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I have, within the last two days, been present at a meeting of a committee of women Poor Law Guardians in one of our great provincial cities. They were engaged, no doubt unconsciously, in a game which, for want of a better name, I must call girl-baiting. I saw a young expectant mother cruelly handled, and tortured with bitter words and threats; an ordeal which she will have had to endure at the hands of four different sets of officials by the time her baby is three weeks old. These guardians told her, in my presence, that they hoped she would suffer severely for her wrong-doing, that they considered that her own mother, who had treated her kindly, had been too lenient, and that her sin was so great that she ought to be ashamed to be a cost to self-respecting ratepayers.
They added that the man who was responsible for her condition was very good to have acknowledged his paternity, but expressed the belief, nay, rather the hope, that he would take an early opportunity of getting out of his obligation. Meanwhile, a pale, trembling girl, within a month of her confinement, stood, like a hunted animal, in the presence of such judges.
We pray constantly in our churches for “all women labouring of child, sick persons, and young children, the fatherless, the widows, and all that are desolate and oppressed,” and yet we continue this oppression of the desolate.
Yours faithfully,
DOROTHEA IRVING
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air sewage
1 November 1918
Sir, Few of us can do more than pass a very short period of the day in the open air. In a country in which a large proportion of the inhabitants spend most of their lives in industrial occupations, it is wiser to teach them the importance of introducing fresh air into their houses than to urge them to the impossible duty of spending much of their time out of doors.
If we devote, on average, eight hours to sleep, then a third at least of our 24-hour day is spent indoors, and each individual who reaches 60 years of life will have passed no less than 20 years of his existence in the one and only room where he is likely to be sole arbiter of the ventilation. Unless there are exceptional conditions, the windows of every sleeping room should be wide open all night and every night. The blinds should be drawn up, otherwise, from their valve-like action, they will only permit intermittent and uncertain ingress of fresh air, while the only egress for devitalized air is by the inadequate route of the chimney. The hours of night should also be employed for regularly and continuously flushing all day-rooms, where sewage air is manufactured in such quantities that it is never adequately scavenged during working hours. I know of crowded offices where the ventilation is imperfect through the day, and where the windows are all religiously closed up every night, so that the next morning the workers start by breathing more or less sewage air. The windows of many workrooms, hotels, schools, banks, churches and clubs are regularly “shut up for the night”. It has been shown that the sense of fatigue is more the consequence of breathing devitalized and stagnant air than of any other single factor. There is no harm in a room or railway carriage being warmed, if the air is regularly changed as it is used up. Scavenging our air sewage ensures a supply of fresh air. It is our chief safeguard against the onset or severity of influenza. The possibility of “a draught” — still a bogy to many — is best avoided by remembering that doors should be kept closed and windows kept open.
In 1867 Ruskin wrote: “A wholesome taste for cleanliness and fresh air is one of the final attainments of humanity.” Let us hope that this attainment may be advanced by the lessons of science applied in the present epidemic.
ST. CLAIR THOMSON
The letter was written during the 1918 Spanish flu outbreak. An estimated 20 million to 50 million people died worldwide.
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doing your bit
24 June 1919
Sir, It is now a truism to say that in August 1914, the nation was face to face with the greatest crisis in her history. She was saved by the free will offerings of her people. The best of her men rushed to the colours; the best of her women left their homes to spend and be spent; the best of her older men worked as they had never worked before, to a common end, and with a sense of unity and fellowship as new as it was exhilarating. It may be that in four and half years the ideals of many became dim, but the spiritual impetus of those early days carried the country through to the end.
To-day on the eve of peace, we are faced with another crisis, less obvious but none the less searching. The whole country is exhausted. By natural reaction, not unlike that which led to the excesses of the Restoration after the reign of the Puritans, all classes are in danger of being submerged on a wave of extravagance and materialism. It is so easy to live on borrowed money; so difficult to realise that you are doing so.
It is so easy to play; so hard to learn that you cannot play for long without work. A fool’s paradise is only the ante-room to a fool’s hell.
How can a nation be made to understand the gravity of the financial situation; that love of country is better than love of money?
This can only be done by example and the wealthy classes have to-day an opportunity of service which can never recur.
They know the danger of the present debt; they know the weight of it in the years to come. They know the practical difficulties of a universal statutory capital levy. Let them impose upon themselves, each as he is able, a voluntary levy. It should be possible to pay to the Exchequer within twelve months such a sum as would save the tax payer 50 millions a year.
I have been considering this matter for nearly two years, but my mind moves slowly; I dislike publicity, and I had hoped that somebody else might lead the way. I have made as accurate an estimate as I am able of the value of my own estate, and have arrived at a total of about £580,000. I have decided to realize 20% of that amount or say £120,000 which will purchase £150,000 of the new War Loan, and present it to the Government for cancellation.
I give this portion of my estate as a thank-offering in the firm conviction that never again shall we have such a chance of giving our country that form of help which is so vital at the present time.
Yours, etc.,
F.S.T.
The writer refers to ‘the eve of peace’ as the letter was written a few days before the Treaty of Versailles was signed on 28 June 1919.
The initials F.S.T. stood for Financial Secretary to the Treasury — Stanley Baldwin, who would become prime minister for the first time in 1923. His net worth was equivalent to about £50 million now. The scheme he proposed does not appear to have caught on.
* * * * * * *
Here’s how
15 July 1919
Sir, Will you permit an elderly man, who is not a politician nor a public character, but merely an individual among millions of honest, sober persons whose liberty is attacked by a moral tyranny, to state an opinion with regard to the crusade which is being started against moderate drinkers?
It is not needed even in the cause of morality. That drunkenness has not entirely ceased is obvious, but that it is rapidly declining, from the natural action of civilization, is equally obvious. When I was a child, even in the country village where I was brought up, excess in drinking was patent in every class of society. Now, in my very wide circle of various acquaintances, I do not know of one single man or woman who is ever seen “under the influence of liquor”. Why not leave the process of moderation, so marked within 60 years, to pursue its normal course?
It is untrue to say that a limited and reasonable use of alcohol is injurious to mind, or body, or morality. My father, whose life was one of intense intellectual application, and who died, from the result of an accident, in his 79th year, was the most rigidly conscientious evangelical I have ever known.
He would have been astonished to learn that his claret and water at his midday meal, and his glass of Constantia when he want to bed, were either sinful in themselves or provocative to sin in others. There is no blessing upon those who invent offences for pleasure of giving pain and who lay burdens wantonly on the liberty of others. We have seen attempts by the fantastically righteous to condemn those who eat meat, who go to see plays, those who take walks on Sundays. The campaign against the sober use of wine and beer is on a footing with these efforts, and should be treated as they have been. Already tobacco is being forbidden to the clergy!
The fact that Americans are advertised as organizing and leading the campaign should be regarded with alarm. It must, I think, be odious to all right-thinking Americans in America. We do not express an opinion, much less do we organize a propaganda against “dryness” in the United States. The conditions of that country differ extremely from our own. It is not for us to interfere in their domestic business. If Englishmen went round America urging Americans to defy their own laws and revolt against their national customs, we should be very properly indignant. Let crusading Americans be taught the same reticence. It was never more important than it is now for Great Britain and the United States to act in harmony, and to respect each the habits and prejudices of the other.
These considerations may be commonplace; I hope they are. But many people seem afraid of saying in public what they are unanimously saying in private. The propagandist teetotaler is active and unscrupulous. He does not hesitate to bring forward evidence, or to attach moral opprobrium to his opponents. He fights with all weapons, whether they are clean or no. We must openly resist, without fear of consequences, what those of us who share my view judge to be cruel and ignorant fanaticism of these apostles. We should offer no apology for insisting on retaining our liberty.
I am, Sir, your obedient servant,
EDMUND GOSSE
The next year, the sale of alcohol was banned in the United States: Prohibition.
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The Future of War
6 November 1919
Sir, By land and sea the approaching prodigious aircraft development knocks out the present Fleet, makes invasion impracticable, cancels our country being an island, and transforms the atmosphere into the battle-ground of the future.
I say to the Prime Minister there is only one thing to do to the ostriches who are spending these vast millions (“which no man can number”) on what is as useful for the next war as bows and arrows! — “Sack the lot.”
Yours,
FISHER
Admiral of the Fleet Lord Fisher
Postscript.—As the locusts swarmed over Egypt so will the aircraft swarm in the heavens, carrying (some of them) inconceivable cargoes of men and bombs, some fast, some slow. Some will act like battle cruisers, others as destroyers. All cheap and (this is the gist of it) requiring only a few men as the crew.
No one’s imagination can as yet depict it all. If I essayed it now I should be called a lunatic. I gently forecast it in January, 1915, and more vividly on July 11, 1918. We have the star guiding us, if only we will follow it.
Time and the Ocean and some fostering star
In high cabal — have made us what we are!
On Friday last the presiding genius at the “Marine Engineers” said, “The day of oil fuel and the oil engine had arrived.” In 1885 I was called an “oil maniac.” — Nunc Dimittis
The former First Sea Lord Jackie Fisher was a prolific and often percipient correspondent to The Times on naval matters, and blessed with an inimitable style of writing. He died in 1920, before much of his vision of future warfare was vindicated.
NEW TIMES AND
NEW STANDARDS
1920–29
To-day’s young men
3 August 1921
Sir, May I, as a middle-aged spectator, write a few words in your columns to call attention to a curious change in the younger generation of men now, or lately, in residence at the universities, and of ages from 20 to 25?
In many essentials they are the same young men as those of 20 years ago. They are generous and loyal; they are gentle and kind hearted; they are full of spirit and pluck. But there is one great difference. More than ever before in the history of youth do they defy discipline and worship independence. More than ever do they brush aside experience and do exactly as they please.
The writer’s observations are based chiefly on recent visits to the universities, on watching cricket matches, and on meeting the younger men in private houses and at tennis and golf.
Many of them, when they are talking to other persons, including people older than themselves, never take their pipes out of their mouths. When asked to luncheon with hostesses in London many of them appear in under-graduate clothes and flannel collars. When they are in London they never dress for dinner except in case of absolute necessity. They often associate with very odd friends, and with the female companions of these odd friends. At the Eton and Harrow match the writer saw in the pavilion a group of young men who were, for any other occasion, rather nicely dressed. They wore blue serge suits, summer shirts and Zingari1 (#ulink_31e87766-5130-5355-8d98-05fb9b6621de) straw hats. But had they not forgotten that the 1,200 boys who were present were wearing, compulsorily, the kit which for generations had been honoured and welcomed in London as one of the most charming sights of the ceremonial year, and that the great majority of grown-up people who came to the match were showing their respect for the boys by donning the same kind of dress?
The last point I wish to mention is that young men are showing an increasing toleration and fondness for lawn tennis. Breaking away from the general opinion of the masters of our public schools, and from the athletic traditions of many decades of university life, a number of men who might have been fine cricketers devote themselves entirely to “pat-ball,” and while Australia triumphs on the cricket field the youth of England wanders from county to county and from tournament to tournament in pursuit of the trophies and tea parties of this effeminate game.
If an older friend ever dares to point out any of these things to them in a friendly and bantering way, the answer is always the same:—“You are the most dreadful snob we ever met. We intend to do exactly as we like.”
I leave the issue there. It may be that it is the substance, and not the form, which matters. But for those who value form the question must arise. If this is the form of the beginning of their lives, how will they train their own offspring? How will they save themselves from being judged as
Nos nequiores mox daturos
Progeniem vitiosiorem? 2 (#ulink_3fd2ac7c-b4b1-596a-8e03-f88e63f1a096)
I am, &c.,
OLD ETONIAN
1 (#ulink_dc9fe030-e283-5ff6-a956-ac391355c6ef) I Zingari (“gypsies” in Italian) is the name of a cricket club that then drew its members from old boys of the leading public schools.
2 (#ulink_1d6e3079-efca-5947-97d4-9de910b1cd40) For the benefit of those who did not study Horace at Eton, the Latin tag translates roughly as “We, who are worse than our parents, will soon have children who are even more unbearable.”
Replied on 4 August 1921
Sir, May I, as a young man (and, incidentally, an Old Wykehamist), make some reply to the accusations of “Old Etonian”? It would be strange indeed if “a curious change” was not to be observed in the younger generation of to-day. Without making the too common claim that we “won the war,” we may at least remind your correspondent that for three or four years we were subject to such a discipline as he and his like have never known, and never will know. We spent a large, an incredibly large, proportion of that time absorbing the notions of “middle aged men” concerning matters of form, matters of dress and “smartness” and sartorial respect. We were told that these things were more than matters of form; they were essential to efficiency. But we saw that many an uncouth miners’ battalion was as valiant and efficient in the field as Guards themselves; we saw that those senior officers who were most busy about ritual details of “smartness” were often the most stupid, pig-headed, and inhuman; we saw “experience” fussing about salutes and forgetting about the men’s food; and it is not surprising if we have learned to set our own value on matters of form.
Even so, no young man that I have met claims to do “exactly as he pleases” in this respect, though we may have found new standards. It is possible, for example, that the young men in “blue serge suits, &c.” regarded their costume as more beautiful and becoming than the funereal top-hattery of the rest of Lord’s. But surely, we may be allowed to play what games we like? “Old Etonian” regards lawn tennis as a young woman’s game; I regard cricket as an old woman’s game. Lethargic, slow, it seems to me to consume a period of time grossly disproportionate to the energy expended by the average individual player; and it seems to me to be a pious myth that cricket is more unselfish than tennis. No doubt there is effeminate lawn tennis, as there is effeminate cricket (“tea parties” and all); but let “Old Etonian” go to Wimbledon, to any tournament, and dare to describe what he sees as “pat-ball.”
Nevertheless, I do not object to any man playing cricket, if he can tolerate the game, though I see numbers of men who might have been fine tennis players wandering from county to county and alternately standing about and sitting about in front of ill-mannered and ill-dressed cricket crowds, while America triumphs on the tennis lawn. I only ask for the same liberty for ourselves.
I should not dream of calling your correspondent a “snob.” But I would ask him to go a little deeper. If he had pursued his researches at the universities he would have been told by any of the authorities that the average post-war undergraduate displayed an industry or keenness unlike anything that was known before the war. It is conceivable that the young men who go to luncheons in flannel collars do so because they have work to do before and after the meal. If he goes to the stalls on a first night he will see two or three young men in ordinary clothes. They are dramatic critics, and they will be earning their living till 2 o’clock in the morning. Snobbery is not his complaint, but lack of imagination.
As for our offspring, I beg that he will leave them alone. He is right in supposing that they will not be brought up as we were brought up.
I am, Sir, yours, &c.,
A. P. HERBERT
Alan Herbert, the humourist and future MP, had fought at Gallipoli and on the Western Front after leaving Oxford.
Replied on 4 August 1921
Sir, “Old Etonian” deserves the thanks of the nation for exposing so lucidly the lack of manners and terrible effeminacy of our young men of to-day. At a reception which I attended recently I was astounded to note that not a single man was wearing knee breeches and ruffles and the ladies had completely discarded the crinoline. Instead of the sweeping bow, the delicate curtsey, and the gentle inquiry as to health, we find a revolting hearty handshake and an indelicate remark about stuffiness of the atmosphere. I was pained to see young men and — horribile dictu — young women smoking an abomination called a cigarette, and when I produced my patent folding churchwarden pipe there was a mild sensation.
In my young days we rollicked the summer days away playing croquet and bowls, but now the jeunesse dorée indulge in the grossly effeminate pastimes of golf and lawn tennis. It is indeed sad to see that a stalwart soldier like Earl Haig should have deserted the inspiring and breathlessly exciting game of croquet for that of hitting a stupid little ball round the countryside with an iron-headed stick.
“Old Etonian” need have no fear of being dubbed a snob. Far from it. He is of that gallant band who during the war would have insisted, had he been able, upon the tanks being decorated with inscribed standards and being heralded into action by the massed bands of the Brigade of Guards, flanked by the Life Guards in full-dress uniform, or Grand Rounds at dead of night making his inspection of trenches fully cuirassed to a fanfare of trumpets and preceded by a choir of seven lance-corporals chanting “Floreat Etona.”
Yours, &c.,
RAYMOND SAVAGE
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RatSkin Gloves
28 January 1920
Sir, Is it not possible in these times of a world shortage of raw material (especially leather) for such serviceable articles as rat skins to be put to some useful purpose? It will be generally conceded that if a market can be found or created for such skins it will be an incentive for the destruction of these noxious rodents, which is so essential. It is possible there are at present a few buyers, but so far I have been unable to discover them. Any information on this point will be appreciated. For someone with enterprise and imagination rat skins should be a sound commercial proposition — they would make excellent leather purses and gloves.
Yours faithfully,
GEORGE L. MOORE
* * * * * * *
repression IN IRELAND
14 September 1920
Sir, On August 24 a conference in Dublin of moderate men of all parties demanded, amongst other things, as the preliminary condition of an Irish settlement the abandonment of the policy of repression.
Few Englishmen have any idea of the lengths to which this policy has been carried. Most Englishmen know simply that some 80 members of the Royal Irish Constabulary have been murdered, and they take it for granted that the Government’s repressive measures are necessary to put an end to these outrages, and that they are designed for this and no other purpose. Consequently, the actual state of government and justice in Ireland has not been scrutinized carefully, and Englishmen hear little of proceedings that are bringing danger and dishonour upon us. If these proceedings were a kind to put an end to outrages and not to cause further mischief, they would not have called down the condemnation of men like Lord Monteagle, Lord Shaftesbury, Sir Horace Plunkett, and the other leading Irishmen who took part in the conference at Dublin.
The Coercion Act, with the regulations issued for is administration, marks the climax of this policy. Court-martial justice will become the rule. It is provided that men may be kept indefinitely in prison without trial. A Court may sit in secret. If a Court believes that a particular person is able to give evidence, he or she may be arrested. Any person who does an act with a view to promoting or calculated to promote the objects of an lawful association is guilty of an offence against these regulations. As the Gaelic League, which was founded to revive Irish culture, and Dail Eireann1 (#ulink_69da0914-f740-540c-9866-0f334e089309), which represents two-thirds of the Irish people, are unlawful associations, all but a small minority of Irishmen may be convicted on this charge. This is not a system of justice adapted for the detection and punishment of crime; it is designed for the punishment of a political movement, and it puts every Irishman who holds the opinions held by the great majority of Irishmen at mercy of the military authorities.
These authorities are the officers of an army employed on a task hateful to British soldiers and living in an atmosphere of bitter hostility to the native population. Indignation has been naturally excited in this army by a series of murders which the Government been unable to punish. Discipline has broken down. A sort of military lynch law is in force, applied not to the culprits but to the villages and towns of Ireland. It is not an uncommon experience for whole streets to be burnt, creameries2 (#ulink_2a7affcc-897e-5ce1-bd3d-a86bee078473) destroyed, and life taken in the indiscriminate reprisals by which soldiers and policemen avenge murder of constables. Not for a century has there been an outbreak of military violence in these islands. The Government have failed to restrain or punish this violence, and they have now taken steps to prevent any civilian Court from calling attention to it. They have issued an order forbidding the holding of coroners’ inquests in nine counties. This removes the last vestige of protection from the civilian population. In the “Manual of Military Law” it is laid down that, whereas a man acquitted or convicted by a civil Court may not be retried by military Court, a person subject to military law is not to be exempted from the civil-law by reason of his military status. The Government have now decided that if soldiers or policemen fire a town or shoot civilians they are to be immune from the danger of an inquiry by a Court not under military direction.
