were thanked in the naine of the
Emperor for what they had done, the tears coursed
down their rhin cheeks. It was too pitiful and
touching to be borne. I remember thinking how
quietly and sweetly a sister of mercy went from
one group of soldievs to another, sileutly givig
them handkerchiefs to dry their tears. We are ail
mothers now, ad our sos are so helpless, so lnuch
in need of us.
Down the middle of t-le room were low tables
t'or the men who lay dow ail the rime. They
sahlted the ikon, as Cl t]e soldiers did, and Solne
service began whieh I was una])le to follow. I
ean't tell what the soldiers said, or of what they
were thinking. About t]eir eomrades they said to
Mme. 'l'al«nakoff that 25,000 of them ]md died in
two days ri'oto egleet. We shall never hear the
worst perhaps.
There xvere three offieers at a table. Olie of
them was shot through the throat, and was
bandage& I saw him put all his food o one side,
unable to swallow it. Then a high offieial came and
sat down and drank his health. The oflleer raised
his glass gallantly, and put his lips to the wine, but
his throat was shot througl, he ruade a face of
agony, bowed to the great man opposite, and put
down his glass.
Some surgeons i white begau to go about,
taking nalnes and partieulars of the men's condition.
Everyone was kind to the returned soldiers, but
they had borne too mueh. Sonle day they will
smile perhaps, but yesterday they were silent men
returned ri'oin the dead, and hot yet certain that
their feet touehed Russia again.

CHAPTER I1

WAITING FOR WORK

WE paid our heavy bills and left Petrograd on
Monday, the 29th Novetnber. Great fuss at the
station, as out luggage and the guide had disappeared
together. A eomfortable, slowjourney, and Colonel
Maleohn met us at Moseow station and took us to
the Hôtel de Luxe--a shoeking bad pub, but the
only one where we eould get rooms. We went out
to lunch, and I had a plate of soup, two faens (little
wheat eakes), and the fifth part of a bottle of Grares.
This modest repast eost sixteen shillings per head.
We turned out of the Luxe Hotel the following
day, and came to the National, where four hundred
people were waiting to get in. But our guide
Grundy had influence, and managed to get us
rooms. It is quite eomfortable.
None of us was sorry to leave Petrograd, and
that is putting the case mildly. People there are
very depressed, and it was a case of" she said" and
"he said" all the rime. Everyone was trying to
snuff everyone else out. " I don't know them "
and the lips pursed up finished many a reputation,
and I heard more about money and position than I
ever heard in my lire belote. " Bunty" and 1 used
0

MOSCOW 05

to say that the world was inhabited by "nice
people and very nice people," and once she added
a third class, "fearfully nice people." That is a
world one used to inhabit. I suppose one must
make the best of this one I
21Ioscow. 2 December.--Hilda Vynne was rather
feverish to-day, and lay in bed, so I had a solitary
walk about the Kremlin, and saw a fine view fa'oto
its splendid position. But, somehow, I ara getting
tired of solitude. I suppose the war gives us the
feeling that we must hold together, and yet I have
never been more alone tban during this last eighteen
months.

To Jlliss ,'llacnaughtan's Sisters.
CRÉDIT LYONNAIS, IIOSCOW,
3 Decemb.
Mv Daas,
I have just heard tbat there is a man going up
to Petrograd to-night who will put out letters in tbe
Embassy bag, so there is some hope of this reaehing
you. It is really my Christmas letter to you all,
so may it be passed round, please, although there
won't be mueh in it.
Ve are now at Moseow, en route for the Caueasus
via Tiflis, and out base will probably be 3ulfa. We
have been ehosen to go there by the Grand Duehess
Cyril, but the reports about the roads are so
eonflieting that we are going to see for ourselves.
Vhen we get there it will be diffieult to send
letters home, but the banks will always be in
eommunieation with eaeh other, so I shall get all
you send to Crédit Lyonnais, Petrograd.
So far we have been waiting for out ears all this

06 WAITING FOR WORK
rime. They had to come by A rchangel, and they
left long belote we did, but they have hot arrived
yet. There are six ambulance cars, on board three
different ships (for safety), and no news of any of
them yet.
Now, at least, we bave got a more on, and,
barring accidents, we shall be in Tiflis next week.
It's rather a fearsome journey, as the train only
takes us to the foot of the mountains in four days,
and then we must ride or drive across the passes,
which they say are too cold for anything. You
must imagine us like Napoleon in the " Retreat
ri'oto Moscow" picture.
l)etrograd is a singularly unpleasant town, where
the sun never shines, and it rains or snows every
day. The river is fidl of ice, but it looks sullen
and sad in the perpetual mist. There are a good
many English people there ; but oue is supposed to
ktow the Russians, which means speaking French
all the rime. Moscow is a far superior place, and
is really most interesting and beautiful, and very
Eastern, while Petrograd might be Liverpool. I
filled up my rime there in the hospital and soup-
kitchen.
The price of everything gets worse, I do believe !
Even a glass of filtered water costs one shilling and
threepence! I have just left an hotel for which
my bill was :8 for one night, and I was sick nearly
ail the tilne !
Now, my dears, I wish you ail the best Christmas
you can have this year. I ara just longing for
uews of you, but I never knew such a eut-off place
as this for letters. Tell me about every one of the

"WHEN WILL THE WAR END ?"
family. XVrite lengthy letters. XVhen do
say the war will end ?
Your loving
SAnAH

07
people

"/'/is. 12 De«ember.--It is evening, and ! have
only just remembered itis Sunday, a thing l eaFt
reeolleet ever having happened before. I have been
ill in my room all day, whieh no doubt aeeounts
for it.
"Ve stayed at Moscov tbr a tv days, and lny
recollection of it is of a great deal of ShOW and
frequent shopping expeditions in cold little sleighs.
I liked the place, and it was infiuitely preferable to
Petrograd. Mr. Cazalet took us to the theatre one
night, and there was rather a good ballet. These
poor daneers! They, like others, bave lost their
nearest and dearest in the war, but they still have
to dance. Of course they eall thelnselves "The
Allies," and one sav rather a stale ballet-girl in very
sketchy clothes dancing with a red, yellow, and
black flag draped across ber. Poor Belgium! It
was such a travesty of her sufferings.
Mr. Cazalet came to sec us off at the station,
we began our long journey to Tiflis, but we changed
out lninds, and took the local train ti'om----to
Vladikavkas, whcre we stayed one night rather
enjoyably at a smelly hotel, and the following day
we got a motor-car and started at 7 a.m. ibr the
pass. The drive did us all good. The great ShOW
peaks were so unlike Petrograd and gossip ! I had
been rather fil on the train, and I got worse at the
hotel and during the drive, so 1 vas quitc a poor

208 VAITING FOR BrORK

Sarah when I reached Tiflis. Still, the scenery had
been lovely ail the rime, and we had funny little
meals at rest houses.
Vhen we got to Tiflis I xvent on being seedy for
a while. I tinished Stephen Graham's book on
Russia which he gave me beIbre I left home. Itis
charmingly written. The line he chooses is mine
also, but his is a more important book than mine.
Batottm. 22 1)e«ember.--Ve have had a really
delightful rime since I last wrote up the old diary !
(A dull book so far.) We saw a good many ina-
portant people at Ïiflis--Gorlebeff, the head of the
Russian Red Cross, Prince Orloff, Prince Galitzin
(a charming man), General Bernoff, etc., etc.
Mrs. Vyme's and Mr. Bevan's cars are definitely
accepted for the Tehral district. My own plans
are hot yet settled, but I hope they may be soon.
People seem to think I look so delicate that they
are a little bit afraid of giving me hard work, and
yet I suppose there are hot many women xvho get
through more work than I do; but I believe I ara
looking rather a poor specilnen, and my hair has
ihllen out. I think I ara rather like those pictures
on the covers of '" appeals"--pictures of small
children, underneath which is written, " This is
Johnny Snith, or Eliza Jones, who was found in
a cellar by one of out oflïcers ; veightage--etc.,
etc."
If 1 could have a small hospital north of Tehran
it would be a good centre for the wounded, and it
would also be a good place for the others to corne
to. Mr. Hills and Dr. Gordon (American mission-
aries) seem to think they would like me to join

RASPUTIN 09

theln in their work tbr tbe Arlnenians. These un-
fortunate people have been lmarly exterlninated by
massacres, and it has been officially stated that
75 per cent. of the whole race has been put to
the sword. This SOUllds awfifi enough, but when
we consider that there is no refinelnent of torture
that has hot been practised upon theln, then SOllle-
thing within one gets up and shouts for revenge.
The photographs which Gelmral Bernoff has are
proof of the devildom of the Turks, only that thc
devil could hot lmve 1)ecn so beastly, ad a bcst
could hot have been so devilish. The Kaiser has
convinced the 'l'urks tlmt be is now convertcd t'rOlll
Christianity fo 51ahomedanislu. In every nosque
he is prayed for tmder the title of" H;ijed 51ahomet
lVilhelln," and photographs of burned and ruined
cathedrals in France and Belgiuln are displayed fo
prove that he is now anti-Christial. Heaven knows
it doesn't want much proving !
There are rumours of peace offers from Gerlnany,
but we must go on fighting now, if only for the sake
of the soldiers, who will be the ones to suffit, but xvho
catt't be asked togive in. The Russians are terribly
out of spirits, and very depressed about the war.
The German influence at Court scares them,
and there is, besides, the mysterious Rasputin to
contend with! This extraordinary man seems to
exercise a malign influence over everyone, ad
people are powerless to resist him. Nothing seellS
too strange or too mad fo recount of this man and
his dupes. He is by birth a moujik, or peasant, and
is illiterate, a drunkard, and an immoral wretch.
Yet there is hardly a great lady at Court who has

10 WAITING FOl{ VORK
hOt corne under his influeJce, and Ie is supposed
by this set of persons to be a reineanmtion of
Christ. Rasputin's figure is one of those mysterious
ones round vhich every sort of rulnour gathers.
We left Tiflis on Friday, 17th Deeember, and
had rather a partie at the station, as our passports
had been left at the hotel, and our tickets had gone
off to Baku. However, the unpunetuality of the
train helped us, md we got off' all right, an hour
late. The train was about a thousand years old,
and vent at the rate of ten toiles an hour, and we
eould only get seeond-elass ordinary earriages to
sleep in! But morning showed us sueh lovely
seenery that nothing else mattered. One foulld
oneself in a semi-tropical eotmtry, with sort skies
and blue sea, and pahns and flowers, and with tea-
gardens on ail the hillsides. Vhen will people dis-
eover Caueasia . Itis one of the eountries ot" the
world.
We had letters to Count Groholski, a most
eharming young fellow, who arranged a delightful
journey for us into the mountains, and as we had
brought no riding things we begnn to seareh the
small shops for riding-boots and the like. Then, in
the evening we dined with Count OuliehetT, and
had ail interesting pleasant rime. Ïvo Japanese
were at dinner, and, although they eouldn't speak
any tongue but their own, Japanese ahvays manage
to look interesting. No doubt nmeh of that
depends upon being able to say nothing.
Early next day we motored out to the Count's
Red Cross ealnp at Here everyone was
sleeping under tents or in little wooden buts, and

GEORGIA 11

we met some good-mannered, niee soldier men,
most of them Poles. The scenery vas grand, and
we vere actually in the little kmwu and woderful
old kingdom of Georgia. Very little of itis left,
There are ruins all along the river of castles and
fortresses and old stone bridges now crumbling into
decay, but of the country, once so proud, only one
small dirty city remains, and that is Artvin, on the
mountain-side. It was too fill of an infectious sort
of typhus tbr us to go there, but we drove out to
the hospital on the opposite side of the valley, and
the doctor in charge there gave us bcds tbr the
night.
On Sunday, December 19th, I wandered about
the hillside, round some well-made trenches,
and saw some houses which had beeu shelled.
The Turks were in possession of Artvin only a
year ago, and there was a lot of fighting in the
mountains. It seems to me that the population of
the place is pretty Turkish still; and there are
Turkish houses with small Moorish doorways, and
little windows looking out on the glorious view.
In ail the mountains round here the shooting is
fine, and consists of toor (goats), leopards, bears,
wolves, and on the Persian front, tigers also. Land
can be had for nothing if one is a Russian.
On Sunday afernoon we drove in a most painful
little carriage to a village which seemed to be in-
habited by good-looking cut-throats, but there was
not much to see except the picturesque, smelly, old
brown houses. SVe met a handsome Cossack
carrying a man down to the military hospital. He
was holding him upright, as children carry each
15

1 WAITING FOR WORK
other ; the man was moaning with lever, and had
been stricken with the virulent typhus, which
nearly always kills. But what did the handsome
Cossack care about infection ? He was a moun-
taineer, and had eyes with a little flame in them,
and a tierce nloustaehe, l'erhaps to-morrow he
will be gone. People die like flies in these un-
healthy towns, and the Russians are supremely
eareless.
We went baek to the hospital for dinner, and
then went out into erisp, beautiful moonlight, and
motored baek to the Red Cross camp. I had a
little hut to sleep in, whieh had just been built.
I t eontained a bedand two chairs, upon one of
whieh was a tin basin ! The eold in the morning
was about as sharp as anything I bave known, but
everyone was jolly and pleasant, and we had a
eharming rime.
The Count told us of the old proud Georgians
when there was a famine in the country and a
Russian Governor came to oflr relief to the starv-
ing inhabitalitS. Their great men went out to
reeeive him, and said eourteously, " We bave hot
been here, Graeious One, one hundred or two
hundred years, but much more than a thousand
years, and during that rime we have hOt had a visit
from the Russian Government. We are pleased
to see you, and the honour you have done us is
suflieient in itself---for the test we think we will
hot require anything at your hands."
On Monday I motored with the others out to the
ferry; then I had to leave them, as they were
going to ride forty toiles, and that was thought too

TIFLIS 15
mueh tbr me. Age has no eompensations, and itis
not mueh use fighting it. One on]y ends by being
"a wonderful old woman of eighty ": remilfiseent,
perhaps a little obstinate, and in the world to eome
--ahvays eighty ?
Came back to Batoum with Count Stanislas
Constant, and went for a drive with him to see the
tea-gardens.
Christmas Eve at Tiflis, and here we are with
cars still stuck in the ice thirty mlles ri'oto Arch-
angel, and ourselves just holding on and trying hot
to worry. But what a waste of time l Also,
fighting is going on now in Persia, and we might
be a lot of use. We came back ri'oto Batoum in
the hottest and slowest train I have ever been in.
Still, Georgia delighted me, and I am glad to have
seen it. They have a curious custom there (thc
result ofgenerations of fighting), lnstead of saying
"Good-morning," they say "Victory" ; and the
answer is, " May the victory be yours." The
language is Georgian, of course ; and then there is
Tartar, and Polish, and Russian, and I can't help
thinking that the Tower of Babel was the poorest
joke that was ever played on mankind. Nothing
stops work so completely.
What will Christmas Day be like at home ? 1
think of ail the village churches, vith the holly and
evergreens, and in ahnost every one the little new
brass plates to the memory of beautiful youth, dead
and mangled, and left in the mud to await another
trumpet than that which called it from the trenches.
There is nothing like a boy, and ail the lire of

14 rAITING FOR WORK
England and the prayers of mothers have centred
round them. One's older friends died first, and
now the boys are falling, and from every little
vicarage, from school-houses and colleges, the
endless stream goes, all with their heads up, fussing
over their little bits of packing, and then away to
stand exploding shells and gas and bombs. No one
except those who have seen knows the ghastly tale
of human suffering that this war involves every
day. Down here 550,000 Armenians bave been
butehered in cold blood. The women are either
massaered or driven into Turkish harems.
Yesterday we heard some news at last in this
nlost benighted corner of the world I England has
raised four million volunteers. Hurrah ! Over
one million men volunteered in one veek. Freneh
takes eommand at home and Haie at the front.

To 3Ifs. Charles Young.
HOTEL ORIENT, TIFLIS,
5 December.
DalLI« 3.,
It seems almost useless to vrite letters, or
even to wiret Letters sometimes take forty-nine
days to get to England, and telegrams are aheags
kept a fortnight before being sent. We have had
eat diffieulty about the ambulance ears, as they all
got frozen into the river at Arehangel ; however, as
you will see from the newspapers, there isn't a great
deal going on yet.
I do hope you and all the family are safe and
sound. I wired to  for her birthday to ask
news of you 1, and I prepaid the reply, but, of

GRAND DUKE NICHOLAS 15

course, none came, so I am sure she never got the
wire. I have wired twice to , but no reply.
At last one gives up expecting any. I got some
nexvspapers nearly a month old to-day, and I have
been devouring them.
This is rather a curious place, and the climate is
quite good ; no snow, and a good deal of pleasant
sun, but the hills ail round are very bare and
rugged.
I have had a cough, xvhich I thik equals your
best efforts in that line. How it does shake one
upt I had some queer travelling xvhen it xvas at
its xvorst : for the first night we were given a shake-
doxvn in a little mountain hospital, which was fear-
fully cold; and the next night I was put into a
newly-built little place, ruade of planks roughly
nailed together, and with just a bed and a basin
in it.
The cold was wonderful, and since then---as you
may imagine--the Macnaughtan cough has been
heard in the land!
Yesterday (Christmas Day) xve xvere invited to
breakfast with the Grand Duke Nicholas. A Court
function in Russia is the most royal that you tan
imagineno hall measures about it I The Grand
Duke is an adorably handsome man, quite extra-
ordinarily and obviously a Grand Duke. He
measures 6 feet 5 inches, and is worshipped by
every soldier in the Army.
We went first into a huge anteroom, vhere a
lady-in-waiting received us, and presented us to
"Son Altesse Impériale," and then to the Grand
Duke and to his brother, the Grand Duke Peter.

16 WAITING FOR VORK
Some scenes seem to move as in a play. I had a
vision of a great polished floor, and many tall men
in Cossack dress, with daggers and swords, most of
them different grades of Princes and Imperial
Highnesses.
A great party of Generals, and ladies, and
melnbers of the Household, then went into a big
dining-room, where every imaginable hors d'œuvre
was laid out on dishes--dozens of different kinds--
and we each ate caviare or something. Afterwards,
with a great tramp and clauk of spurs and swords,
everyone moved on to a larger dining-room, where
there were a lot of servants, who waited excellently.
In the middle of the déjeuner the Grand Duke
Nicholas got up, and everyone else did the saine,
and they toasted us! The Grand Duke ruade a
speeeh about our "gallantry," etc., etc., and every-
one raised glasses and bowed to one. Nothing in
a play could have been more of a real fine sort of
seene. And certainly S. Macnaughtan in her
wildest dreams hadn't thought of anything so
wonderful as being toasted in Russia by the
I mperîal StaoE
It's quite a thing tobe tiresome about when one
grovs old !
In the evening we tried tobe merry, and failed.
The Grand Duchess sent us mistletoe and plum-
pudding by the hand of M. Boulderoff. He took
us shopping, but the bazaars are hot interesting.
Good-bye, and bless you, my dear,
Vours as ever,
S. 5IcNçwN.

HOMESICK 17

To ][iss Jdia I(eays-Yog.
HOTEL D'ORIENT» TIFLIS,
CAUCASUS RUSSIe,
27 December.
, DARIANG JENNY,
I can't tell you what a pleasure your letters
are. I only vish I could get some more from any-
body, but hot a line gets through ! I waut so lnuch
to hear about Bet and her marriage, and to know if
the nephews and Charles are sale.
There seems tobe the usual witer pause over
the greater part of the war area, but round about
here, there are the most awful massacres; 550,000
Armenians bave been slaughtered in cold blood by
the Turks, and with cruelties that pass ail telling.
One is quite impotent.
I expect to be sent into Persia soon, and mean-
while I hope to join some American missionaries
who are helping the refugees. Our ambulances are
at last out of the ice at Archmgel, and will be here
in a fortnight ; but we are hot to go to Persia for a
month. " The Front" is always altering, and we
never have any idea where our work will be wanted.
Vffe are still asking when the war will end, but,
of course, no one -knows. One gets pretty home-
sick out here at times, and there was a chance I
might have to go back to England tbr equipment,
but that seems off at present.
Your always loving

29 Decembe:l have still got a horrid bad
cough, and my big, dull room is depressing. We

°18 WAITING FOR WORk

are ail depressed, I ara atYaid. Being accustomed
to have plenty to do, this long vait is maddening.
Vhatever Russia may have in store for us in the
way of useful work, nothing tan exceed the boredom
of our first seven weeks here. Ve are just spoiling
for work. I believe itis as bad as an illness to feel
like this, and we won't be normal again for some
rime. Oddly enough, it does atTect one's health, and
H ilda Vynne and 1 are both seedy. Ve are
always trying to wire for things, but hot a word gets
through.
Ve were summoned to dine at the palace last
night. Everyone very charmilg.
1 1)e«ember.--l'rince Murat cmne to dine and
play bridge. Count Groholski turned up for a few
days. My doctor vetted me for my cold. Business
donenone. No sailor ever |onged for port as I do
for home.

CHAPTER III

SOME IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA

Ti3qis. I ,Ianuary, 1916.--Kind wishes from the
Grand Duke and everybody. Not such an aimless
day as usual. I got into a nev sitting-room and
put it straight, and in the eveniug ve vent to
Prince Orloff's box for a performance of "Carmen."
If vas very Russian and wealthy. Af the back of
the box were two anterooms, where we sat and
talked between the acts, and vhere tea, chocolates,
etc., were served. They say tbe Prince has £200,000
a year. He is gigantically fat, with a real Cossack
face.
Scandal is so rire here tbat it hardly seems to
mean scandal. They don't appear to be so much
immoral as non-moral. Everyone sits up late;
then most of them, I ara told, get drunk, and then
the evening orgies begin. No one is ostracised,
everyone is called upon and " known " vhatever
they bave done. I suppose English respectability
would simply make them smileif, indeed, they
believed in it.
2 January.I don't suppose I shall ever vrite an
article on war charities, but I believe I ought to.
A good many facts about them have corne my way,
19

__°0 IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA
and I consider that the public at home should
be told how the finances are being administercd.
I know of one hospital in Russia which has,
I believe, cost England £100,000. The staffconsists
of nurses and doctors, dressers, etc., all fully paid.
The expenses of those in charge of it are met out of
the funds. They livc in good hotels, and havc
"entertaining allowances" for cntertaining their
friends, and yet one of them hcrsclf voluntcercd the
int'ormatioc that the hospital is hot requircd. The
statf arrived wceks ago, but not the stores.
Probably the buildilag won't be opencd for some
time to come, and when itis opened there will
be difficulty i** getting patients to fill it.
In many parts of Russia hospitals are hot wanted.
In Petrograd there are rive hundrcd of them run by
l{ussians alone.
Thcn thcre is a fund for relief of the Poles, which
is administered by Princess-. The ambulance-
car which the fund possesses is used by the Princess
to take her to the theatre every night.
A great deal of money bas bccn subscribed for
thc bcnefit of the Armenians. Vho knows how
much this has cost the givers ? yet the distribution
of this large sum seems to be conductcd on most
haphazard lines. An open letter arrived the other
day for the Mayor of Tiflis. Thcre is no Mayor of
Tiflis, so the letter was brought to Major . It
said: "Have you received two cheques alrcady sent?
We bave had no acknowledgmcnt." There secms to
bc no check on the expenditure, and there is no local
organisation for dispensing the relief. I don't say
tiret it is eheating : 1 only say as nuch as I know.

ILL-BESTOWED CHARITY 21
A number of motor-ambulances were sent to
Russia by some generous people in England the
other day. They were inspected by Royalty belote
being despatched, and arrived in the tare of Mr.
SVhen their engines were examined it was
found that they were tied together with bits of
copper-wire, and even with string. None of them
could be ruade to go, and they were returned to
England.
Ve are desperately hard up at home just now,
and we are denying ourselves in order to send these
charitable contributions to the richest country in
the world. Gorlebeff himself (head of the Russian
Red Cross Society) has £30,000 a year. Armenians
are literally rolling in money, and it is common to
find Armenian ladies buying hats at 250 Rs. (£25)
in Tiflis. The Poles are hot ruined, nor do they
seem to object to German rule, which is doing
more for them than Russia ever did. Titlis p.eople
are now sending money for relief to Mesopotamia.
Of the 300,000 Rs. sent by England, 70,000 Rs.
have stuck to someone's fingers.
In Flanders there were many people living
in eomfort such as they had probably never seen
before, at the expense of the charitable publie, and
doing very little indeed all the rime: ears to go
about in, ehauffeurs at their disposal, petrol with-
out stint, and even their elothes (ealled uniforms
for the nonce !) paid for.
And the little half-erowns that eome in to run
these shows, "' how hardly they are earned some-
rimes ! with what sacrifices they are given I" A man
in Flanders said to me one day: "Ve eould lie down

o IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA

and roll in tobacco, and we ail help ourselves to
every blooming thing we want ; and here is a note
I round in a poor little parcel of things to-night :
' We are so sorry not to be able to send more, but
money is very scarce this week.'"
My own cousin brought four cars over to France,
and he told me he was simply an unpaid chauffeur at
the command of young oflicers coming in to shop
at l)unkirk.
I ara thankful to say that Mrs. Vynne and Mr.
Bevan and I have paid out own expenses ever since
the war began, aud gien things too. And 1 think
a good many of our own corps in Flanders used to
contribute liberally and pay for all they had.
People here tell us that their cars have ail been
commandeered, and they are used for the vives of
Generals, who never had entered one belote, and
who proudly do their shopping in them.
,Var must be a military matter, and these things
must end, unless money is to find its vay into the
possession of the vultures who are always at hand
when there is any carcase about.
5 January.--Absolutely nothing to vrite about.
1 saw Gorlebefl: Domerchekoff, and Count
Tysczkievcz of the Croix Rouge about my plans.
They suggest my going to Urumiyah in Persia,
where workers seem to be needed. The only other
opening seems to be to go to Count Groholski's
new little hospital on the top of the mountains.
Mr. Hills, the American missionary, wants me first
to go with him to see the Armenian refugees at
Erivan, but we can't get transports for his gifts of
clothing for them.

A PRESENTIMENT
Belote I left England I had a very strange,
almost an overwhelming presentiment that I had
better not corne to Russia. I had by that rime
promised Mrs. Vynne that 1 would colne, and
I couldn't see that it would be the right thing
to chuck her. I thought the work would
surfer if I stayed at ]mme, as she might find it
impossible to get any other woman who would pay
her own way and consent tobe away for so long a
rime. Out prayers are always such childish things
--prayer itself is only a cry--and ! remember
praying that if 1 was " meant to stay at home "
some substitute might be round for me. This
ail seems too absurd when one views it in the
light of what afterwards happened. My vision
of '" honour" and "work" seem for the moment
ridiculous, and yet I know that I was not so
foolish as I seem, for I got a written statement
from Mr. Hume V¢illiams (Mrs. Vynne's trustee),
saying, " A unit has been formed, consisting of
Mrs. Wynne, Miss Macnaughtan, etc., and it bas
been accepted by the Russian Red Cross." The
idea of being in Russia and having to look for
work never in my wildest moments entered my
head--and this is the end of the " vision," I suppose.
Russia Christmas Day.--Took a car and went
for a short run into the country. Weather fine and
bright.
There is severe fighting in Galicia, and the
rumour is that Urumiyah--the place to which I am
going--has been evacuated.
My impression of Russia deepens--that it is run
by beautiful women and rich men; and yet how

 IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA
charming everyone is to lneet ! Hardly anyone is
uninteresting, and half the men are good-looking.
The Cossack-dress is very handsome, and nearly
everyone wears it. Vhen the colour is dark red
and the ornaments are of silver the effect is
unusually good. They all walk wel]. One is
amongst a primitive people, but a remarkably fine
one !
10 January.--I ara taking French lessons. This
would appear to be a simple marrer, even in Russia,
but it has taken me three weeks to get a teacher.
The first to come required a rest, and must decline ;
the second was recalled by an old employer; the
third had too many engagements; the fourth came
and then holidays began, as they always do ! First
our Christmas, then the Russian Christmas, then
the Armenian Christmas, leading on to three New
Year Days! After that the Baptism, with its
holidays and its vigils
There is only one sort of breakfast-roll in this
hotel which is sort enough to eat; it is not made
on festivals, nor on the day after a festival. I can
honestly say we hardly ever see one.
Vith much fear and trelnbling I bave bought a
motor-car. No vork seems possible without it.
The price is heavy, but everyone says I shall be
able to get it back when I leave. All the same I
shake in my shoesa chauffeur, tyres, petrol, llleall
money all the rime. One can't stop spending out
here. It is like some fate from which one can't
escape. Still the car is bought, and I suppose now
I shall get work.
Are are all in the saine boat. Mrs. lVynne has

DIFFICULTIES 2°5

waited for her ambulances for three months, and I
hear that even the Anglo-Russian hospital, with
every naine from Queen Alexandra's downwards on
the list of its patrons, is in "one long difficulty." It
is Russia, and nothing but Russia, that breaks us ail.
Everything is promised, nothing is donc. Ïhe
only hope of getting a move on is by bribery, and
one may bribe the wrong people till one finds one's
way about.
13 January.--The car took us up the Kajour
road, and behaved well; but the chauflhur drove
us into a bridge o the way dovn, and had tobe
dismissed. Tried to go to Erivan, but the new
chauffeur mistook thc road, so we had to return to

Tiflis. N.B.--Another holiday
and he wanted tobe at home.
like did¢]icuities !
15 ,]anuary.-- Started again

was eoming on,
I a«tuaily used to

for Erivan. Ail

went well, and we had a lovely drive till about
6 p.m. The dusk was gathering and we were up
in the hills, when "' bang I" went solnething, and
nothing on earth would make the car move. We
unscrewed nuts, we lighted matches, ve got out
the "jack," but we could hot discover what was
wrong. So where vere we to spend the night ?
In a fold of the grey hills was a little grey village
just a fev huts belonging to Mahomedan
shepherds, but there vas nothig ibr it but to ask
them tbr shelter. Fortunately, l)r. Wilso knew
the language, and he persuaded the "" head man"
to turn out ibr us. His family consisted of about
sixteen persons, ail sleeping on the floor. They gave
us the clay-daubed little place, and fortunately it

26 IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA
contained a store, but nothing clse. The ShOW
was ail round us, but we made up the tire and got
some tea, vhich we carried with us, and finally slept
in the little place while the chauffeur guarded
the car.
In the morning nothing would make the car
budge an inch, and, seeing out diflïculty, the
Mahomedans made us pay a good deal for horses
to tow the thing to the next village, whcre we
heard there was a blacksmith. We followed in a
hay-cart. Ve got to a Malokand settlement
about 5 o'clock, and ibund ourselves in an extra-
ordinarily pretty little village, and were given
shelter in the very cleanest house I ever saw.
The woman was a perfect treasure, and ruade us
soup and gave us clean beds, and honey for
breakfast. The chauffeur round that out shaft was
broken, and the whole piece had to go back to
Tiflis.
It was a real blow, our trip knocked on the head
again, and now how were we fo get on? The
railway was 48 versts away, and the railway had
to be reached. Ve hired one of those painful
little earts, whieh are made of rough poles on
wheels, and, elinging on by out eyelids, we drove as
far as an Armenian village, where a snowstorm
came on, and we took shelter with a " well-to-do"
Armenian family, who gave us lunch and displayed
their wool-work and were very fi'iendly. Front
there we got into another " deelyjahns" of the
painful variety, and jolted off for about 25 toiles,
till, as night fell, we struek the railway, and were
given two wooden benehes to sleep on in a small

ERIVAN o7
waiting-room. Pcoplc came and wcnt all night,
and wc slcpt with onc cyc open till 2 a.m., whcn
thc chauffeur took a train to Tiflis. Vc sat up till
6 a.m., whcn thc train, two hours latc, startcd for
Erivan, whcrc wc arrivcd prctty wcll " cookcd "
at 11 p.m.
Erivan. 20 ,lanuary.--Last night's experiences
were certainly very "Russian." We had wired for
rooms, but although the message had been received
nothing was prepared. The niserable rooms were
an inch thick iii dust, there were no rires, and no
sheets on the beds I We went to a restaurant--
fortunately no Russian goes to bed earlyand
found the queerest place, empty save for a band
and a lady. The lady and the band were having
supper. She, poor soul, was painted and dyed,
but she ofered her services to translate my French
for me when the waiters could understand nothing
but Russian. I was thankful to eat sonething and
go to bed under my fur coat.
To-day we have been busy seeing the Arlnenian
refugees. There are 17,000 of them in this city of
30,000 inhabitants. We went from one place to
another, and always one saw the same things and
heard the same tales.
Since the war broke out I think I bave seen the
actual breaking of the wave of anguish which has
swept over the world (I often wonder if I can " feel "
much motel). There was Dunkirk and its
shambles, there was ruined Belgimn, and there was,
above all, the field hospital at Fumes, with its
horrible courtyard, the burning heap of bandages,
and the lnattresses set on edge to drip the blood off
16

8 IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA

them and then laid on some bed again. I can
never forget it. I was helping a nurse once, and
ail the rime I was sitting on a dead man and never
knew it!
And now I am hearing of one million Armenians
slaughtered in cold blood. The pitiful women in
the shelters were saying, " We are safe because we
are old and ugly ; ail the young ones went to the
harems." Nearly ail the lnen were massacred.
The surplus children and unwanted women were
put into bouses and burned alive. Everywhere
one heard, " Ve were 4,000 in one village, and
only 143 escaped;" " Tlere were 30 of us, and
now only a few children remain;" "Ail the men
are killed." These were things one saw for
oneself, heard for oneself. There was nothing
sensational in the way the wolnen told their stories.
Russia does what she tan h the way of "relief."
She gives 4½ Rs. per month to each person. This
gives them bread, and there might be rires, for
stoves are there, but no one seems to have the
gumption to put them up. Here and there men nd
women are sleeping on valuable rugs, which look
strange in the bare shelters. Most of the women
knitted, and some wove on little " fegir" looms.
The dullness of their existence lnatches the tragedy
of it. The food is so plain that it doesn't want
cookingbeing mostly bread and water; but
sometimes a few rags are washed, and there is an
attempt to try and keep warm. Yet I have heard
an English officer say that nothing pleases a
Russian more than to ask, "Vhen is there to be
another Armenian massacre ,v'

ETCHMIADZIN o 9
The Armenians are hated. I wonder Christ
doesn't do more for them considering they were the
first nation in the world to embrace Cristianity;
but then, one wonders about so many things during
this war. Oh, if we could stamp out the madness
that seems to accompany religion, and just lire
sober, kind, sensible lives, how good it would be ; but
the Turks must burn women and children, alive,
because, poor souls, they think one thing and the
Turks think another! And men and women are
hating and killing each other because Christ, says
one, had a nature both human and divine, and, says
another, the tvo were merged in one. And a
third says that Christ was equal to the Father,
while a wlole Church separated itself on the
question of Sabellianism, or " The Procession of
the Son."
Poor Christ, once crucified, and now dismembered
by your own disciples, are you glad you came to
earth, or do you still think God forsook you, and
did you, too, die an unbeliever . The crucifixio
will never be understood until men know that its
worst agony consisted in the disbelief which first of
all doubts God and then must, by all reason, doubt
itself. The resurrection cornes when we discover
that we are God and He is us.
21 January.--To-day, I drove out to Etchmiad-
zin with 5If. Lazarienne, an Armenian, to see that
curious little place. Itis the ecclesiastical city of
Armenia--its little Rome, where the Catholicus
lires. He was ill, but a charming Bishop--Varde-
pett by name--with a flowing brown beard and
long black silk hood, ruade us welcome and gave us

30 IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA

lunch, and then showed us the hospital--which had
no open windows, and smelt horrible--and the
lovely little third-century "temple." Then he took
us round the strange, quiet little place, with its
peaceful park and its three old brown churches,
which mark what must once have been a great city
and the first seat of a national Christianity. Now
there are perhaps 300 inhabitants, but Mount A rarat
dominates it, and Mount Ararat is hot a hill. It is a
great white jewel set up against a sheet of dazzling
blue.
Hills and ships always seem to me to be alive,
and I think they bave a personality of their own.
Ararat stands for the unassailable. It is like some
great fact, such as that what is beautifid must be
truc. It is grand and pure and lovely, and when
the sun sers it is more than this, for then its top is
one sheet of rose, and it melts into a mystic hill,
and one knows that whatever else may "go to
Heaven" Ararat goes there every night.
We visited the old Persian palace built on the
river's cliff, and looked out over the gardens to the
hills beyond, and saw the mosque, with its blue
roof against the blue sky, and its wonderful cover-
ing of old tiles, which drop like leaves and are left
to crumble.
Ti2lis. 24 January.--I left Erivan on Sunday,
January 23rd. It was cold and sharp, and the
train was crowded. People were standing ail dovn
the corridors, as usual. Nothing goes quicker than
eight mlles an hour, nothing is punctual, nothing
arrives. The stations are filthy, and the food is
quite uneatable. I often despair of this country,

RUSSIAN SOCIETY
and if the Russians were hot out Allies I should
feel inclined to say that nothing would do them so
much good as a year or two of German conquest.
No one, after the first six months, bas been enthusi-
astic over the war, and the soldiers want to get
home. One young officer, 26 years old, has been
loafing in Tiflis for six months, and has at last been
arrested. Another took his ticket on eight succes-
sive nights to leave the place and never moved. A t
last he was locked in |ris room, and a motor-car
ordered to take him to thc station.
and was not heard of for three days, when his wife
appeared, and found ber husband somcwhere in the
town.
51rs. Wynne and 5If. Bevan have gone on ahead
fo Baku, but I must wait for my damaged car. A
young officer in this hotel shot himself dead this
morning. No one seems to mind much.
25 ,lanuary.--Last night I was invited to play
bridge by one of the richest women in Russia. Her
room was just a converted bedroom, with a dirty
wall-paper. The packs of cards were such as one
nfight see railway-men playing with in a lamp-room.
Our stakes were a few kopeks, and the refreshnents
eonsisted of one tepid eup of tea, without either milk
or lemon, and not a biscuit to eat. We all sat with
shawls on, as out hostess said it wasn't worth while
to light a tire so late at night. A niee little Prineess
Musaloff and Prinee Napoleon M urat played with
me. We were rieh in titles, but our shoulders
were eold.
I have not seen a single niee or even eomfortable
room sinee I left England, and although some

.32 IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA
women dress well, and bave pretty cigarette-boxes
from the renowned Faberjé, other things about
them are all wrong. The furniture in their rooms
is covered with plush, and the ornaments (to me)
suggest a head-gardener's house at home with " an
enlargement of lnother" over the mantelpiece ; or
a Clapham drawing-room, furnished during some
happy year when cotton rose, or copper was
cornered. In this hotel the carpets are in holes in
the passages, and there are few servants ; but I don't
fancy that the people here notice things very much.
I went to see Mme. one day in her new
house. The rooms were large and handsome.
There was a picture of a cow at one end of the
drawing-room, and a mirror framed in plush at the
other !
I must draw a "character" one day of the very
charming woman who is absolutely indifferent to
people's feelings. The fact that some humble soul
has prepared something for her, or that a sacrifice
has been made, or that one kind speech would
satisfy, does not occur to her. These are the people
who chuek engagements when they get better invita-
tions, and always I seem to see them vith expensive
little bags aud chains and Faberjé enamels. Men
will slave for such women--will carry things for
them, and serve them. They have " success" until
they are quite old, and after they have taken to
rouge and paint. A tired woman hardly ever gets
anything carried for ber.
26 January.--A day's march nearer home ! This
is the Feast of St. Nina. There is always a feast
or a fête here. People walk about the streets, they

ENFORCED IDLENESS

give each other rich cakes, and work a little less
than usual.
This hotel still keeps its cripples. Prince Murat
sits on his little chair on the landing. Prince
Tschelikoff has his healoE ail wrong; there is the
man with one leg.
Now Mlle. Lepnakoff, the singer, Musaloff, in
his red coat, and some heavy Generals are here.
We have the same food every day.
Perhaps I was pretty near having a breakdown
when I came abroad, and the enforced idleness of
this lire may have been Providential (ail my hair
was falling out, and my eyes were very bad, and
the war was wearing me down rather) ; but to sit
in an hotel bedroom or to porter over trifles in
sitting-rooms seems a poor sort of way of passing
one's rime. To test has always seemed to me very
hard work. I can't even go to bed without a pile
of papers beside me to work at during the night or
in the early morning !
Vhen the power of writing leaves me, as it does
fitfully and vithout xvarning, I have a feeling of
loneliness, which helps to convince me of what I
have always felt, that this power cornes from outside,
and can only be explained psychically. I asked a
great writer once if he ever experienced the feeling
I had of being "left," and he told me that some-
rimes during the rime of desolation he had seriously
contemplated suicide.
80 January.I got a telephone message from
Mr. Bevan last night. He says Baku is too horrible,
and there is no news of the cars. People are telling
me now that if instead of cars we had given money,

234 IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA
we should havc becn fCted and dccoratcd and
extollcd to thc skies; but then, where would the
money havc gone ? Last wcek the two rlchest
Armenian mcrchants in this town wcre arrcsted for
chcating thc soldicrs out of thousands of yards of
stuff for their coats. A Government official could
casily be round to say that the cloth had bcen
reccived, and mcanwhile what has thc soldicr to
cover him in the trcnchcs ?
Armenians arc certainly an odious set of pcoplc,
and their ingratitude is equallcd by thcir meanncss
and greed. 5Ir. Hills, who is doing the Armenian
relief work hcre, pays all his own expenses, and
hc can't gct a truck to takc his things to the
rcfigces without paying for it, whilc he is often
askcd the question, " Vhy can't you lcave thcse
things alone ?" Now that Mrs. Vynne has left I
ara asked the same question about her. Russia
can " break" one very successfully.
The weather has turned cold, and there is tearing
wind and snow.
1 F«bruary.--" No," says I to mysclf, in a
supremcly virtuous lnanner, "' I shall hot be bcaten
by this cnervating existence hcre. l'll do somethi:
if it's only sewing a scam."
So out came nccdles and cotton and mending
and hemming, but, would it be believed, I ara
afflicted with two "doigts blancs" (fcstercd fingers),
and have to wear bandagcs, which prevcnt my
doing evcn thc mildcst seam. Oddly cnough, this
"maladie " is a sort of cpidemic here. The fact is,
thc dust is full of microbes, and no one is too wcll
nourished.

,c)ME "MALADES IMAGINAIRES"o35
I am rather amused by those brave strong people
who "" don't make a fuss about their health." One
hears from them almost daily that their temperature
bas gone up to 103°; " but it's nothing," they say
heroically, " or if it is, it's only typhoid, and who
cares for a little typhoid ?" Does a head ache, there
is " something very queer about it, but "--pus|ring
back hair from hot brow--" no one is to worry about
it. It will be better to-morrow ; or if it really is
going to be lever, we must just try to make the
best of it." A sty in the eye is cataract, '" but lots
of blind people are very happy ;" and a bilious
attack is generally that mysterious, oft-recurring
and interesting complaint" camp lever." Cheer up,
no one is to be discouraged if the worst happens I A
thermometer is produced and shaken and applied.
The temperature is too low now; it is probably
only typhus, and we mean to be brave and get up.
a February.--Last night we played bridge. All
the princes and princesses moistened their thumbs
before dealing, and no one is above using a
"crachoir" on the staircasel Oh for one hour of
England ! In all my travels I have only round one
foreign race which seemed to me to be well-bred
(as I understand it), and that is the native of India.
The very best French people corne next ; and the
Spaniard knows how to bow, but he clears his throat
in an objectionable manner. None of them have
been lickedl That is the trouble. An Eton
boy of fifteen could give them all points, and beat
them with his hands in his pockets.
I am quite sure that the British nation is really
superior to all others. Ours is the only well-bred

O36 IMPRESSIONS OF TIFLIS AND ARMENIA

race, and the only generous or hospitable nation.
Fancy a foreigner keeping " open house "! Here
the entertainment is a glass of thickened tea, and
the sto-e is fi'equently not lighted even on a chilly
evening. Since I have been in Russia I have had
nothing better or more substantial given to me
(by the Russians) tha a piece of cake, except by
the Grand Duke. We brought heaps of letters of
introduction, and people called, but that is all, or
else they gave an " evening " with the very lightest
refreshmeuts 1 bave ever seen. Someone plays
badly on the piano, there is a little bridge, and a
salnovar !
6 February.The queer epidemic of "gathered
fingers" continues here. Having two I am in the
fashion. They make one awkward, and more idle
than ever. A lot of people corne in and out of my
sitting-room to "' cheer me up," and everyone wants
me to tell their fortune. Mrs. Vynne and 51r.
Bevan are still at Baku.
Last night I went to Prince Orlofffs box to hear
Lipkofskaya in "Faust."
My car has corne back, and is running well, but
the weather has been cold and stormy, with ShOW
drifting in from the hills. I took Mme. Derfelden
and her husband to Kajura to-day. Now that I
have the car everyone wants me to work with them.
The difficulty of transport is indescribable. Vithout
a car is like being without a leg. One simply can't
get about. In order to get a seat on a train people
walk up the line and bribe the officials at the place
where it is standing to allow them to get on board

CHAPTER IV

ON THE PERSIAN FRONT

8 Iaebruary.--A "platteforme" having been round
for my car, I and M. lgnatiefl" of the Red Cross
started for Baku to-day. W e fimnd out little party
at the Métropole Ilotel. Vent to the MaeDonell's
to lunch. He is Consul. They are quite eharming
people, and their little fiat was open to us all the
rime we were at Baku.
The plaee itself is wind-blown and fly-blown
and brown, but the harbour is very pretty, xvith its
erowds of shipping, painted with red hulls, whieh
make a niee bit of eolour in the general drab of the
hills and the town. There are no gardens and no
trees, and all enterprise in the way of tovn-planning
and the like is impossible owing to the Russian
habit of eheating. They have tried for sixteen
years to start eleetrie trains, but everyone wants too
mueh for his own poeket. The morals beeome
dingier and dingier as one gets nearer Tartar
influenee, and no shame is thought of it. Most of
the stories one hears vould blister the pages of
a diary. Vhen a house of ill-fame is opened it is
publiely blessed by the priest !
.s'vin. 18 Februars.We spent a week at
Baku and grumbled all the rime, although really
87

238 ON THE PERSIAN FRONT
we were not at all unhappy. The MacDonells
were always with us, and we had good gaines
of bridge with Ignatieff in the evenings. We vent
to sec the oil city at Baku, and one day we motored
to the far larger one further out. One of the
directors, an Armenian, went with us, and gave us
at his house the very largest lunch I have ever seen.
It began with many plates of zakouska (hors
d'œuvres), and went on to a cold entrée of cream
and chickens' livers ; then grilled salmon, with some
excellent sauce, and a salad of beetroot and cran-
berries. This was folloved by an entree of kidneys,
and then we came to soup, the best I have ever
eaten ; after soup, roast turkey, followed by chicken
pilau, sweets and cheese. It was impossible even to
taste ail the things, but the Georgian cook must
have been a " cordon bleu."
On February 16th one of the long-delayed cars
arrived, and we were in ecstasies, and took our
places on the steamer for Persia ; but the radiator
had been broken on the way down, and M rs. XVynne

was delayed again. I started, as my car vas
arranged for, and had to go on board. Also,
I round I could be of use to Mr. Scott of the
Tehran Legation, who was going there. We

travelled on the boat together, and had an excellent
crossing to Enzeli, a lovely little port, and then we
took my car and drove to Resht, where M r. and
Mrs. McLaren, the Consul and his wife, kindly put
us up. Their garden is quiet and damp ; the house
is damp too, and very ugly. There are only two
other English people (at the bank) to form the
society of the place, and it must be a bi.t lonely for

KASVIN

a young woman. I found the situation a little
tragic.
We drove on next day to this place (Kasvin), and
Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin xvere good enough to ask us
to stay with them. The big rires in the house
were very cheering after our cold drive in the SHOW.
The moonlight was marvellous, and the mountain
passes were beyond words picturesque. We passed
a string of 150 camels pacing along in the moonlight
and the snow. All of them wore bells which jingled
softly. Around us were the weird white hills, with
a smear of mist over them. The radiant moon, the
snow, and the èhiming camels I shal] never forger.
Captain Rhys Williams was also at the Goodwins;
and as he was in very great anxiety to get to
Hamadan, I otIered to take him in my car, and let
Mr. Scott do the last stage of the journey in the
Legation car to Tehran. ,Ve were delayed one
day at Kasvin, which was passed very pleasantly in
the sheltered sunny compound of the house. My
little white bedroom was part of the "women's
quarters " of old days, and with its bright tire
at night and the sun by day it was a very comfort-
able place in which to perch.
Hamadan. 24 February.--Captain Villiams and
I left Kasvin at 8 a.m. on February 19th.
I had always had an idea that Persia was in the
tropics, lYhere 1 got this notion I can't say. As
soon as we left sheltered Kasvin and got out on to
the plains the cold was as sharp as anything I have
known. Snow lay deep on every side, and the icy
wind nearly cut one in two. We stopped at a little
"tsehinaya " (tea-house), and are some sandwiches

240 ON THE PERSIAN FRONT
which we carried with us. I also had a flask of
Sandeman's port, given me last Christmas by Sir
I vor Maxwell. I think a glass of this j ust prevented
me from being frozen solid. XTe drove on to the
top of the pass, and arrived there about 8 o'clock.
iYe found some Russian ofl3cers having an excellent
lunch, and we shared ours and had some of theirs.
We saw a lot of gaine in the snow--great coveys
of fat partridges, hares by the score, a jackal, two
wolves, and many birds. The hares were very odd,
for after twilight fell, and we lit our lamps, they
seemed quite paralysed by the glare, and used to sit
down in front of the car.
re passed a regiment of Cossacks, extended in a
long line, and coming over the show on their strong
horses. We began to get near war once more, and
to see transport and guns. General Baratoff wants
us up here to remove wounded men when the
advance begins towards Bagdad.
The cold was really as bad as they make after the
sun had sunk, and an icy mist enveloped the hills.
We got within sight of the clay-built, fiat Persian
town of Hamadan about 10 p.m., but the car
couldn't make any way on the awful roads, so 1 left
Captain illiams at the barracks, and came on to
the Red Cross hospital with two Russian oftlcers,
one a little the worse for driuk.
¥ith the genius for muddling which the Russians
possess in a remarkable degree no preparations had
been ruade for me. Rather an unpleasant Jew
doctor came to the gateway with two nurses, and
the oftlcers began to flirt with the girls, and to pay
theln conpliments. Some young Englishmen, one

ARRIVAL AT HAMADAN

of whom was the British Consul, then appeared on
the seene, so we began to get forward a little
(although it seemed to me that we stood about in
the snow for a terrible long rime and I got quite
frozen I). As it was then past midnight I felt I had
had enough, so I ruade forithe American lnissionary's
bouse, which was pointed out to me, and he and his
wife hopped out of bed, and, clad in curious grey
dressing-gowns, they came downstairs and got me a
cup of hot tea. which I had wanted badly for many
hours. There was no fireplace in my room, and
the other rires of the house were all out, but the old
couple were kindness and goodness itsell; and in the
end I rolled myself up in my faithful plaid and
slept at their house.
The next day--Sunday, the 20th--Mr. Cowall,
the young Consul, and a M r. Lightfoot, came round
and bore me off to the Consulate. On Monday I
began to settle in, but even now I find it diffieult
to take my bearings, as we have been in a heavy
mountain fog ever since I got here. There is
a little English colony, the bank manager, Mr.
MacMurray, and his wifea capable, energetic
woman, and an excellent working partnerMr.
McLean, a Scottish clerk, a Mr. McDowal, also a
Seot, and a few other good folk ; whom in Seotland
olle would reckon the frmer class, but none the
worse for that, and never vulgar however humbly
born.
On Monday, the 21st, I called on the Russian
elelnent--Mme. Kirsanoff, General Baratoff, etc.
They were all cordial, but nothing will convince me
that Russians take this war seriously. They do

45 ON THE PERSIAN FRONT

the thing as comfortably as possible. "My
country" is a word one never hears from their lips,
and they indulge in masterly retreats too often for
lny liking. The tire of the French, the dogged
pluck of the British, se,cm quite unknown to them.
Literally, no one seems much interested. There is
a good deal of Mss about a "forward movement"
on this front ; but I fancy that at Kermanshah and
at  there will be very little resistance, and the
troops there are only Persian gendarmerie. No
doubt the most will be ruade of the Russian
"victory," but compared with the western front,
this is simply not war. I often think of the guns
firing day and night, and the Taubes overhead, and
the burning towns of Flanders, and then I find
myself living a peaceful life, with an occasional
glimpse of a regiment passing by.

To Mrs. Charles Percival.

BR]T]SH VICE-CoNSULATS»
H^MaDaN.
 3 Februar, 1916.
IIY DEAREST TABBY,
We are buried in snow, and every road is a
dug-out, with parapets of snow on either side.
All journeys have tobe me by road, and generally
over mountain passes, where you may or may not
get through the snow. One sees" breakdos" all
along the rous, and everywhere we go we have
to take food and blankets in case of a camp out.
1 have had to buy a motor-car, and 1 got a very
good one in Tiflis, but they are so scarce one has to
pay a ransom for them. I ara hoping it won't be

THE DIFFICULTY OF TRANSPORT

quite smashed up, and that I shall be able to sell it
for something when I leave.
Transport is the difliculty everywhere in these
vast countries, with their persistent want of rail-
ways; so that the most necessary way of helping
the wounded is to remove them as pailfiessly and
expeditiously as possible, and this can only be done
by motor-cars. Only one of Mrs. IVynne's am-
bulances has yet arrived, and in the end I came
on here without her and Sir. Bevan. I was
wanted to give a member of the Legation at Tehran
a lift ; and, still more important, l had to bring a
soldier of consequence here. So long as one can
offer a motor-car one is everybody's friend.
Yesterday I was in request to go up fo a pass
and fetch two doctors, who had broken down in the
snow. The wind is offen a hurricané, and I ara
told there will be no warm weather till May. I
look at a light silk dressing-gown and gauze
underclothing, and wonder why it is that no one
seems able to tell one what a climate will be like.
I have warm things too, I am glad to say, although
our luggage is now of the lightest, and is only what
we can take in a car. The great thing is tobe quite
independent. No one would dream of bringing on
heavy luggage or anything of that sort, except, of
course, Legation people, who have their own trans-
port and servants.
On journeys one is kindly treated by the few
Scottish people (they all seem to be Scots) scattered
here and there. Everywhere I go 1 find the
usual Scottish couple trying to "have things nice,"
and longing for mails from home. One woman
17

244 ON THE PERSIAN FRONT
was newly married, and had only one wish in
life, and that was for acid drops. Poor soul, she
wasn't well, and I mean to make her the best

imitation I can and send them to her. They make
their houses wonderfully eomfortable; but the
diffieulty of getting things! Another woman had
written home for her child's frock in August, and
got it by post on February 15th. Cases of things
coming by boat or train take far longer, or never
arrive at all.
I shall be working with the Russian hospital here
till out next lnove. There are 25 beds and 120
patients. Of course we are Olfly waiting to push on
further. The politieal situation is most interesting,
but I must hot write about it, of course. It is
rather wonderful to have seen the war from so
many quarters.
The long wait for the ears was quite maddening,
but l believe it did me good. I was just about
" through." Now I am in a baehelor's little house,
tull of terrier dogs and tobaeeo smoke ; and when I
ara hot at the hospital I darn soeks and play
bridge.
Now that really is all my news, I think. Empire
is not made for nothing, and one sees some plueky
lives in these out-of-the-way parts. I did hot take
a fancy to my host at one bouse where we stayed,
and something ruade me think his wife was bullied
and hOt very happy. A husband would have to be
quite ail right to compensate for exile, mud, and
solitude. Always my feeling is that we want far
more peopleespeeially edueated people, of course
to run lhe world ; yet we continue to shoot down

M[SSIONARIES AND RELIGION °45

our best and noblest, and when shall we
their like again ?

ever see

Always, my dear,
Vour loving
S. 11 t.CNAUOHTA N.

I hope to get over to Tehran on my " transport
service," and there I may find a nmil. Some
people called , living near Glasgow, bad nine
sons, eight of whom have been killed in the war.
The ninth is delicate, and is doing Rcd Cross
work.

26 February.--On Tuesday a Jew doctor took ny
motor-car by ri'and, so there had to be an enquiry,
and I don't feel happy about it yet. Vith Russians
any[ld»g may happen. I have begun to surfer froln
my chillsolne rime getting here, and also my lnouth
and chin are very bad ; so I have had to lie doggo,
and see an ancient Persian doctor, who prescribed
and talked of the mission-field at the saine rime.
I aln struck by one thing, which is so naïvely
expressed out here that it is very hulnorous, and
that is the firm and formidable front which the
best sort of men show towards religion. To all of
them it means missionaries and pions talk, and to
hear them speak one would imagine it was some-
thing betveen a dangerous disease and a disgrace.
The best they can say ofany clergyman (whom tbey
loathe) or missionary, is, " He never tried the
Gospel on with me." A religious young man means
a sneak, and one who swears freely is generally
rather a good fellow. IVhen one lires in the

46 ON THE PERSIAN FRONT
wilds I am afraid that one often finds that this view
is the right one, although it isn't very orthodox;
but the pi-jaw which passes for religion seems
deliberately calculated to disgust the natural man,
who shows his contempt for the thing wholesomely
as becomes him. He means to smoke, he means to
bave a whisky-peg when he tan get it, and a game
of cards when that is possible. His smoke is
harmless, he seldom drinks too much, and he plays
fair at all games, but when he finds that these harm-
less amusements preclude him from a place in the
Kingdom of Heaven he naturally--if he has the
spirit of a mouse--says, "AI1 right. Leave me
out. I am hOt on in this show."
27 Febr«ry.--On Sunday one always thinks ot
home. I ara rather inclined to wonder what my
family imagine I am actually doing on the Persian
ri'ont. No doubt some of my dear contemporaries
saddle me with noble deeds, but I still seem unable
to strike the "noble" tack. Even my work in
hospital has been stopped by a telegram from the
Red Cross, saying, " Don't let Miss Macnaughtan
work yet." A typhus scare, I fancy. Such rot.
But I ara used now to hearing all the British out
here murmur, " What cm be the good of this long
delay ?"
I am still staying at the British Consulate. The
Consul, Mr. Cowan, is a good fellov, and Mr.
Lightfoot, his chum, is a real backwoodsman, full
of histories of adventures, fights, "natives," and
wars in many lands. He seems to me one of those
headstrong, straight, fine fellows whom one only
meets in the vilds. England doesn't agree with

HOW NEWS TRAVELS IN PERSIA 47
them; they haven't always a suit of evening
clothes ; but in a tight place one knows how cool he
would be, and for yarns there is no one better, • He
tells one a lot about this country, and he knows
the Arabs like brothers. Their system of communi-
cating with each other is as puzzling to him as itis
to everyone else. News travels faster among them
than any messenger or post can take it. At Bagdad
they heard ri'oto these strange people of the fMI of
Basra, which is °-80 toiles away, within 25 hours of
its having been taken. Mr. IJightfoot says that
even if he travels by car Arab news is always
ahead of him, and where he arrives with news itis
known already. Telegraphy is unknown in the
places he speaks of, except in Bagdad, of course,
and Persia owns exactly one line of raihvay, eight
miles long, which leads to a totnb I
More important than any man here are the dogs
--Smudge, Jimmy, and tl,e puppy. Most of the
conversation is addressed to them. Ail of it is
about them.
28 February. .4 day on the Persia front.--
I wake early beeause it is always so eold at
4 a.m., and I generally boil up water for my hot-
water bottle and go to sleep again. Then at 14
eomes the usual Resident Sahib's servant, whom I
have known in many eountries and in many elimes.
He is always exaetly alike, and the Empire depends
upon him! He is thin, he is mysterious. He is
faithfifi, and allows no one to rob his toaster but
himself. He believes in the British. He worships
British rule, and he speaks no language but lais
own, though he probably knows English perfectly,

48 ON THE PERSIAN FRONT

and listens toit at every meal without even the
cock of an ear! He is never hurried, never
surprised. What he thinks his private idol may
know--no one else does. His master's boots--
especially the brown sort--are part of his religion.
He understands an Englishman, and is unmoved by
his behaviour, whatever it may be. I have met
him in India, in Kashlnir, at Embassies, in Consu-
lates, on steamers, and I have never known his
conduct airer by a hair's breadth. He is piped in
red, and let that explain him, as it explains much
else that is British. Just a rhin red line down the
len-eth of a trouser or round a coat, and the man
thus adorned is part of the Empire.
The man piped in red lights my tire every
morning in Persia, and arranges my tub, and ve
breakfast very late because there is nothing to do
on thrce days of the veeki.e., Friday. the Persian
Sabbath, Satm"day, the Jewish Sabbath, and
Sunday, the Armenian Sunday. On these three
days neither bazaars nor offices are open. Business
is ata standstill. The Consulate smokes pipes,
develops photographs, and reads old novels. On
the four busy days we breakfast at 10 o'clock, and
during the meal we learn what the dogs have done
during the nightwhether Jilnmy bas barked, or
Smudge has lain on someone's bed, or the puppy
" coolly put lais head on lny pillow."
About 11 o'clock I, vho ara acting as wardrobe-
mender to some very untidy clothes and socks, get to
work, and the young men go to the town and appear
at lunch-rime. We hear what the local news is, and
what 51r. blacSIurray has said and 5If. McLean

UNFINISHED ARTICLE ON PERSIA

thought, and sometimes one of the people from
the Russian hospital cornes in. About 3 we put
on goloshes and take exeroise single-file on the
pathways cut in the SHOW. At 5 the salnovar
appears and tea and cake, and we talk to the dogs
and to each other. We dress for dinner, because
that is our creed ; and we burn a good deal of wood,
and go to bed early.
Travel really means movement. Otherwise, itis
far better to stay at home. I am beginning to
sympathise with the Americans who insist upon
doing two cities a day. We got some papcrs
to-day dated October 2ôth, and also a few letters of
the saine date.

Ulnished "Article on Persia .found amo»g liss
]ff acnaughta n's papers.
Persia is a diffieult country to write about, for
unless one eolours the pieture too highly to be
reeognisable, itis apt to be uninteresting even
under the haze of the summer sun, while in winter-
time the country disappears under a blanket of
white snow. Of course, most of us thought that
Persia was somewhere in the tropies, and it gives
us a little shoek when we find ourselves living in
a temperature of 8 degrees belov zero. Ïhe rays
of the sun are popularly supposed to lninimise the
effeet of this eold, and a fortnight's fog on the
Persian highlands has still left one a believer in this
phenomenon, for when the sun does shine, it does
it handsomely, and, aeeording to the inhabitants, it
is only when strangers are here that it turns sulky.

o50

ON THE PERSIAN FRONT

Be that as it may, the most loyal loyer of Persia
will have to admit that Persian mud is the deepest
.and blackest in the vorld, and that snow and mud
in equal proportions to a depth of 8 inches make
anything but agreeable travelling. Show is
indiscriminately shovelled down off the roofs of
bouses on to the heads of passers-by, and great holes
in the road are accepted as the inevitable accom-
paniment to winter trafl3c.
In the bazaars--narrow, and filled with small
booths, where Manchester cotton is stacked upon
shelves--the merchants sit huddled up on their
counters, each with a cotton lahaf (quilt) over him,
under which is a small brazier of ougol (charcoal).
In this way he manages to remain in a thaved
condition, while a pipe consoles him for his little
trade and the horrible weather. Before him, in the
narrow alleys of the bazaar, Persians walk with
their umbrellas unfiarled, and Russians have put
the convenient bashluk (a sort of woollen hood)
over their heads and ears. The Arab, ha his long
camel-skin coat, looks impervious to the weather,
and women with veiled faces and long black cloaks
pick their way through the mire. Throngs of
donkeys, melancholy and overladen, their small
feet sinking in the slush, may be with the foot-
passengers. Some pariah dogs make a dirty patch
in the snow, and a troop of Cossacks, their long
cloaks spotted with huge snow-flakes, trot heavily
through the narrow lanes.
But it is not only, nor principally, of climate that
one speaks in Persia at the present rime.
Persia has been stirring, if hOt with great events,

THE YOUNG PERSIAN MOVEMENT 51
at least with important ones, and at the risk of
telling stale news, one must take a glance at the
recent history of the country and its people. It is
proverbial to say that Persia has been misgoverned
for yea's. Itis a country and the Persians are
people who seem fated by circumstances and by
temperalnent to endure ill-government. A ruler is
either a despot or a knave, and frequently both.
Any system of policy is liable, to change at any
moment. Property is held in the mmasy tenure of
those who have stolen it, and a long string of names
of rulers and politicians reveals the fact that most
of them have made what they could for thcmselves
by any means, and that perhaps, on the whole,
violence has been lcss detrimental to the country
than veakness.
The worst of itis that no one seems particularly
to want the Deliverer--the great and single-minded
leader who might free and uplift the country.
Persia does not crave the ideal ruler; he might
make it very unpleasant for those who are content
and rich in their own way. It is this thing,
amongst many others, which helps to make the
situation in Persia hot only difficult but almost
impossible to follow or describe, and itis, above ail,
the temperament of the Persians themselves which
is the baffiing thing in the vay of Persian reform.
Yet reform has been spoken of loudly, and again
and again in the last fiw years, and thc reformation
is generally known as the Nationalist or Young
Persian 5Iovement. To follow this 5Iovement
through its various ramifications would require a
c]uc as plain and as clear as a .golden thread, and

52 ON THE PERSIAN FRONT
the best we can do in our present obscurity is to
give a few of the leading fcaturcs.
The important and critical situation evident in
Persia to-day owes its beginning to the disturbances
in 1909. when the Constitutional Party came
into power, forcibly, and with guns ready to train
on Tchran, and when, almost without an effort,
they obtained their rights, and lost thcm again with
evcn lcss effort. . .
29 February.--Thc last day of a long month.
The snow falls without ceasing, blotting out every-
thing that thcre may be tobe seen. To-day, for
the first rime, I rcalised that thcre are hills near.
Mr. Lightfoot and I walked to the old stone lion
which marks the gateway of Ekmadan--i.e., ancient
Hamadan. I think thc snow was rather thicker
than usual to-day. Mr. Lightfoot and I wcnt to
Hamadan, plodding our way through little tramped-
down paths, with snow three feet deep on either
side. By way of being cheerful we went to see
two tombs. One was an old, old place, where slept
"the first great physieian " who ever lived. In it
a dervish kept wateh in the bitter eold, and some
slabs of dung kept a smouldering tire not burning
but smoking. These dervishes bave been carrying
messages for Germans. Mysterious, like all religious
men, they travel through the country and distribute
their whispers and messages. The other tomb is
ealled Queen Esther's, though why they should
bury her at Ekmadan when she lived down at
Shushan I don't know.
Vre ,aent to see Miss Montgcmerie the other day.

THE RETURN OF THE PILGRIM

She is an _American missionary, who has lived at
Hamadan for thirty-three years. She has sehools,
etc., and she lives in the Armenian quarter, and
devotes ber life to ber neighbours. Her language
is entirely Biblieal, and it sounds almost racy as
she says it.
There is nothing to record. Yesterday I eleaned
out my room for something to do, and in the
evening a smoky lamp laid it an inch thiek in
blacks. The pass here is quite bloeked, and no
one ean eome or go. The ShOW falls steadily in
fine small flakes. My car bas disappeared, with
the chauffeur, at Kasvin. l hear of it being sent
to Enzeli ; but the whole thing is a mystery, and is
making me very anxious. There are no answers to
any of lny telegrams, and I am completely in the
dark.
3 [arch.--I think that to be on a frozen hill-top,
with fever, some boils, three dogs, and a blizzard, is
about as near wearing down one's spirits as any-
thing I know.
5 'llar«h, Sunday.--In bed ail day, with the
ancient Persian in attendance.

The Return of the Pilgrim.
This is nota story for Sunday afternoon. It is
true for one thing, and Sunday afternoon stories
are hot, as a rule, true. They nearly ail tell of the
return of the Prodigals, but they leave out the
return of the Pilgrims, and that is why this parable
is hot for Sunday afternoon. I write it because I
never knew a true thing yet that vas hot of use to

someone.

54 ON THE PERSIAN FRONT

Most of us leave home when we are grown up.
The people who never grow up stop at home. The
journey and the outward-bound vision are the
signs of an active nfind stirring wholesomely or
unwholesomely as the case may be. The Prodigal
is generally aeeounted one of those whose sane
nfind demands an ourlet; but he lands in trouble,
and g'ets hungry, and COlnes baek penitent, as we
bave heard a thousand lnillion times. The Far
Country is always barren, the husks of swine are
the only food to be had, and bankruptcy is
inevitable.
The story has been aeeepted by many generations
of lnen as a picture of the world, with its tempta-
tions, its sins, its moral bankruptey, and its
ilhlsionary and unsatisfying pleasures. Preachers
bave always been fond of allusions to the husks and
swine, and the desperate hunger which there is
nothing to satisfy in the Far Country. The story
is true, God wot ; it gives many a man a wholesone
fright, and keeps him at home, and its note of
forgiveness for a wasted life has proved the salvation
of many Prodigals.
But there is ànother journey, far more often
undertaken by the young and by ail those who
needs must seekthe brave, the energetie, the
good. Itis towards a country distant yet ever
near, and it lies much removed from the Far
Country where swine feed. Its minarets stand
up against a elear and eloudless sky, its radiancy
shines froln afar off. Itis set on a hill, and the road
thither is very steep and very long, but the Pilgrims
start out bravely. They know the way! They

DISAPPOINTMENT ,55

carry torches! They have the Lighç within and
without, and " watchwords" for every night, and
songs for the morning. Some walk painfully, with
bleeding feet, on the path that leads to the beauti-
ful country, and some run joyously with eager feet.
Vhatever anyone likes to say, itis a much more
crowded path thatt the old trail towards the pigsty.
At the first step of the journey stand Faith and
Hope and Charity, and beyotd are more wondrous
things by far--Glory, Praise, Vision, Sacrifice,
Heroism, sublime Trust, the Need-to-Give, and the
Love that runs to help. And Solne of the Pilgrilns
--most of them--get there.
But there is a little stream of Pilgrims SOlne-
times tobe met with going the other way. They
are returning, like the Prodigal, but there is no one
to welcome them. Some are very tragic figures,
and tbr them the sun is for ever obscured. But there
are others--quite plain, sober men and wolnen,
some hulnorists, and some sages. They have
honestly sought the Country, and they, too, have
unfurled banners and lnarched on; but they have
met with many things on the road which do not
match the watchwords, and they have heard many
wonderful things vhich, truthfully considered, do
not always appear to them tobe facts. They have
called Poverty beautiful, and they have found it
very ugly; and they have called Money naught,
and they have found it tobe Power. They have
found Sacrifice accepted, and then claimed by the
selfish and mean, and even Love has not been ail
that was expected. The Pilgrims return. Their
poor tummies, too, are empty, but no calf is killed

56 ON THE PERSIAN FRONT

for them, there is no feasting and no joy They
stay at home, but neither Elder Son nor Prodigal
has any use for them. In the end they turn out
the light and go to sleep, regretting--if they have
any humour--their many virtues, which for so long
prevented them enjoying the pleasant things of
life.

3lm'et.--I lie in bed all day up here amongst
these horrible snows. The engineer cornes in some-
rimes and makes me a cup of Benger's Food. For
the test, I lean up on my elbow when I Call, and cook
some little thing--Bovril or hot milk--on my Etna
stove. Then I ara too tired to eat it, and the
sickness begins all over again. Oh, if I could leave
this place ! If only someone would send back my
car, which has been taken away, or if I could hear
where Mrs. SVynne and Mr. Bevan are ! But no,
the door of this odious place is locked, and the key
is thrown away.
I have lost count of rime. I just wait from day
to day, hoping someone will corne and take me
away, though I ara now getting so weak I don't
suppose I can travel.
One wonders whether there can be a Providence in
all this disappointment. I think hot. I just ruade a
great mistake coming out here, and I have suffered
fbr it. Ye gods, what a winter it has beendis-
ilhlsioning, dull, hideously and achingly disap-
pointing I
Itis too odd to thhk that until the war calne I
was the happiest woman in the world. Itis too
flmny to think of my house in London, whieh

MEMORIES OF HOME o57

people say is the only " salon "--a small " salon,"
indeed! But I can hardly believe now in my
crowds of friends, my devoted servants, my pleasant
work, the daily budget of letters and invitations,
and the press notices in their pink slips. Then the
big leetures and the applause--the shouts when I
eome in. The joy, almost the intoxieation of lire,
has been mine.
Of course, I ought to have turned baek af
Petrogradl But I thought all my work was
before me, and in Russia one ean't go about alone
without knowing the way and the language of the
people. Permits are diflàeult, nothing is possible
unless one is attaehed fo a body. And now [ have
reaehed the end--Per«ia ! And there is no earthly
use .for us, and there are no roads.

CHAPTER V

THE LAST JOURNEY

lIY car turned up at Hamadan on Match 9th, and
on the 13th I said good-bye to my friends at the
Consulate, and leff the place with a Tartar prince,
who cleared his throat from the bottom of his soul,
and spat luxuriously all the rime. The mud was
beyond anything that one could imagine. There
was a sea of it everywhere, and men waded knee-
deep in slush. My poor car floundered bravely and
bumped heavily, till at last it could move no more.
Two wheels were sunk far past the hubs, and the
step of the car was under mud.
The Tartar prince hailed a horse from some men
and flung himself across if, and then rode off
through the thick sea of lnud to find help to move
the car. His methods were simple. He came
up behind men, and clouted them over the head, or
beat them with a stick, and drove theln in front of
him. Sometimes he took out a revolver and fired
over the men's heads, making them jump; but
nothing makes thena really work. Ve pushed on
for a mile or two, and then stuck again. This
rime there were no men near, and the prince walked
on to collect some soldiers at the next station. It
was a wicked, blowy day, and I crept into a wrecked
0_58

ILLNESS AT KASVIN 59

"camion" and sheltered there, and ate some lunch
and slept a little. I wasn't feeling a bit well.
That night we only made twenty toiles, and then
we put up ata little test-bouse, where the woman
had ten children. They ail had colds, and coughed
ail the time. She promised supper at 8 o'clock, but
kept us waiting till 10 p.m., and then a terrible
repast of barrer appeared in a big tin dish, and
everyone except me ate it, and everyone drank my
wine. Then six children and their parents lay in one
tiny room, and I and a nurse occupied the hot
supper-room, and thus we lay until the cold morning
came, and I felt very ill.
So the day began, and it did hot improve. I was
sick ail the time until I could neither think nor see.
The poor prince could do nothing, of course.
At last we came to a rest-house, and I felt I
could go no further. I was quite unconscious for a
time. Then they told me it was only two hours to
Kasvin, and somehow they got me on board the
motor-car, and the horrible journey began again.
Every rime the car bumped I was sick. Of course
we punctured a tyre, which delayed us, and when we
got into Kasvin it was 9 o'clock. The Tartar lifted
me out of the car, and I had been told that I might
put up ata room belonging to Dr. Smitkin, but
where it was I had no idea, and I knew there would
be no one there. So I plucked up courage to go to
the only English people in the place--the Goodwins,
with whom I had stayed on my way up--and ask
for a bed. This I did, and they let me spread
my eamp-bed in his little sitting-room. I was
iii indeed, and aching in every bone.
18

O60 THE I,AST JOURNEY

The next day I had to go to Smitkin's room. It
was an absolutely bare apartment, but someone
spread my bed for me, and there were some Red
Cross nurses who all offered to do things. The one
thing I wanted was food, and this they could only
get at the soldiers' mess two miles away. So all I
had was one tin of sweet Swiss milk. The day
after this I decided I must quit, whatever happened,
and get to Tehran, where there are hotels. After
one night there I was taken to a hospital. I was
alone in Persia, in a Russian hospital, where few
people even spoke French !
On March 19th an English doctor rescued me.
He heard I was ill, and came to see me, and took
me off tobe with his wife at lais own home at
the Legation. I shall never forger it as long
as I live--the blessed change from dirty glasses and
tin basins and a rocky bed! Vhat does illness
marrer with a pretty room, and kindness showered
on one, and everything clean and fragrant ? I have
a little sitting-room, where my meals are served,
and 1 have a tire, a bath, and a garden to sit in.
God bless these good people !

To Lady Clémentine ll.aring.
BrtTSH LEGtTO» TEHRAN»
oo_ _lllarch.
DARLNG CLEMMIE,
I am coming home, having fallen sick. Do
you know, I was thinking about you so much the
other night, for you told me that if ever I xvas really
"down and out" you would know. So I wondered
if, about a week ago, you saw a poor small person

A LETTER FROM TEHRAN o61

(who. has shrunk to about hall her size !) in an empty
room, feeling worth nothing at ail, and getting
nothing to eat and no attention I Persia isn't the
country to be iii in. I was taken to the Russian
hospital--which is an experience I don't want
to repeat l--but nov I am in the hands of the
Legation doctor, and he is going to nurse me till I
am well enough to go home.
There are no railways in this country, except one
of eight toiles to a tombl Hence we ail have
to flounder about on awful roads in motor-cars,
which break down and bave to be dug out, and
always collapse at the wrong lnoment, so we have
to stay out ail night.
You thought Persia was in the tropics ? So did
Il I have been in deep snow ail the rime till
I came here.
I think the campaign here is nearly over. It
might have been a lot bigger, for the Germans
vere bribing like mad, but you can't make a
Persian wake up.
Ever, dear Clemmie,
Your loving
S. [ACNAUGHTAN.

So nice to know you think of me, as I "know you
do.

26 larch.--I am getting stronger, and the days
are bright. As a great treat I have been allowed
to go to church this morning, the first I have been
to sinee Petrograd.

6 THE LAST JOURNEY

To Miss Julia

Iie a lj s- [Io u n g.
BRITISH LE6ATION, TEHRAN.
1 April.

DARLING JENNY,
In case you want

to make plans about
leave, etc., will you come and stop with me when
first I get home, say about the 5th or 6th May, 1
ean't say to a day . It will be nice to see you all
and have a holiday, and then I hope to come out to
Russia again. Did I tell you I have been ill, but
al]il now being nursed by a delightful English
doetor and his wife, and getting the most ideal
attention, and medicines ehanged at every change
in the health of the patient.
l've missed everything here. I was to be
presented to the Shah, etc., etc., and to have gone
to the reeeption on his birthday. All the rime l've
lain in bed or in the garden, but as I haven't felt
up to anything else I haven't fashed, and the Shah
must do wanting me for the present.
The flowers here are just like England, primroses
and violets and Lent lilies, but I'm sure the trees
are further out at home.
Your most loving
AUNT SALLY.

CONVALESCENCE

265

drive of 300 miles over fearful roads and a chain of
mountains always under snow. Then I have to
cross the lumpy Caspian Sea, and I shall rest at
Baku two nights before beginning the four days
journey to Petrograd. After that the fun really
begins, as one always loses all one's luggage in
Finland, and one finishes up with the North Sea.
Vhat do you think of that, my cat ?
Dr. Neligan is still looking affer me quite
splendidly, and I never drank so much medicine in
my life. No fees or money can repay the dear man.
Tehran is the most prinitive place ! You can't,
for instance, get one scrap of flannel, and if a bit of
bacon cornes into the town there is a stampede for

it. People get their wine
bottle pareels.

from England in two-

Yours as ever,
S.

Tehran. lpril.--The days pass peaeefully and
even quickly, which is odd, for they are singularly
idle. I get up about 11 a.m., and am pretty tired
when dressing is finished. Then I sit in the garden
and have my lunch there, and affer lunch I lie down
for an hour. Present!y tea comes; I watch the
Neligans start for their ride, and already I wonder
if I was ever strong and rode !
It is such an odd jump I have taken. At home
I driffed on, never feeling older, hardly counting
birthdays--always brisk, and getting through a heap
of work--beginning my day early and ending it
late. And now there is a great gulf dividing me
from youth and old rimes, and it is filled with dead
people whom I can't forger.

6¢ TIIE LAST JOURNEY

In the marrer of dying one doesn't interfere with
Providence, but it seems to me that now would be
rather an appropriate rime to depart. I wish I
could give my life for some boy who would like to
live very much, and to whom all things are ioyous.
But alasl one can't swop lives like this--at least, I
don't see the chance of doing so.
I should like to have "left the party "--quitted
the feast of life--when all was gay and amusing.
I should bave been sorry to "corne away, but it
would bave been far better than being left till all
the lights are out. I could bave said truly to the
Giver of the feast, "Thanks for an excellent rime."
But now so many of the guests have leff, and the
rires are going out, and I am tired.

END OF THE DIARY.

The rest of the story is soon told.
Miss Macnaughtan leff Tehran about the middle
of April. The l'ersian hot weather was approach-
ing, and it would have been impossible for her to
travel any later in the season. The long journey
seemed a sufficiently hazardous undertaking for a
person in ber weak state of health, but in Dr.
Neligan's opinion she would have run an even
greater risk by remailfing in Persia during the hot
weather.
Dr. Neligan's goodness and kindness to Miss
Macnaughtan will always be remembered by ber
family, and he seems to have taken an enormous
amount of trouble to make arrangements for her
journey home. He round an escort for ber in the

STARTING FOR HOME 65
shape of an English missionary who was going to
Pctrograd, and gave hcr a pass which cnablcd hcr
to travcl as expcditiously as possible. The authori-
ties wcre hot allowed to dclay or hinder hcr. She
was much too ill to stop for anything, and drove
night and day--even through a cholera village--to
the shores of the Caspian Sea.
We know very few details concerning the journey
home, and 1 think my aunt herself did hot remember
nmch about it. One can hardly bear to think of
the suffering it caused her. A few incidents stood
out in her memory ff'oto the indeterminate recollcc-
tion of pain and discomfort in which most of the
expedition was mercifully veiled, and we learnt
them after she returned.
There was the occasion when she reached the
port on the Caspian Sea one hour after the English
boat had sailed. She called it the "English" boat,
but whether it could have belonged to an English
company, or was merely the usual boat run in
connection with the train service to England, I do
hot knov. A " Russian '" vessel was due to leave
in a couple of hours' rime, but for some reason Miss
Maenaughtan vas obliged to walk three-quarters
of a toile to get permission to go by it. We can
never forger her piteous description of hov she
staggered and crawled to the of Iiee and back, so iii
that only her iron strength of will could force her
tired body to accomplish the distance. She
obtained the necessary sanction, and started forth
once more upon her way.
She stayed for a week at the British Embassy in
Perron-ad, vhere her eseort was obliged to leave

66 THE LAST JOURNEY
her, so the rest of the journey was undertaken
alone.
Ve know nothing of how she got to Helsingfors,
but I believe it was at that place that she had to
walk some considerable distance over a frozen lake
to reach the ship. She was hobbling along, leaning
heavily on two sticks, and just as she stumbled and
almost fell, a young Englishman came up and
offered ber his arm.
In an old diary, written years belote in the
Argentine, during a rime when Miss Macnaughtan
was faced with what seemed overvhelming difli-
culties, and when she had in her charge a very sick
man. a kind stranger came to the rescue. Her
diary entry for that day is one of heartfelt gratitude,
and ends with the words: " God always sends
solneone."
Certainly at Helsingfors some Protecting Power
sent help in a big extremity, and this young fellow
--Mr. Seymour--devoted himself to her for the
rest of the journey in a marvellously unselfish
manner. He could hot have been kinder to her if
she had been his mother, and he actually altered
ail his plans on arriving in England, and brought
her to the very door of her house in Norfolk Street.
'Without his help I sometimes vonder whether my
aunt vould have succeeded in reaching home, and
her own gratitude to him knew no bounds. She
used to say that in her experience if people vere in
a difficulty and wanted help they ought to go fo a
young man for it. She said that young men were
the kindest members of the human race.
It was on the 8th of May that Miss Macnaughtan

ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND

reached home, and her travels were over for good
and all. One is only thankful that the last weeks
of her life were not spent in a foreign land but
among her own people, surrounded by all the
eare and eomfort that love eould supply. Two of
her sisters were with her always, and her house was
thronged with visitors, who had to vait their turn
of a few minutes by her bedside, whieh, alasl were
all that her strength allowed.
She was nursed night and day by her devoted
maid, Mary King, as she did not wish to bave a
professional nurse ; but no skill or eare eould save
ber. The seeds of ber illness had probably been
sown some years before, during a shooting trip in
Kashmir, and the hard work and strain of the first
year of the war had weakened her powers of
resistanee. But it was Russia that killed her.
Before she went there many of her friends urged
her to give up the expedition. Her maid had a pre-
monition that the enterprise would end in disaster,
and had begged her mistress to stay at home.
" I feel sure you will never return alive ma'ara,"
she had urged, and Miss 51aenaughtan's first words
to her old servant on her return were : "l'ou were
right, Mary. Russia has killed me."
Miss Maenaughtan rallied a little in June, and was
oeeasionally earried down to ber library for a few
hours in the afternoon, but even that amount of
exertion was too mueh for her. For the last weeks
of her life she never left her room.
Surely there never was a sweeter or more adorable
invalid ! I ean see her now, propped up on pillows
in a room filled with masses of most exquisite

68 THE LAST JOURNEY
flowers. She always had things dainty and fragrant
about ber. and one had a vision of pale blue
ribbons, and sort laces, and lovely flowers, and
then one forgot everything else as one looked at
thc dear facé framed in such sort grey hair. She
looked so fragile that one fancied she might be
wafed away by a summcr breeze, and I have never
scen anyone so pale. There wa not a tinge of
colour in face or hands, and one kissed her gently
ibr fear that even a caress might be too much for
lcr waniag stre«th.
Her patience never failed. She never grumbled
or ruade complaint, and even in the smallest things
her interest and sympathy were as fi'esh as ever.
A new dress worn by one of ber sisters was a
pleasure, and she would plan it, and suggest and
admire.
It was a supreme joy to Miss Macnaughtan to
hear, some rime in June, that she had received the
honor of being chosen to be a Lady of Grace of
the Order of St. John of Jerusalen. Any recog-
nition of ber good work was an unfailing source of
gratification to her sensitive nature, sensitive alike
to praise or blame.
She vas so wonderfully strong in her mind and
will that it seemed impossible in those long June
days to believe that she had such a little rime to
live. She managed all her own business affairs,
personally dictated or wrote answers to ber corres-
pondence, and was full of schemes for the redecora-
tion of ber house and of plans for the future.
I bave only been able to procure three of my
aunt's letters written after her return to England.

MISS MACNAUGHTAN'S LAST I,ETTERS °69

They were addressed to her eldest sister, Mrs.
ffolliott. I insert them here :

1» NORFOLK TREET,
P«u LANn, W.
Twsday.
/IY DEAREST OLD POOT,
How good of you to vrite. I was awfully
pleascd to see a letter from you. I have been a
fearthl crock since I got home, and I have to
lie in bed tbr six weeks and lire on lnilk diet for
eight xveeks. The illness is of a tropical nature,
and one of the symptoms is that ()e can't eat, so
one gets fearihlly rhin. I anl sonething over six
stone noxv, but I was very much less.
Ve were right up on the Persian front, and I
went on to Tehran. One saw some most iuterest-
ing phases of the war, and met all the distiuguished
Generals and such-like people.
The notice you sent me of my little book is
charming.
Your loving
S. B. M.

l» NORFOLK STREET,
PARK LANE, W.,
9 June.
DARLING POOT,
I must thank you myself for the lovcly
flowcrs and your kind lettcrs. I am sure that
people's good vishcs and prayers do one good. I
so nearly died !
Your loving
S. M.

70 THE LAST JOURNEY

17th June
Still getting on pretty well, but it is slov work.
Baby and Julia both in town, so they are eonstantly
here. I ara to get up for a little bit to-morrow.
Kindest love. It wa8 naughty of you to send

more flowers.

As ever fondly,
SARA.

As the hot weather advanced it xvas hoped to
nlove Miss Maenaughtan to the country. Her
fl'iends showered invitations on "dear Sally" to
corne and convalesce with them, but the plans fell
through. It became increasingly clear that the
traveller was about to embark on that last journey
from which there is no return, and, indeed, towards
the end lier sufferings were so great that those who
loved her best could only pray that she might hot
have long to wait. She passed away in the after-
noon of Monday, July 2¢th, 1916.
A few days later the body of Sarah Broom
Macnaughtan was laid to rest in the plot of g round
reserved for her kinsïolk in the churchyard at
Chart Sutton, in Kent. It is very quiet there up
on the bill, the great Areald stretches away to the
south, and fruit-trees surround the Hallowed Acre.
But even as they laid earth to earth and dust to
dust in this peaceful spot the booming of the guns in
Flanders broke the quiet of the sunny afternoon,
and reminded the little funeral party that they
were indeed burying one whose lire had been
sacrificed in the Great XVar.
Surely those who pass through the old churchyard

THE GRAVE IN CHART SUTTON 71

will pause by the grave, with its beautiful grey cross,
and the ehildren growing up in the parish will eome
there solnetimes, and will read and remember the
simple inscription on it:
" In the Great War, by Word and Deed, at Home and Abroad,
She served her Country even unto Death."

And if any ghosts hover round the little place, they
will be the ghosts of a purity, a kindness, and of a
love for humanity which are not offen met with in
this workaday world.

CONCLUSION

PERHAPS a review of her war work by an onlooker,
and a slight sketch of M iss Macnaughtan's character,
may form an appropriate conclusion to this book.
I stayed with my aunt for one night, on August
7th. 191. One may be pardoned for saying that
during the previous three days one had scarcely
begun to realise the war, but I was recalled
by telcgram from Northamptonshire to the head-
quarters of my Vohmtary Aid Detachment in
Kent, and spent a night in town en route, to get
uniform, etc. Certainly at my aunt's bouse my
eycs were opened to a little of what lay before us.
She was on tire vith patriotism and a burning wish
to help her country, and I immediately caught some
of her enthusiasm.
Every hour we rushed out to buy papers, every
minute seemed consecrated to preparation for what
we could do. There were uniforms to buy, notes
of Red Cross lectures to " rub up," and, .in my aunt's
case, she was busy offering her services in every
direction in which they could be of use.
Miss Macnaughtan must s.'urely have been one of
the first people to begin voluntary rationing. Ve
had the simplest possible meals during my visit, and
7

VOLUNTARY RATIONING °73

although she was proud of her housekeeping, and
usually gave one rather perfect food, on this occasion
she said how impossible it was for lier to indulge in
anything but necessaries, xvhen out soldiers would
so soon have to endure hardships of evcry kind.
She said that xve ought to be particularly careful to
eat very little meat, because there xvould certainly
be a shortage of it later on.
I recollect that there xvas some hitch about lny
departure from Norfolk Street on August 8th. It
did hOt seem clear xvhether my Voluntary Aid
Detachlnent was going to provide billets for ail
recalled members, and I relueluber my aunt's
absolute scorn of difliculties at such a rime.
"Of course, go straight to Kent and obey orders,"
she cried. " If you can't get a bed, comc back here :
but at least go and see what you tan do."
That was typical of Miss Macnaughtan. Difti-
culties did not exist ibr ber. Vhen quite a young
girl she ruade up her mind that no lack of money,
rime, or strength should ever prevent her doing
anything she xvanted to do. It certainly never pre-
vented her doing anything she felt she ought to do.
The war provided her with a supreme opportunity
for service, and she did not rail to take advantage of
it. Of her work in Belgium, especially at the soup-
kitchen, I believe it is impossible to say too much.
According to The Times, " The lady xvith the soup
was everything to thousands of stricken men, who
would otherwise have gone on their vay fasting."
Among individual cases, too, there were many
men who benefited by some special care bestowed
on them by her. There was one wounded Belgian to

274 CONCLUSION

whom my aunt gave my address before she leff for
Russia that he might have someone with whom
he might correspond. I used to hear from him
regularly, and every letter breathed gratitude to
"la dame 6cossaise." He said she had saved his life.
Miss Macnaughtan's lectures to munition-workers
were, perhaps, the best work that she did during the
war. She was a charming speaker, and I never
heard one who got more quickly into touch with an
audience. As I saw it expressed in one of the
papers " Stiffness and depression vanished from any
company when she took the platform." Her
enunciation was extraordinarily distinct, and she
had an arresting delivery which compelled attention
from the first word to the last.
She never minced the truth about the war, but
shoxved people at home how far removed it xvas
from being a "merry picnic."
"They say recruiting will stop if people know
what is going on at the Front," she used to tell them.
« I am a woman, but I know what I would do if l
were a man when 1 heard of these things. I would
do my dur,ndest."
All through ber life the idea of personal serviee
appealed to Miss Maenaughtan. She never sent a
message of sympathy or a gift of help unless it was
quite impossible to go herself to the sufferer.
She was only a girl when she heard of what
proved to be the fatal accident to her eldest
brother in the Argentine. She went to him by the
next ship, alone, save for the eseort of his old yaeht's
skipper, and a journey to the Argentine in those
days was a big undertaking for a delieate young

ZEAL TO HELP OTHERS 75
girl. On another occasion she was in Switzerland
when she heard of the dcath, it Northalnptonshire,
of a little lfiece. She left for Elglald the saine
day, to go and offer ber sympathy, and try to
colnfort the child's lnother.
" Vhen I hear of trouble I always go at once,"
she used to say.
I have known her drive in ber broughaln to the
most horrible slum in the East End to see what she
could do tbr a volnan xvho had begged froln ber in
the street--yes, and go there again and again until
she had done all that vas possible to help the sad
case.
It vas this burning zeal to help vhich sent her to
Belgiuln and carried her through the long dark
winter there, and it was, perhaps, the saine teling
which obscured ber judgment when her expedition
to Russia was contemplated. She was a dclicate
voman, and there did hot seem to 1)e lnuch scope
for her services in Russia. She was hot a qualified
nurse, and the distance from home, and the handi-
cap of her ignorance of the Russian language,
would probably have prevented ber organising
anything like comforts for the soldiers there as she
had done in Belgium. To those of us vho loved
her the very uselessness of her efforts in Russia
adds to the poignancy of the tragedy of the death
which resulted i¥om them.
The old question arises: " To what purpose is
this waste ?" And the old answer cornes still to

teach us the underlying lneaning and
what seems to be unnecessary sacrifice :
done what she could."

beauty of
"She hath

19

76 CONCLUSION

Indeed, that epitaph might fitly describe Miss
Maenaughtan's war work. She grudged nothing,
she gave lier strength, her money, lier very lire.
The precious ointment was poured out in the service
of lier King and Country and for the Master she
served so titithfidly.
I have been looking through some notices which
appeared in the press after Miss Macnaughtan's
death. Some of them allude to lier wit, ber
energy and vivacity, the humour which was "vith-
out a touch of cynicism "; others, to her inexhaus-
tible spirit, lier geniality, and the " powers of
sarcasm, which she used with strong reserve."
Others, again, see through to the faith and philos-
ophy whieh lay behind lier hulnour, " Seottish bi its
penetrating tenderness."
In lny opinion lny aunt's strongest eharaeteristie
was a dazzling purity of soul, mind, and body.
She was a person whose very presenee liffed the
tone of the conversation. It was impossible to
think of telling lier a nasty story, a "double
entendre" fell fiat when she was there. She was
the least priggish person in the world, but no one
who knew lier could doubt for an instant her
transparent goodness. I have read every word of
ber diary ; there is hot in it the record of an ugly
thought, or of one action that would not bear the
full light of day. About lier books she used
fo say that she had tried never to publish one word
whieh lier father would hot like ber to bave
written.
She had a trelnendous eapaeity for affection, and

SOCIAL CHARM 77

when she once loved she loved most faithfully.
Her devotio to her father and to her eldest brother
influeneed her whole lire, and it would have been
ilnpossible for those she loved to make too heavy
claires on her kindness.
Miss Maenaughtan had great social eharm. She
was friendly and easy to know, and she had a
wonderful power of finding out the interesting side
of people and of seeing their good points. Her
popularity was extraordinary, although hers was
too strong a personality to COmlnand ufivel-sal
affection. «kmolg ber fi'ieds were people ol' the
most varied dispositions and eireumstanees. 1)is-
tinetion of birth, position, or intellect appealed to
her, and she was always glad to meet a eelebrity,
but distinction was no passport to ber favour unless
it was aeeompanied by eharaeter. To her poorer and
hulnbler fi'iends she was kindness itself, and she was
extraordinarily stauneh in herfriendships. Nothing
would make her "drop " a person with whom she
had once been intimate.
In attempting to give a eharaeter-sketeh of a
person whose nature was as eolnplex as Miss
Maenaughtan's, one admits defeat from the start.
She had so many interests, so many sides to ber
eharaeter, that it seems impossible to prescrit them
all fairly. Her love of music, literature, and art
was eoupled with an enthusiasm for sport, big-
gaine shooting, riding, travel, and adventure of
every kind. She was an ambitious woman, and
a brilliantly elever one, and her elearness of percep-
tion and wonderful intuition gave her a quiek grasp
of a subjeet or idea. She had a thirst for knowledge

78 CONCLUSION

xvhich ruade learning easy, but hers was the brain of
the poet and philosopher, hot of the mathelna.tician.
Accuracy of thought or information xvas often
lacking. Her imagination led the way, and left her
with a pictnre of a situation or a subject, but she
was very vague about facts and statistics. As a
woman of business she was shrewd, with ail a
Seotchwoman's poxver of looking at both sides
of a bawbee before she spent it, but she was
also extraordinarily generous in a very simple
and unostentatious xvay, and ber hospitality xvas
boundless.
Miss Macnaughtan was almost hypersensitive to
criticism. Her intense desire to do right and to
serve lier fellow-beings animated ber whole lire. and
it seemed to lier rather liard tobe round fault with.
lndeed, she had hOt nmny faults, and the defects of
ber character were mostly temperamental.
As a girl she was unpunctual, and subject to fits
of indecision when it seemed impossible for her to
make up lier nfind one xvay or the other. The
inconvenience caused by her fi'equent changes of
rimes and plans was probably hot realised by her.
Later in life, when she lived so much alone, she did
not always see that difficulties which appeared
nothing to her might be almost insuperable to other
people, and that in laouses where there are several
members of a family tobe considered, no individual
tan be quite as free to carry out his own plans as a
person who is independent of family ries. But
when one remembered how splendidly she always
responded to any claire on her own kindness one
ibrgave her for being a little exacting.

RELIGIOUS VIEWS 279
Pcrhaps Miss Macnaughtan's grcatcst handicap
in lifc was hcr immense capacity for suffcring--
sufl'cring poignantly, unbearably, hot only for hcr
own sorrows but for the sorrows of others. Only
those who appcalcd to hcr in trouble kncw the
dcpth of hcr sympathy, and how absolutcly shc
shared the burdcn of thc grief. But pcrhaps thcy
did hot always know how shc agonised over thcir
misfortunes, and at what price her sympathy was
given.
My aut was a passionately religious WOlna,.
Her faith was the inspiration of her vhole lii, and
it is sale to say that from the smallest to the greatcst
things there was never a struggle between conscience
and inclination in vhich coscience was ot
victorious. As she grew older, I faucy that she
became a less orthodox member of the Church
of England, to which she belonged, but her love
for Christ and for His people never wavered.
As each Sunday came round during her last illness.
when she could hOt go to church, she used to say to
a very dear sister, " Now, J., we must have out
little service." Then the bedroom door was left
ajar, and her sister vould go dovn to the drawing-
room and play the simple hymus they had sung
together in childhood. And on the last Sunday,
the day belote her death, when the invalid lay.in a
stupor and seemed scarcely conscious, that saine
dear sister played the old hymns once more, and as
the sound floated up to the room above those who
watched there saw a gleam of pleasure on the
dying woman's face.
My aunt had no fear of death. There had been

280 CONCLUSION

a time, some weeks before the end, when her feet
had wandered very close to the waters which divide
us from the unknown shore, and she told her sisters
afterwards that she had ahnost seemed to see over
to the " other side," and that so many of those she
loved were waiting for her, and saying, "Come over
to us, Sally. We are ail here to welcome you."
Perhaps j ust at the last, when her body had
grovn weak, the journey seemed rather far, and she
chmg to earth more closely, but such weakness was
purely physical. The brave spirit vas ready to go,
and as the music of her favourite hymn pierced ber
consciousness when she lay dying, so surely the
words summed up ail that she felt or wished to say,
and formed her last prayer in death, as they had
been her constant prayer in life :
"In death's dark vale I fear no iii
With Thee, dear Lord, beside me ;
Thy rod and staff my eomfort still,
Thy Cross before to guide me.

"And so through ail the length of days
Thy goodness faileth never ;
Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise
Within Thy house for ever."

INDEX

Aberdare, 164
Aberstwyth, 164
Adinerke, 116 ; soup-kitchen,
82, 86, 157 ; bombardment, 139
Airships, German, over Antwerp,
5, 9; Dunkirk, 81; Furnes,
80 ; St. Malo-les-Baius, 55 ;
destroyed, 27, 194
Andrews, John, 171
Antwerp, 1 ; Hospital, 2 ; arrival
of wounded, 2, 3, 5, 12 ; siege,
3-21; reinforcements, 12, 16;
shelled, 18-21; retreat of the
Marines, 28
Arabs, rapid system of communi-
cation» 247
Ararat, Mount, 230
Armenians, massacres of, 209,
214, 217, 228; refugees, 227;
character, 234
Artvin, 211
Asquith, Raymond, 183
Australians, treatment of the
Turks, 177

Bagdad, 247
Bagot, Lady, 100; at St. Maie-
les-Bains, 49, 55 ; hospital, 104»
113, 114; arrival of wounded,
144 ; entertains tbem, 147
Bailey, Sister, 22, 24
Baku, 233, 237
Baratotf, General, 240, 241
Bark, M., Russian Finance Minis-
ter. 195
Barrow-in-Furness, lectures by
Miss Macnaughtan, 162
Bartlett, Ashmead, war corres-
pondent, at Furnes, 35
Batoum, 208, 213
Beau Garde," farm, 140
Bedford, Adeline Duches of, 59

Belgians, King of the, 141
Be.lians, Queen of the, visits the
tiospital at Fumes, 38
Benjanlin, Miss, 2, 20
Bernoff, General. 208, 209
Bessheim, the, 179
Bevan, Mr., at Furues, 80, 83 ;
Calais, 86; Nieuport, 151 ;
Christiania, 179 ; Stoekhohn,
180; Baku, 231,233
Bible, the, a Universal Human
Documeut, 101
Boulderoff, M., 216
Boulogne, 55 ; wounded at, 114
Bray, Mrs., 192
British mau-of-war, 125
Brockville, Mr., at Dixmude, 35
Brooke, Victor, 178
Buchanan, Sir George, Ambassa-
dor at Petrograd, 184
Buchanan, Lady Georgina, at
Petrograd, 184 ; soup-kitchen,
192 ; work-party, 196
Bute Docks, 171

Cabour hospital, 151
Calais, 83, 86
Cardiff, lecture by Miss Mac
naughtan, 164, 167-171
Cardiff Castle, 163
Carlile, Mr., 120
Caspian Sea, 265
Caucasia, 210
Cavell, Miss, execution, 186
Cazalet, Mr., 207
Chart Sutton, churchyard at, 270
Chenies, 160
Children wounded, 116, 118
Chimay, Countess de Caraman,
dame d'honneur of the Queen
of the Belgians, 139
Chisholm, Miss, 26, 63

o8 INDEX

('hristiania, 179
Churchill, Viuston, at Antwerp,
12, 16 ; Dunkirk, 44
C]arry, Mr. G., President of the
Cardiff Chamber of Trade, 170
Clegg, Mr., 105, 143
('litheroe, Mrs., 86, 93
Close, Miss Etta, barge, 97» 126»
135 ; work for the refugees» 140
('ocks» B'., 171
Cosut, ('ount Stauislas, 213
('ooper, Mr.  115
Coure, definition of, 24
('oveutry, Mr., 112
('cm'en, Mr. Consul at 1 [anmdau
241,246
('oxide, bombardnmnt of, 69 ;
rethgees af, 138
('rawlcy, Eustace, 178
Cunard, Mr., 198
('unliffe. Miss) 2
('urie, Mme.» at Furnes) 68
('yril, ()rand Duchess, 205

l)ecies, Lady, 55
l)eeker, Mrs., 26
l)euuiss, Colo,el, 164 ; speech at
the Bute Docks, 171
Derfelden, Mme., 236
Dick, Miss, 2
l)inant» atrocities of the Germans
at, 137
Dixmude 127 ; hombardment» 35»
39
Donnisthorpe, Miss» 2» 22
l)l'ogheda Lady, 97
Dunkirk, 25» 43» 57» 73» 86» 87»
94, ] 23, 151; arrival ofwounded,
44; bombs on, 81; condition
of the stion, 96; shelled by
the Germaus» 115

Elliot, Lady Eileen, at Boulogne,
58
Elliott, Maxine, 94, 97, 126
Euzeli, 238
Erivau, -.°°5, 
Etchmiadzin, 229

Ferdinaud, King of Bulgaria, 195
ffolliott, Mrs., letters from Miss
Macnaughtan, 181, 269, 270
Fielding, Lady Dorothy, 12, 26,
63
Findlay, Mr., 82

Fisher, S., 171
France, armament works, 149
French, Sir John, at Dunkirk, 44
Frere, Sir Bartle, at Furnes, 68
Furley, Sir John, 112
Furnes hospital, 33 ; arrival of
wounded, 37, 68; evacuated,
41, 43; hopeless cases, 46;
soup-kitchen, 60; shelled by
the Germans, 75, 86. 122;
bombs on, 80, 81
Fyfe, Miss, 43

Galicia, fightiug in, 223
Galitzin, Prince, 208
Gas, asphyxiating cases of, 114
145, 171
Georgia, 211 ; custom af, 213
German army, siege of Antwerp,
3-21; driven back, 10; two
regiments surrounded, 121 ;
atrocities, 126, 132, 137, 138 ;
throw ritriol, 144
Germany, preparations for war,
30 ; treatment of prisoners, 132
Ghent, 12
Gibbs, Mr., war correspondent, at
Furnes, 35
Gienst, Mme. vau der, 143
Gilbert, 34
Glade, Mr., 2
Glasgow, munition works, output,
149, 161; lectures by Miss
Macnaughtan, 163
Gleeson, Mr., 33, 35
Glover, Bandmaster, K. S., 170
Godfrey, Miss, 2
Goodwin, Mr. and Mrs., 239
Gordon, Dr., American Mission-
ary, 208
Gorlebeff, head of the Russian
Red Cross, 208, 221, 222
Graham, Stephen, book on
Russia, 208
Groholski, Count, 210, 218
Guest, Mrs., at Adinkerke, 119

Hamadan, 240 ; climate, 243, 247 ;
tombs, 252
Hambro, Mr. Eric, 182
Hanson, Dr., 2, 23
Hanson, Mr., Vice-Consul at Con-
stantinople, at Dunkirk, 151
Haparanda, 182
Harri-on» Mr. 164

INDEX

Haye, M. de la, 139, 140
Helsingfors, 266
Hermes, the, torpedoed, 43
Herslet, Sir ('ecil, Surgeon-
Gencral, at Antwerp, 9
Hills, Mr., American missionaD- ,
208, 222
Holland, Mr., 88
Hoogstadt, 87 ; woum|cd at, 121
Hope, A., 171
Howard, Lady Isobel, 181
Howse, Mr.» 164

Ignatieff, M., 237
lnvicta, the, 43, 52

Jecquier, M., 195
Joffre, Marshal, at Dunkirk, 44
Joos, Dr., 77 ; villa at Furnes, 48,
79
Joos, Mme., 77

Kajura, 236
Kasvin, 239, 259
Keays-You»g, Mrs., letlers fron
Miss Macnaughlan, 3, lO6, 166,
262
Keays-Young» Miss Julia, letters
from Miss Macnaughtan, 217,
262
Kit,g, Mary, 267; letters from
Miss Macnaughtan, 63, 109
Kirsanoff, Mme., 241
Kitchener, Lord, at Dunkirk, 44
Kluck, General von, at Mons, 138
Knocker» Mrs., 45, 68, 155

La Bassée, British casualties at,
107
Lampernesse, ehurch shelled, 67
La Panne, 87, 93, 97
Lazarienne, Mr., 229
Leigh, Lord, 94
Lennel, 163
Lipnakoff, Mlle., 233
Lightfoot, Mr., at Hamadan, 241,
246, 252
Lindsay, Harry, 183
Lloyd, Sir F., 162
Lloyd, George, 195
Logan, Miss, 87
Logette, Mrs., 72
Lombaertzyde, farm at, 138
Lombard, Mr., 190
1_/aitania torpedoed, 123

McDonahl, gunner, wounded,
118, 124
Macdonaht, Mr. Ramsay, 73
MacDoncll, Consul, at Baku, 237
Mcl)owal, Mr., 241
M«Laren, Mr. and Mrs., 238
M('Lean, Mr., 241,248
MacMurray, Mr., 241. 248
Macmtughtan, Lieut. ('oli b 14-1
Mac.aughtan, Sarah, at Antwcrp,
I; work in the ttospid, 8 ;
incentire to keep up, 17 ; leaves
Antwerp, 21; at ()stend, 22 ;
joins l)r. Munro's comoy, 25 ;
at Duukirk, 25, 43, 57, 73, 8; ;
St. Malo-les-Bains, "'-.," 49 ;
Furnes, :4-43, 4;, 57 ; flight to
l».periughe, 43 ; description of
the ruins of Nieul«)rt , 46, 152-
155 ; rcquest tbr trav(.lling-
kitchens, 51. 58; visits her
nephcv at Boulogne, 55-57;
srts a soup-kitchen, 59-61 ;
feeding the wounded, 61, 69 ;
"charette," 69; at the Villa
Joos, 72, 77 ; attemls a ('hurch
scr ice, 74 ; return to England,
83, 11l, 157, 267; at Raylcigh
I[oue, 85 ; soup-kitchen at
Adinkerkc, 86, ll;, 157 ; ill-
ness, 87, 104, 207, 245, 256,
59-_64, 267-270 ; at La Parera,
93, 111 ; publication of war
hook, II l difficulties in getting
ber passport, 112 ; at Boulognc,
114; presented with a car, 120 ;
at Poperinghe, 135 ; method of
relieving cases of poison g,
145, 171 ; lectures on the war,
160-174, 274; at Lemml, 163;
Cardiff Castle, 163 : Chevalier
de l'Ordre de Léopohl conferred,
167; journey to Russia, 179-
183 ; at Christiania, 179 ;
Stockholm, 180; Petrograd,
183-20¢, 265 ; waiting for work,
191-198, 218 ; studies Russian,
193 ; works in a hospital, 198 ;
at Moscow, 204 ; Tiflis, 208-
210, 214, 230 ; delicate appear-
ance, 208 ; at Caucia, 210 ;
enterined by the Grand Duke
Nicholas, 215 ; on the adminis-
tration of war charities, 219-
222; lesons in French, 224;

INDEX

buys a motor-car, 224 ; journey
to Erivan; 225-227; car breaks
down, 225 ; festered fingers,
234 ; at Baku, 237 ; Resht,
2;38 ; Kasvin, 239, 259 ; Hama-
dan, 240-257; a day on the
Persian front, 247-249; un-
finihed article OlX Persia, 249-
252 ; Rcturn of the Pi/grim,
253-256 ; Tehran, 260-264 ;
jouruey home, 264-266; at
llelsingfors, 266; appearauce,
268; appointed Lady of Grace
of tbe (rder of St. John of
.lerusalcm, 268 ; death, 270,
280; fmleral, 270; reriew of
her war work, 272-276; ideal
ofpersonal service, 274 ; sketch
of her character, 276-279;
religious views, 279
Malcohn, Colonel Ian, at Bou-
logne, 58; Petrograd, 183; at
Moscow, 204
Malokand settlement, 22(;
Manners, Lady Diana, 183
Marines, British, at Antwerp, 12,
16 ; retreat from, 28
Marines, Freueh, 165
Maxwell, Lady Heron, 185
Millis, General, 87
Mons, retreat from, 133 ; vision
133
Montgomerie, Miss, American
missionary at l lamadan, 252
Moorhouse, Rhodes, heroism, 129
Morgan, Mv., 8ô, 86
Morris, Dr., 2
Moscow, 204
Motono, M., at Petrograd, 195
Munitions, shortage of, 148
Munro, Dr. tlector, 12 ; couvoy,
25, 90 ; at Dixmude, 5 ;
knocked over by a shell, 49
Murat, Prince Napoleon, 218,
231, 233
Murray, Mv. Jobu, xii
Musaloff, Princess, 231

Needle, Mr., 164
Neligan, Dr., care of Miss Mac-
naughtan, 260, 263, 264
Neuve Chapelle, ruins of, 123
Neva, the, 200
Nçvinson, Mr., at Furnes, 38
Nicho!as, Grand Duke, 215

Nieuport, 71, 151 ; ruins of, 46,
123, 152-155
Nightingale, song of the, 155-157
Nightingale, Florence, 184
Northcote, Elsie, 182 ; death, 183

Ochterlony, gunuer, wounded,
118
O'Gormon, Mrs., 16
()ostkerke, Belgian "observateur"
killed at, 153
Orloff, Priuce, 208; appearance,
219
Ostend, 22, 24
Oulieheff, ('ount, 210

Page, Dr. de, 118
Parsons, Johnny, 192
Passport, diflïculties, 112
Percival, Mrs. Charles, letters
from Miss Macnaughtml, 65,
242-245
Perrin, Dr., 86, 87
Perry, Miss, 2
Persia, climate, 239, 249 ; railway,
247 ; system of administratiou,
251 ; unfinished article on,
249-252
Perryse, 63, 64 ; bombardment,
81 ; ruins of, 128
Peter, Grand Duke, 215
Petrograd, 183, 187, 206, 265;
climate, 194 ; number of ampu-
tation cases,. 198, return of
wounded pnsoners, 201-203 ;
number of hospitals, 220
Philpotts, Mr., 186
Pilgrim, Return of the, 253-256
"" Piuching," habit of, 98
Poincaré, M., at Dunkirk, 44
Polish refugees, at Petrograd, 192,
193
Pont, Major du, 138
Poperiughe, 43, 185-137 ; shelled,
116
Powell, Miss Hilda, xii
Prisoners, German, treatment in
England, 132

Queen's Hall, London, lecture by
Miss Macnaughtan, 162

Radstock, Lord, anecdote of, 197
Pmsay, Sir Villiam, on tbe
result of the war, 149

INDEX 85

Ramsey, Dr., 2, 22
lkndell, Miss, 2
RasI?utin , maligu influence, 209
Rayleigh House, 85
Reading, Mr. "Dick," 42
Rees, T. Vivian, 164, 171
Resht, 238
Rhondda Valley, 164
Richards, Alderman J. T., speech
at Cardiff, 167
Roberts, Lord, death, 63, 111
Rocky Mountains, 182
Rotsartz, M., 125 ; portrait of
Miss Macnaughtan, 104
Rushton Hall, Kettering, 160
Russian army, returu of wounded
prisoners to Petroga'ad, 201-203

St. ('lair, Miss, 12
St. Gilles, convent at, 22
St. hlesbahl, 150
St. Malo-les-Bains, 26, .19 ;
wounded at, 50
Samson, Commander, 88
Sarrel, Mr., 151
Sawyer, Mr., 112
Sazonoff, Mme., 200
Scherbatoff, Princess Hélène, 197
Scott, Lord Francis, at Boulogne,
.58
Scott, Mr., 238
Scott, Miss, 82
Secher, Mr., wounded, 49
Seymour, Mr., kindness to Miss
Macnaughtan, 266
Shaw, Bernard, 189
Sheffield, lecture by Miss Mac-
naughtan, 162
Shoppe, Lieutenant, 132 ; at
Nieuport, 153
"Should the Germaus corne,"
lecture on, 171-173
Sire, 178
Sindici, Mme, 83, 86
Slippers for the wounded. 66, 98
Smith, Cptain, 198
Smith, Mr. Lancelot, 182
Smith, Mr. Robinson, 171,173
Sïnitkin, Dr., 259
Sommerville, Mr. R., xii
Soup-kitchen at Adinkerke, 82,
97, 157 ; Furnes, 60
Spies, German, shot, 44, 186
Stanley, Miss, 2
Stanmore, Lord, 183

Stear, Miss, 4
Steen, Mme. vau den, 137
Steenkerke, 122, 155
Stenning, Mr., xii
Stobart, Mrs. St. Clair, head of
the hospital unit at Antwerp, 2 ;
office, 7, l0 ; issues orders, 18 ;
leaves Antwerp, 21 ; return to
England, 22
Stockhohn, 180
Stoney, Dr. F., 2
"8tories and Pictures of the
Var," lecture on, 167
Streatfield, Mr., 74
Stret«hers, size of, 66, 69
Stricklaud, Mr., 87
8trutt, Emily, 85
Strutt, Neville, 178
Sutherland, l)uchess of, 93 ; hos-
pital at St. Malo-les-Bains, 44
Sweden, Crown Prince of, 181
,weden, Crowu Princess of,
appearance, 181

"Faff river, 164
Taknmkoff, Mme., 200, 203
Tapp, Mr., 64
Teck, Prince Aloxandor of, 141 ;
at Furnes, 75, 83
Tehran, 260
Thompson, Mr., 138
Tiflis, 208, 214, 230
Tonepentre, 164
Toney Pandy, 164
Travelling-kitchens, 51
Tree, Viola, 183
Tschelikoff, Prince, 233,
Turks, cruelties, 177, 209
Turner, Dr. Rose, 2
Tyrell, Major, 151
Tysczkievez, Count, 222

l'rumiyah, evacuated, 223

Vaughan, Miss, at Furnes, 68
Vickers-Maxim works, Erith, lec-
ture by Miss Macnaughtan, 160
Victoria, Grand Duchess, 185
Villiers, Sir Francis, British Minis-
ter at Antwerp, 9
Vladikavkas, 207
Wales, 163

°86 INDEX

1Valker, Colonel, 112
1Valter, Mr. Hubert, 143
1Valton, Colonel, 176
1Var charities, administration,
219-222 ; cost of the, 104 ;
cruelties, 175 178 ; result, 115 ;
souvcnirs, ] 43
1Vardepett Billop, 229
l';ll'e Ir. F., 85
Varing, La,ly ('ldmentille letters
from Miss l;lCllatlght;lll 50-5»
58, 260; at Lmmel, 163
1Uarship, British, shelled by the
I ;erlnans, 105
1Vatts, Dr., 2
1Vehvylb ] [;0
1Vestminister, Duke ot) at Dix-
mude, 127
Whitiug, ('aptuin, 73
William 11., Emror of Germany,

supposed conversion to Mahom-
medanism, 209
William, Capt. Rhys, 230
Williams, Mr. Hume, 223
Wilson, Dr., 69, 225
Wilson, 178
Vood, lIr., 119, 121
Wymm, Mrs., 132, 140 ; at
Christiania, 179 ; Moscox% 20.5 ;
Bal, u» 231

'oung, Capt. Alan, af Boulogne,
55 ; experiences iii the war, 56 ;
 ounded, 57
Young, Mrs. Charles, letter from
Miss Macnaughtal b 214
Youughusband, Sir Frank, 164;
speecll at Cardiff, 1;9
Ypres, 114, 137; battle at, 144, 146
Yser, the, 4, ïl, 121» 141

IILLING *,ND ON L'|D. PRINTERS, GUILDFORD E'GLAD