Some weeks later, in the streets of Milan, there were seen passing a few companies of convalescent French soldiers sadly returning to France. Some have their arms in slings, others are supported by crutches or bear marks of wounds. Their uniforms are well worn and torn, but they wear fine linen, which the rich men of Lombardy have generously given them in exchange for their blood-stained shirts: "Your blood flowed to defend our country," they said, "and we wish to keep these memories of it." These men, not long ago so strong, so robust, now deprived of an arm or a leg or with head bandaged, bear their misfortune with resignation. But, thus incapable of continuing in the army and earning bread for their families, they already with bitterness, behold themselves, after their return to their native land, objects of commiseration and pity, a care to others and to themselves.
In one of the hospitals of Milan, a sergeant of the Zouave Guard, with an energetic and proud face, who has had one leg amputated and had borne that operation without a complaint, was seized, some time after, with extreme sadness, although his health was improving and his recovery rapidly taking place. This sadness, increasing daily, was incomprehensible. A Sister of Charity, perceiving tears in his eyes, questioned so insistently that he at last confessed that he was the sole support of his aged and infirm mother to whom he used to send each month five francs of his pay. He added that, being unable to help her, this poor woman must be in great need of money. The Sister of Charity, touched with compassion, gave him five francs, the value of which was immediately sent to France. When the directress of the hospital wished to make him another gift, he would not accept it, and said to her thankfully: "Keep this money for others who need it more than I; as for my mother, I hope next month to send her her usual allowance, for I count on soon being able to work."
A lady of Milan, bearing an illustrious name, placed at the disposition of the wounded one of her palaces, with one hundred and fifty beds. Among the soldiers, lodged in this magnificent mansion, was a grenadier of the Seventieth Regiment of the French Infantry, who, having undergone an operation, was in danger of death. The lady, trying to console him, spoke to him of his family. He told her that he was the only son of poor peasants in the Department of Gers, and that he was very sad at leaving his parents in misery, for he alone provided for their maintenance. He added that his greatest consolation would be to kiss his mother before he died. Saying nothing to him of her project, the noble lady suddenly decides to leave Milan, takes the train, reaches the Departments of Gers, near the family, whose address she has procured, takes possession of the mother of the wounded man. After having left a large sum of money for the infirm old father, she brings the humble villager with her to Milan; and six days after the confession of the grenadier, the son kisses his mother, weeping and blessing his benefactress.
But why recall so many pitiful and melancholy scenes and thus arouse such painful emotions? Why relate, with complaisance, these lamentable details and dwell upon these distressing pictures?
To this very natural question we reply with another question.
Would it not be possible to establish in every country of Europe, Aid Societies, whose aim would be to provide, during war, volunteer nurses for the wounded, without distinction of nationality?
As they wish us to give up the desires and hopes of the Societies of the Friends of Peace, the beautiful dreams of the Abbot of Saint Pierre and of Count Sellon; as men continue to kill each other without personal enmity, and as the height of glory in war is to exterminate the greatest number possible; as they still dare to say, as did Count Joseph de Maistre, that "war is divine"; as they invent every day with a perseverence worthy of a better aim, instruments of destruction more and more terrible, and as the inventors of these death-dealing engines are encouraged by all the European governments—who arm themselves in emulation one of another—why not profit from a moment of comparative calm and tranquillity in order to settle the question which we have just raised, and which is of such great importance from the double point of view of humanity and Christianity.
Once presented to the consideration of every man, this theme will probably call forth opinions and writings from more competent persons; but, first, must not this idea, presented to the different branches of the great European family, hold the attention and conquer the sympathies of all those who possess an elevated soul and a heart capable of being moved by the suffering of their fellow-men?
Such is the purpose for which this book has been written.