New Britain Herald Newspaper, December 18, 1918, Page 13

The sacred soil of France By Charles Henry Brent Formerly FEpiscopal Bishop of the Philippines and Chaplain of the American Ezpeditionary Forces *I I should die, think only this of me That there’s somc corner of a for- eign field is jorever shall be In that rich conceal’d ; 4 dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave once her flowers to love, her ways to roam.” That Eng.and. There carth a richer dust Copyright. 1918, by Public Ledger Co. SO WROTE an Englishman about to die. So though in terms of his own country many a son of America before he died. No eoldier passing down the far- flung Dbattleline of eastern France, where the long procession made of graves flanks the trenches, could fail to wonder whether his body, too, would Mot become part of the soil of a foreign land. The home folks may grieve that the time-honored custom of their dead placing in the family plot of the cemetery is displaced the grim necessity of this war. But their sons, who actually faced death, far afield from kith and kin, felt well content for the most part at the prospect of ?jn;: where they fell, with the un. ving glory of the cause lighting for- ever the field of contest. places which history cradles in it arms with special revercice, like Thermopylae and Gettysburg. But will any historic spot, ancient or modern, claim to rival in brilliancy the glory of the whole battlefront from Flanders to Lorraine, where the glow- ing lamp of liberty has been fed by e myriad lives laid down without a thought of self? No dead sleep with gTeater calm than those who rest be. neath the daisies and violets ana sunny jonquils of France. They coulq never be transported to a fairer bed than that which they have earned with the red of their own rich blood, We can afford to leave them not only with satisfaction, but also with pride, where they lie in a foreign land that ceases to be foreign because they are there, My first sight of the graves of those who had fallen on the field of honor was in the early spring of 1917, when 1 walked over part of the Marne, Peace reigned where once the battle had staggered and. swayed. Nature Quickly obliterates the scars inflicted by war upon her bosom. Here and by There are DR R The heroes there a crater marked where high- explosive shell bursts had made a gaping wound Occasionally a bit of broken equipment or r fragment of shrapnel might be seen. Yonder on PR But the landscape haq feature verywhere new oes ve that Jichi of in miformity v tho 1 seldom are the have thein neces racterizes umerous war exact]y French and Brit- of ex which is unmistakable. They a common universal use of lack- remeteries alike. ish two Of cours each own mode pression have, all of them character, due to the which 1 i in home buriil grounds. however the cross 2nity with their pompous mausolenms and sentimenta art. The the supren Christian peculiarly fitted to mark the last resting place of those who have laid down their for their friends. Let us walk down the line of graves stretching across the cemetery and r many cross, always symbol, is lives ance eac honor lie buried. Evidently the fight Identification date, as now in a common ach grave has or perhaps srouped under cross and & straight on its those who, last throb each with with cap or belt mark- ave. all alike claimed for the tricolor whose Ines have taken on a richer tone from ociation with sacrificial break the level Zentle mounds waxed hot this spot was not possible at that €0 many placed grave. Furthe:r its cross and graves arc arms of a stone monument to the face grouping memory had grouped together in the of life. Or again little plots its cros were along inseription separate the common shoots its shaft sky, a few word in many i a France by rosette their death, their surface with No one could fail to be struck .y the evident rever- ence with these bovs laid to rest. T which were touch R Rt e i cemetery ncar the skyline the plowman with the tn- evitable white horse of the French farm or the lumbering oxen registered his silhouette and proclaimed the re sumption of the manners of peace Ancient Customs Totter in This Revolution By Marion Prince Covyright. 1918, by Public Ledger Co. HE revolution in Germany is not the only one we may expect very soon to experience. Right here at home, under the able and vigorous leadership of Mr. Hoover, & crusade of the Kitchen is being waged—a crusade against those in- sldious allies of the boche, extrava- gance and wastefulnesss. There is no room for slackers in this crusade. Everybody from the most experienced and accomplished diner-out to the humblest and newest little housewife is lined up to present arms under the new regulations of the United States food administration, which went into effect on October 21, “The gospel of the clean plate,” although preached with new brilliance and effectiveness by Mr. Hoover and his allies, is not a new gospel. Our grandmothers’ idea that it is polite to leave a little food on one's plate is an idea that the e licst teach--a of table etiquette knew nothing about “If you have good food be not waste ful of it.” says one old book on table manners, and another, written 1430, urges the reader, quite in the manner of Mr. Hoover, to “ete up (his) Greediness and “glotony” are and in Caxton’s “Book tesye,” printed about 1477, oc following line, which might as a motto patriotic of you of in peces.” frowned upon in for ‘Fede delite.” 1n the same left-over food was not wasted served ove: again as “hash,” but it was put in the wel Amc neeessit today: not for spirit ind or even alms dish and at the conclusion of the meal was given Again and again the rged to “thinke the he is eating. As to behavior as now a cheerful countenance recognized as a good : » any din- ner. You are not to grumble if your vlate is taken away beforc you have finished; vou are the food whether it is good or bad,and “if you have not many dishes you should be satisfled with chatting ily.” But cheerfulness is not weried far and most of the admonitions- altogetl essary today loud laughing and talkin does no harm. hut vou to repent.” Indeed two of the French books further and contain the extraordinary bit of advice: “Do sleep at the table.” As we turn of these faded old provisions sound to To he longer kneel to the needy diner s u on poore” whi then was at table to praise chee to be too books contain not unnee- too silence perhaps, 3 , “for speech may cause old step courtesy g0 a not go to over the yellow leaves books many of the strangely familia no they the st Ed us sure onr children on one knee whe into the presence o house as the time com of the ward 1V ittl nor do ron’ ise hoar one who them. o panie” doff their how hefore caps and b addressed by th Good breedin “eurtas portant in days. Indec ter Scegar in his “Schoole of Vertue” those declares it to be even more valuable than playing the fiddle! And many of the old prohibitions still remain in force. Not to lean with one’s elbows on the table, not to eat, drink o talk with the mouth full, not to sup “potage” noisily, not to soil the cloth with the finger all these sound like echoes from own childhood. To burnish bones with the teeth “like a dogge” and to “m: sops of bread”—both more or less pe miksible under the regarded as shocking breaches of eti- quette. Tt find author of T Childrenes Lytil Book” gravely ers to take their food in but as forks had not been 1480, what chief adornment now the must our new seems stranze to the Caa bidding his their fingers, invented in could they the salt the 1 quite common else do? Lue the all which —of dij Bread must be cut, of table was inconspicuo cellar, an hooks forbid practice have bee ping meat into it never broken of our 1 must an intercsting rev 1 odern custom left in the dish. Th last i Huch i ma spoon not son for thi by Mast “Kinges Chappel contair yon da conomy, ound 1 would have hor- viministration, century, the of were cleantny Vegetables were food Unt teenth trenc 4 ¢ mad bread to use for stale ' ot thie Knives and spoons! Notre Dame de Lorette of there is which mark the battleficid the Marne. Here, for instance, a long. narrow inclosure with a rustic fence and a single inscription telling where 300 who fell on the field of of *he Table “potage” or virtual unknown, and soup, meats and fish with highly sea- soned sauces, bread and sweets made up the dinner. Here is the menu of “A Feste for a Bryde,” taken from an old manuscript of the early six- teenth century First Course—PBrawn with a boar’s head. venison, swan. Dpig, pheasant and custard Second Course sweet pudding, venison roasted, crane, coney, a haked meat Third Cream lozenges syrup. Venison in broth. a almonds, powdered baked Course of (wafers) in veal, partridge. plover, fish, a meat Fourth Coursc hot for rules “Payne-puff (pastry), cake. which the administration far as possi bread and table linen, of the food are urged to save as that was important feature fifteenth century The table three cloths, cheese As new in we ble- of a was covered with an meal one of which served tie purpose of the mod: of the two upper be frayed or ragged. must be clean. No sel wouid ern table pad. and these might yecting page able fully Bach and or waiter have heen to towel car oulder. h a napkin pesides these there were special towels serve unless he had a left was provided w draped over his uest washinz dinner. and napkins to he used for the hands before and after Bread wafers of the las as well the sweets and course, was serveil n an elaborately folded napkin, which littl lad eye on his master, puiled open “all in a i t ervin with one anxious momenit” before the astonished and de: lighted guests. no early forgetfulness those whose swift France— of carelessuess, from the living.for passage from earth and the world. ¢ But it 1s not only for her own dead that France has a tender care. Some- thing over two years ago the Ifrench Government offered to provide land for permanent resting places for Brit- ish officers and men at the cost of the TFrench nation, and “a law was passed which gave effect to this generous impulse on December 29, 1916.” More the Belgians made a similar offer. Since then suitable burial places® have been provided immedi- ately behind the lines and in connec- tion with the types of hos pitals. So far all inter- ments were made there, though there en the centingencies saved recently various as possible were occasions w of battle made isolated burial sary. The French, with that courte: and unerring delicacy of feeling which characteristic of them a nation, to maintain these cemeteries but the British Government and the Governments of ove dominions have undertaken ‘“to provide for their maintenance in perpetuity and have appointed an imperial war graves commission to care for the graves after the war.” Exhumation or re- offered rseas moval was against the law during ¢ war, and it is io be that the fitness of things are will not e disturbed by sentimentality, either by tha part of us hecause we have and her choicest ideals to our We have become part of cause we are pouring into vitality by our daily increasin: contri- bution of our nearest and best. The sacred dust of America should be com mitted for all time t: the safekceping of France and left ‘o constitute our pledge of fellowship and constancy in the to come, a- those hoped as they ourselves or o allies now has come nce has taken her hosom, be our Franca her es yet for together we reach out unwon gifts of it W . e storm had sub: tance of of the this where no n rude treatment wh ronc One of the earliest was in where bears of and each October 14, December 31, 1917. grave is a and in. giving name corps killed in died In somc addi- crosses had by comrades group of Australians cross and the map of Aus- tralia and a bit of Tasmania in a low rave the date 1914 Ove seription the last cross number, and whether of action or wounds, tional friends o instances been erected One had a common over graves was a “In Flanders fields where poppies grow” democracy which w. covet for our- selves and for the world. We cannot botter than the example of the British in their well organized and established system. We, as they, have a gr registr: tion department, and can count upon its reaching eventually the same high efficiency as that of our ally. The tion of every grave is registered, marked with a wooden cross and bear- ing a metal plate with an inscription of identification always uniform More than once I have the battle-scarved Vimy Ridge, made immortal by the Canadian corps the 9th of April a year ago. 1 recall one vast crater that told of the absolute obliteration of those who received the shock of the explosion which formed it. It has been converted most fit tingly into a cemetery of those who perished there. A recumbent and inscription. ingenious in concep tion execution, tell the tale. At another commanding point where the struggle was acute a massive monu- ment marks the spot and records the victory. Behind teries are given the same care as at home. They sown and planted with flowers and shrubs under the supervision of ex- perts. T know of no city of the dead more scemly and Christian than the many that have been built along the western battie front. of when ground was fought repeatedly the ruthless shells were as pitiless to the dead as to the living. A whole cemetery was fre- quently plowed into a wilderness. But do follow ves po- been over cross and the thoughtful are grass the lines ceme- course, over relief of informed zled marked white on the know new stones. 1'ntil I was puz- tion with super- subjc 15 to what mad < 1 found 1 the receptacle 1 paper of manent in- many an inverted bottle stition played The bottle, being for the purpose, contained identification pending per scription. The directorsof reglstration and engincers in response to the request of the relatives of Brit ish soldiers who pre- pared send a photograph any given grave. It is mailed card board frame and on an accompanying ven the name. rank and regiment, position of grave nearest railway station.’ It only a matter of time 'before will be prepared to do like- no part matter. the graves London, in fallen, is of in a have to card is initials, and the will America wise. Those who for any length of time in France and breathed the air of battle are more easily recon- led than friends at home to the seem- ing slight to sentiment of leaving their sacred dust unmolested in. its first grave. In our last war many of our dead were transported even from the far Philippines America, But the times have changed. It would be unscemly now perhaps it was seemly then to the remains of the fallen from where they are. They are among friends, the chosen friends by whosc they fought and fell A common ideal beckoned them, @ common cause united them, a common future awaits them. In life they were one, in death they are not divided. be have been to as as move side Napoleon’s Spirit Mirrored in Hands had ex- indica- BONAPARTE an APOLEON tremely short finge tion of an exceedingly quick wit and a desire to deal in great matters in a large way. The fingers were smooth: that there were no prominent knuckles: for Napoleon was impulsive and like a is, flash in his decisions. Short, smooth fingers are one of the bost an No sudden disarrangement of the action of the play of the lines prescribed to be spoken can throw a short, smooth fingereu actor into confusion. He will turn the adverse cccurrence advantage the applause of an audience from a circumstance which would utterly disconcert an actor lonz, knotty-jointed fingers. And where in history -s actor 1t assets of aetor or most ind gain who ha tere found than Na and gesture 4 more consummatc poleon, whose every pose! Napoleon’s hand middle umlition finger of the lless The index was as finger, and de- long sizn of a bour sive fo rule. an index o And the sec- lanx corresponding e possessed rcumen and judgment as that The so vas of a slender the character diplematic when had large thumbs will power. of a persons tremendous ond phs length, as so great an he in second ph waist-like istic of those who ar oceasion requires. The thira cussion was ever directing wili power, lanx appearance. of the outer opnosite’ to situated) lowest per (the side that thumb on which the was ex sure sign of a wraordinarily large, a e Napoleon's hand powerfu coupled with extreme selfishness. Of the lines in the palm of his hand the longest is the head line, which is the middic running from the per- cussion he thumb to the oppo- site percussion. This speaks of a tremendous amount mentality. Quite appropriat.ly for * much selfishness, the heart iine (the ine above the iiead line and parallel with it) slopcs more,and more toward the head line, into /hich it finally merges Th heart which indicates demonstrative in hi time, the Lead ascendinz until imagination, one near of person of lin. ns ai a point one who is extremely but, in sraduai by a cold calculating nature, the dictates of the affections: acguires heart are ent poleon’s borne out wife love, 1y suppressed. In Na- this reading is fully his treatment of his Josephine, whom, despite his he divorced to gain freedom to marry the Austrian Princess, Marie Louise, Mmperor Francis's daughter, for whom he cared nothing except for the prestige which she brought him. The line is that which begins under the head line and runs from the percussion to the wrist. Tts course is close to the thumh, thas leaving a comparatively n Il of the thumb—a m pathy. The hec rer ficed by Napoleon dreams of empire feature of his hand The fate line, which wrist toward the middle the h makes case, by rrow of vom mark to itious ive to this from the rer, chow possession by learness wh its ¢ every faculty for suc during the period of its duratior point where it st that diy the for really that tions of mental n of the palin which Ang, it w in his for car, in 1813 indica- arvel- had made world. It was ia antagonized 1tholic the waning of those 1 ou powers which of the that he entire ( him that only ordering a captive Pope, enmity of father-in-law, by assuming an unyield, ing, hostile attitude tows m. in. stead of humoring hir e crafty master year the not upon the Fained the his watch vius VLI, but fmperor Fruucls an prime n tterpich was “the be twve Dattle-of . Waterloo, where he lost everything, vears late