After Spending a Day
or So in Liverpool Misses Heath and Lee Continued their Journey to London. . .
Converse With a “Sure Nuff” Southern Negro
Dear Papa and Folks at
Home:
Even though I am now across the Atlantic, here in England, I
have not forgotten that to-day 52 years ago you came into the world and though
it is too late to write a lengthy message, I wanted to begin it to-night, so as
to wish that you may have many happy returns and that you will make all kinds of
good resolutions and to say that you are constantly in my thoughts and prayers,
and I do trust that all will go well during my long absence from home, and as
this letter will in all probability not reach you till about Christmas Eve, in the language of Nixon
Waterman:
“Here’s a greeting to you Dad,
Just to tell you for a father, way back yonder:
And the older that I grow
Then the more I come to know
That the ties which bind our lives
Are growing fonder.”
Just as I was leaving the club house in New York, your
letter came, and you may know that I left my native shores in better spirit,
because of news from home—I am afraid that I just missed one from Mama, as I
almost know one from her was on the way, but hope it will be forwarded by the
New York office and that all of you have sent letters on to me. I want you to
write me often, not short notes, but real letters—when you get down to
business, you can do it and I shall expect them.
To-night at the dock, I wish that you could have seen the
demonstration of feeling on the part of all—the deafening yells for the
returning English officers and soldiers, then they gave them in return—a
general feeling of thanksgiving for a safe voyage, then a grand shaking of
hands, and “good byes.” We were met by Y.M. men and women who managed matters
in a most efficient manner—none of our baggage to bother with—then a ride on
the “Overhead” (elevated), then a ride on a “tram” (double-decked bus) to the
Adelphi hotel which is the finest in England, so one of the English Majors told
us. We enjoyed our dinner so much, as it had somewhat a different flavor to
that served on the boat coming across. It being Sunday night, the hotel was
crowded, and truly, you would have thought that you were in one of the
magnificent hotels of New York as there were so many American officers and it
appears to be their headquarters. We were waiting outside the dining room when
some of the Englishmen from the ‘Orontez’ came up. They were most courteous,
and even the Colonel himself was busied with having us soon seated—they became
hosts in a way, and said that they were so well treated in America that they
wanted to return some of the kindnesses shown them. Before we could get
anything to eat, we had to sign a card stating our purpose for being there and that
we hadn’t had meat in the hotel before that meal. Dessert is sugarless and all
drinks too. Fruit is too expensive to serve. After dinner, we all came out into
the lounge to hear the music and watch the women smoke! I only saw two or three
men in the lounge in civilian clothes and they had wound chevrons on their
sleeves and not but one man in the dining room except in uniform.
Monday, November 25th—I certainly did enjoy the
soft downy bed and pillows last night and would have enjoyed them longer had I known
I would be staying here all day. We were told last evening to be ready to leave
to-day at 2 o’clock, so hoping to have a peep at Liverpool we got up real
early, and just after breakfast were advised that we would be here till
to-morrow some time, so we spent the morning in the museum, in the public
square walking around, then had lunch at the Y.M.C.A. canteen, there we talked
with some happy soldiers and sailors who were here on their way home. We
hurried back to the hotel to be informed that we would leave here at 11
to-morrow, and could do as we pleased during the afternoon. At Knotty Ashe, a
suburb, is one of the biggest American camps (“Rest Camps”), so we decided that
we would like to see it. The car ride was through an interesting residence
section and we gathered a fair idea of the homes and gardens these people have.
We were graciously received at several of the huts by the men and women
secretaries, but more so by the men themselves. This camp is brim full of
American boys on their way home, and when many groups of them spied us, they
yelled –“From God’s Country.” Many of them have never been to France, but seem
anxious to be getting home. They asked many questions about New York and every
where, and in each hut, one of the men called out the states we represented,
and the boys responded seemingly so happy to talk with some one from their same
State. On the car going out a soldier began talking who turned out to be from Virginia
and he personally conducted the crowd. He seemed so glad to see we Southerners
and I talked with quite a lot. In spite of the drizzly mist and black mud we
enjoyed the trip immensely. After going to several huts, at most of which we
were served hot cocoa and cakes, we went to one hospital in which I discovered
a negro from Charlotte and another typical “cotton patch” boy from “way down in
Georgy” who said, “Yesm, I cum fromGeorgy and I ain’t been no fudder dan here
and I don’t want to go no fudder—I would reether go back Souf to my old
home”—at about this time many negro soldiers began to congregate around me, one
of whom was a very typical cold black greasy faced fellow with the whites of
his eyes quite in evidence whose beautiful white teeth appeared like miniature
tombstones, who at the first opportunity, gave me the old time bow and pulled
off his cap and with a broad grin on his face said,
“Bless de Lord, dese white folks look like home—soon I laid
my eyes on you I knowed you was from some where Souf,” and to the question as
to whether he too had been at the front, he promptly said: “No m’am, thank
God—we was all ‘specting to be sent but got in good spirits soon as we heard
that Uncle Sam had ordered many nigger regiments to the front lines and we
knowed right den dat somefin was guine to be doing and sho enough the Germans
had to come to de armisstiss and since den, you know Miss, dat dere has been a
secession of hosterilties and I am sho we will all be soon sent home.” Knowing
the negro as I do, I could have spent an hour very pleasantly with them but
limited time would not admit.
In talking to some of our own soldiers, they stated that it
was very amusing to watch the native Englishman looking on and listening to our
pure Southern negroes, in their drills, antics and inimitable songs.
One soldier I talked to said that they had almost nothing to
eat for a while and that he had known four or five boys to smoke alternately
from one cigarette—think of it!
It seems that the American camps are to be cleared out in
England as soon as possible and the camps to be turned over to England for her
own troops’ use until demobilization. I was astonished and regret to know that
the greatest degree of friendliness and brotherly feeling does not exist
between the American and English soldiers. I am hoping that this is true only
“Over Here,” but as we were coming home we talked with two American officers,
one of whom was from Edenton, North Carolina, and the other from Easley, South
Carolina, who was a graduate of the Citadel at Charleston, both were in the 30th
Division and at the front—the Lieutenant from South Carolina, said the American
privates like the Australians and the Canadian best, but that he believes and
hopes the unfriendliness of Americans and Britishers will all be overcome.
These two men got up, took off their gloves, and shook hands with me right in
the car when they heard that I was from the “Sunny South.” The Citadel graduate
was wounded, a bayonet stab in the neck and just out of the hospital. He, too,
said that they lost heavily when he was in the fight.
I have seen soldiers and soldiers every where, in fact
almost every man is in some kind of uniform—so many of them are wearing pretty
blue trousers and bright red ties—I made enquiry, and all Allied wounded while
recuperating, wear that combination, which with a white shirt seems so
patriotic with the red, white and blue in evidence.
I am tired and have a bad headache, so will go to bed early
tonight.
Tuesday, November 26th—We enjoyed our good soft
beds again last night, for no telling what a contrasting type we may be sleeping
in soon in France. We were only up in time to get our bags packed, have
breakfast, pay bills and get to the station at 11. In this hotel, all of the
employees are women and children with one or two exceptions—two unusual things,
we had linen sheets and electrically wound clocks in every room—elevators
everywhere—they are called in England “lifts.” Women conductresses on all cars.
Another English expression “Enquiry” instead of our Information Bureau. In our
rooms were instructions about pulling the curtains before turning on the
lights, penalty for not observing the same—“Exhibition of Lights” was their way
of saying it.
We traveled like “elites” from Liverpool to London in first
class Salon cars, in which there were only four compartments to a coach with
chairs, one couch and tables just like a sitting room. It was grey and misty
outside and the smoke form the engine didn’t rise quickly, consequently
practically all view of the country was obscured, yet at times we did get peeps
at the thatched roofed houses and the beautiful green pastures with large
numbers of grazing sheep. Everything is much greener here than at home this
time of year, saw many gardens with cabbage, etc., all looking as if they would
be eatable. There were 59 girls and women on the train, so we spent some of the
time getting acquainted.
Many came in on other steamers than ours and it reminded me
of a class reunion to meet some whom I had met in New York City in the several
conferences. One of the ladies said that we should be glad that we didn’t leave
New York City during the epidemic, for on several boats four or five “Y” girls
died and were buried at sea, so I am beginning to think that all that has
happened was for the best. We had a lot of fun jumping off the train at the
various stops to purchase our lunch, as there are few dining cars in England.
Food is expensive, fruit especially, think of it—a shilling (24 cents) for a
medium sized apple, and bananas are also a shilling each. We spent some time
telling each other of the typical English expressions we had noticed. In the
compartment we found this—“Five pounds ($25) provided for anyone who stops the
train unnecessarily.”
We arrived in London about 4:30 p.m. and it was good and
dark, misty, rainy, dim lights, much like you would imagine this city to be in
reading about it. The “Y” people met us and we were escorted to the Imperial
Hotel on Russell Square. I find the city to be very much congested, so only 22
could be assigned rooms, the rest of us are to sleep in the “Turkish Baths,”
but we younger ones think that will be an interesting experience and having
enjoyed the luxury of the Adelphi at Liverpool, won’t complain at all. Some of
us have just had dinner at the Holborn restaurant, one of the noted ones of the
city, but could not be served any meat, which means other than ham or bacon,
nor anything but a small “dash” of sugar, but you know that I am not a crank
about what I eat, so I enjoy everything—if others have done without, I can
too—the baths referred to are ready so I will go to my little cot by saying
good night, with the thought that you so often repeat at home and which you
have told was the custom of your Mother—“Sweet rest and pleasant dreams.”
Wednesday night, November 27th—Here I sit in the
Imperial Hotel, London, England, and can’t realize it at all and the night
before Thanksgiving too. Fortunately we secured a room to-day so are more
comfortable than last night but even the hard cot at the baths didn’t prevent
me from sleeping well. At breakfast a Canadian Doctor sat opposite me, so we
had a chat. He had been at the front for nearly a year when the armistice came
and has been here for two weeks leave. He says that we must see the
battlefields of France, as much of them as we can, for everyone should in order
to fully realize the terribleness of it all. He says that the only Hun to
consider is the dead Hun. The most horrible thing he related to me was that the
test for prisoners to be forced to work is that you could reach around the arm
above the elbow with thumb and forefinger touching—imagine a strong man so
emaciated as that forced to hard labor. Two of his Doctor friends were
prisoners themselves and related this and other terrible punishments to him,
and furthermore that many of the prisoners fell dead at night upon returning
from a day’s toil.
At 10:30 we met at headquarters to be advised that Paris at
present was so congested with men on leave, who for the first time have been
allowed to go thee, that we can’t possibly be sent over for 10 days unless
vital changes take place.
King George and two sons went over yesterday. We will
perhaps have an opportunity to see London and surrounding country in the
meantime, and hope to go to see Major Peck in Cambridge. When the meeting
adjourned, I met up with Miss Mills of our conference who has been in London
for three weeks so she offered to pilot me around. First we walked along
Southampton Row, Kingsway, etc., then to Cavinish Square to have my passport
stamped by the American Consulate office. By the way, as we were walking along
in front of a man’s furnishing store, were polished brass plates “Heath.” I
looked further and the owner’s name was “Henry Heath”—my mind immediately
reverted to “Our Henry” at Matthews and I was tempted to go in and announce
myself. We strolled all along Regent Street, corresponding to Fifth Avenue of
New York and I was much surprised to see so many beautiful dresses, suits,
etc., in all the show windows. Practically every man we met was in uniform or
had a brass plate showing disability discharge from a certain regiment. It was
most interesting to note all of the various insignia, for they wear a different
one for every organization and each part of it. Many of the officers and
privates were adorned with several wound stripes and war crosses and too we saw
many, many on crutches, and many with only one arm or leg and faces terribly
disfigured and nearly all the older civilians had on black arm bands. I realize
already that we Americans know nothing of the sorrows and horrors of this world
struggle, and anyone in America other than those wearing a gold star ought to
be thoroughly ashamed to have even thought to have uttered a complaint.
We stopped at a little restaurant on Regent and had waffles
and syrup and a piece of apple pie for lunch, then walked on to Pickadilly
Circle where seven streets converge, a most interesting place to me, then on to
the Mall a long wide boulevard which runs from Buckingham Palace to Trafalgar
square. All along on display are German guns, marked as to when, where and by
whom they were captured—on the way to the Mall, as we were going through
Waterloo Place, we were fortunate enough to see the change of guards at White
Hall, an old historic building. These men are mounded on beautiful black
horses, and they are much befeathered, bearmed and bebooted—red coats one day,
blue coats the next, with white riding breeches. Next we went into Westminister
Abbey and sat for a time during a service, then we had a bus ride back up to
“The Old Curiosity Shop” immortalized by Dickens. By this time night was
overtaking us, so hurried to a place to secure Emergency Ration Cards, which we
were required to do so on account of being in government service for an
indefinite period. These cards contain coupons and are cut out each time you
make a purchase of sugar or meat. Will send one of these home as they are
interesting. On the way to the hotel, we stepped into an Italian restaurant and
had an egg omelet, fried potatoes, butter beans, toast and a delicious
marmalade and it was the best meal I have had since leaving home, good and hot
and I shall patronize it often. We are required to take breakfast at our hotel
but the other two meals were we please. Later we went to Eagle Hut, the largest
canteen in the world, which is located on The Strand (Broadway of London). It
is wonderfully arranged and artistically decorated, has large reading and
writing rooms with large open fires, billiard tables, huge dining room and
mammoth concert hall for all amusements. The decorations evidence that it is
distinctively American.
I have just happened to good luck. One of the Y.M.C.A. women
also waiting here has an invitation to go on a tour to-morrow and has asked me
to accompany her.
I find myself to-night wising two wishes. One, that I could
be home with you all to-morrow for Thanksgiving, and another that all of you
could be here with me, then we could be so thankful and happy. Good
night—pleasant dreams—much love.
Devotedly,
Lura
