Dr. Elsie Inglis

‘At her own request her sister read to her words of the life beyond – “Let not your heart be troubled – In my Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so I would have told you,” and, even as they watched her, she fell on sleep.

‘After she had left us, there remained with those that loved her only a great sense of triumph and perfect peace. The room seemed full of a glorious presence. One of us said, “This is not death; it makes one wish to follow after.”’

As ‘We’ waited those anxious weeks for the news of the arrival of Dr. Inglis and her Army, there were questionings, how we should welcome and show her all love and service. The news quickly spread she was not well – might be delayed in reaching London; the manner of greeting her must be to ensure rest.

The storm had spent itself, and the moon was riding high in a cloudless heaven, when others waiting in Edinburgh on the 26th learnt the news that she too had passed through the storm and shadows, and had crossed the bar.

That her work here was to end with her life had not entered the minds of those who watched for her return, overjoyed to think of seeing her face once more. She had concealed her mortal weakness so completely, that even to her own the first note of warning had come with the words that she had landed, but was in bed: – ‘then we thought it was time one of us should go to her.’

Her people brought her back to the city of her fathers, and to the hearts who had sent her forth, and carried her on the wings of their strong confidence. There was to be no more going forth of her active feet in the service of man, and all that was mortal was carried for the last time into the church she had loved so well. Then we knew and understood that she had been called where His servants shall serve Him.

The Madonna lilies, the lilies of France and of the fields, were placed around her. Over her hung the torn banners of Scotland’s history. The Scottish women had wrapped their country’s flag around them in one of their hard-pressed flights. On her coffin, as she lay looking to the East in high St. Giles’, were placed the flags of Great Britain and Serbia.

She had worn ‘the faded ribbons’ of the orders bestowed on her by France, Russia, and Serbia. It has often been asked at home and abroad why she had received no decorations at the hands of her Sovereign. It is not an easy question to answer.

On November the 29th, Dr. Inglis was buried, amid marks of respect and recognition which make that passing stand alone in the history of the last rites of any of her fellow-citizens. Great was the company gathered within the church. The chancel was filled by her family and relatives – her Suffrage colleagues, representatives from all the societies, the officials of the hospitals and hostels she had founded at home, the units whom she had led and by whose aid she had done great things abroad. Last and first of all true-hearted mourners the people of Serbia represented by their Minister and members of the Legation. The chief of the Scottish Command was present, and by his orders military honours were paid to this happy warrior of the Red Cross.

The service had for its keynote the Hallelujah Chorus, which was played as the procession left St. Giles’. It was a thanksgiving instinct with triumph and hope. The Resurrection and the Life was in prayer and praise. The Dean of the Order of the Thistle revealed the thoughts of many hearts in his farewell words: —

‘We are assembled this day with sad but proud and grateful hearts to remember before God a very dear and noble lady, our beloved sister, Elsie Inglis, who has been called to her rest. We mourn only for ourselves, not for her. She has died as she lived, in the clear light of faith and self-forgetfulness, and now her name is linked for ever with the great souls who have led the van of womanly service for God and man. A wondrous union of strength and tenderness, of courage and sweetness, she remains for us a bright and noble memory of high devotion and stainless honour. Especially to-day, in the presence of representatives of the land for which she died, we think of her as an immortal link between Serbia and Scotland, and as a symbol of that high courage which will sustain us, please God, till that stricken land is once again restored, and till the tragedy of war is eradicated and crowned with God’s great gifts of peace and of righteousness.’

The buglers of the Royal Scots sounded ‘the Reveille to the waking morn,’ and the coffin with the Allied flags was placed on the gun carriage. Women were in the majority of the massed crowd that awaited the last passing. ‘Why did they no gie her the V.C.?’ asked the shawl-draped women holding the bairns of her care: these and many another of her fellow-citizens lined the route and followed on foot the long road across the city. As the procession was being formed, Dr. Inglis’ last message was put into the hands of the members of the London Committee for S.W.H. It ran: —

‘November 26, 1917.

‘So sorry I cannot come to London. Dr. Williams and Dr. Ward are agreed, and quite rightly. Will send Gwynn in a day or two with explanations and suggestions. Colonel Miliantinovitch and Colonel Tcholah Antitch were to make appointment this week or next from Winchester; do see them, and also as many of the committee as possible and show them every hospitality. They have been very kind to us, and whatever happens, dear Miss Palliser, do beg the Committee to make sure that they (the Serbs) have their hospitals and transport, for they do need them.

‘Many thanks to the Committee for their kindness to me and their support of me.

‘Elsie Inglis.

‘Dictated to Miss Evelyn Simson.’

How the people loved her! was the thought, as she passed through the grief-stricken crowds. These, who knew her best, smiled as they said one to another, ‘How all this would surprise her!’

Edinburgh is a city of spires and of God’s acres, the graves cut in the living rock, within gardens and beside running waters. Across the Water of Leith the long procession wound its way. Within sight of the grave, it was granted to her grateful brethren, the representatives of the Serbian nation, to carry her coffin, and lower it to the place where the mortal in her was to lie in its last rest. Her life’s story was grouped around her – the Serbian officers, the military of her own nation at war, the women comrades of the common cause, the poor and suffering – to one and all she had been the inspiring succourer.

November mists had drifted all day across the city, veiling the fortress strength of Scotland, and the wild wastes of seas over which she had returned home to our island strength. Even as we turned and left her, the grey clouds at eventide were transfused and glorified by the crimson glow of the sunset on the hills of Time.