I LEFT Reading on 19 June, 1917.
87, Victoria Street.
You will be surprised to hear from me back in London Just as I was coming out of class at to 1/4 to 12 to-day I was instructed to return to London as the Air Board wanted me. I can't tell you what a relief it is to have left Reading and be back here one's own master. I at once went to the Air Board and saw Colonel Jenkins, who was extremely nice to me. I start in to-morrow morning. (Letter.)
I celebrated my release by a dinner at Scott's, in Coventry Street, consisting of lobster and devilled chicken washed down by Burgundy. A welcome change after the monotony of "St. Pats." After office hours I was a free man. In my most sanguine moments I had never expected to find myself back in London, within five minutes of the Overseas Club office in Aldwych !
For the next six months I was on the staff of the Directorate of Aircraft Acceptance at the Air Board---or the Military Aeronautics Directorate---then quartered at the Hotel Cecil. My immediate chief was Colonel F. Conway Jenkins,(1) not yet thirty, who had had phenomenal promotion and was one of the youngest departmental heads in the Service. Our branch was an important one. It collected the completed aeroplanes from the manufacturers and flew them to Lympne and then "ferried" them over to G-.H.Q. in France.
My job, when I had learnt the ropes, was to take charge of the "Ferry" pilots and arrange with them their duties. They were a splendid lot of young men of from nineteen to twenty-three or four. For the time being some of them were doing light duty, probably after a crash in France. Here in the vast Hotel Cecil, with its thousand or so rooms and a huge staff, they brought with them the atmosphere of the battle area. Doubtless this continually expanding staff was essential to keep pace with the tremendous development in the Air Force. Of the many jobs that Jenkins gave me to do there was none that I liked better than being in charge of the Ferry Pilots. They were heroes everyone of them. To listen to their modest and unvarnished accounts of "strafing the Hun" was an unforgettable experience. To flaunt death was part of the daily round. I never got over the feeling that they at least should have had a special uniform to differentiate them from the rest of us who spent our lives on the ground. For every flying-man in the Air Force there was a large ground personnel.
I had never been in a big Government Department before and it was some time before I grew accustomed to the functioning of the bureaucratic machine. My only previous experience of a Government office---I do not count recruiting in Scotland---had been as a boy when I had sat working at shorthand, modern history and languages, in my father's office at the Irish Land Commission in Dublin after leaving Eton. Twelve years in Northcliffe's service was not a good preparation for becoming a mere cog in the war machine. I found it difficult to accustom myself to the endless circulating of minutes. The cumbrous method of writing minutes in one's own hand was surprising to me. I recalled the scorn with which Northcliffe had talked of Lord Curzon and of Moberley Bell of The Times, "who sat at their desks writing endless letters with their own hand," instead of dictating them.
No one seemed authorised to do anything of his own volition. Your good bureaucrat obtained a sheet of foolscap and addressed it to A.D.D.M.A.D. Then a request or suggestion would be entered. He would add to his name some mysterious lettering such as A.D.D.A.A. I lived in a nightmare of initials to which I never grew accustomed. The document was put into a "jacket"---a folder of thick paper. Then the fun started. The jacket would commence its rounds. It wandered from room to room, from floor to floor, from department to department of the Hotel Cecil.
I often wondered how many human beings during the war were occupied filling in needless forms and conveying them from department to department. Perhaps in Carmelite House we had been brought up in too slap-dash methods. If we wanted information we rang up the head of the department concerned and got it there and then. No doubt many of the matters under consideration at the Air Board had to be committed to paper but many had not. If Mr. Selfridge had been in control his fertile mind would have thought out some system for speeding-up and simplifying our work---perhaps a phonograph or some other contraption into which a robot would record all the requests and suggestions for future reference! By the time the jacket returned to the sender, after its peregrinations round our labyrinths, we had almost forgotten its existence.
We worked long hours---from 9.30 to 7.0 every day, Saturdays included ; at lunch-time I usually fitted in a twenty-minute visit to the Overseas Club after eating at Gow's in the Strand or at Groom's in Fleet Street. As a treat I would sometimes lunch at a favourite haunt since my postcard days, Les Gourmets in Lisle Street, where Madame Cosson always had a friendly word and where Baptiste the white rabbit would scuttle about unconcernedly between the feet of les clients.
By now I was quite accustomed to uniform. I thought of my boyhood's German officer friends whose military bearing I had then envied and I tried to emulate their deportment. There was no second-lieutenant who clicked his heels louder or stood more correctly to attention when he was passed by a superior officer in the passages of out huge office.
Soon after I went to the Air Board the Foreign Office applied for my services for its Propaganda Department and perhaps I would have been well-advised to have tried to get a transfer. But my chiefs were determined to keep me. A great expansion was taking place in the Air Force in 1917. In July I received a second "pip" and within five months of arriving at the Hotel Cecil I was gazetted a Captain.
Departments grew almost overnight. Conway Jerkins, my immediate chief, was now a Brigadier-General. Envious glances were cast at him by pukka soldiers. How had a motorist who had taken up flying as a young man in 1910 become a General before he was 30? But Jenkins was a good organiser, and a considerate chief who inspired his subordinates with confidence and he never spared himself.(2) There was great elation when we learnt that a big scheme of expansion was going through and that we would all move up in the hierarchy. From being E.O.3's and 2's we became E.O.1's ; the lucky were even able to adorn their tunics with red tabs. We pored over, blue prints showing the future organisation of our Directorate throughout the country. Every head of a department wanted to outdo his neighbour. Happy indeed was he who had three G.S.O.1's under him while his rival had only two! If you were sufficiently important you could wangle the use of a Crossley tender---my old friend of the exams, at Reading. There was also the prospect of being whirled through the streets of London by an attractive chauffeuse. But woe betide any officer below the rank of Colonel who tried to get into friendly converse with the goddess ex machina There were no good mornings with a bewitching smile for the likes of him.
Increasing importance was now attached to the air service. Mr. Lloyd George's magnetic personality was making itself felt. He was determined to develop the Air Force to the utmost. We all shared in the growing influence of the Royal Flying Corps. We were no longer the Cinderella of the Services. When we wanted to ring up Acceptance Parks and Aerodromes we demanded a "priority call." Ordinary telephone users had to become accustomed in war-time to having their conversations cut short. It was curious to lead a double existence during the day as part of the military machine with its trappings and privileges; in the evening as the organiser of an Empire movement.
After my military duties in the day, dealing with pilots, aeroplanes and aircraft stores, I would find myself in the evenings at the Overseas Office discussing infant welfare,(3) War Savings or one of our many schemes; or perhaps I would be absorbed in making plans for launching my British-American organisation when the psychological moment arrived. I note in my diary that on 8 July, 1917, I was reading to my cousin "my detailed notes about my American scheme." My mind was occupied with things American and the increasing importance of a close British-American understanding. I do not think there was a day till the English-Speaking Union was launched in July, 1918, that I did not give the matter serious thought.
It was quite natural that all my latent enthusiasm for America and my belief in the mission of the English-Speaking Peoples should increasingly dominate my waking thoughts. On 26 June, a week after I started work at the Air Board, the first contingent of American troops landed in France. From now on there came a growing advance-guard of long-limbed Americans belonging to the various military and naval organisations being established in London. A red-letter occasion for me was the first sight of an American officer walking along Pall Mall---dressed in khaki. In the distance he looked like a British officer but on closer inspection he wore an unfamiliar tunic. Our meeting was within a stone's throw of the house where George the Third was born in St. James's Square. In the American I seemed to see the herald of the new age when the British and American peoples would forget past feuds. One of the chief tenets of my Faith was that our two peoples must in future act in unison for the world's welfare.
Some extracts from letters written during this period follow:
Saturday, 7 July, 1917. We had a very exciting time of it this morning. At about 25 past 10 I was in Colonel Jenkins' room when suddenly we heard firing, so he jumped up and we dashed to the window and there were 25 German aeroplanes, looking as if they were coming straight for us. They were quite close. Our guns were firing at them but they seemed to be missing them. At once the order was given for us to go down to the basement, not a very heroic procedure for the headquarters of the Flying Service! And we all went down there for about twenty minutes and then came back.
Jenkins sent for me to tell me that the War Office had applied for my services in their propaganda department and that he was going to see General Henderson about it. I told him that I had written saying that I was sure that the Air Board would not release me.
Sunday, 22 July, 1917. On Tuesday Jenkins sent for me and told me that when Captain Skipper was away he was going to put me in charge of his department, which would give me plenty of chances to show how I could do, and he promised if I did well that he would shove me on. Skipper has been away for the last three days and as a result I have been frightfully busy and really interested in my work. On Friday, Sir David Henderson sent for me to find out just what work I was doing and he said the Foreign Office were still trying to get me but that he was not going to let me go, as the work I was doing was important and there would be plenty of scope for me.
When I was at Church this morning I heard bombs, though I can't find out if there was an air raid.
This letter to my Mother tells of my first flight:
We left the Air Board by car at mid-day on Saturday. We lunched in mess at Kenley Aircraft Park, which is one of our aerodromes. We started immediately afterwards. The wind had got up and it was clouded-over, which was a pity and the machine rocked a little on the ground. It was what is called an "FE." and I sat right in front in the "nacelle," in the very nose of the plane, in front of the pilot and the engine. I was dressed up in goggles and a flying cap pulled over my head---it just gives an opening for the nose and eyes, a very thick leather coat and padded gloves. Then I was strapped in by a big band, like a horse's girth, so there was no fear of moving about. Then the Colonel said "Let her go" and off we went; first of all we "taxied" or ran along the aerodrome and then we turned and started to go up as he turned his engine fully on. It is extraordinary how quickly one climbs and one has a great sense of power. I did not like the sensation of "banking" or turning in the air and it makes you feel rather uncomfortable
Up and up we climbed till we were 4,000 feet up and then we followed the South Eastern railway line. We were just under the clouds and it was quite chilly. One gets a marvellous view of the country and it is just like looking at the world from outside. It all seemed very far off and very grey. Before we had been going more than fifteen minutes the Colonel shouted down his speaking tube "Do you see the sea?" and there it was in the distance; we could see from the mouth of the Thames to Winchelsea.
Then he flew right out to sea over Folkestone and we looked down on the destroyers crossing the Channel. One could easily recognise them by the wash they made. I liked the sensation of being above the sea.
Sunday, 29 July, 1917. I went to lunch with Lady Grey and was taken up to see Lord Grey(4) afterwards. He was being taken off the following day to Leeds for an internal operation. I was dreadfully shocked by his appearance. I thought him looking very frail and ill and all the life gone out of him, but he was very friendly.
Things seem dreadfully bad in Russia and I am afraid it will prolong the war.
I know you will be very pleased to hear that we have now got £10,350 for the R.F.C. hospital, so we managed it in less than the time we tried for.
Sunday, 19 August, 1917. Ewhurst, Surrey. It is the first night I have slept out of London since I was at Reading and it is very resting. The country all round here is perfectly lovely and two miles away is a hill one mass of purple heather. As I was sitting out-of-doors reading the Observer I could distinctly hear the "throbs" of the guns in Flanders
Sunday, August, 1917. 87 Victoria Street. The weather this last week has really been beyond words: it has rained continuously. I am afraid it must have affected our offensive.
You probably saw that we presented eight more aeroplanes to the Government on the 4th August.
Did I tell you that Geoffrey Robinson(5) told me that he did not see how Lord Grey could recover and he was too bad to be operated on.
Sunday, 2 September, 1917. Marlborough Club. Wasn't it sad about Lord Grey? Somehow I felt sure, that last time I saw him, that I should never see him again, he looked so hollow-eyed and all the old fire gone. I have lost a very good friend. (Letters to parents.)
Lord Grey's death was a great blow to me. Ever since I first stayed with him at Ottawa in 1906, when he was Governor-General of Canada, we had been warm friends. He had always taken a great interest in my work. In many ways I regarded him as the godfather of the Overseas League. I recalled with grateful remembrance his encouragement in its early days. As I sat in his library at Rideau Hall we discussed my two chief preoccupations, Empire unity and British-American Co-operation. In the early days of the Overseas Club movement, when we enrolled associates who only paid 1s., Lord Grey enrolled hundreds of leading Canadians, though I fear some of them signed on without a clear idea of what they were joining! He cabled to me for 4,000 badges. The idea of a great brotherhood, recognising no class distinctions, appealed to him. His valet was one of our most attractive recruits.
In Lord Grey's nature there was room for many enthusiasms. He was equally ready to plunge into Empire unity, Canadian Nationalism, Public-house Reform, Copartnership, Proportional Representation, Garden Cities or Anglo-American friendship. I sometimes wished he had not had so many enthusiasms and had concentrated on the two or three causes nearest to his heart. If he had I think he would have achieved more in his life. Perhaps this is an unfair criticism. There are some people who are apparently intended to act as inspirers in the lives of struggling mortals. They encourage and stimulate before they are caught up in some new enthusiasm. Then they pass on to do to others what they have done to you. Their varied enthusiasms are not to be curbed.
When I think of Lord Grey I recall a man of vision, a great pro-consul, a dear friend. One of the projects nearest his heart was his Dominion House, to be a great Imperial centre on the Aldwych site. In his mind's eye he saw the building dominated by a high tower. Here, year in, year out, was to burn a beacon of light, to be seen from all parts of London, to symbolise the light the British Commonwealth was to radiate in a dark world. Lord Grey's conception did not materialise. But he does not require a building to keep his memory alive among those who knew him. His infectious enthusiasm illuminated the lives of those who shared his ideals.
Sunday, 16 September, 1917. 87, Victoria Street. I lunched with Sutton of the Amalgamated Press last week. He was not very cheerful about the war and said he did not see any prospect of it ending and that our casualties in Flanders had lately been very heavy.
All the same, knowing Germany, 1 never expected it to be over quickly and I do believe that in another year the German war spirit will be getting tired. No nation could go on suffering indefinitely the losses she has had.
In the autumn of 1917, during full moon, air raids became of almost daily occurrence.
Sunday, 30 September, 1917. Last night we had the longest bombardment we have had yet, but there are no details in the papers so far. The anti-aircraft guns started booming about 9 p.m. and went on till 10.10. The shooting got louder and louder and then died off only to come on again. I was dining at Gillingham Street and we sat on the kitchen stairs and I read aloud Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain; and Pamela(6) became so absorbed in it that she paid no attention to the noise despite the fact that the cook fainted At 10.15 the signal "all clear" was given and it was a lovely night so I walked back.
Don't believe these stories of 30,000 American aeroplanes. It will be a good long time before we can expect anything like that number from the U.S.A.
Sunday, 30 September, 1917. Air Board Office. It is my day of Sunday duty, so I brought a big batch of Overseas Club documents with me hoping to get through them, but other fellows came in and have been talking all the morning. As a result I have hardly done a thing. You know that maddening sensation when you have all your papers in front of you and people will insist on talking to you! One very nice fellow would keep on telling me stories about cannibals in Central Africa and hunting big game, which I should have been very interested in in ordinary times.
You can't imagine what peace these last three days have been without air-raids. Monday's was the worst yet, it went on 2-1/2 hours and some bombs fell in Pimlico quite close to Victoria and made a tremendous noise.
Sunday, 14 October, 1917. Air Board Office. Our chief excitements have been the changes in the Air Board. From the national standpoint Salmond is a good appointment, as I believe he is a very capable man. Just think, he is only 36!
The news from Flanders has been very encouraging and if it had not been for the weather we should have done much better.
I have managed to fit in a lot of Overseas Club work this week and am well satisfied with things, though there is so much I could do there, if I was able to devote all my time to it, that I can't help feeling how stupid it was taking me away.
Sunday, Trafalgar Day, 1917. 87, Victoria Street. The Zeppelin raid took place on Friday night, we were quite unprepared for it apparently I They dropped one aerial torpedo in the centre of Piccadilly Circus, It was wonderful the French bringing down four of them, but we should certainly not have let them all escape like that. I expect there will be a great outcry about it.
I lunched with Hannon, the Secretary of the Navy League, on Tuesday. He has just taken on the organising of this new society called "The Comrades of the Great War of 1914-17." It is very much on the lines of the American organisation of Civil War Veterans, which has great power in the United States, and is to link up all those who have served in this war. I was trying to see if there was any way we could work in with them overseas. (Letters to parents.)
My sister thus described some of the air raids in a monthly letter to overseas friends
Londoners have been put to the test recently by a bad series of air raids, and I confess I think we might have shown ourselves to better advantage. Our nerves have been somewhat shaken. For a week the German airmen flew across the Channel and bombed us night after night in succession and succeeded in seriously disorganising the lives of the whole population. It was a bewildering experience to find oneself miles from home and to be quite unable to get back unless one chose to walk. As soon as the signal "Take cover" is heard, one by one the taxis stop and refuse to take passengers, the buses turn out their lights and line up in some wide thoroughfare, the underground trains cease running, and the stations are darkened. And one is stranded.
I made one or two attempts to get home by tube, but gave it up, preferring to risk being hit by shrapnel in the open air to being suffocated in the heat and crush of human beings below ground. Besides, the attractions above ground are many: there is no knowing what one may not see. The star-shells for one thing, that announce the coming danger, are beautiful to watch.
24 September, 1917. My friendly little Irish maid came in this morning and said," Good morning Captain, I want to congratulate you, I am very glad you have been made a Captain." Wasn't it nice of her?
Air raid warning as we started back after dining at Isola Bella Tried to go back by Underground. Stuck at Charing Cross for half-an-hour, no trains running. Bombs and guns. Hot draughty air. (Diary.)
25 September. Air raid started on my way home. Great agitation at the Flat. Everybody, downstairs on the first and ground floors. No dinner.(7) I waited till things got quieter and finally went across to the Pub for a scratch meal. (Diary.)
Further letters written at this period follow:
1 October. 7.20. Air raid. Just sitting down to dinner at Gillingham Street. Tremendous bomb close by, house shivered and shook. Ate our supper in pantry. Such an air raid, bombs all round. Lupus Street wrecked, also house by Ebury Bridge 200 yards away. Lasted three hours. Did not leave till 10 p.m.
21 October. Looked at havoc caused by the bomb at Piccadilly Circus.
29 October. Despite the full moon there was no air raid last night.
All Saints' Day, 1917. Last night's raid was apparently quite a big affair, 30 aeroplanes, but only three penetrated over London. It lasted from 12 to 2.15. One of the fellows at the Air Ministry saw some people blown up.
Sunday, 11 November, 1917. I am afraid there has not been very cheerful war news of late and I think the Allies' entire strategy will have to be revised.
General Allenby seems to be doing well, but I only hope they will do nothing rash in Palestine, before they know what force of Turks they have up against them at Aleppo.
14 November. The war looks like lasting two years at least and aircraft is getting more important all the time and is playing an increasingly big part in it.
15 November. We seem to be doing very well in Palestine and although I know it does not really affect the war as a whole, yet it always strangely, thrills me. I would love if we could give it to the Jews. It would be a wonderful thing to do.
Lord Harcourt rang me up and asked me to lunch with them. I went, and he showed me the big frescoes they are having put up in the Lower Chapel at Eton as part of the War Memorial. He is the Chairman of the Committee. One of the pictures is rather splendid, it is supposed to be the Armies of Heaven taken from that verse in Revelations, "They were all on white horses." I love the words, "Armies of Heaven," it gives me the feeling that wind in the trees does.
16 Friday. It appears quite definite that Northcliffe is not coming to the Air Board. I understand that he means to be Prime Minister and is going for larger game. I wonder what Lloyd George will have to say.
21 November. I do not think Northcliffe's influence is growing and Carson has made an attack on him. There was good news from the British Front to-day. The Italian business has been very bad.(8) I am afraid the Russian situation is hopeless. At the same time we are doing better against submarines and altogether I don't think the outlook is too bad.
Sunday, 25 November. At Office. The chief news as far as I am concerned is Lord Rothermere's appointment as Air Minister. I would ever so much sooner have him than his brother.
Everyone here is very pleased about Byng's victory and I only hope they will be able to extend it but it looks as if progress were going to be much slower now.
It will be wonderful if we do get into Jerusalem by Christmas and I am sure you are thrilled about it. Lady Plunket told me last night there is an Arab prophecy about a great Western race entering through the West gate on a Friday, I expect you have heard it. I dined last night with the Plunkets to discuss the Babies' scheme.
26 November. I was delighted to see about Rothermere's appointment as Air Minister. You see I have always been on friendly terms with him and he knew all about my controversy with his brother in connection with the Overseas Club. I don't think they could have made a better appointment. I went round to the Ritz Hotel to congratulate him. He was very nice and talked to me alone for about twenty minutes. He said he would get me to come round again. It is curious that as Chief of the Air Force he should be my Chief again. I like him and I have worked under him for twelve years. I only hope he will make use of me. I think I could tell him a lot that would help him.
27 November. I am told Rothermere put in his first appearance at the Air Board to-day, so whether he will remember my existence I don't know ! Anyhow, I shall not make any effort to see him again.
28 November. At the moment the spiritual side of my nature is rather dried up and I long to be "in the shadow of that living mystic tree." I have at moments in my life flashes when I see through, but latterly the dust of living has obscured my vision.
30 November. Rothermere sent for General Jenkins to-day and talked to him for ten minutes on the organising of his department. As he (Lord R.) has not asked to see me again I think the dignified thing for me to do is not to make any further effort to see him. He knows I am here if he wants to see me.
All this Russian news is pretty bad, about as bad as it could be. Yes, T do feel rather shaken about the war. I don't see much that is cheering. All the same I feel we shall win in the end as I believe we can stand it much better than they can, and America will only begin to be ready next spring. (Letters.)
|
WE INVITE TRUBY KING TO ENGLAND |
MY letters contain frequent references to Truby King,(1) known to his friends as "T.K." The successful establishing of the Babies of the Empire, which took over the Marlborough School of Mothercraft in Great Britain, was a major activity of the Overseas Club in 1917-1918, and was the first important piece of social work with which we identified ourselves.
To my sister, Winifride, is primarily due the credit of introducing Truby King's methods of infant life-saving to England. My sister has never in my view received due acknowledgment for her share in this important achievement.(2) In 1910, the year in which I launched the Overseas Club, I first heard my sister talk of Truby King's amazing baby life-saving campaign in New Zealand. An old friend of our family, Lady Plunket,(3) who had recently returned from New Zealand as an enthusiastic believer in Dr. King's methods, told the wonderful story of how in a few years he had reduced New Zealand's infant mortality rate by nearly half. His achievement, is one of the romances of the 20th century. His name deserves to be ranked with that of Ronald Ross and other benefactors of humanity.
On arrival in New Zealand in November, 1912, I was familiar with the names of only some half-dozen New Zealanders---one of them was that of Truby King.
When my sister and I were at Dunedin in January, 1913, our desire to meet Truby King was soon realised and one of my happiest memories is the day we spent with Dr. and Mrs. King at the Seacliff Mental Hospital. From the moment he clasped my hand with those long capable fingers and I looked into his thoughtful eyes and heard the torrent of words about his life's work I knew I was in the presence of a master mind. Just as my friend, Norman Angell, had torn the veil from my eyes in the world of politics; so in the world of nation-building Truby King opened up vistas of an Empire Health Crusade ---a subject hitherto quite outside my ken.
Truby King was born at New Plymouth in New Zealand seventy-five years ago.(4) After leaving school he served as a bank clerk for six years with the Bank of New Zealand and became manager of several branches before he was twenty-one. But fortunately for the world he knew that his call lay elsewhere. One day he told his father he wished to go to the old world to study medicine. His statement called forth this utterance from his father, "Well, you must be of a singularly bloodthirsty turn of mind!" However, his father made him an allowance of £150--generous for those days---and saw him through his course. Truby King went to Edinburgh for his training and subsequently served on the resident staff at Edinburgh and Glasgow Royal Infirmaries. He married a Scotswoman and returned to New Zealand, and in 1889 was appointed medical superintendent of the large Government Hospital for Mental Diseases at Seacliff, Otago. In connection with the institution there was a thousand-acre farm. When the young doctor took over the position he knew no more about farming than does the average New Zealander---which is, of course, much more than does the average young English doctor. But he threw himself with his flamelike enthusiasm into the task of improving the animals on the farm for the use of his patients. Truby King had a twofold aim. He was convinced that by providing his mental patients with healthy work on the farm he was giving them the occupation best suited to their troubles. In these soothing surroundings their poor diseased brains would become more normal. Secondly, as a practical and scientific farmer, he desired to produce only the best cattle, pigs, poultry and plants.
When Truby King took me round his cattle sheds, his pigsties and his poultry runs, I was in familiar surroundings, for much of my early life had been spent on my father's farms in Ireland. My father also was a scientific farmer, who had applied Mendelian theories to cattle breeding.(5). On our tour of inspection, when Truby King told me that the chief secrets of his success in rearing animals were plentiful fresh air with proper ventilation and natural food, I was reminded of my father. Properly ventilated stables and cattle sheds were a sine qua non on his farms.
I never saw healthier animals than at Seacliff, and the patients themselves looked happy and content in their work. T.K. was equally at home among the mental patients and the livestock ! He had various ingenious devices for making the work foolproof for his lunatics. A cow wearing a blue label would go into a blue label stall and was milked into a blue bucket. I was told mistakes never occurred. Careful records were kept of the animals and it was found that they readily responded to commonsense methods.
Coddling of the calves was done away with, and they were taken out of stuffy sheds and put under a simple paling verandah, open to the sun all day, but carefully sheltered from the wind. Here they slept all night in the open air, even in midwinter. Fed systematically, the calves gained on an average over 50 lbs. more in the first six months of life than they had gained previously, and, more important still, none died. Next the pigs came in for their share of attention, with the result that Seacliff carried off all the prizes at the large annual agricultural al and pastoral shows held at Dunedin, until at last the farmers protested at the government competing.
During the tour of inspection I tried to store my mind with facts that would interest my sister, who had been prevented from coming with us. It is always a privilege to meet an enthusiast who permits you to enter into the citadel of his ideals. Truby King told me an enthralling story. Like most great men he was so absorbed in his work that he had no time to think of self. As he made his early experiments with the animals and marked the extraordinary improvement in their condition he asked himself a very simple question : "If natural methods and commonsense have achieved such wonderful results in improving the health of my calves, is there any reason why natural methods should not be equally successful if applied to young human beings?" He especially investigated the problem of rearing dairy calves as "they shared with human infants the misfortune of being reared artificially at an early age."
Truby King pondered deeply. He studied the infant mortality rates of New Zealand---and he discovered that of the 25,000 babies born each year over 2,000 died annually. He decided to take up the cause of the mother and baby. In Lady Plunket, the wife of the Governor-General, he found an ardent supporter, and in 1907 the Plunket Society for the Promotion of the Health of Women and Children was established and the first Plunket nurse appointed. Within five years Truby King's enlightened methods were saving the lives of a thousand babies a year. He took his motto from Milton:
Truby King had a flair for propaganda. He carried on an active campaign throughout New Zealand. He directed his words to the mothers and they responded. He talked to all who came across his path about the wastage of human life. At an early stage in his campaign he thus addressed a congress of farmers
Civilisation is tending everywhere to undermine humanity, and we have no reason to be proud of the fact that, apart from dairy calves (which we treat rather worse than our own offspring), there is no young creature in the world so ignorantly and cruelly nurtured as the average infant. There is no death rate in nature arising from maternal neglect and improper feeding that can be compared with human infant mortality . . . . Yet careless bottle feeding is still resorted to by the majority of women.
The following is an extract from an article by the late Mrs. F. H. Carr:
With the help of his wife, he took in hand the babies first in the village, and then in Dunedin, having as an assistant a bright-faced, tactful and intelligent Scotch girl with no special training, but any amount of zeal and enthusiasm. She later became the first Plunket Nurse. They worked away quietly for two years, gaining results that proved without a doubt that if the infant mortality rate was to be materially reduced, the mothers (actual and prospective) must be roused from their enforced ignorance, and some system of education in mothercraft must be immediately introduced.
As a rule I dislike quoting figures. But when the following statistics were shown to my sister on her visit to the Karitane-Harris Hospital at Dunedin, she at once said that Truby King must be brought to England to do in the "Old Country" what he had done in New Zealand. She had already taken up infant welfare work at home and knew of the conditions prevalent in Great Britain.
Number of Deaths per 100 Births in (a) New Zealand as a whole and, (b) the four principal cities---Years 1907-1912. (6)
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| Auckland & suburban Boroughs |
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| Wellington& Suburban Boroughs |
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| Christchurch & Suburban Boroughs |
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| Dunedin & Suburban Boroughs |
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It was impossible not to be moved by Truby King's eloquence. We were face to face with a Peter the Hermit on a crusade that would revolutionise the methods of infant-rearing throughout the world.
During the early years of the war my sister and I used frequently to discuss Truby King. On her return from our Empire tour she once again took up infant welfare. She and Lady Plunket discussed the desirability of persuading Truby King to come over to England to start an infant welfare crusade in London. My help was invoked. "My brother felt that he could interpret the wishes of the members in no better way than by identifying the Overseas Club with the new movement for saving the child life of the British race,"(7)
Apparently it required the terrible wastage of human life in the war to arouse public opinion as to the importance of the saving of infant lives. My Sister and Lady Plunket sent a cable to Truby King asking him if he would come to England. I cabled to Mr. W. F. Massey, the New Zealand Premier, asking him if the New Zealand Government would lend Dr. King's services to the Overseas Club for the proposed campaign. In a few days affirmative answers to both requests came. Six months later Mr. Massey himself performed the opening ceremony of the "Babies of Empire Training Centre" at 29, Trebovir Road.
Our campaign was described as "a crusade for the health of women and children for the honour of the Empire, under the auspices of the Overseas Club," with the slogan: "The healthy baby is the foundation of national greatness."
My sister thus describes the opening of the Babies of the Empire Training Centre by Mr. Massey, on 9 July, 1918 :(8)
The sun poured into the rooms, gay with flowers and shining with the cleanliness one usually associates with a country home. Trim-looking students in blue overalls and white caps flitted amongst the babies, who looked so well and happy that the visitors found it hard to believe that they were ailing or needed any special care.
A crowded audience listened, with deep attention, to the speeches, and once again we were made to realise how fortunate we are to have Dr. Truby King on this side of the world . We felt proud to think that the Overseas Club had been instrumental in bringing him home to the Old Country.
The new society made rapid headway. On the medical side we turned to Lord(9) and Lady Dawson of Penn, and to their wise guidance and help the new movement owed much. A strong Committee was formed, and my old friend, Mr. E. R. Peacock,(10) a member of the Central Council of the Overseas Club, became Hon. Treasurer. Sir Alexander Roger became Chairman, and early in 1920 he wrote :(11)
A year ago your editor kindly afforded me an opportunity of saying something about the work of the Babies of the Empire Society, which had been founded by the Overseas Club. The Society has now been in existence for close upon two years, and in spite of the most adverse factors the Training Centre and Babies Hospital have achieved wonders. Its success has been in every way beyond all expectation and the death rate has been less than 1 per cent., comparing with 15 per cent, to 40 per cent. and even higher in babies' hospitals dealing with similar cases.
It is impossible for the Committee to over-estimate the magnificent work of Dr. Truby King. In the short time at his disposal he was able to give a fresh impetus to the work of infant welfare in Great Britain; he aroused new enthusiasm among the enthusiasts, and brought to bear, with tremendous effect on our much too conservative ways, the revivifying and untrammelled methods for which he made New Zealand for ever famous.
. . . Meanwhile it is with satisfaction that the Committee reports that the medical direction will be assumed by St. Thomas's Hospital.
. . . We have not been by any means free from financial difficulties, and in this connection the Society is doubly grateful to the members of the Overseas Club who have shown continuous interest in the work, especially to members in the remoter parts of the Empire who have sent large monetary contributions.
On another occasion Sir Alexander Roger said:
It is a singular coincidence, one might well interpret it as an omen, that the Overseas Club which has launched the Babies of the Empire Society, has as its emblem the Japanese symbol which denotes the creation of life, the origin of all things.
To-day the "Babies of the Empire Society " has grown into the Mothercraft Training Centre, Cromwell House, Highgate, which was purchased in 1925 ; and a great decrease in infant mortality in Great Britain in the last decade is in no small degree owing to the educative work carried out there under the supervision of Miss Mabel Liddiard, who was the first British student to receive training at Trebovir Road.
There are frequent references in my letters to the starting of the " Babies of the Empire " crusade
28 October, 1917.
W. dined and we discussed the Truby King scheme and W. is going to get the Plunkets to meet me one evening so that we can talk it over fully.
87, Victoria Street, S.W.1.
Sunday, 4 November, 1917.All sorts of rumours were flying about London yesterday, that the Germans were going to try an invasion, that the Sinn Feiners were out again, etc. I . . .
One evening I went to dine with my little Russian friend at Hampstead, to meet his young lady. I had not seen him since the beginning of the year and he was very interesting about Russia. He says it is absolutely impossible for us to realise the state Russia is in---complete chaos. He does not see how she can be of any more use to the Allies for ages
6 November.
Lord Plunket lunched with me at the Marlborough Club and we discussed the Truby King scheme. It went off very well and I liked him. He is not an enthusiast like Lord Grey but very reliable. I took up the attitude that the Overseas Club would help whether it got the credit or not because I am genuinely interested in the idea and am anxious to back up W. She might be the head of the whole infant welfare movement in Great Britain if she plays her cards properly.
Thursday, 8 November.
Northcliffe has done very well in America. I am told he aspires to be Prime Minister. He thinks he is the only person who can run the country. There was an article about him and the Air Ministry in the paper. There seems to be quite a likelihood of his being appointed.
12 November.
One of those terrific days at the Air Board. I never had a second, telephones and bells going all day and pilots rushing in and out for instructions.
23 November.
I am dining with the Plunkets to settle further details about the Overseas Babies of the Empire, and on Monday night with Lady Dawson, again in connection with the Baby scheme. The Plunkets' was a family dinner, just Lord and Lady P. and W. who has been staying with them for four days. The new committee is definitely going to be called "The Babies of the Empire" and is to work under the auspices of the Overseas Club.
All that remains to be done now is to think out schemes of getting money and I am going to give W. and Lady Plunket letters of introduction to several of my friends as a start among others, Selfridge, E. R. Peacock and Martin. Each should be good for a hundred pounds.
26 November.
I dined with Sir Bertrand and Lady Dawson. Those present were Winifride, Lord and Lady Plunket, Miss Wheatley, Francis R. Jones(12) and three leading doctors. I sat between Lady Dawson and a doctor. Sir Bertrand Dawson after dinner acted as a kind of chairman and we all sat in a semi-circle in the drawing-room. They discussed T.K.'s visit and plans and how best to set about it, and really it went off very well. They are very strong that no press announcements or public meetings should be held till after he has been here for a couple of months and got the medical profession behind him, and altogether they gave very practical advice.
I was really very much interested and it did make me happy to think that the Overseas Club will be able to help about infant mortality in England. (Letters.)
Chapter Nineteen Table of Contents