TOMMY'S TITLED NURSES

Otago Daily Times, Issue 16519, 20 October 1915, Page 10

TOMMY'S TITLED NURSES

HOW THE WAR HAS CHANGED THE

FASHIONS.

Call at Buckingham Palace, and_ you're tr.'.d the Queen is " not at home " : heT Majesty is holding Court in mean streets down Tooting way, among the poor mothers and babies -of the war! Or, again, here's the stately town house oi a peeresg—Viscountess Ridley's, at 10 Carlton House terrace, facing the closelyshuttered German Embassy, on the opposite corner of the Duke of York's Steps. A truly splendid home, this of Lady Ridley's, with bathrooms in alabaster and bronze and a wonderful stairway of jetblack marble—the ideal setting for lovely women in shimmering gowns and gems, uniforms and jewelled orders, trailing smilax and rambler rose, with soft music over all and the hum of courtly talk.

Hnt this was the old order. This was last season, and surely in another world! Lady Ridley's house is now a convalescent home for officers—a place of pathos md patience and gaiety that tugs at the heart. Farther west is Grosvenor House, perhaps the grandest private mansion in Europe. It is a hospital now. Crutches thump on parquet floors, so often the scene of Royal balls and State quadrilles. Many of'the maimed inmates have danced in this place and paid homage to the Duchess. Where is her Grace of Westminster now, by the way? Oy<?r in France with a committee, managing a hospital of her own at Le Touquet—a hospital that bears wondrous witness to the wand of war and the social miracles it has wrought. It's installed in the Casino, once the scene of gambling, frivolity, and flirtation. The Duchess lias a big ward in the,baccarat-room. Her dispensary Is the American bar, and sne keeps her linen in a bid saloon panelled with tell-tale, pictures of the tango. For outrageous steps were taught here last year—only last year! — New Democracy of Women. —■

To-day's fine ladies are more democratic than the sailors', wives with whom they " club" and knit, and hold new sympathetic communion as Mrs Winston Churchill does, or Lady Jellicoe or Lady Strathcona, who plays tne waitress in a Church Army coffee-bar, passing out steaming cups 'and pieces of cake to soldierlads. And the scene of her ladyship's ministry is Grosvenbr square! Gone is the old round of pleasure—of living solely for dress, dinner, and the dance; the restless butterfly flitting from Nice to Ascot, from Lord's to the opeTa, from Cowes to the moors, and thence to Cairo or Carlsbad for rest and "cure," and the regaining of frittered strength to begin all over again. Why, the game is only a memory and gaiety only a name! The earl's daughter is now a first-aider in Flanders, booted and spurred, obedient and meek,: ready to learn and serve—say to drive an ambulance, to scrub the hospital floor or run a buffet for wounded soldiers on a wayside station. Lady Guernsey has .a hospital at Fecamp; Millicent, Duchess of Sutherland, and Lady Decies at Dunkirk; Lady Dudley and Lady Norman at Wimereux; and at Boulogne are Lady Juliet Duff ajid Lady Sarah Wilson, both of them widows of the war, and both engaged in this same merciful work.

• Nor has the call left the American milionairess unmoved; She found nobler work than silly Newport yieing, with reporters agape at the cotillion presents, and stocks and bonds hid in the serviettes. At the American hospital in Paris Mrs Vanderbilt turns up her sleeves and plays scullerymaid with a new sense of beauty in drab and humdrum tasks. Mrs Harry P. "Whitney left her palace on Long Island and hurried over to France with seven doctors, 15 nurses, and 10 motors, besides clothing and stores for 3000 men. My lady's yacht is now a hospital ship, as Lady Brassey's is, or else it embarks refugees as Miss Borthwick's did, and'runs them over to English sanctuary with the level-headed yachts-woman herself at the wheel. The country house is _ a convalescent home, and sick soldiers look vaguely from their beds along shining saloons full of precious china and bronzes, splendid tapestry, and pictures famed throughout the world's art centres. So the new democracy of women is one. of the wonderful facts of the war. Each fine lady has her pet fund or special sphere' of service which brings her into closer touch with a larger world than she ever knew before. Sir John French's wife is never weary of well-doing. . The Countess of Bective is chairwoman of the Field Force Fund for providing comforts: i,ady Ebxburgh is secretary to the Queen's Work for Women, and Cells endless stories of devotion. Thus the fiancee, whose ■lover was killed in action, sent along her engagement ring that the little, jewel might do its share, as he would have wished. Even the destitute, failing all .else, cut, off her own.hair and sent it to Lady Roxburgh's house in Portland place.

— A Royal Lead.—

Young girls of the nobility have folr lowed Princess Mary's lead, and now devote themselves to practical good work. The horse they rode in the hunt has gone to the war; so has their mother's car, now converted into ah ambulance for three cot cases and three more sitting up. Quite liiely, indeed, mother has gone herself as a lady chauffeur, snatching sorelywounded men from the regimental firstaid posts and whirling them to hospital base or -ship over unimaginable shell-riven roads.

At home or abroad father is helping in some capacity. And a younger sister becomes a nurse, with keen sense of vocation and hifjh serious aim to climb the ladder of efficiency and skill by degrees of drudgery undreamed, of in the yesteryear of pleasantness and peace. Thus Lord Desborough's daughter became a London hospital probationer. Lord Methuen's eldest girl went to King's College, and the Lady Diana Manners trained at Guy's with a view to hospital service abroad. Earl Grey's place,' Howick Hall, was made into a convalescent home, with his daughter, the Lady Sibyl, as. matron, and her sister-in-law, the Viscountess,, as commandant of a large nursing staff. Then, again, at Highclere Castle, the Countess of Carnarvon sits reading by the bedside of a wounded soldier. That stately home —in which the Kaiser himself once sought rest from the cares of State—is to-day an elaborate private hospital, with resident surgeons and nurses and great London specialists at call. Mercy of this kind is a costly matter. And to make it complete, the hostess gives herself to it, entirely altering her ha-bit of life and giving attention instead of receiving it. Such is the new era in a society that sheds luxuries and assumes new responsibilities with real zest, wondering how the old order could ever have allured. The dog show and small talk at tea; the art and political crowds; the wayward travel and jewels and dress—above all, at Ascot, that prgie of summer colour, gorgeous gowns, rare meats and wines in the Guards' tent amid soft music and flowers. To-day Ascot is very subdued. The classic course actually saw- crutch races on the lawns —the ''Royal Heroes' Handicap," with packets of cigarettes foi stakes and anxious nurses representing tho festive Ascot throngs! To all this change the great lady is well attuned, and moulds her service accordingly. Thu3 Lady Garvagh collects and forwards game for the wounded; Lady Emmott and.Lady Eileen Wellesley have charge of a depot for clothing the refugees; the Countess of Shaftesbury cares for the war babies and their lonely mothers; the Grand Duke Michael's daughters spend their days packing parcels of gloves and mitts for' the troops—this fund alone will take £25,000! The Duchess of Hamilton fosters handspinning and weaving at her Wiltshire seat for the benefit of soldiers' wives; the Marchioness of Lansdowne has charge of the Officers' Families Fund, and Lady Ancaster gives all her energy to the welfare of the Lincoln Regiment at the front. Great dames have long been specialising in this way, narrowing their efforts into one well-considered and appreciated scheme. Georgina, Countess of Dudley, busies herself with change of air and scene for sick and wounded officers. Lady French collects mufflers. Princess Louis of Battenberg promotes the comfort of the mine-sweepers, those brave fisherfolk whom the Admiralty employ to trawl for floating and anchored mines, one touch of which would blow a big ship out of the water.

— New-found Joy.—

In all this and kindred work the new fine lady finds a joy she never had before. There are no shows of the old kind, because sport is dead. No county cricket at Lord's, no tennis at Wimbledon, no Bisley meeting—the first break for more than half a century, as Lord Cheylesmore reminds us. Marksmen of the Empire have a sterner task before them, and all the playing fields are forsaken for the camps. Pololand, too, is in the grip of war. Ranelagh and Roehampton swarm with the Middlesex Hussars (under Lord Denman),' and recruits of all social grades are quartered in pavilions of classic play. Hunting still goes on, but only in a small way, for the farmers' sake, and often with lady masters. Lady Lowther acts as M.F.H. for the famous Pytchley, since her husband has a graver post in the cavalry at the front. Golf is dead, and the only innovation as a pastime for ladies is rifle-shooting. There are ranges in the church crypt; and in Piccadilly members of the Ladies' Rifle Club score eight bulls out of 10. The moving spirit in this was appointed rifle instructor to the Women's Signalling Territorial Corps, of. which Lord Kitchener's sister is com-mander-in-chief.

Naturally, with all these war interests, the ladies' .social clubs are languishing., and some of them- are in real financial straits through the withdrawal of members and the cutting off of all expense save that which is absolutely necessary. My lady's sole remaining carriage calls at the hospital every afternoon and takes, a party of convalescent soldiers x'or a drive in park or streets with the hostess herself in attendance as cicerone. Be it noted here that these women give more than their wealth and their homes for Britain's weal; they give themselves—their own time and strength,— counting all well lost if .the nation's sain accrue, or that of the nation's defenders. It is not too much to say that every' great house in Britain has now a precious hostage in the world-war, whether bv land or sea; so the ladies feel easier if they can serve, having no zest whatever' for joys that once filled their whole life. And servinp seems to keep them in good health, as the fashionable physicians of Harley street testify with wonder and admiration. ' Cases of " nerves " are few and far between, yet yesterday's patients were devotees of so-called "pleastrre," whilst the abrentees of to-day bear the full strain and stress of anxiety about dear ones on the armoured deck, or in the endless fighting-line 3of France and Flanders.

My lady's new interests, then, have a solid practical value to the nation. Even her pet dog, no longer pampered with silly clothes and overfeeding, has a box on his collar and collects for the Red Cross or the latest fund 'his mistress has taken up. My lady's children, too, have caught the spirit of ministry. All the dolls are nurses, and- toy carts are motor ambulances slung with cots and carrying an orderly on the step behind! Even the great woman doctor- has a new sphere, new dignity and honour with official seals upon it. There are in the seat of war half a dozen hospitals entirely staffed and maintained by women; and now the War Office is for the first time handing, over a military hospital in London to women surgeons with the rank of surgeon-major for \Mrs Louisa GarrettAnderson, who has seen service in -Paris and Dunkirk. Such in her many phases is the new fine lady, who will never again be quite what she was this time last year. For the Great War, as the Archbishop of Canterbury says, "writes & new chapter in the life of every one of us. . . . When we recall it years hence," his Grace continues, "we shall find that .with all its strain, all its terribkness and its tragedy of sorrow, it has been fashioned by God into a chapter of good, and that our manhood and womanhood have' emerged robuster and worthier from the fiery test."—W. G. Fitz-Gehald.