As the War Christmas drew in sight, kind Princess Mary suddenly bethought herself how nice it would be to send each of our sailors and soldiers a Christmas gift, or rather a Christmas parcel. Her Royal Highness accordingly issued a touching appeal to the public. It was responded to with great eagerness and enthusiasm. As a result five articles were sent to each man on active service, from Sir John French and Sir John Jellicoe to the youngest private or sailor serving under him. Every parcel contained some tobacco in a brass box on which was engraved, in a medallion, the names of the Allies, the proud words “Imperium Britannicum,” and a portrait of Princess Mary.
I feel I cannot end a record of gallant and merciful deeds more suitably than with the beautiful supplication for peace written by a French prince, Charles of Orleans, when a prisoner in England five hundred years ago.
I have not attempted to find or to provide a translation, for this poem, written in what a boy poet once called stained-glass-window French, is perfect, full of the humble piety and unquestioning faith of an age more trusting and holier than ours.
“Priez pour paix, douce Vierge Marie,
Reine des cieux et du monde maistresse,
Faites prier, par vostre courtaisie,
Saints et saintes, et prenez vostre adresse
Vers vostre fils, requérant sa hautesse
Qu’il lui plaise son peuple regarder
Que de son sang a voulu racheter,