‘I do not do this for my own pleasure, but because God has so commanded me.’
And the carriage nodded its head in approval. Further, she described how, being set to feed him with rice and milk, she made this remark with each mouthful; till, goaded beyond bearing, the man spat the food out in her face. And the carriage exclaimed with horror at the brute. Then all the nurses gathered round to tell him what they thought of him, and unanimously declared they would refuse ever to feed him again. The infirmière majeure, being informed, said that she would feed him, and with the spoon and basin she approached the bed. The poor man, however, let himself go and ejected the rice and milk thus bestowed upon him in the direction of the lady herself. The carriage lifted its hands in horror, and agreed, as the raconteur continued, that after that there was nothing more to be done, and the Médecin-en-Chef had to remove the wounded German.
With such tales the long journey was beguiled.
CHAPTER IX
THE HOSPITAL AT WIMEREUX UNDER THE R.A.M.C. IS OPENED
In Boulogne itself every place which was suitable for hospital purposes was already occupied, but there was a large house at Wimereux which was to let. The little town was full of jerry-built hotels and chalets, erected by the maire and rented in times of peace to the summer visitors, who were a source of revenue both to him and to the town. The large hotels were all let to the Army, but the Château Mauricien was vacant; and although it was Sunday, the agent was prepared to do business.
The château had originally been built by an Englishman, and it was provided with an English cooking range and hot-water system as well as with central heating. Its chief attractions were its position in the eye of the sun, with a large garden all round it, and the purity and freshness of the air. Attached to it was a three-storied dépendance, which promised quarters for the staff. In addition the stable, coach-house, garage and greenhouses could all be made use of. It is true that the roof was inclined to leak and that the drainage system was obsolete and broke down hopelessly; but the place was full of sunshine and sweetness, and made a passable hospital both then and later.
The agent, M. Jean Bataille, who acted for the maire, had the appearance and manners of a bluff sea-captain. His appearance suggested that his blue serge clothing covered an honest heart, that his mind was as guileless as a child’s, and that philanthropy was his hobby. He had a fixed idea that to be English was to be wealthy; and experience had shown him that in matters of business the English were as babes in the hands of the maire and himself. Between them they monopolised most of the trades and all the public offices of the town; nothing could be obtained and very little could be done without applying to the maire. Builders, chimney-sweeps, plumbers, gas-fitters—all seemed to be his employees. No one else had houses or hotels to let. The milk came from his farm; the coal through his agency. He controlled l’apparat by which the congestion of drains was relieved; and by virtue of his office he issued requisition orders and autorités at his own discretion and his own price.
The greater part of the morning was spent in argument, on the sunny terrace of the château, before the bargain was struck. The terms of the maire were high, and he haggled and held out; but finally, having been assured that the Légion d’honneur was likely to be his, and that his association with the British Army might bring further honours, he melted, and agreed to put the house in order and let it to the Women’s Hospital Corps for six weeks, or longer if they wanted it. The party adjourned to the maire’s office—a black little den behind his house—so that the agreement might be drawn up. There was only standing room in the office, and a board laid on the top of the stove acted as a writing table! M. le Maire and M. Bataille were unable to write more than their own names, and the agreement had to be composed and written by the doctors themselves. With much concentration and deep breathing the gentlemen affixed their signatures. The document being completed, they beamed on the ladies, and promised to have workmen and cleaners in the house by sunrise next day.
By ten o’clock in the morning the sweep, the plumber and the gas-fitter had not arrived; the women who were to do the cleaning were still absent, and the maire himself was invisible. The town had to be turned upside down to discover them all; and when once they were set to work, it was necessary to stand by and keep a watchful eye upon them, lest they should disappear and get lost again.
The château needed furniture. And here the maire was supreme; for he had stores of furniture stacked in the ‘Salle Jeanne d’Arc,’ which he had removed from the Grand Hotel when he let it to the R.A.M.C. for a hospital. He was charmed that it should be requisitioned, and the agent sent two ramshackle old carts and a couple of men to convey mattresses and tables and chairs from the salle to the new hospital. Through him also a batterie de cuisine was unearthed from the underground cellars of the Grand Hotel; and from cupboards in the typhoid wards cutlery and knives and forks were forthcoming. With the supplies and stores from Paris, and others which Dr. Woodcock sent over, the château assumed a fairly habitable and comfortable appearance. There was no furniture available for the staff; for the maire lent on hire at exorbitant rates; and therefore they contented themselves with mattresses on the floor of the dépendance for many weeks, until the British Red Cross came to their relief with bedsteads.