File:Erica (Thorp) de Berry to Thorp family, 13 April 1918 (97cdf670-0657-46fa-90c2-3e20678de2f3).jpg

Manuscript letter

Archives Number: 1006/004.006.002-006#017

[The Letterhead:]
Etablissement Thermal & Hydrothérapique [Thermal & Hydrotherapy Establishment]
de Lacaune-les-Bains [Tarn] [Lacaune-the-Baths] et [and] Grand Hotel des Bains [Grand Hotel of Baths]
Station de Montagne [Mountain Station]
Altitude 850 m.
Station d’Enfants [Station of Children]
Saison de 15 Juin au 1er Octobre [Season from June 15 to October 1]
Site Splendide [Splendid Site]
——— Eaux Minérales Tièdes [Tepid Mineral Water]
Guérison de la Gravelle, de l’Arthritisme [Healing of Gravelle, Arthritis] et des Maladies de la Peau [and Skin Diseases]
———
Sources Froides 8 [degrees] [Cold Sources]
Hydrothérapie Perfectionnée [Advanced Hydrotherapy]
Guérison de la Neurasthènie [Healing of Neurasthenia]
Adresse Télégraphique: [Telegraph Address]
Établissement Lacaune
Téléphone No 2
Lacaune le, [__________] 191[_]
April 13, 1918
Dearest Family,
I must make a start on a letter tonight, for things ^to tell^ are accumulating so mountainously every day that I’ll soon be as completely snowed under as we actually were here day before yesterday]. ——- Begin I told you, I think, that the Friday before Easter M Jaccaci and the Executive Committee decided that it would be more prudent to evacuate Presles, as well as our Paris dêpots, rather than subject the children any longer to the strain and danger of air-raids &long-range bombardment.
So we packed up overnight as it were, and were all ready to leave on ^the next^ Monday evening. x Incidentally, that Sunday I had perhaps the most vivid glimpse of war preparations that I’ll have. The trains ^in the vicinity of Presles^ were so held up, [crossed out: ^in the vicinity of Presles] all day^ due to the transportation of troops to the front, that Mrs Strough[?] had to walk to Beaumont, about 3 miles
[written down the left side of this first page:]
x [It was quite heart breaking to ^have to^ dismember my little “living-room” at Presles, & pack up all our precious things to be left behind. I took as many as I could carry, but alas! that didn’t go far —] (page 2) distant to make connections with a late P.M. train on another line; and every inch of that 3 miles was covered by an endless train of gray camions bearing munitions, troops, [lolling on straw or jovially picking the banjo,] field kitchens, camouflage material, , [crossed out: can] ^and^ trench equipment of every sort and description. It was a most amazing sight, so endless the chain & so perfect the organization of everything! At Beaumont, which marks one point in the limit of the German advance of 1914, the bridges blown up at the time have not been rebuilt, so the line of camions , [crossed out: were] ^was^ forced to crawl, one at a time, over the fragile temporary wooden bridge. Here , [crossed out: also[or alas] ]we met cavalry, ^also^ and at the station, a mob of the curious were drawn up to watch a Red Cross train of wounded unload. It was the first one I’d seen in action — the long rows of silent stretchers interspersed with blessés assis, swathed in enormous bandages, only a few hours from that seething cauldron on the same, smooth-flowing [??].
Then troop trains began to pass, filled to the brim with cheery hairy faces peering from crammed baggage-cars where straw and a few stray benches were the only means of “repose”. But they all were smiling — smiling — scarcely a serious (page 3) [on letterhead] expression among them, as if off for a pleasure jaunt. And in the background of all this, stolid German prisoners silently wheeled trucks back &forth thro’ the freight-yards. ^It was a strange^ Easter spectacle! — That night &the next A.M. early I packed up all my belongings, except a suit-caseful of necessities — of course the stores ^&banks were closed for Easter Monday holiday, as they always seem to be in these moments of exodus ^so that I could do no last jobs] ^ and dashed to the station to meet my family, whom Lucinda, like an angel, piloted up from Presles for me so that I could finish things in Paris. ^At the Gare du Nord,^ We had Red Cross camions ready to meet them, and the kind ladies of the , [crossed out: Gare du Nord] cantine [sic:canteen] insisted on their resting awhile before embarking for the Gare d’Austerlitz, thinking — as did everyone along the line — that we were from Noyon[?], at least! (page 4) We certainly looked it. Each boy staggered under a weight of “trousseau” tied up in the corded paper that is used for everything in France, bursting open in a dozen places to eject shoes, handkerchiefs, tooth-brushes, chemises, with precious personal treasures such as books, broken toys, ^and^ resurrected boxes & scraps of colored paper from the heap of discards I’d left to be burnt from the relics of , [crossed out: my] ^our^ little room at Presles, carefully tied on at every bulging angle , [crossed out: and corner]. Would that you could have seen us! Even the agents de la gare, used as they are to such spectacles, gave us a special word of friendly greeting, and les Boches dropped a shell a block or two away to announce our triumphant entry —
It was such fun to be borne across Paris in state in a huge Y.M.C.A. car, and more thrilling still to be received at the Gare d’Austerlitz canteen along with other real refugees and seated at a table loaded with American Red Cross food! I talked with refugees from Noyon[?] and other towns of the present front — poor, dazed creatures thrust out for the second time, just as their little homes were beginning to take root. They had had about 2 hours (page 5) [on letterhead] notice, and had had to leave everything again, even “the clothes hanging on the line.” And one old lady, weary with walking, had dragged along behind a cart on a strap for miles —— In spite of all the war realness of these last weeks, it was still impossible to believe that we were talking with the people who’d been all thro’ this — and for the 2nd time! — — And think of little Hortense running a refuge for several hundred of them, as she has been doing day after day with two others
We got off at 7.35 that evening, after another canteen meal served by French ladies this time — so [??] kind and sollicitous[sic], turning out omelettes by the dozen for us between the regular poilu[?]-meals. I don’t yet know how we got into our “special car” — [a ratty old 3rd class] — between sacks and bundles and children (page 6) hurtled about in a seething station crowd — but somehow we did. Then began the real journey.
Imagine 70 of us packed in more or less like sardines, first sitting properly up on the seats, then gradually descending to , [crossed out: every] the floor and the corridors, curled up on sacks, under benches, on each other — any old way to keep warm and give dragging heads a chance to flop. Night-on-a-mountain attitudes weren’t in it! — And in spite of the weariness and crampedness and dirtiness there was scarcely a tear and no whining! It was really remarkable. , [crossed out: In fact] ^On the contrary,^ everyone was cheery and sociable, , [crossed out: up] till about , [crossed out: 2 A.M.] ^midnight^, at any rate. After that, the joviality died down somewhat, and almost everyone got respectable snoozes, the little ones sleeping soundly in our laps. I felt like the Last of the Refugees, with my muffler tied round my head for warmth and a pillow, a babe in my lap and two leaning against my knees — It was a rare, rare experience, and I wouldn’t have missed it for anything — Never shall I forget the children’s and the Sisters’ good spirits and (page 7) [on letterhead] philosophical resignation — the very same that had carried them smilingly thro’ the air-raids and all the upheaval of their sudden exodus. I can’t get over it — the , [crossed out: French] way ^the French have^ of rising to the occasion , [crossed out: wh] and never failing the supreme test, no matter how much they may fuss over the [curious?] details of overall[or small?] , [crossed out: occasions] ^affairs.^
About 7 A.M. we came to somewhat for bread and sausages — [no chances to wash, of course!] — and at 8.30 reached Montlaubon[?], our first change. I had been dreading that, for we had no car reserved from then on ^[as we’d left in too great a hurry for all such lengthy arrangements]^ and I didn’t see how it would be possible to stow everybody & everything into the same car with possible other travellers[sic]. But again, the gare officials swept aside red tape for the occasion, reserved us a car, , [crossed out: and] helped us with our luggage, & gave us half-fare before we’d even asked. And the same thing (page 8) happened at Castres, our next &last change. All this time we’d been getting deeper & deeper into the “Midi”, with a land of Spanish mission church architecture, of immaculate “[??]” [roaming?] in green fields, of short blue smocks & broad-brimmed Spanish-looking felt hats; and on arriving at Castres we listened in bewilderment to an almost foreign tongue. It is so ugly, the French of the Midi, short-clipped, , [crossed out: and] harsh and unintelligible. Even the Sisters couldn’t understand it. But kind permissionaires and station-loungers saw our troubles at a glance, piled up our baggage for us, went on a search for water [with lemonade added at their own expense] and piloted us safely into the little mountain train for Lacaune.
That 4-hours ride up thro’ the gorges of the Cervennes was one of the most beautiful I’ve ever taken, and the children, tho’ half dead with weariness, shrieked with joy at the sight of waterfalls, trestle bridges, tunnels and real mountains, seen for the first time. We jogged along past one little lichen-covered hilltop town after another, (so reminiscent of Italian tours) (page 9) [on letterhead] till atlast[sic], as dark was falling [and the mercury also!] we arrived at Lacaune!
It is only a mountain-town, lichen-covered like the rest, but a little more self-important because of its former “établissement de bains” which we now inherit.
The whole , [crossed out: town] ^village^ had assembled to see us arrive, and tho’ these mountaineers are notoriously indifferent to the War and inclined to be very , [crossed out: miserly with all their products
^”dur” by nature^, the sight of our gray-faced little band moved more than one to tears.
Mlle de Rose sprang forward to meet us, packing the youngest into an ancient omnibus, while the rest of us stumbled along in the dark under sweet-smelling pine-trees on a quiet country road to the “establishment”. There hot soup & (page 10) white beds awaited us, and tho’ the electricity plant had broken two days before and petrol was ^is^ unattainable, we managed to find our way to warmth and , [crossed out: bed] ^sleep^ without any great difficulty. Thus ended our journey, — and since then every minute has been so crammed with planning and trying to get somehow settled in the midst of a chaos of half-torn down partitions, roaming mattresses, parts of beds, wash-basins, small tables, armchairs etc. etc. etc. with no possibility of our Red Cross supplies arriving till the [??] are free to transport , [crossed out: any] ^some^thing besides men & munitions, that my brain hasn’t yet cooled down from it all.
From the enclosed card you will get an idea of the general shape ^of the etablissement^. All the nearest wing is to be made into dormitories — 2 large and 4 small. It might have been ready in 2 months, if we could have waited, but at present is just one wild mess of torn down partitions, and nondescript furniture and dirt. Work had to be stopped in the middle because of lack of plaster, which is unobtainable ^in these parts^ these jours de guerre. So we had to cram all the children into small rooms in (page 11) [on letterhead] the other part, and being short of personnel [one of the Sisters having been too sick to come] have had to let the details of surveillance go to the winds for the time being.
What I should have done without Mlle. de Rose, I can’t even imagine. She has been everything and done everything — and has in addition a most charming and remarkable personality. She is a grand daughter of Racine, a sister of the Marquis de Rose who was at the head of all French aviation, ^before he was killed 2 yrs. ago^, an aunt of the young captain who has succeeded Guy…[?] in the famous Escadrille de Cieogues[?] or whatever they call it and a cousin of every important or well-known person in France, it seems! And with all that, she is the most democratic of the democratic, and has scarcely a sou to her name because she gives it all to (page 12) good works. I don’t know how many hundred orphans she has under her care in colonies all over France. Her great vision for the future is the establishment of ^self-supporting^ agricultural centres, a “Back-to-the land” movement which shall raise the prestige of agriculture, feed France, and give a means of livelihood to thousands of homeless refugees — and orphans. She is cooperating with our comité to try it out on this proprieté, she supplying the land and we the children. Her idea is eventually to raise all our food on the place, and in addition to carry on as many local trades as possible, so that we shall be a little community unto ourselves. So , [crossed out: big] ^all-inclusive^ is her , [crossed out: grasp] ^conception^ of things, that she not only , [crossed out: as a] ^burns with^ “feu sacré” for the vision as a whole, but has an extraordinary , [crossed out: grasp] grasp of the details as well, and the most unfailing sense of economy that I have ever known! She is a rare combination, and so wonderfully French!
Following her lead, I have plunged into the depths of house keeping for the establishment, and the mysteries of building and house-planning. I have been pretty nearly swamped in plumbing calculations, the price of (page 13) [on letterhead] pork and potatoes, , [crossed out: how] the , [crossed out: many] ^number of^ meters it takes to make 200 [?] mattresses, [for we’re preparing for 200 eventually] the proper way to address a letter to the Préfet asking for coal and petrol, etc. etc. etc. — but , [crossed out: stil]l ^just^ manage to keep one eye above water, tho’ only one! —
At Presles, I had nothing to do with the actual ordering and had never learned French measures and prices. Here everything is “affreusement cher”, & one gets horribly “down”, if one isn’t on the lookout every minute, all our comité supplies are held up en route, and one has to have a permit for about everything. We can’t get any petrol at all, & matches are almost non-existent. Plaster and zinc & lead simply aren’t to be had in this community, (page 14) and there’s one carpenter, a réprimé de la guerre, to do our work. I don’t even attempt to do all the bargaining that has to be done, [my French falling miserably behind the technical details & lightening calculations of the moment] but simply try to steer a course for the comité between the , [crossed out: outrageous] ^big needs^ , [crossed out: prices] ^of the moment^ , [crossed out: demanded here] and Mll de Rose’s ultra-economy. You can imagine what an exciting game it is — 50% pure speculation and taking chances. If I only had more of a broker’s[?] sense, — or were an architect, at least! I trot about in a black cambric apron, jangling ^the^ keys to all the cupboards, a can of disinfectant in one hand and a 100 lists in another. Thank goodness, that it is such an all-absorbing existence, tho’, for the remoteness from things at theise crucial moment would otherwise be unbearable.
There are 2 American ^comité^ nurses here, too, installed in one of the châlets which they’ve made into an infirmary and dispensary. [Would that Al were here to run it!] And having them makes all the difference, for we already have one quite sick child, sent later in a bunch (page 15) [on letterhead] of 20 others from Elancourt. As you will know by this time, all the Paris hospitals, orphelinats, refuges, etc. are being evacuated because of “la grosse Bertha”s day and night disturbance.
I only hope the American papers aren’t misrepresenting things and saying that Paris is in a panic. There is no panic, it’s only that , [crossed out: people]e for children, old people & the sick the strain of the continual bombardment, even tho’ the destruction is comparatively small, is too much. So a great, great many families have left & now the government is evacuating hospitals, etc. Our Paris dêpots were already evacuated, but now it may be that M Jaccaci will think it wise or be ordered to evacuate all colonies near Paris
[written up the left side of this page:]
Mamma’s sweet Easter card has just arrived — and is blessing us from the salon mantelpiece. I think of it as one of the little choir-boys of St. Gervais who went straight to Heaven in their prayers. M Jaccaci & Mrs Hill missed that shell by
[written up middle of the page:]
3 minutes, arriving at the church just after it had fallen on their way to the service —
(page 16) in which case we may expect many more children. Tomorrow a band of 35 arrive for Mlle de Rose, & every day children or refugees pour into Castres. It would seem almost too remote & the journey too long, but no! — They come just the same — they & German prisoners. [We have 2 working on the farm.]
And meanwhile all this backwater eddying is such a nothing beside all that is going on “up there”. [I nearly die when the paper comes, or when it doesn’t come, and have, of course, no means of knowing whether Willard & Douglas & Machado & all the rest, are in the thick of it. Yes, I’ve known for a long time that Willard was at the front, but where he may be now I know not. Douglas wrote me a month , [crossed out: or more] ago that he hoped to be there in a week, but no further word have I heard from him. And think of Rusty being over here! I don’t expect to see him ever, but it’s fine to know he’s here atleast[sic]. Oh, how unbearable it must be for all the boys who still have to wait round at home —
Goodnight, dearest People. May all the suspense be over when this reaches you, & the Germans pushed back, back, back forever —
[down the left side of this last page]
A heartful of love — from your Bun —

• Keywords: long archives; henry w. longfellow family papers (long 27930); erica (thorp) de berry; document; correspondence; henry wadsworth longfellow family papers (1006); lacaune; france; europe; places; subject; war; world war i; Erica Thorp deBerry Papers (1006/004.006); (LONG-SeriesName); Outgoing (1006/004.006.002); (LONG-SubseriesName); 1918 (1006/004.006.002-006); (LONG-FileUnitName)