Part 31 (1/2)

”She is going to be the hit of the show,” Miles said, grinning at Nurse Willis.

The Ingham family walked through the park, heading for the village of Little Skell. Nurse Willis, pus.h.i.+ng Alicia in the pram, was the leader, along with Nanny Clarice and Dulcie, walking hand in hand. This amused Charles. As usual, Dulcie had to be the first, no matter what.

He followed behind them with Hugo, Lady Gwendolyn, Daphne, DeLacy, Guy, and Miles. As he glanced at his family, he felt a little surge of pride. They were, each one of them, individuals in their own right, confident and secure and well behaved. Not to mention good-looking.

When they reached the church hall, a bevy of Swanns was there to greet them: Charlotte, Alice, Cecily, and Harry, with their father, Walter, who had been given permission to be present by Charles.

Percy was there with his wife, Edna, and their thirteen-year-old son, Joe, who was a junior woodsman, and Percy's nephew, Bill, head landscape gardener at Cavendon at twenty-eight.

There was a lot of cheering and clapping as the Inghams trooped into the church hall. Once things had calmed down, Charles went and stood in front of his villagers and spoke to them in his usual well-modulated voice, his charisma holding them spellbound.

”I've come here with my family to speak to you about the war. Unfortunately, the countess is in London and was unable to join us today, but she sends her best wishes, as does our daughter Lady Diedre, who is also away.

”I believe all of us here today know what we must do, and that is to support our country in its hour of greatest need. That is what we of the three Ingham villages are going to do most wholeheartedly, as we have done in other times of strife and trouble in our land.

”I know Lord Kitchener has raised an army of one hundred thousand men, who will be s.h.i.+pping out soon to fight in the fields of Flanders. The army is still requesting men from the ages of eighteen to thirty to volunteer. Single men at the moment. And those who feel they must go to the front must do so.

”I am not going to tell anyone what they can or cannot do, because this is a free country. We make our own choices as Englishmen. What I do ask is that married men consider their options. It might be wise to wait until married men are called to duty, because of their family responsibilities.

”I must explain something to you. I am converting two wings of Cavendon Hall into hospital wards. We have been alerted that the government might need beds for our wounded troops coming back from the front. I would like to ask any of you who have nursing or medical skills to volunteer now, to help with the wounded later. Miss Charlotte is starting a list today to hold in reserve.

”There might be rationing of food, since we won't be able to import. That is why I am relying on our tenant farmers to keep tilling the land.

”I will end by saying that we are in this great fight together. We will stand together shoulder to shoulder, to bring victory to our country. And we shall prevail. Now Miss Mayhew will play the national anthem, and then refreshments will be served.”

There was clapping and cheering and then Miss Viola Mayhew, the church organist, began to thump the piano in one corner of the hall, and the voices of the villagers rang to the rafters as they began to sing: ”G.o.d save our gracious king, long live our n.o.ble king, G.o.d save the king. Send him victorious, happy and glorious, long may he reign over us, G.o.d save the king.”

When the national anthem finally finished, many of the men came to speak with their earl, asking crucial questions about the war, earnestly seeking his advice.

As usual, Charles Ingham, the Sixth Earl of Mowbray, listened attentively, and answered them all with graciousness, respect, and kindness, which was his way.

And the women of the three villages flocked around the women of Cavendon Hall, and especially the children, and as Miles had predicted, baby Alicia, in her Silver Cross pram, was indeed the star of the show.

By August 20 the first four divisions of the British Expeditionary Force had crossed the English Channel, and by early September the fifth and sixth divisions had followed.

Not a s.h.i.+p was sunk, not a life was lost. It was called a triumph for Winston Churchill, brilliant leader and militant trustee of the British Royal Navy.

Great Britain mobilized for war with ferocity and enormous speed. Every citizen was affected in some way or other as the grim days sped on, and on, and on. Endless days which seemed without hope.

The guns which had started to roar in August went on roaring through the following months and into the new year. Suddenly it was 1915 and success was nowhere in sight.

Hundreds of thousands of young men had died on the blood-soaked fields of Belgium and France. And as the dead piled up, the wounded were being s.h.i.+pped home to Britain, the country they loved and had fought for so bravely.

Part Four.

RIVER OF BLOOD.

May 1916November 1918.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he today who sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.

-William Shakespeare.

If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; And laugher, learnt of friends; and gentleness, In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

-Rupert Brooke.

Fifty-one.

Daphne sat at her desk in the conservatory, making the work sheet for the coming week. She glanced at her daily engagement book: Today was Sunday, May 28, 1916.

Nineteen sixteen, she said under her breath, wondering what had happened to time. It had pa.s.sed so quickly, she was momentarily startled.

Her eye caught the photograph of Guy and Miles in the silver frame, the two of them looking so grown-up and handsome. Hugo had taken it last summer on the terrace. Miles was still at Eton, but Guy was at the front, fighting in France with the Seaforth Highlanders, a regiment favored by many Yorks.h.i.+re men.

She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes, thinking of her brother, and saying a silent prayer for his safety. She did this every morning and every night, as she knew her father did. He had not wanted Guy to join up, but her eldest brother had explained to their father why he must go.

Like all of the Inghams, he was patriotic, loved his country, and was proud of his heritage. Their father had finally given in.

But Daphne realized her father had not had any alternative. Guy was of age and could do as he wished. They all worried about Guy. The news from the front line was horrific, seemed to grow worse every day. Thousands upon thousands of young men had been slaughtered. And as the dead piled up on foreign fields, the wounded were brought home to be treated and healed.

The two wings at Cavendon were now filled. Once the war had started in 1914, her father had immediately converted the North and West Wings.

All of the antiques, paintings, and precious objects had been taken up to the attics to be stored, and extra beds were moved in. Her father had, in the end, had to buy additional beds so that the largest possible number of wounded soldiers could be accommodated.

The entire staff at Cavendon had pitched in, in order to turn those beautiful eighteenth-century rooms into hospital wards.

Once the wounded had started to arrive, the women from the villages had come to help, as had all of the Swann women, and she herself. DeLacy and Cecily also did their bit in different ways.

It was a joint effort, and it was working well. Dr. Shawcross supervised everything, and came to Cavendon every day. Her father had hired several matrons to run the wards, as well as professional nursing staff, and doctors. He had also purchased all of the equipment needed to make the wings as efficient as possible.

Her father was a wonder. He was managing the estate as best he could; this was a difficult task, since so many men had left the three villages to go and fight the enemy. But their wives had taken over, many with great skill, and the tenant farms continued to run.

Teenage boys, too young to go to war, helped out, and so did teenage girls and young women. Daphne was constantly amazed how everyone pulled together to properly ensure that things continued as normally as possible.

Eventually Daphne finished her list, and read through it one more time. Today she was off, and would be able to have lunch with her father and Hugo. It would be just the three of them because DeLacy was on duty in the other wings. As was Cecily.