John Bottle's Genealogy Site

This transcription attempts to retain the same text and paging as is in the book.

REMINISCENCES OF
A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

[ 2 Photographs: ]

Children of the Garrison School, Chatham, Empire Day,
Silver Jubilee Year. (Home service.)

ROME.
Temple of Saturn. Carvings . . .
Boar, ram, bull. (In the Forum.)
(Page 277) [ Page 227 - J.Bottle ]

REMINISCENCES OF

A QUEEN'S ARMY

SCHOOLMISTRESS

By
DOROTHY MABEL BOTTLE

LONDON
ARTHUR H. STOCKWELL LTD.
29 LUDGATE HILL, E.C.4

[ Apparently published 1936 - J.Bottle ]

Printed in Great Britain
at the BURLEIGH PRESS, Lewin's Mead, BRISTOL

PREFACE

AN Army Children's School is a school established at
home or overseas for the children of officers, warrant
officers, non-commissioned officers and men of His
Majesty's forces, for the purpose of affording the
opportunity of acquiring a sound and useful education.
It is conducted under the authority of the Secretary
of State for War.

At one time, schoolmistresses in the army were
preferentially the daughters of parents serving, or who
had served in the army, in Queen Alexandra's Imperial
Military Nursing Service, in the Military Nursing
Service in India, or as army schoolmistresses.

Nowadays, subject to War Office Authority, the
appointment is open to all teachers who have passed
out of Civil Training Colleges.

Schoolmistresses are liable to be transferred from
one school to another, either at home or abroad, as
the exigencies of the service may require.

The name, " Queen's Army Schoolmistress " was
conferred by Royal patronage in 1928.

[ Blank page ]

CONTENTS

PAGE
BEGINNINGS - - - - - - - - 9
IRELAND - - - - - - - - - 19
JAMAICA - - - - - - - - - 41
EGYPT - - - - - - - - - 75
ROYALTY - - - - - - - - - 109
OFFICERS - - - - - - - - 123
CHILDREN'S OUTINGS - - - - - 132
SYRIA - - - - - - - - - 149
A Surprising JOURNEY - - - - - 172
PALESTINE - - - - - - - - 180
CYPRUS - - - - - - - - - 203
A TOUR - - - - - - - - - 223
VOYAGES - - - - - - - - - 244
ARMISTICE DAYS - - - - - - - 261
HOME SERVICE - - - - - - - 267

[ Blank page ]

B E G I N N I N G S

THERE are surely many people who still remember the
excitement of receiving a blue paper in an official
blue envelope, the contents of which marked a crisis
in life. Most likely, too, they remember the place
where the welcome news revealed itself as the paper
unfolded.

Just over a quarter of a century ago, when vacancies
for Army Schoolmistresses were few, and limited to
eager competition, I was enjoying the summer beauty
of a cherry orchard in the heart of Kent, and reading
with no small delight:

MISS ....................
........................
.........................

I am directed to inform you that, at the recent
examination of Candidates for the appointment
mentioned in the margin, you qualified etc., etc.

Colonel,
A.A.G. Army Schools.

A month later, four of us joined the Army Training
Centre in Stanhope Lines, Aldershot, as "School-
mistresses on Probation."

In order to be confirmed in the appointment at the
end of the probationary period, a written examination

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

and an examination in teaching had to be passed, so,
for the next twelve months, we were busy preparing
and being prepared for our future duties.

Long hours devoted to studies and lectures were
happy ones, although we sometimes appeared sleepy
during the afternoons. We often were sleepy. Teach-
ing, itself, was not a great ordeal, because as pupil
teachers we had had the sole responsibility of a class
for the past two or three years. In those days pupil
teachers in the army had much scope for practice in
teaching, and they were considerably helped by the
unconscious discipline, punctuality and regular attend-
ance of the children. What did seem a great trial,
however, was having to pronounce judgement on the
methods and abilities of each other, and we were
always thankful when " Criticism Lessons " were over.

Here, looking back, and peeping into a room, is a
class, deeply absorbed in its tasks. Industrious
children are seen, children whose clever fingers are
pricking, folding or weaving. Glance at the Time
Table. The word " Kindergarten " describes their
occupation. To-day, Kindergarten is called Hand-
work; Arithmetic is modestly hidden under the term
Mathematics; not a few subjects of the past are to
be found beneath the headings, Research, Science,
and English, and a Syllabus is known as a Scheme of
Work. Occasionally, for some reason or other, names
are altered. And the children? My remembrance of
former ones and the enlightenment and understanding
that have come to me through years of personal
contact simply reveal that children are always children.
But it is wise to remain young oneself.

Let us proceed to Shakespeare and the fate of Julius

BEGINNINGS

Caesar. "What are lean and hungry people?" asks
our Literature Mistress. Agreeing with her, we decide
we do not like them either, and, smilingly, she goes
on with the play.

Our Professor of Geography had travelled extensively
in India, and never tired of briefly surveying that part
of the Empire for our benefit. (All army people
eventually acquire the habit of discoursing about the
Places in which they have lived for a few years, "When
I was in Delhi, etc., etc.") Since then, however, many
who listened to him have been to stations even more
remote than the ones he knew.

Another Professor of the same subject was much
interested in the various movements of heavenly
bodies and the waters beneath. For her, we drew
countless diagrams of moons in every position. Some-
times, for a change, we puzzled over the Causes which
determine Climate. Are they a puzzle any longer?
They are not; for in our travels we have met with
earthquakes, hurricanes, monsoons, typhoons, tropical
suns, damp heat and sandstorms; we have journeyed
to places north and south of the Equator, east and west
of Greenwich, and above and below sea level. Strangely
enough, the climate of our own land still remains a
mystery.

The events that have helped to make History through
the Ages were duly presented by a vivacious lecturer.
Towards the end of the course her enthusiasm centred
around the Governments and Cabinet Ministers.
The duties connected with each office of state were
carefully explained. In particular, the office of
Chancellor of the Exchequer was emphasized: whether
because it was held by the Right Hon. H. H. Asquith

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

that year (the late Lord Oxford and Asquith), or because
of its effect upon Income Tax, we never found out.

Not far from the hall door was a tuck shop where
freshly-made doughnuts were on sale every morning.
Delicious doughnuts they were and very popular
during the interval. Even verses were written about
them.

Usually there were two classes on probation at the
same time, Seniors and Juniors. When the Seniors
left the Training Centre, some of them remained in
Aldershot for a further course of instruction at an
Elder Girls' School. In rotation, Juniors became
Seniors, and newcomers occupied the desks which
the Juniors vacated. By uniting together, it was
possible to form a Choral Group among the different
probationers. Everyone was a vocalist because
music and individual song-singing had been compulsory
items at the examination each year while we were
pupil teachers.

Under the direction of a very capable man, the mem-
bers of the Choral Group enjoyed a genial pastime.
Dressed in a neat blue uniform, with shoulder knots
of gold, his brisk arrival and good-humoured greeting
cheered everybody, "Shall we try 'Up, Quit thy
Bower'? Miss ----, will you take the solo?
Will you play for us this morning, Miss ----?"

As the probationer accompanied the singing, little
did she dream that her younger sister would later on
forsake teaching and become an eminent public
singer.

Always at Christmastide, when a school concert
was arranged, our band of singers contributed part-
songs and a cantata. The year we did " The Gipsies'

BEGINNINGS

Holiday" one of the performers wrote in my auto-
graph album:
"As a lighthearted gipsy
I danced with thee one e'en.
Oh ! How each one did laugh and trip
And bang her tambourine.
We managed to get through the dance,
And yet gained an encore;
The tableau at the end was grand
And made folk wish for more (?)
That merry night we'll all remember
Wherever we may be,
That happy night in dull December
In the theatre A.S.C."

In connection with school the recreation of sport
extended at first to Physical Training only, Swim-
ming was added later on. The Military Gymnasium,
an immense building, was not far away, and in the
fencing-room we were ardently drilled by a special
Instructress. Notwithstanding the severity of our
efforts, we were generally loth to discontinue the fun
of jumping, swinging, and climbing ropes.

Thinking over those bygone days, we seem to have
had no leisure. All our spare time was employed
either in study or in the preparation of notes relative
to the lessons we were to give during the week. For
one thing, there were none of the present-day amuse-
ments (distractions !) which have crowded into people's
lives to take our minds from our work; and for another,
when King Edward VII reigned, the years were peace-
ful. Those who are able to recall the sorrows of the
South African War, as well as the long national and
personal worries of recent years, can fully understand
and perhaps marvel at Edwardian tranquillity.

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

" How fearfully dull ! " thinks the student of to-day.
Maybe the student of nineteen hundred and sixty
will reflect similarly about these modern times. It's
the way of the world. Positively . . . we never were
dull. And what a red-letter day was looked forward
to at the end of the term. Each class would give an
exclusive tea party, attended only by its own members.
Great secrecy was preserved as to the place and hour
of the tryst. And if anyone of another class acciden-
tally happened into the chosen shop, she made a hasty
exit as a point of honour.

Attendance at Divine Service was required by Army
School Regulations, Schoolmistresses had to accom-
pany children of their own religious persuasion to the
morning parade service at church or other place of
worship. If there were no children of their own
religious persuasion they had to attend Divine Service
with the troops. However, no one was expected to
attend any form of Divine worship to which conscien-
tious objections were entertained. St. George's
Stanhope Lines, was the `duty' church for pro-
bationers, and we were required to attend once a month
in turn.

Liable to the same regulation were Probationary
Army Schoolmasters, erstwhile Duke of York and
Hibernian Students. Walking along the Queen's
Avenue on Sunday morning they might be seen in
their distinctively neat uniform, well-groomed and
smart.

It was in Wellington Avenue, however, where
Church Parades were a 'sight to see.' The approach
to All Saints' Military Church and the entire length
of the Avenue presented a mass of greenery. Towering

BEGINNINGS

trees gave pleasant shade to the crowds beneath.
Presently, the Lancers, headed by their band, proudly
swung to a popular march. In their vivid scarlet
coats, with blue fronts and yellow lines, white gaunt-
lets, and glittering lance-caps with well-crimped,
black waving plumes, they were a picturesque flash
of colour. As we watched first one regiment and then
another, a great pride swelled within our breasts.
Were not we too of the army, daughters of the
army?

Time passed. Our training, our studying, and our
examinations were over. That is to say, the beginning
was over. Training in the fullest sense ceases only
when experiences come to an end: a conscientious
teacher realises the value of continued study, and for
those who are so minded, examinations are ever
available in one form or another.

Knowing we were soon to part company, autograph
albums which had appeared but intermittently, now
swiftly circuited from one to another. Turning the
pages of my album recently, what is remarkable after
many years is the aptness of each person's contribution.
Poems about hope, the absence of shadows, peace,
flowers, happiness, glory, leisure, vanity, caution,
sincerity and the bearing of troubles, bring to mind
the different faces of the writers and their character-
istics.

As they wrote then, they would write now,
so little have they altered. All who wrote of love are
married, and one who penned "For ever and for ever
farewell" was lost sight of immediately. It might
be mentioned here, that there are about three hundred
and fifty schoolmistresses in the army. By chance,

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

some meet constantly, first in one station and then in
another. Others never meet at all.

In a second album there are drawings and sketches,
for several of my fellow students were gifted artists.
A painting of robins among holly and snow recalls
one who sailed to India . . . but alas ! not back
again. The music and words of a song composed
by our Music Master bring to memory his kindness in
writing a special song for each class, as its members
were due to commence their wanderings.

If throughout our intensive training we had worked
hard, there was one who had worked even harder . . .
our Headmistress. With her, first things came first.
In our case, having chosen the teaching profession,
we were exhorted by precept and example to live up
to the highest ideals. Many were the talks she gave
us about the care of children, physically, and mentally,
as well as educationally. A teacher had greater
responsibilities in those days, as there were no Medical
Examinations for children, no Welfare Centres and
no Visiting Sisters. Two years later, in Accession
Year, this same Headmistress had the honour of
receiving Their Majesties King George the Fifth and
Queen Mary, when they visited the Model School
and Training Centre in Aldershot.

Great animation prevailed one morning just before
the end when " Orders " arrived. Cries, such as,
"I'm for Pembroke Dock. Where are you going?"
were heard the length and breadth of the corridor.
Until the orders actually came, no one knew where
she would be posted. However, everyone had to be
ready to go at once---anywhere. Two of our small
class (the one who later died in India, and myself)

BEGINNINGS

were granted permission to take the further course of
training, so instead of leaving Aldershot we were sent
to the Elder Girls' School in Barrosa Barracks.

Once more commenced a rota of study and teaching.
Lessons on all subjects in the curriculum were continu-
ally given in front of critical army inspectors, men who
looked for talent in teaching apart from brilliant
studentship.

At last the course was completed. There was a
final written and a final teaching examination, and
then . . . whither ?

In a week's time the Easter vacation was due, when
suddenly, on the Friday, I was posted to a school
in Dublin, to report for duty on the Monday morning
following.
"Ah ! We four now needs must wander
Far away from shore to shore."
So ran the words of our song, and most applicably,
too.

Before closing this chapter it is noteworthy of recall
that certain other beginnings---beginnings of aerial
navigation----were gradually staggering people's belief.

Military balloons were observed with calm pride,
and the phenomenal British Army Airship, "Nulli
Secundus," bewildering as it was to the common
imagination, showed the possibilities lying ahead.

On Laffan's Plain, not a great way from our Training
Centre, Col. S. F. Cody, a British subject although an
American by birth, was for several years experimenting
with aeroplanes until he lost his life in a crash.

The incipient perils connected with flying had the
effect somewhat of lessening in people's minds the

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

dangers of motoring, which form of locomotion in
comparison seemed unwontedly safe. There were not
a great many motor-cars and motor vehicles about in
those days, yet since their beginning they were
steadily evolving in shape, size and usefulness. In the
early nineties there had been, so my father said, a
curious exhibition in the grounds of the Imperial
Institute, when the "carriages without horses"
demonstrated their powers of producing motion some
time before they were given permission to go on the
road. In these days, one of the Sporting Events
of the year is the annual run to Brighton of veteran
cars, and whoever is interested may see our indebted-
ness to the pioneers of long ago.

Having said good-bye to friends, I left the pleasant
corner house which had been my transitory home, and
rumbled to the station in a four-wheeled cab. More
friends waved adieu, and beginnings belonged to
memory.

Aldershot in after years proudly received a Charter
which gave her the status of a Borough. And from
year to year, in an album, I have cherished a page on
which is written;

" Wishing Miss .... every happiness and
success in her career in the Army and throughout
her whole life.
......., Major,
Senior Inspector Army Schools,
Aldershot Command,

Aldershot. 18th March, 1909."

I R E L A N D

EUSTON, London. March, 1909. A dimly-lit deser-
ted platform. One Saturday night a week before
Easter, having hired a blanket and a pillow from an
attendant, I settled myself in a carriage and the
Irish Mail steamed out of the station. When the train
stopped at Crewe, sleepy-looking passengers hurried
along to a gloomy sort of night bar, returning with
cups of coffee or tea, most of which was splashing about
in the saucer. We reached Holyhead in the early
hours of the morning. Shivering with cold and deaf-
ened with noises innumerable which mingled with the
dank ozone, we transferred to the boat and were soon
down below. After a safe but most unpleasant journey,
all except one being very sea-sick, lights were seen
through the porthole.

As we approached the quay my own spirits revived
and I noticed more intently the one who had escaped
the general indisposition. She seemed to be alone
and very cheerful. It so happened that, at the moment,
I had no idea as to where I should go when I arrived
in Dublin. On the receipt of "marching orders"
I had wired to an address requesting rooms, and had
received a reply wire saying all was well. Immediately
before leaving home a second wire was delivered
cancelling the first, and I was obliged to trust to
Providence.

Crossing the now steady floor to where the cheerful

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

girl was sitting, I spoke to her. Over a cup of tea
we exchanged confidences, and that haphazard meeting
was the beginning of a permanent friendship. Together,
soon afterwards, we entered a large shed at North Wall
and were cordially welcomed by a smiling porter,
"It's a fine soft morning," said he, looking out at the
rain. " Where might you be going ? " My newly-
found friend told him the name of a girls' hostel
in Harcourt Street, whereupon he hailed the driver
of a dilapidated cab to take us to the city. The
hostel, which was a fine old house adjoining a picture
gallery, proved, luckily, to be conveniently situated
for our work.

Whenever a schoolmistress was posted to a new
station her arrival had to be notified at once to the
O.C. Schools. After breakfast, therefore, we walked
to Portobello Barracks and I reported for duty.
The rest of the day was free, being a Sunday. My
friend was an artist, and we soon discovered the where-
abouts of her studio in Sackville Street.

The girls living in the hostel, nearly a score of them,
belonged to different parts of Ireland, and were engaged
in all kinds of work. Some were teachers, some were
young students at the School of Art, and many were
in business. Irish girls are noted for their beauty,
and a jollier, prettier group could not be met with
anywhere. No make-up was used either ! They were
so friendly that we were glad to live there, too, and
three years afterwards, when I was ordered to another
station, their companionship was my greatest loss.

With the exception of the Grand Canal which I
passed every morning on the way to school, I saw
nothing of Dublin for a while. After the first three days

IRELAND

I returned to England for the Easter vacation and also,
for the wedding of an army schoolmaster. In subse-
quent years, intermarriages often took place between
ex-probationers, after, according to Regulations, the
O.C. Schools had given permission. The men were
restricted by an age or a service limit which did not
affect the women teachers. The latter, however,
if they wished to marry anyone other than a civilian
or an army schoolmaster, were not allowed to
retain their post if the man were below a certain
rank.

In Home Stations, Army Schools follow a daily
routine corresponding more or less to the routine in a
Civil School of the same type. When the afternoon
session is ended, scholars and teachers are free, except
for a minimum amount of homework by the children
(not exceeding half an hour) and the usual after-
school marking, study and preparation by the teachers.
In Tropical Stations, subject to the exigencies of the
climate, school hours may be modified at the discretion
of the G.O.C. By Regulations, days and times are
prescribed for holidays, which include the Christmas,
Easter, Whitsun, and Summer periods, and additionally
days and anniversaries peculiar to the army generally
or to regiments individually.

Teachers in the army are singularly fortunate as
regards holiday travel. Not only have they the
chance to visit numerous places far out of the range
of thousands of other people, but they have, in many
instances, the privilege of only paying the outward
fare, which covers the return journey.

A very congenial station was the Dublin of those
days, offering as it did the choice of town, sea, or

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

country diversion when one's hours were free; more-
over outlying districts were easily accessible, as there
was a frequent electric tram service in operation.
Dublin was ahead of London in that respect. (A
"novelty" displayed in the Strand recently, amused
similarly the passers-by in Grafton Street more than
two decades ago !)

The Royal Hospital, Kilmainham, an institution
for old soldiers, similar to the Royal Hospital for
pensioners at Chelsea, claimed my first visit, because
its name had often been spoken by my parents, who
had lived in Ireland. I wanted to see the Hospital
Chapel and the small vessel used at my christening.
At the close of the Parade Service one Sunday morning
the verger unlocked a cupboard and carefully lifted
down a china bowl not many inches in diameter. It
was very old and was rarely used. It had evidently
been presented to the Chapel owing to the absence
of a font. No one knew its origin, and I had to be
content with looking at, what was to me, the symbol
of my first religious ceremony.

How magnificent was the Phoenix Park ! And how
charmingly situated the Zoological Gardens which we
found near one of the entrances. Walking in the
Zoo became a favourite Saturday afternoon pastime,
especially during the summer, when we could have
tea in the open. There was always a soothing atmos-
phere in the garden zoo, as if nature, the animals and
mankind were altogether in harmony.

Saturday mornings were invariably spent in the
city. The renowned wide streets containing many
notable buildings and a wealth of statues to dis-
tinguished patriots, were clean and well kept, and,

IRELAND

incidentally, a tribute to the health campaign of the
Aberdeen Ministry; but feminine interest was allured
by the shops. Who could pass Switzer's window with-
out an aesthetic thrill ? And in the bewitching showroom
of the Irish Industries, perfected by the elegance of the
exquisite saxe-blue velvet robes trailed by the lovely
assistants, what beautiful laces and fabrics were
displayed ! Less expensive establishments were equally
attractive, and within a compact radius, well equipped
with things requisite and manifold, all kinds of shops
might be found.

Bewleys was the accepted rendezvous for morning
coffee. The friend who took us there was confidingly
enthusiastic about the place and its noted beverage,
and was all agog for our verdict. Unanimously we
endorsed her opinion and at once added ourselves
to the list of patrons. Extant since those days are
two things which remain unique in my memory---
Bewley's incomparable coffee and the pleasure of
riding on an outside car.

Schoolmistresses who were quartered in such out
of the way places as Naas and the Curragh, had the
sympathy of those on the staffs of the Dublin schools.
A week-end in the vicinity of ruins, a moat, and a
market-square might be fancied occasionally, and the
camp surrounding the Curragh Water Tower was
unmistakably worth going to see ; but sojourning for
any length of time in either place demanded both
strength of mind and endurance. Perhaps some
of the teachers liked being there ? At any rate they
worked hard, contrived their own amusements, and
were never known to miss the boat for home in July
and December. As we were all likely to get dull

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

stations at one time or another, we made the most of
good stations when we had them.

Once, during a History lesson, I exhibited a picture
of Stephenson's " Rocket." A small boy was par-
ticularly interested and exclaimed, " I saw it in
Guinness's Brewery last week." Investigations were
necessary. As soon as arrangements could be made,
the Brewery was visited. Guinness's Wharf was on
the Liffey not far beyond 0'Connell's Bridge. It
was flanked by immense yards, and in barges laden
to the water's edge the famous Dublin stout could
easily be dispatched down the river. Cooperage
Yard contained thousands of barrels stacked in huge
neat piles. Engines, below the usual size, were
employed in the yards, which accounted for the
mystery of the Rocket.

The gentleman showing us over the Brewery led
the way to a circular platform. When we were all
there he said we were standing on a barrel of stout
holding enough liquor for every man in the British
army to be given two and a half pints. He also assured
us the platform was quite safe ! From our viewpoint
we could see ten other such barrels with thousands of
gallons in each.

Whilst going round the rooms, we sniffed the frame-
work of a fermenting vat at close range. Although
the attendant had cautioned us beforehand, the
strength of the gas was inconceivable, and we were
nearly overpowered by inhaling the acute odour from
the saturated wood.

A few weeks later came the opportunity of seeing
over Jacob's Biscuit Factory. Travelling ovens
aroused our curiosity as never before had we watched

IRELAND

the making of a biscuit from start to finish. In these
times, it is a common sight in many Exhibitions.

As the days lengthened, Dollymount with its long
seaward strand was the chosen spot for many an
evening ramble. It was very close to the city, and
whenever we felt inclined, we could run out by
street car, and enjoy its invigorating breeze almost
immediately. It took longer to reach Howth or
Kingstown and so we reserved whole or half days for
those places.

Howth, to the north of Dublin, possessed a ladies'
bathing beach and a delightful fishing pier, though we
usually preferred the summit. By chance, one May-
day, we saw children on the green dancing round a
maypole lit up with candles. A quaint village pump
completed the scene. Sometimes it could be gloriously
hot at the top of Howth Head ; and after lazing and
gazing to where sapphire sky and sea surrounded and
separated the emerald gems of Lambay and Ireland's
Eye, there was a quiet tea garden near the Bailey
Lighthouse where the most delightful butter and home-
made soda scones awaited discovery.

Life at the hostel throughout the year was con-
tinually varied by transient visitors, who, for the
length of time they remained, entered into kinship
with our jovial family. July especially, was pleasing
to me, because teachers from Irish civil schools-
schools remote from the capital-lived with us for
that month, while they were attending holiday courses
in Science and Art. We found much in common,
and when some of the teachers came two or three
years in succession, we were able to renew our interests
annually.

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

At the table one morning four of us arranged to go
for a drive to the Strawberry Beds. After lunch we
hailed a car at Stephen's Green and climbed on to
the side seats which were back to back. As one of
the party was a lady doctor from Karachi studying
at the Royal College of Surgeons, and another was an
Irish girl who could so alter the intonation of her
voice as to be mistaken for an American, the driver
must have decided in his mind that we were foreigners
to be shown the sights of the city. He commenced
by pointing out a memorial wreath we saw every day,
and special shops in Grafton and George's Streets;
he drove us to the Castle and then to the Four Courts,
where his eloquence about the Exchequer, the King's
Bench, Chancery and the Court of Common Pleas
gave the horse a long rest. It was impossible to check
his volubility or to get him to drive us where we wished
to go, so we resigned ourselves to his odd proceedings.

At last he set off along the Liffey in the right direc-
tion. Alas ! no sooner were we inside the Phoenix
Park than he drew up with deliberation at the entrance
to the Zoo ! Argument was useless. Responding
to his fervour we jumped down and hurried in. He
intimated that he would wait for us at another exit, and
a final glimpse revealed a trotting horse whose driver
was frantically waving his whip and motioning ahead.
As we dashed through the gardens our exuberance
was unbounded for we had no intention of remaining
in the Zoo ; but when, after a very short interval, we
saw the painful expression on the man's face, our
sympathy went out to him. A laughing explanation
ensued, whereupon his dejection vanished and he was
as talkative as ever the next moment. Continuing

IRELAND

our interrupted drive, we presently passed, away to
the right, the Viceregal Lodge, which was the Residence
of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland; and, next the
adjacent footpath, we espied the slabs of stone marking
the sadly memorable site of the 1882 tragedy.

From now onwards, through the Park, through the
Knockmaroon Gate, and thence downhill to the
Strawberry Beds, the drive was tranquilly pleasant.
Having lost so much time, however, we were unable
to linger, and could only hope to return some other
day. Except for one brief halt when the driver paused
in admiration of a remarkable field of potatoes, the
homeward road was swiftly covered, for we drove
at the breath-catching speed which characterises the
temperamental Irishman and his car.

When the summer holidays began, some of the
schoolmistresses whose homes were in the United
Kingdom journeyed to Rosslare by way of Wicklow
and Wexford, or, via Kilkenny and Waterford, in
order to see a little of Ireland's green, soft beauty.
The extra hours en route were always lessened by the
courteous guard of the train, because he established
himself as a guide, giving us liberal information on
every site and topic. From Rosslare to Fishguard
the channel was often calmer than the Irish Sea, and
the distance across the water slightly less.

In the story of the Phoenix---a monument was
erected to the fabulous bird in Phoenix Park---and in
the discernment of what the future might hold for
Ireland, was there not a certain parallel of wonder?
During those far off days, yet not so very far off
really, when the right of voting had not been accorded
to women, there was little use in taking more than a

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

passing interest in politics. But it was impossible
to live in Dublin, and to live in ignorance of the changes
looming ahead.

On the nineteenth of September, nineteen hundred
and nine, thousands of enthusiasts joined in a pro-
cession connected with the Irish Language Movement,
and by degrees the names of the streets appeared in a
new form. Statements at political meetings, views
plainly expressed by means of election posters, members
of the Irish Women's Franchise League abandoning
for the time their own projects and giving every assis-
tance to their menfolk, the division into rival parties
on board pleasure steamers entering the harbour-
one party singing "God save the King" and the
other party singing "A Nation once Again"---(we
experienced this one evening returning from the Isle
of Man) ; individual remarks at private and public
entertainments, the sentiments of acquaintances---
indeed of friends---all showed as time went on that a
climax was approaching.

Glowing sparks of emotion burst from my friends
now and again. Thoughtlessly, I once referred to a
certain man as a rebel. Never shall I forget the tirade
which followed, although my reprover was a staunch
advocate of English authority. The incident taught
me to avoid hurting the feelings of others by bearing
in mind that a person one country considers a rebel,
may be honoured as a patriot by the other side.

Living in the hostel was a Science Mistress, a keen
hockey player, of whom I thought very highly. A
few of us were talking about a debate on " Socialism"
to be held the following week, when I precipitately
asked what were her views. She said she was a Sinn

IRELAND

Feiner, and enlightened me by explaining " Sinn
Fein means Ourselves Alone," I understood.

There was a house which I constantly visited, the
inmates being, as were my own ancestors, Southerners.
The family lived in fearful anticipation of the day
when Home Rule would be declared, and were emig-
rating one by one. There were other people who
emigrated with the intention of returning when
Ireland became a free country.

Years have passed ; problems are being solved and
produced; the Irish Free State governs most of the
island; and in places where the British army con-
tinues to be stationed, army teachers are still required
for duty. But---to return.

Entertainment in Dublin was not hard to find,
especially if one were a lover of good music. Local
talent was of a very high standard ; vocal, instrumen-
tal, and orchestral concerts were frequently held,
and world famed artistes often appeared before the
public. That winter I joined the Amateur Operatic
Society and the evening rehearsals at the University
passed many pleasant hours. Performances of Norma
and Der Freischutz were ultimately given in the
Gaiety Theatre, which was engaged for the whole of
Easter week, and " The Tinker and the Fairy " (by Dr.
M. Esposito) was produced for the first time. (Dr.
Esposito, our musical director, was also the conductor
of the Dublin Orchestral Society. The elderly Signor
died not very long ago, and was, I believe, connected
with the Irish Academy of Music to the end.)

Oratorios were rendered periodically, usually the
well-known favourites. One season, however, when
I was a member of the Dublin Oratorio Society,

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

Elgar's Dream of Gerontius was produced for the first
time in Dublin. The stupendous undertaking was
due to the inexorable efforts of the Society's conductor
Mr. Vincent 0'Brien, and resulted in a great musical
triumph. The soloists on that memorable occasion
were Miss Phyllis Lett, Mr. Gervase Elwes (who died a
few years ago), and Mr. Wilfred Douthitt; and the
Chorus of Angelicals was specially augmented by city
choirs.

The Theatre Royal and the Gaiety Theatre were
open nearly the whole year round, so there was no
lack of amusement in that respect. Plays of every
description were presented, and, as a rule, only the
best Companies visited Dublin. In those days Musical
Comedy was at its height, with a wealth of popular
airs and celebrated "stars," and people went almost
crazy with enjoyment over one or the other. For
my part, I still prefer the tuneful melodies of past
years to the spasmodic rhythm and eccentric noises of
today.

In the Abbey Theatre, Irish Players enacted plays
in which they depicted conditions of Irish life. The
scenery and furniture were plain and unpretentious,
and the actors and actresses lived rather than acted
their roles. Whenever we beheld an Irish play, a
sad theme prevailed throughout.

Roller-skating was a popular winter sport. The
large rinks gay with decorations, bright lights and
military bands, were daily thronged with energetic
skaters, and on fancy dress gala nights when prizes were
awarded, the air resounded with the merriment of the
ornate competitors and their festive partisans. Learn-
ing to skate was quite simple if one had confidence and

IRELAND

balance. A beginner's track, ludicrously named "Mug's
Alley " extended along one side of the rink. Here, by
gliding cautiously, it was possible to overcome the
terrifying sensation which assailed the majority who
put skates on for the first time, because the handrail
could immediately be clutched if the floor became too
elusive. Professionals were in attendance in case their
services might be needed, and sometimes expert skaters
and dancers gave exhibition performances. I have had
no chance to skate for years, but there is no doubt
that such exercise is beneficial to the health after the
initial stage of bumps has been passed.

The cinema in those days was in its infancy. Al-
though people were familiar with the ordinary "still"
pictures thrown on to a sheet by lantern slides, the
new " moving " pictures aroused much comment and
wonder. They were not shown in separate halls at
first, but appeared as turns in the theatres, when their
flickering and noise irritated the senses. As machines
and films improved, Picture Palaces were built. Dublin
was up-to-date as usual, for near 0'Connell's Bridge
there was a picture house comfortably and prettily
upholstered. The best pictures of the day were
shown, an orchestra played appropriate selections,
and, to increase the goodwill of the audience, afternoon
tea was served free.

The seventeenth of March was given over to festivit-
ies for St. Patrick's Day was a national holiday. One
year, a small party of us took the electric tram to
Dalkey, and then went on to Killiney Hill, delightful
places both under normal conditions. Hundreds of
merry-makers flocked thither as well, and in spite of
our efforts to keep together or even follow each other

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

we had no alternative but to separate and get back
to Dublin the best way we could.

Irish people living in England or elsewhere than in
their home country, long for a sprig of shamrock on
St. Patrick's Day, and judging by the number of others
who wear the tiny trefoil or its substitute, that emblem
has no rival. Requests for shamrock had been so
numerous in the spring of nineteen hundred and ten,
that the owner of a small greengrocer's shop (her
nurse daughter was a friend of mine) advised me to
buy a supply wholesale. Furthermore, one Saturday,
as the grey dawn was breaking, she drove me to
market in her vegetable cart away to the north side
of the city. It was a darksome hour to be sure, but
the warmhearted familiarity of the stall-keepers was
irresistibly enlivening. There were sacks full of
freshly gathered shamrock, and what looked so very
pretty were the long trails hanging from the plant.
The " dear little shamrock" does not belie its name.

St. Patrick's night was celebrated by going to
concerts or dances, or by having parties at home.
My last year in Ireland the Pickwick Club arranged for
a masquerade with all its jubilant fun and puzzledom.
Owing to the fact that very few mentioned they
were likely to be there, we greatly surprised one
another when we unmasked. " I did not know you
were here ! " friends exclaimed joyfully. One man
alone remained placid and went on eating, the man
impersonating the fat boy. Dancing, however, never
attracted me, and with the exception of this ball, one
given by Chancellor's and two small dances, my
pastimes have been of other natures.

What a salutary recreation walking could be years

IRELAND

ago when pedestrians were not harassed by road
traffic and choking dust on every side. The other
day I came across a picture postcard posted at Stillor-
gan on the twenty-fourth of June, nineteen hundred
and ten. The original craving for picture postcards
was illimitable. People collected albums full, and
to-day the correspondence at the back of the cards
recalls the past to mind. Written on it are these
words "Four of us are on the road again walking to
Bray. We have a holiday as it is the King's official
birthday."

Bray, a pretty little coast town, was about twelve
miles south from Dublin. If we wanted to spend an
evening on the Esplanade when the band was playing
we could quickly get there by train. Once, we walked
round Bray Head. This was rather a precarious
undertaking, as the path disappeared at times, the
shingly cliff running sheer down to the sea, so we never
repeated it. The day we passed through Stillorgan on
the way to Bray it rained a little. I wonder if my
colleagues remember eating biscuits in a shop until the
sky cleared ?

A delightfully long walk inland led to Poulaphouca
Waterfall. Except for the last mile or so, the route was
covered by the quaintest of trams---the Blessington
Steam Tram---which was very handy for a lift on the
way back, if one knew when it would be running and
where to sit to escape the smoke. Irish ivy growing in
my garden brings back to memory the charming
waterfall among the verdant foliage where with diffi-
culty we succeeded in getting a piece of the ivy rooted
below the fall.

By the seaside in the north of County Dublin there

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

stood the quiet town of Skerries. From the capital
it was only a short distance by train making possible
a day's excursion at any time. From Skerries to
Balbriggan, famous for its hose, was a very pleasant
walk, with the country and the sea on either hand.
Once upon a time Skerries was the summer resort for
boys belonging to the Royal Hibernian Military School ;
but the boys have grown to men, and their school is no
more. At the present day there is in Dover a boarding
school for the sons of soldiers and ex-soldiers---the
Duke of York's Royal Military School. Years ago
when the Duke of York's School was in Chelsea, there
was a similar school, the Royal Hibernian Military
School, in Phoenix Park, Dublin. With the building
of a new school, the "Dukies" moved from their
original home, and later on, when the Irish Free State
came into existence, the Hibernian boys had to be
transferred to Dover.

The cheerful friend whom I first met when crossing
the Irish Sea was an ideal walking companion ; a lover
of nature and the open road she would trudge along
silently for hours, perceiving, and allowing one to
perceive uninterruptedly the beauties of the universe,
and yet, on the other hand, be ever ready for timely
conversation.

One Easter week-end, deciding to go for a tour from
a new starting point, we took train to Drogheda arriv-
ing there late in the afternoon. In the little shop where
we had tea, we also found sleeping accommodation-
that is to say we found accommodation, for it was a
sleepless night. We had followed a maid up many flights
of dark narrow stairs, passing on each landing small
doors, outside which and attached to the wall were tiny

IRELAND

vessels for holy water, to a room at the top of the house.
Here, before the piece of candle the maid left had
spluttered out, we hurried to bed, wondering who all
the people were in a picture hanging over the mantel-
shelf. Quietness prevailed. Somewhere a clock struck
ten. Again silence. Then, through the stillness a
piano and other instruments were heard making merry
music until the early hours of the morning, accom-
panied, rhythmically, by dozens of dancing feet,

Whilst at breakfast we learned that the picture
contained miniature heads of all the Popes from St.
Peter to his present successor ; that the employees of
a neighbouring establishment were after holding one
of their regular dances ; and that the gentleman whose
room we had occupied (!) was out golfing for a few
days.

Where the River Boyne flows into the Irish Sea,
Drogheda has existed through many a wave of time.
In sixteen hundred and forty-nine the town was
fearsomely ravaged by Cromwell's cannon as the
ruins evince ; the ancient walls were shattered except-
ing the St. Laurence Gate, which splendid piece of
antiquity still remains.

Wending our way from the town, we wandered in
the sunshine along the peaceful valley of the Boyne, one
time sitting on a bank to eat the oranges and buns
we had brought with us, the only sound the song of the
birds above the quiet battlefield ; and another time
passing Slane Castle which was close by the field
of battle. Eventually the day's walk brought us to
Navan ravenously hungry.

The small hotel provided us with an excellent meal
of ham and eggs, bread, butter, and tea, and we made

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

for the railway station to return to Drogheda. Luckily
we missed the last train. Had we been on it we would
have been stranded for there was a breakdown on
the line that night. We were not sorry to return
to the hotel, and in less than no time were fast
asleep.

It was the clerk in the booking office next morning,
who, recognising us, spoke of the mishap to the train
overnight. Back in Drogheda, we set off again, this
time walking along the coast until hunger drove us
into a wayside house in Laytown. A huge loaf, a dish
of butter, a pot of tea and the ever welcome ham and
eggs appeared on the table. Never were healthy
appreciative appetites catered for more truly than in
Ireland, and never was dairy produce more inexpensive,
pure and wholesome than in those days. An after-
noon's relaxation by the sea ended a short pleasing
holiday. Apart from the feeling of physical well-
being that a walk gives, was the joy of feeling less an
onlooker in the world, because of fellowship with
others in various phases of life, whom, but for walking,
we might never know.

Strange people occasionally cross one's path. Once
when visiting Enniskillen I was walking by the shores
of Lough Erne. An old, old woman dragged towards
me and began talking. She said she ought not to
be alive as the priest had given her " Extry Notion "
and anointed her for dead. No words of mine could
cheer her, and she dragged wearily on muttering
that she was still waiting to die.

Fine art. I was once in a peasant's cottage in
County Donegal. Beside a small window sat a shy
young Irish colleen, her lap covered with a white

IRELAND

sheet. On it was spread a beautiful piece of Carrick-
macross lace which she was making for the priest's
robe.

The mention of County Donegal brings to memory
an amusing incident. Staying in Bundoran with a
friend, we were exploring caves in the rocks under the
Fairy Bridges one morning. My friend was wearing
an Irish tweed costume, but I had put on an old rain-
coat. With care, for the rocks were slimy and weedy,
and for the most part separated from each other by
deep pools, we managed to step some distance into
the interior. Forewarned by the increasing thunderous
noise of the water rushing into the mouth of the
cave, we turned, to escape the tide. A few moments
later, sensing a splash, I looked round and saw my
companion floating in a pool! It took our combined
efforts to get her out, for the thick tweed sagged heavily
in the water. When we reached the house, the costume
skirt had to be put through the mangle and pegged
out to dry; and we had to spend the afternoon
indoors owing to wardrobe limitations.

The day we drove to Ballyshannon was free from
mishap. At the time, the salmon pits were empty,
and we were led to and fro across them on wet slippery
planks, all the while listening to details about the
fisheries in the neighbourhood, and hearing of the
methods of trapping and killing salmon.

Driving rapidly from Ballyshannon---given a side
car and a clear coast one was as free as the air---we
hoped to get to Belleek before the pottery works closed.
The village was only a little beyond the county border
line (in these days beyond the Free State border line,
since County Donegal is in the Irish Free State and

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

County Fermanagh under English rule), but we were
just too late.

Rambling through pastures around Bundoran, many
were the stone walls we un-built and re-built when
finding our way to the grassy slopes below which the
Atlantic washed the long yellow stretch known as
the Finner Strand. From the footpaths, the mountains
of Donegal were seen in the distance, and on a clear
day the white horses on the Atlantic billows could
be seen for miles.

The arrival of the fleet at Kingstown in Coronation
year (1911), awakened the ultra excitement which
always prevails when the Navy calls. From the
moment of its august silent approach and sudden
thundering salute, was the feeling of something
different in the air, something compelling a constant
liveliness until the ships put to sea again.

Kingstown was magnetic to the majority of our
household because of the radiant sunsets to be seen
from the pier. Often and often have we watched
with admiration the blaze of colour along the coastal
horizon as it interfolded its hues a thousand times.

Advertised at periods were round cruises in the Bay,
on steamers plying between Dublin, Kingstown and
Howth. A long afternoon on the water was made
possible, but the wind and weather were conformable
to no rules. Occasionally between Kingstown and
Howth there were great chances of finding one's sea
legs, and of deciding between a gentle or rapid incline.

Staying in Port Said a few years ago, I donned
(indoors) an out-of-date bathing costume to compare
with modern modes. The Dublin fashion of bygone
days was not without interest to some young teachers

IRELAND

just going for a swim, but I fancy they were a little
afraid lest the befrilled vision in turkey red might
accompany them to the beach. Tennis in long skirts
would appear equally strange in comparison with
the attire nowadays worn on the courts, yet, of old, we
enjoyed our games at the Rathmines Tennis Club every
whit as much as the average players of to-day enjoy
theirs.

Six months before my service in Home Stations
came to an end, I was warned to hold myself in readiness
to embark for India, (I have never been to India.
A motor accident laid me aside until the Trooping
Season was over, and then, after a month's notice, I
sailed not East, but West.) Out of curiosity on
receipt of the warning, a special visit was made to
the Botanical Gardens, not only as on former occasions
to see the flowers and plants, but to get an idea of
torrid heat from the hothouses where tropical palms
and specimens were tended to perfection. The friend
with me soon wanted to leave the abnormal warmth
as we were not lightly clothed, and we came out as a
gardener was gently spraying exotic palms for the third
time in twelve hours.

The school in Portobello Barracks where I had been
teaching was for boys and girls between the age of
eight and fourteen years. With the exception of myself
it was staffed entirely by army schoolmasters and
non-commissioned officer assistants, because soldiers
attended after the children were dismissed. The
Headmaster was the strictest man I have ever met.
His supervision of all classes was regular and thorough,
as in those days results were expected from each
child. When he was understood, however, he apprec-

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

iated and commended anyone who developed the
work habit. Every afternoon at three o'clock the
girls assembled in a special room in the Infants'
School, for Needlework, a subject taught by school-
mistresses. One division was allotted to me, as my
ordinary duties ended at three p.m. The children
who lived in Portobello were home soon after four
o'clock every day, but the ones who lived in Ship
Street Barracks had a long journey in a Red Cross
waggon.

When the children were gone, pupil teachers had
to remain for tuition connected with their studies, so
that by the time I returned to the hostel it was nearly
six o'clock. The evening meal was half an hour later,
giving sufficient respite in the winter before going
out again if one felt inclined. As there were chances
to continue the study of Music and Drawing and to
take up the subject of Domestic Economy, my spare
time was fully occupied in those pursuits.

I was very sorry to leave Ireland, for life there had
been very pleasant. One time only I remember
feeling sad, and that was on the platform of a country
railway station when weeping emigrants and relatives
were taking a long farewell of each other.

Going abroad, for me, as for every army school-
mistress, meant severing home ties completely. Facili-
ties for travel were not the same then as now, and
distances were relatively greater before the continents
connected by air and radio. Nevertheless a nomadic
life had its compensations, and there was always the
honour of serving the Empire.

J A M A I C A

JAMAICA, discovered by Christopher Columbus in
1494, has been a British Colony since its capture from
the Spaniards by Admiral Penn and General Venables
in 1655. At the time of its discovery, Arawak Indians
were living in the island---their name for it "Xaymaca"
meaning " Isle of Springs "---but they died out under
the cruel regime of the Spaniards, who replaced them
with negro slaves from Africa. Thirty-seven years
after the English had taken possession of Jamaica
a great earthquake occurred and Port Royal, the
treasure city of pirates and buccaneers, vanished for
the most part beneath the waves. The portion left
exists today.

There were three Army Schools in Jamaica. On
disembarkation at Kingston, I was conducted from
the incoming Steam-packet to a W.D. launch, and
taken across the harbour to the end of a narrow,
marshy strip of sand and scrub, there to live and---
teach. The isolated peninsula, on which few places
were more than five minutes' walk from each other
was the remaining sea-level portion of Port Royal.

Inside a strong old fort (our hurricane quarters
should need arise), stood the Garrison School, amid
undisturbed and peaceful surroundings. A large
inner room was usually occupied by the bigger boys
and girls, while the smaller children did their lessons

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

on a jalousied verandah, shadily cool from overhanging
branches of old trees growing in the garden. When
the wheelwright's shop next door was abandoned as
such, it made a nice playroom for Infants who had
hundreds of floor bricks to build with and a toy-
making room for others who were able to make use
of the carpenter's benches.

School hours in the land of eternal summer were
from half-past seven to half-past eleven every morning
except Saturday and Sunday, and even at the early
hour of seven-thirty the girls often wore dark gauzy
veils to protect their eyes from the sun.

For the first twenty to thirty minutes from Novem-
ber to April, remedial Physical Training was possible
under the drill shed close to our front door, and a
lengthy stretch the other side of the garden provided
a run for sports practice. There was enough space
also to play Rounders and Captain Ball on the flag-
stones with which the ground was paved, but as soon
as the sun peeped over the palm tree at the corner of
the fort we had to go in. All doors and windows were
wide open as the temperature was more than eighty
degrees Fahrenheit. For two hours at least, the air
was warm and still, then Jamaica's daily sea breeze
"The Doctor" scattered papers and purposes until
windward jalousies and windows could be closed.

Mid-morning the children were given a brief interval.
Always very thirsty, they refreshed themselves with
oranges and astounding quantities of water. The
water in Port Royal was wholesome but additionally
we boiled or filtered it. In their light clothing, sitting
on a bench under the trees, or walking in the shady
dungeon yard below, the young folk were a contrast

JAMAICA

to their boisterous brethren in the United Kingdom.
There were not many children at school. The numbers
varied from two dozen, more or less, according to the
sizes of the families stationed in Port Royal. For
some time, appointed locally, there was an assistant,
but afterwards, I was singlehanded.

At the far side of the fort there were steps leading
upward to a platform, at one end of which the Union
Jack was flying from sunrise to sunset. Here, in
days gone by, the youthful Nelson, as Governor of
the Fort, paced to and fro watching for the French
fleet expected to attack the island. Affixed to the
western wall below, a tablet to his memory reminded us
of our great hero.

IN THIS PLACE
DWELT
HORATIO NELSON

YOU WHO TREAD HIS FOOTPRINTS
REMEMBER HIS GLORY

From " Nelson's Deck, " our name for the platform
there was a boundless view of the Caribbean Sea, and
turning left, beyond the harbour, mountain ranges
towered behind Kingston. Geographical and Historical
backgrounds were never lacking.

By the end of the morning all were quite ready
for home, food and rest. My new residence was a
bungalow by the sea. There were people on either
hand, but I lived alone. The bungalow was furnished
and fitted with household requirements, excepting

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

crockery, cutlery and table linen that I had had to
bring from England. Suspended from the bedposts,
mosquito nets excluded tiny buzzing insects, very
harmful if by chance they carried malarial germs.
Electric light had been installed, and we were accounted
lucky, for hanging lamps that flared with every gust
of wind were still used in most places.

From the verandah to the water's edge there was
a wide stretch of sand and pebbles, and almost in the
centre, at right angles, was a light railway leading
to an outfort. At the break of day noisy blasts from
sirens on Royal Mail, United Fruit, or Hamburg-
American Liners calling for pilots or the Port Doctor,
awakened dwellers on the shore; in the afternoon,
nothing disturbed the silence of a siesta while the sun
blazed down on the deserted beach.

There were few places where one could walk in Port
Royal. And there was little to see or do when the
day's work was over. Those who had to live there
however, fashioned their own lives and made the best
of things. It did not take long to get accustomed to
tropical conditions. For many months in the year
the weather was delightful, especially during the hours
preceding night, which fell with an all-too-soon sudden-
ness, about seven o'clock in the summer and earlier in
the winter.

Fishing was a solace to many, "Jack" and
Snapper provided a good meal, and great excite-
ment prevailed whenever a man landed a huge playful
shark. Once, when two of my schoolboys were
fishing, they caught a shark nearly as big as them-
selves.

Traffic regulations were unnecessary for there was

JAMAICA

no traffic. The only animal (excluding pets), was the
R.E. donkey, and he had lost his left ear. In the
Dockyard gardens, figureheads from bowsprits of
long ago frowned or stared boldly at palms and
oleanders, while we loitered by tamarind and almond
trees, or played tennis on the hard court near by.
Walking along the railway track to a bridge spanning
a little creek in the Palisades gave us a certain amount
of exercise, but the two cemeteries beyond the bridge,
the native one where graves were covered with big
shells, and the old Naval cemetery walled round and
closed for many years, made it eerie to go much farther.

One night, working in school, for there was always
something to do there, and it helped to pass the time,
I found an interesting chart of Port Royal. The
comparative dimensions of the town at transpositional
periods were indicated on it in four colours. The
first outline, by far the biggest one, showed the original
size of the wealthy site before the 1692 earthquake;
another contour bounded the small area left above
water when two-thirds of the town had been sub-
merged that year; a third line, drawn prior to 1907
progressed considerably seaward, as by that time
a deal of ground had been gained on the Caribbean
edge (our bungalows were built on it) ; and the last
belt localised Port Royal after the earthquake of 1907.

The civilian quarter of Port Royal was situated be-
tween the Dockyard and the Garrison. The inhabitants
were British and, like all Jamaicans, loyal to the core.
Except for Government Officials and a few other
people they were very poor and were dependable for
their livelihood on fishing and any jobs of work in
connection with the military. They had their own

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

elementary school, and, close beside it, was the fine old
St. Peter's Church where our Parade Service was held,
because the padre in charge (the Rector of All Saints;
Kingston), was the Acting Chaplain to the Forces.

Our facilities for shopping locally were limited to a
dry canteen in the Garrison, a small Chinaman's shop
outside and to the purchase of fruit and vegetables
from market women who daily came across the harbour.
Meat and bread were brought over on the ration boat
every morning, and freshly caught fish were generally
on sale. Many people, however, preferred to get
their chief supplies in Kingston.

The trip across the harbour could be pleasantly
serene or alarmingly rough. It depended a little on
the weather but more on the launch. The Rodney, a
small motor vessel affording scant protection against
sun and spray made the wharf in Princess Street in
half an hour, taking the short cut. So shallow was
it in parts that fishermen left their dugouts and
stood on the bottom of the harbour to fish. Trees
growing out of the water to the right hid lagoons,
formed, so it is said, during the upheaval of 1692.
Over the lagoons a rowing boat would carry one
through the sea forest to Plum Point Lighthouse on
the Palisades.

The Somers, a symmetrical two-decker steam
launch, had braved the Atlantic with an engineer and
two men when coming for service in Jamaica. Forty-
five minutes averaged her run from Port Royal to
Kingston, because she rounded the deep channel
course to the landing stage. Apostles Battery, the
Quarantine Station, and Port Henderson busily sending
barges of bananas to the shipping centre were seen on

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the port hand; then came into the picture Fort
Augusta where the Fox Film Company once erected
and destroyed by fire an eastern city for " A Daughter
of the Gods." (In the role of Arabs, their faces
averted from the camera, Port Royal Jamaicans were
glad to assist and earn a few shillings.) Between
Fort Augusta and Kingston the Rio Cobre, one of the
finest rivers in Jamaica, flowed into the harbour.
Here the channel was deep, and abounded with shark
on the lookout for food and refuse dumped by ships.
And here, one morning, the cry "Man Overboard"
disturbed a quiet journey. At the time we were
making for Port Royal. Immediately, the skipper
had the launch turned to go back for the unfortunate
workman. Never shall I forget seeing above the water
his head---nothing---boots---nothing---until we picked
him up. He had a lucky escape thanks to the prompt
action of the skipper, and to the help of passing
fishermen. For the rest of the trip he lay on the deck
shouting " I'm dead, I'm dead ! " proving he was very
much alive.

Another launch, one confiscated during the War,
slowly chugged round the channel and reached her
destination---when she did.

The official time-table was rigidly adhered to,
and as it was not arranged to suit pleasurable require-
ments, we often sighed for a better service. The last
launch of the evening left Kingston at a quarter to
seven, except once a week, when it left at eleven o'clock.

After the War, again being posted to Port Royal
(by request), I resided in Kingston, travelling to and
fro each day. The morning glory of the beautiful
harbour was ever entrancing and calm, and a friendly

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

touch was now and then added by the Somers ex-
changing salutes with a vessel from the outer world.
Gone was the Rodney, and in her place other launches
were buffeted by wind and wave to the discomfiture
of passengers who escaped a watery grave but
landed on the wharf wet through.

. . . . . .

The grand sight of the mountain ranges made one
long to be near them, and I eagerly accepted an offer
to join a party going to Port Antonio. By approxi-
mately quoting mileage from Kingston and elevation
above sea level, a little idea of the ups and downs of
the circumductory way by rail may be conveyed.
Spanish Town, the old capital, our first notable stop,
twelve miles inland to the west of Kingston, (the
capital since 1872) was ninety-four feet above the sea.
In the next nine miles, travelling north-west, we
ascended one hundred and ninety-four feet to Bog
Walk, the valley of the swift Rio Cobre where luxuriant
vegetation clothed the hillsides ; then going north-east
we climbed four hundred and forty-six feet in ten miles
to Troja, looking down from dizzy heights to an abun-
dance of sparkling green foliage in ravines below.
Just above Troja, after climbing to the highest point,
we dropped in the next five miles two hundred and
ninety feet down to Richmond where the people
came out twice a day to see the trains go by---one to
Kingston and one to Port Antonio. Richmond was
well protected for growing bananas for the ground
rose again in less than three miles, two hundred and
seventy-eight feet to Highgate. From here, we
straightway descended over six hundred feet in

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four miles, finding ourselves about a hundred feet
or so above sea level at Albany, from whence a seven-
mile track due east took us gradually to Annotto
Bay. The highlands we had crossed were in the
parishes of St. Catherine and St. Mary, and the last
twenty-five miles eastward along the northern shore
of Jamaica brought us via Buff Bay, Orange Bay, and
Hope Bay in Portland, to Port Antonio. Four hours
twenty minutes was the scheduled time for the seventy-
five miles to be covered, yet, as the crow flies, from
Kingston to Port Antonio was about a third of that
distance ; the Blue Mountain and Newcastle Ranges
intervened. When the train reached Port Antonio,
we welcomed her at the platform. She had broken
down doing the last half-mile, and so we walked ahead
of her on the railroad.

The plain of Liguanea on which Kingston and its
suburbs are built, rises very gently from the edge of the
harbour, first of all to low ranges of hills, and then to
higher hills and splendent mountains, to the cloud-
capt summit of Blue Mountain Peak. From the Victoria
Market in Kingston there was a tram run of forty-
eight minutes to the Papine terminus and a buggy drive
of twenty minutes up and into the hills to Gordon Town,
the starting point for delightful excursions. After
ten miles of curving and turning along the driving
road ever rising higher and higher, or after six miles
of zig-zagging by the bridle path, behold Newcastle, our
hill Quarters for the summer.

One morning, early in the month of May, buggies
awaited us at the Ordnance (Princess Street) Wharf, and
in the light open carriages we drove to cooler homes.
An advance party had gone on a few weeks ahead to

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

prepare for our coming, as in those days Newcastle
was closed for the winter season.

Like a huge flight of steps on the mountain-side,
the long huts appeared and disappeared as we wheeled
sharply betwixt creepers and trees, driving backwards
and forwards describing the letter "S" again
and again where roads had been cut above each other.

Four thousand feet up we came to a standstill,
having reached the "Square." Newcomers getting
out of the buggies wondered where they would live,
for at first sight there were to be seen but a few offices,
a guardroom, a church, and a gymnasium. The eyes
being directed variously, however, attempts were
made to catch a glimpse of huts and roofs playing
bo-peep among the tree tops. On we went again,
some going down stone steps, some going up a steepness
hard by, some following a roadway to upper ridges,
some keeping to the gully road dipping towards a
lower ride and one, myself, continuing onward to
a winding path that led to Catherine's Peak.

Where the path rose rapidly the hillside on the left
was overgrown with ferns and grasses, and on the
right where the ground had been cut and levelled
stood my little hut with a rustic fence enclosing the
lawn in front of it. One side was sheltered by
the bank of the rising path, and the other was open
to an entanglement of prickly undergrowth. At the
back of the hut tall ginger lilies and wild bananas
grew plentifully until they were lost in the impassable
bush.

The hut consisted of a dining-room, a bedroom, a
kitchen with a wood fire and a closed-in verandah,
the latter accommodating my servant. (I had one

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servant, a faithful soul who did everything for me.
Of African descent, reading and writing well, a good
needlewoman and a Wesleyan she was proud of her
name Mary, and the date of her birth, 23rd June.
We still correspond after all these years.) Personal
baggage came up on the backs of mules and, household
equipment being already there, a simple but cosy
dwelling was soon habitable. An oil lamp hung in
the centre of the dining-room, the useful candle served
its turn otherwise, and a hurricane lamp was carried
out of doors. Water was laid on, and in comparison
with the tank system of other hill resorts was quite a
luxury.

Where was the school ? No separate building was
available for the children, and so the church had to
be used. It was easily convertible, and being very
large, there was plenty of room for everybody---my
own scholars, " change of air children " from the
Army School in Up Park Camp Kingston, and the
children of civil emp]oyees in Newcastle. Hours
of attendance, fixed to suit local conditions, were from
eight a.m. to one p.m. with thirty minutes' break
for refreshment. Saturdays and Sundays were free,
but the children came voluntarily to Sunday School
after one had been suggested.

Thursday was often "picnic day." Genial groups
were formed and about twenty men, women, and
children filed up the mountain-side. A donkey with
provisions, kettles and sundries and a rope for a
swing, click-clacked over the pebbly road. Ideal
rambles they were, doing the health good. Blackberries,
bilberries, and tiny wild strawberries were picked as
we sauntered along; the beautiful blue agapanthus,

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

the sweet-smelling honeysuckle, the red hibiscus
blossom---"Shoeblack" the Jamaicans called it, be-
cause it could black shoes---and the thick tufts of dagger
with creamy bells were a joy to the eyes ; mango trees
drooping with mangos, rose apple trees with fruit
tasting like the scent of a rose, lemon trees with
spiked branches and orange trees on which fruit,
blossoms, and leaves, grew at the same time, were a
few of the trees we passed; and the ferns---I have
never seen children more truly rapturous than ours, as
they flitted from bank to bank discovering one variety
after another of the delicately tinted fronds.

We usually started for a picnic after lunch, and on
reaching the chosen spot, tea was laid on the grass.
What a tempting array of creature comforts ! Pine-
apples decorated and held the cloth down and the
plates of sandwiches, sausage rolls, sponges, scones
and cakes, were not a dream. A well-merited vote
of thanks was given to the workers. After fulfilling
their duty, the pineapples were substantially sliced
and eaten. " Perfectly luscious."

And Thursday night was often " concert night."
With a hurricane lamp for nocturnal guidance folk
made their way cautiously to a recreation hut below
the Square. Croaking bullfrogs or a mongoose might
cross the road, but there were no wild animals. Lights
rising and falling in the darkness were mysterious,
and could be mistaken for the bright glow of a cigarette,
indicating someone's approach by a hidden pathway.
The lights were fire-flies and more likely than not
were hovering over a bush in the gully. So we learned
to be wary in walking towards that path !

While enjoying the change of living in the hills, we

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did not forget the place we had left behind, "Out
of sight out of mind" was not applicable to Port
Royal, for we saw it every day unless the view was
obscured by mist. And to realise Port Royal one
needed to see it from a height. Was it possible we
lived in a frying-pan ? The configuration showed such
to be the case, and the Palisades completed the
illusion by fashioning the handle. Curious in shape
the peninsula certainly was, but it entered into the
midst of a great panorama, which from Newcastle
was marvellously beautiful. Neither brush nor pen
can describe the beauty of Jamaica ; nor, for charm of
seascape and landscape, shadowed by clouds posing
in transcendent pictures across the heavens, can any
scene from Newcastle be equalled.

Walking to many of the places in the hills was rather
tiring and so I commenced riding. Greenwich Ridge,
west of Newcastle, deserted except for the old huts of a
closed military station, led upwards round through
Hardware Gap to the north side where began the
descent to Buff Bay. The views from the Gap were
magnificent. Instead of descending, I followed the
road to Silver Hill, a coffee growing estate, where
lunch consisting of chicken, yampee, fried plantain
and avocado pear was very acceptable. At Silver
Hill there was a medicinal spring, and visitors, if they
liked, were able to drink a glass of quinine straight
from the well. (Quinine was recommended by doctors
in Jamaica, and could be bought at any Post Office
a farthing a tablet.) On the way home, after making
for Catherine's Peak and Clifton Mount, my hut was
seen down below, and a long circular tour among the
quiescence of nature came to an end.

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

Going to Gordon Town by the rugged bridle path,
walking was preferable to riding---if the tumbling
pace downhill could be called walking. The horses, as
a rule, were "hillworthy" animals, but they objected
to downward paths, at least, mine did. One I often
rode, bolted into the bush one afternoon, refusing all
my coaxings to descend. Eventually, he returned to
the path, but would not go down it. I dismounted and
led him, but as soon as I got on his back again he stood
firm. Half a dozen times I dismounted before he gave
in. Where a stream trickled through the green
hillside and across the path, or, near waterfalls, he
was placid; and where the rocky path ran by the
side of a rushing torrent he took no notice of the river,
although the vibration effected by the water dashing
over huge boulders droned in my ears until the final
bridge was crossed. The friend I was meeting at
Gordon Town (she was coming to stay with me), met
me at this point, having ridden on when I failed to
appear, and the horses did the upward journey quite
contentedly.

During the midsummer holidays we set out at five
o'clock one morning to go to the highest peak in
Jamaica, which was in another range, taking a supply
of food on a mule and a boy to act as guide. Descend-
ing to the valley of the Yallahs we forded the winding
river ever so many times before reaching the foot of
the Blue Mountains. It was very hot. The horses
wanted to prance about in the water, and we had
hard work to keep them from lying down in it. Once
more above the valley, new and enthralling beauties
of trees and foliage extended for miles. We visited, and
were shown over the works of a noted coffee estate,

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and then came to the fine old tenantless house where
travellers might sleep overnight. A negro caretaker
with his wife and children and numerous relatives
lived in the outhouse at the back. Water was quickly
boiled and brought to us ; we prepared and enjoyed a
meal, and afterwards in the open grate made a log
fire to warm ourselves a while before retiring.

It was dark when we started at half-past two next
morning. Keeping to the inner side of the mountain
path for safety, and leaning towards the horses' heads
to avoid the branches dangling from the trees, we were
an hour or more getting to the steep narrow ruts up
which the animals plodded perseveringly to the summit.
Benumbed with cold, we could hardly stand at first, but
the sunrise more than rewarded our venture. Had
we been later the Cuban horizon would have been
invisible. As it was, a mist soon enveloped us and the
little hut, so looking for no more strawberries, we de-
scended through the foliage ferns and flowers, not a
little awed every now and then by dangerous precipices
unobserved on the earlier journey. We spent some
time in the garden after breakfast and were sorry
most of all to leave the big oak tree which was very
reminiscent of the Homeland. Riding back to New-
castle we passed through two storms. Twice we were
soaked to the skin; twice the sun dried our clothes as
we cantered along ; but we arrived safely home by
dusk of the second day, and were never any the
worse for the wetting.

Emancipation Day, August the first, was a day of
great rejoicing and feasting among the hundreds of
thousands of black people who formed the majority
of the population of the island. A friend once took

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

me to see an old negro who was a boy of nine when
slavery* was abolished. Sitting upright on a couch---
he had lost the use of his legs but his intellect was
wonderfully alert---he spoke well of his parents and
employers and chatted most interestingly about the
daily work on the land in those bygone years when
they were always busy, kindly treated and wanted
for nothing. About the younger generation he was
not very enthusiastic, and the neglected state of
properties in districts once so flourishing did not meet
with his approval at all.

The peaceful trend of our life in Newcastle was
sensationally disturbed the following year by two
unexpected happenings. Awakened by the rocking
of my bed one morning, I threw on a wrap and hurried
to the end of the lawn, turning and facing the hut
as it swayed to a standstill. Mary had also hastened
outside. In less than a minute, although it seemed
longer to us, all was apparently normal, so I went
back to bed. Exactly one hour later, as I was drinking
my early morning coffee, the bed rocked again, so I
dressed and walked to my nearest neighbour. After
those two shocks, we felt at least a dozen smaller
tremblings during the day. No great damage was
done luckily; the men's concrete swimming bath
cracked and let out the water; the medicine bottles
in the Hospital Dispensary were smashed, and in one
place a long cleft appeared in the road.

* When the British Parliament abolished the Slave Trade be-tween Africa and Jamaica, no slaves were allowed to be imported after 1st March, 1808. Slaves in the island continued to be slaves under varying conditions until 1st August, 1838, when complete freedom was given to all. A little idea of the state of affairs before and since emancipation may be gleaned by reading the History of Jamaica.

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The following morning tremors of a different nature
came our way, this time by telephone. Dreadful
news was being transmitted from England, and as
the day wore on, the local Post Office was visited
momently for further details. Next afternoon, in
the recreation hut, when we were rehearsing choruses
for Thursday, a man with rapid strides burst into the
room, waving a paper and shouting, "You can cancel
your concert, there's war on ! "

Disquieted, restless, anxious, womenfolk and children
stayed in Newcastle, the men being recalled at once
to enter upon special duties. The hill season was
not expected to close before October, but most of
the families went down earlier that year, only a few
remaining to the end.

Among the civil population there was great excite-
ment all over the island. Money was subscribed
immediately to send Home to help towards comforts
for sailors and soldiers; the West India Regiment
(a regiment of black soldiers stationed in Kingston at
that time), stood ready for any emergency, and,
locally, a defence corps was formed.

Until December, there were fears for the safety of
Jamaica, but Admiral Sturdee's victory at the Falkland
Islands on the eighth of the month freed us from the
possibility of attack.

A party of captives, mercantile seamen from the
high seas, landed in Port Royal one day to be interned
in the Garrison. The embrasures in Fort Charles
were bricked up, and so was the entrance, and we' had
to use "Nelson's Back Door," a quaint old doorway
with a curious drawing of flags and sailors above it.

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

The newcomers were given our soldiers' quarters,
with the parade ground in front for exercise, the
soldiers being accommodated elsewhere. A barbed
wire fence enclosed and a few sentries guarded the
limited area. To earn a little money for cigarettes,
some of the prisoners pen-painted on stones, and in
the evenings, while I was working in school, I often
overheard their voices blending in harmony as they
passed the time by singing.

The sentries lived in a guardroom near the parade
ground. Once, when a man was cleaning his rifle, it
went off---bang ! Up jumped another man, and
exploding with wrath fiercely rated the careless person
for his stupidity ; then sat down again. After a
moment someone shouted " Hi ! P----, look at your
boot ! " The man who had jumped up, looked. Blood
was streaming on to the floor! A German officer on
parole who had heard the report, paused as he was
passing the guardroom and saw the commotion.
Taking a bandage from his pocket, he proffered assis-
tance, and it was not until afterwards that the men
remembered the bandages in their own pockets !

Not for long did the seamen stay in Port Royal.
As soon as it was possible for other arrangements
to be made, they were sent to Halifax in Canada.

To Canada also, or to England, went many
Jamaicans, at first paying their own fares in order
to do their bit for King and Country. Before the
end of nineteen hundred and fifteen a Jamaica Con-
tingent had been raised and dispatched, and during
the War, nine contingents in all left for the front.

My school children wanted to help their Country.
On the beach they gathered "brown ladies" and

JAMAICA

other small shells, made and sold necklaces, and sent
the money to a lover of animals who was collecting
for the Blue Cross Fund.

Courses of lectures on First Aid and Home Nursing
were held in Kingston, nurses and doctors giving
their services free. I was able to go across to the
lectures, because, there not being a general move
to the hills next season, school continued in Port
Royal.

. . . . . .

Month after month of tropical summer at sea level
made one limp and listless, so I decided to go to St.
Ann for August, after a few days with a friend in
Kingston. The parish of St. Ann is known as the
garden of Jamaica on account of its exceeding beauty.
Passing Spanish Town and Bog Walk and branching
north-west the railway ends at Ewarton, twenty-nine
miles from Kingston. Seven hundred and sixty feet
are ascended in two hours. At Ewarton a buggy
met me and I sat beside the driver the better to view
the land. Over Mount Diablo (two thousand, one
hundred feet) to Moneague the country was very
pretty, and then several miles remained of lower
road before the journey's end. The driver had been
strangely quiet the whole time, and soon after leaving
Moneague I noticed he had gone to sleep. He was
tired out, I discovered later, with constant festivities.
Normally, no one expects to work during the week
in which Emancipation Day occurs, and I had picked
a bad time for travelling. On and on went the buggy;
no one passed us either riding or walking. I began to
feel sleepy myself, and dozed occasionally when the road
curves were far off. As we neared a few small dwellings

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

the man woke up, quite unnecessarily, for I am sure
we would have reached Hiattsfield safely in any case.

The lady with whom I was to experience my first
hurricane lived on a charming estate, the land sur-
rounding the house being covered with coco-nut
palms, fields of bananas, bread-fruit and pimento
trees. Years ago it had been a sugar estate, but where
slaves had toiled with might and main hired workers
tended corn and other crops.

The old house was long and broad, sun and storm
proof, the lower part being used by servants or as a
store. In the centre of the upper part stood a large
dining-room, with doors leading to bedrooms and
closed verandahs. From my window each morning I
could see my bath water arriving on the head of a
young negress as she came from a stream close by.

Supervising an estate is a busy occupation. When
Miss ---- finished with the headman, I accompanied her
on different rounds all the morning. In the coco-nut
walk a man shinned up a palm tree, brought down
water coco-nuts, trimmed them with a machete,
cut a hole in the top of each, and, if one could manage
the "husk," (that is, hold it to send the contents into
the mouth), a long drink was ready.

Cows were grazing in the coco-nut walk. Their
milk was very rich, and after the tinned milk and
butter in Port Royal, quite a treat.

Sometimes, peasant women came to buy produce
that had not been sent away for transhipment. What
lively haggling and joking we heard in the grove where
they assembled !

Collecting and pressing all kinds of dainty ferns
had been a hobby in Newcastle, and I was looking

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forward to seeing the Fern Gully in St. Ann. There
were many invitations from people in Ocho Rios and
St. Ann's Bay, and as the road to those places wended
through the famous glade, we passed and repassed
between the high fern-clad hills several times. If a
hood covered the vehicle in which we were driving,
mostly, only the ferns fringing the road were to be
seen, but with the hood down, a mass profusion of
varieties innumerable, from maidenhair to magnificent
tree ferns was a sight that extended for miles.

Near St. Ann's Bay, too, were the Roaring River
Falls, leaping and spurting from rocks and ridges
into fairy pools among tropical foliage. The loveliest
scene in "A Daughter of the Gods" was filmed here,
the Australian swimmer Annette Kellerman diving
from great heights while her youthful satellites played
in the waters below.

Cultivation was appearing at its best. An English
agriculturist from a neighbouring estate had ridden
over one day and as the atmosphere threatened it
seemed wise for him to remain. By the time we had
finished our evening meal, the wind was blowing
harder, so we barred and barricaded upstairs and down;
not a moment too soon, for the storm was upon us.
Raging furiously for hours, hurling coco-nuts and bread-
fruit with terrific force to thud on the roof or ground,
the hurricane, leaving destruction behind, swept
onward the next afternoon.

We had had little rest. As soon as it was calm, we
opened the house and went to see the damage near
at hand. Banana plants were lying across the barbecue
(stone floor for drying seeds in the sun), trees were

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

battered and stripped. None of the fallen coco-nuts
or bread-fruit could be found, and maize had dis-
appeared also ! It is said that a hurricane is the
negroes' harvest, and, according to the Chinaman
who lives in Jamaica " plenty 'mash up " is good for
everybody. Be that as it may, the majority of the
spoil had gone.

Investigation during the days following showed
uprooted pimento (all-spice) trees and fields of tents.
The "tents" were full-grown banana plants broken
half way up the stem, the upper portion toppling over
and touching the earth. Everywhere the ground
was strewn with debris, and often, on the way to the
coast, palm tops had been twisted off, naught but
stumps remaining. Thousands of golden oranges
floated in the blue sea at Oracabessa ; a large house
blown down in Port Maria had a roof lying in front
of it; a road round a promontory was smashed to
pieces, and wharves were reduced to piles of wreckage.
Sand washed in by the sea was heaped on either side
of the coastal road, and we noticed a forlorn hut---
somebody's home !---half a mile from where it belonged.

When I left Hiattsfield it was many years before I
returned, but I had occasional glimpses of Miss ----
when she was able to get to Kingston. Travelling
from place to place as one does in the army, friendships
can often only be maintained by correspondence, and
the mail-bag becomes heavier as the years go by.
Many valued friends I can never hope to see again,
and some alas ! have already passed on.

The friend I had stayed with in Kingston was now in
St. Ann at a place called Brown's Town, and we were
to finish the holiday together. Meeting at St. Ann's

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Bay for a War Charities' Concert we drove back that
night to her boarding-house.

First Aid can be rendered very drastically. In
the kitchen yard next morning, we saw the cook
with a kettle in her hand, pouring boiling water over
a boy's foot, her way of dealing with a large open
cut ! She was very pleased to accept our help, and the
passive boy soon became a bandaged hero.

In those days there was a small boarding-school in
Brown's Town, and the young Headmistress taking
us over whispered her hopes for the future. They
were realised some years afterwards in the Diocesan
High School for Girls, St. Hilda's.

From Brown's Town, a visit was enjoyed to Montego
Bay, my friend being the possessor of a seven seater
Hudson. Motors had so advanced in reliability and
speed with years of trial and progress that they were
fast replacing the old horse buggy. We drove through
miles of growing sugar, coming now and then to
factories and tall chimneys, and meeting picturesque
teams of draft-oxen specially bred for use on planta-
tions. Reaching Falmouth on the north coast, we
continued westward past many beautiful bays until
curiosity took us into Rose Hall, the largest and
wealthiest sugar estate of a century ago. When we
had seen over the once fine old Hall with its massive
mahogany doors and stairway, we wandered in the
neglected garden, pulling aside weeds to find the
graves of Ann Palmer and the three husbands she had
murdered. Ann Palmer was a notorious Mistress of
Rose Hall, and her fourth husband, so runs the story,
killed his despotic wife to avoid the fate of his pre-
decessors. The weirdest old woman imaginable (care-

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

taker, attendant ?) was standing close beside us.
Our preoccupation with events long past was evidently
not pleasing her too well, for she suddenly complained
in a whining tone, "Why seek ye the dead among
the living ? " . . . We often afterwards remarked her
words. Coming from one so wizened and ancient,
the contortion sounded strange in our ears and not a
little comical; actually, was it not an appeal against
loneliness ?

Of course we were more than ever charmed with
the north coast when we beheld the clear sparkling
water in the Doctor's Cave. The lovely little cove
was a treasure of a bathing place for Montego Bay
people, so easily accessible from town by car or buggy.

It was possible to go to Montego Bay from Kingston
by train, the lengthways journey of a hundred and
thirteen miles north-west attaining at Green Vale in
the parish of Manchester a height of just over seventeen
hundred feet.

. . . . . . .

We had lunch at a small hotel overlooking the Bay,
and returned by a slightly different route to Brown's
Town.

A cool summer resort in great favour with many
people was Mandeville, in the orange-growing parish
of Manchester, four hours distant from Kingston
via the Montego Bay line, alternatively, a sixty-
mile run by automobile. We stayed there on two
occasions, enjoying the pretty country walks, visits
to the market, a drive to the wireless station at
Coleyville,---one of the highest in the world---and
a drive to Spur Tree Hill, another noted view-point
in Jamaica. On the way to Spur Tree, the chauffeur

JAMAICA

gathered an armful of wild rosemary, telling us to
boil it, as the liquid made a good hair tonic.

. . . . . .

The city of Kingston when first I saw it had been
considerably rebuilt after the nineteen hundred and
seven earthquake, although, in places, there were
still crumbling ruins of offices and homes, reminding
one of the terrible disaster. King Street, the most
important thoroughfare, contained imposing banks
and big stores, and what are considered to be the best
Public Buildings in the West Indies. At its lower
end there was the terminus of the electric tramway
serving the main streets and connecting the suburbs,
and near the water front---for the harbour bordered
the foot of the street---a statue indicating a spot five
hours, ten minutes, seven seconds, west of Green-
wich. Opposite the statue stood the Victoria Market,
where one could get a little idea of the life and doings
of the peasantry, especially by going early on Saturday
mornings. In voluminous cotton dresses bunched
and girded round the waist, market women streamed
in, driving well-laden donkeys or carrying baskets of
produce on their heads.

The language spoken was English, but it was hard
to recognise. Persons and living things were given
the masculine gender indiscriminately ; final and initial
consonants were often dropped, the letters "b" and
"d" were used for "v" and "th"; "at " was
shortened to "a," the sound of "w" was inserted
before " oi, " and some words were prefixed by the
letter "y." Local terms for small money (British
coinage was in use), "Gill (soft "g") 3/4d." "Quattie
1-1/2d." "Bit 4-1/2d," were amusing to hear as they fell

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

from the lips of buyers demanding a quattie bananas,
gill of peas, and so on. The calculation I enjoyed
listening for was the rapid "Bit and gill;" meaning
that purchases amounted to fivepence-farthing !

A lady who had lived in Jamaica all her life, wrote
an alphabet heard as a child. Of its author and
origin she had no knowledge, and I write it as it was
passed to me:

THE JAMAICA ALPHABET
A fe Asinoo see how him stan'
B " Buckra bery bad man
C " Puss him name Maria
D " Duppy him y'eye shine like fire
E " Eel him lib in de ferry
F " Fiddler play bery merry
G " Gubnor him lib a King's House
H " Dry Harbour place poor as church mouse
I is a gentleman bery well bred
J fe John Crow him hab a peel' head
K " Kulaloo good when him bwoil
L " Lizard watch him tail spwoil
M " Monkey look 'pon him face
N " Nana him cap trim wid lace
0 " Oliphant look 'pon him snout
P " Pottoo a' night him come out
Q " Quattie "Beg Massa one please ?"
R " Ratta him tip-toe 'pon cheese
S " Snake him lib in de grass
T " Toad him for'ard and fas'
U " Unkie " Tell him ' Howdy' fe me " (How-do)
V " Vermicelli mek bery fine tea
W X Y me reely forget
Z is fe Zebedee mending his net
(N.B; --- Asinoo: asinine, a stupid fellow; Buckra: a
white Person ; Duppy : ghost ; John Crow : turkey-
buzzard, scavenger bird, raw looking head; Kulaloo:
spinach; Nana : nurse (female) ; Oliphant : elephant ;

JAMAICA

Pottoo ; owl ; Snake, harmless few ; I never saw one ;
Unkie; Uncle; Vermicelli; wheat paste or a herb?)

The year before I went to Jamaica the population
had been estimated at slightly more than eight hundred
and thirty-one thousand, of whom, approximately,
seventy-five per cent were Black and twenty per cent
Coloured. East Indians numbered just over two
per cent. Their presence in the island was due to the
importation of Coolie labour seven years after the
abolition of slavery, because the freed slaves pre-
ferred a life of idleness and the planters were unable
to get their land cultivated. The East Indians were
hard workers, and as their contracts expired they could
return to India if they wished, taking their savings
with them. Some returned; some thought it better
to stay ; and not far from Kingston a large settlement
had grown up, preserving the dress, customs and
ceremonies of the East.

Chinese were living in Jamaica, over two thousand
of them. Civil and industrious, they steadily built
up trade, their clean "general" shops appearing
everywhere as time went on. Through the open
doorway of the shop, placid John Chinaman would
be seen serving at the counter, with hundreds of tins
and packets neatly ranged on shelves behind him.
From large barrels on the floor he sold dried salt fish
sometimes cooked and eaten with the fruit of the akee
tree. On Sunday mornings I often saw Chinamen
driving to their Temple, for, as I thought, a religious
service. No such thing---they went to gamble their
week's earnings !

Fifteen thousand, or less than two per cent, of the
total population belonged to the white race. Residing

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

permanently in the island were descendants of British
subjects who had gone to Jamaica in past and fairly
recent years, and business and professional people
settled for longer or shorter periods according to
circumstances. There were also resident there, at-
tracted by business interests, people from Europe,
America and the neighbouring islands. Army folk
were of course transitional, normally staying for
three years; and, finally, over all, appointed by His
Majesty the King, was His Excellency the Governor,
who might stay for six years.

After the daily round in a temperate zone the
leisureliness of the tropics was an indulgence. Hours
for work, rest, and recreation were as a rule fairly
apportioned, although many people took little rest,
some lived for recreation, and some---especially
the happy-go-lucky peasants---regarded anything more
than the minimum of labour as too much botheration.
Generally speaking, most individuals worked all the
morning, "cooled off" after lunch, and prepared for
pleasure.

At the different clubs in Kingston, nearly every
kind of sport could be enjoyed. Residents who had
their own tennis courts were generously hospitable to
all newcomers, and social affairs---big, little, private
and public---were agreeable, well attended and endless.

There was a large theatre in the city used by local
amateurs for entertainments and concerts, and,
whenever they came on a visit, by a well-known London
company of actors and actresses.

When the cinema arrived in Kingston (America
securing a near-by customer for films), a "Palace"
designed in the open among palms, and a sheltered

JAMAICA

"Movies" with open sides became popular in the
evenings.

Bathing and swimming in the harbour were always
possible, and there was no danger within prescribed
limits if one knew them ! But when the unexpected
happened---it did one day, tragedy ending a bright
young life---people realised that it was wiser to keep
within the bounds of a swimming bath, where shark
were not able to enter.

With the growing importation of automobiles, new
pleasures were added to old, such as longer drives
through the beautiful environs of Kingston, and
picnic-excursions to the country. Castleton, nine-
teen miles from Kingston, was an ideal spot for a
picnic. After the delightful drive there was the in-
teresting palm and plant life of the Botanical Gardens
to look at, the River Wag Water to wade or bathe in,
and shady bowers of bamboo to sit under.

. . . . . .

In the military station of Up Park Camp, very
pleasantly situated just outside Kingston, there lived
a goodly number of army folk. They were within
easy reach of the city, and on the spot for all kinds of
amusement, but their greatest asset was the refreshing
cool breeze blowing nightly from the hills. As well
as details and detachments from England, a battalion
of the West India Regiment was quartered in the
Camp, periodically taking turns with another battalion
in serving on the west coast of Africa. One of the
stateliest sights on parade was the West India Regiment
in its picturesque Zouave uniform, no more, unfor-
tunately, to be seen, for the regiment was disbanded
some years ago.

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

I had been told that the peasant was superstitious.
One evening, waiting for a tramcar, I stood under
a large cotton tree, not the famous "Tom Cringle's
Tree" on the Spanish Town Road, but another very
fine specimen close to the entrance of Up Park Camp.
Two men coming along, stopped---far from the tree-
eyed me for a moment, and then cried out "Tek care
Missis, Duppy get you ! " Nothing would have induced
them to come any nearer, for they were quite convinced
that cotton trees were haunted.

Little by little, as time went on, the people and their
ways became less of a sealed book to me, for both in
Port Royal and in Kingston I was privileged to visit
many homes in connection with Church and Sunday
School work. And one evening a week I went to a
men's club in Kingston with the Deaconess Home
Sister who afterwards lost her life when the Lusitania
was torpedoed. Somebody had given Sister ---- a
few discarded instruments, so we formed a small band.
A man who had been a musician in the W.I.R. band
showed us the positions of the slide in a trombone
which would produce the sounds of the scale, and I
happened to know the fingering of an E flat clarinet.
One man could play the euphonium a little, the drums
and cymbals were easily managed. No one under-
stood a cornet, but a man achieved the scale on that
by blowing and fingering until he got the pitch of the
notes I struck on the piano. When the men could
go up and down the scale fluently, I played airs
on the piano with one hand, and they quickly
picked up the tune. Then "parts" were tried,
and by the time the club was due to close for the
summer, the band was able to play " God save

JAMAICA

the King" and "Onward Christian Soldiers" very
creditably.

Of the Deaconess Home in Hanover Street I
have many happy memories. So often through-
out the year I stayed there, taking part in its
various activities. Christmas was a particularly
companionable time, Deaconesses and teachers from
other branches in the island---Richmond, Linstead,
Brown's Town---arriving to share the joys of the
season.

The Christmas Tree for very poor children was (and
still is) an event perennially anticipated. When the
afternoon came, it was quite a business admitting
the rightful "ticket holders" as youthful spectators
crowded around the gates hoping to slip in unnoticed.
The weather was the equivalent of a very hot day
in England, and after races and games in the grounds
---"Jane and Louisa will you come home" and
" There's a brown girl in the ring " were repeated
times out of number---the children lined up for sugar-
water, buns and shave' ice. At sunset they trooped
into the lighted hall and sat round the tree, welcom-
ing Santa Claus with shouts and clapping, and singing
to him after he had given them prizes, parcels of
clothing and toys.

On my return to England I was asked more than
once, "Are there any Christians in Jamaica?
The question seemed strange because Jamaica had been
a Christian country for years, and some of the churches
contributed towards Missions in Africa. What always
impressed me was the friendly manner in which the
pastors of the different denominations helped and
supported each other in their respective undertakings,

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

working together for the good of the whole community
on every possible occasion.

. . . . . .

When the time for my second overseas tour came
round I sailed once more to the west. Port Royal
looked, and was, just the same, and the school inside
the fort was as peaceful as ever. On the launch, a
boatman who remembered me gave me news of the
townsfolk and told me about the comings and
goings of army people during the years I had been
away. There had been the usual changes each
Trooping Season, the pumping trolley and the small
train still ran along the shore, but the donkey was gone
---dead and buried at sea off Plum Point Lighthouse.
No other animal took his place.

Kingston had continued to improve and was growing
into a fine city. A sign of the times was the number
of new garages that had arisen, the automobile having
definitely come into its own. Trams were still well
patronised and one store "The Bee Hive" had put
chairs in the doorway for the use of shoppers, or passers-
by waiting for a vehicle. I enjoyed one of those
chairs every afternoon, waiting for the "Avenue"
car to take me home after crossing from Port Royal.
My home this time was with friends, in a house towards
the eastern end of the harbour beyond the Yacht Club.
From the upstair verandah encircling the house,
there were beautiful views of the mountains and of the
harbour, and by going into a "look-out" and using a
telescope, we could espy ships miles away at sea
and judge the time of their arrival in Kingston.

Changes had taken place in military arrangements,
a line regiment being stationed partly in Up Park

JAMAICA

Camp and partly in Newcastle. There had always
been a schoolmistress in Up Park Camp and now one
was appointed permanently to the hills. Consequently
my school remained open throughout the year as did
the one in Up Park Camp (except for the holidays),
and instead of everyone in Port Royal going to New-
castle from May to October, people went up in turn
so many at a time, staying for a limited recreational
period.

As my school duties no longer obliged me to go to
the hill station, I was able, in my spare time, to lend
a hand with the Girl Guides and Brownies in Kingston,
and later, with the Wolf Cub Packs. Young Jamaicans
were just as enthusiastic about Scouting and Guiding
as other boys and girls, and equally ready for all kinds
of adventure.

There were---the result of years of effort by churches,
private persons and the Government---educational
facilities of a very high order in the island. Schools---free elementary, private, boarding, technical and
secondary---offered education to all classes from the
poorest upwards; at Government centres men and
women teachers were trained for the elementary
schools; colleges were established; Cambridge Local,
and University of London examinations were held
annually ; valuable scholarships were given yearly
by the Government, enabling winners to go to
an English University, and there was (is) a Rhodes
Scholar to Oxford every year.

Recent pioneer work by representatives of the
Y.M.C.A. and, later, of the Y.W.C.A. led to the for-
mation of lively branches of those institutions in King-
ston, which were welcomed as affording a chance of

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

self-development and service for others by all who
wished to become members.

My last two summers in. Jamaica I was invited to
attend, as Sports Officer, a holiday camp for Secondary
School girls. On the first occasion we lived in a college
in St. Andrew and the next year in one in Kingston.
The camps were a new feature in those days, and a
new kind of fellowship was fostered among the girls
coming from schools in different parts of the island.
Delightful daily programmes were followed and
carefully planned meals were provided by the House
Mother. In imagination I can still see the shadow
play enacted one evening, in which a visitor to the
dentist had the wrong tooth extracted; and go back
to the hours after dark when tales of " Annancy " and
"Tacoma" were told by a daughter of Jamaica, who,
well versed in the folklore of her country, thrilled her
listeners with 'Nancy' stories, until they could hardly
sleep for thinking about that crafty old spider !

Once more I turn to my album. Beneath a water
colour sketch of hills and sea are these words ;

"May pleasing memories oft remind you
Of the isle you leave behind you."

They do.

E G Y P T

EMPIRE DAY IN CAIRO

GEZIRA, colourful island of the Nile, is the yearly
rendezvous for the British Community in Cairo, which
is always ready to show its loyalty to King and Country.

On the afternoon of the 24th May, crowded trams,
buses, lorries and cars drive to the Gezira Sporting
Club from all directions. Being the summer season
and generally a very hot day, people are lightly clad.
In addition to the military and business folk who live
temporarily in Egypt, there are Maltese, Cypriots,
naturalised Britishers from other climes, and the
Italian, Greek, French, German, Armenian, Syrian
and other foreign wives (foreign no longer) of English-
men.

The arrival of the High Commissioner, representing
His Majesty the King, is announced by the Anthem
and the unfurling of the Union Jack. Maybe, no one
realises the thrill of beholding that flag as does the
Britisher away from Home. Accustomed daily to
the sight of flags of many nations in Cairo, least of a11
displayed the Union Jack, every heart rejoices to
see its own emblem waving on high.

Children are assembled in hundreds. It is essentially
their day. Scouts, Cubs, Guides, and Brownies
stand proudly erect while the High Commissioner
makes a tour of their lines. Then, followed by masses

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

of school children and even tiny toddlers, they walk
past the flag of the Empire.

Various sports take place, and Scouts give boxing
and other displays. Sometimes an Egyptian conjurer
(galla-galla man) performs extraordinary tricks near
the paddock, while, on high, an expert R.A.F. pilot
stunts and swoops in the clearest yet most dazzling
of atmospheres.

"Tea-time" is uncommonly welcome, for throats
are parched. On the grand-stands, individual tea-
boxes are quickly given to everybody,---boxes con-
taining rolls, cakes and a cup---and waiters pass to and
fro with huge teapots.

Displays continue after tea, and prizes are dis-
tributed. A microphone and loud speakers prove
most useful all the afternoon. Lost hats, bags or
babies are immediately advertised and restored to
their owners. The man in charge of the microphone
causes much amusement at times, especially when he
orders certain people off the race course, by accurately
describing their personal appearance!

A short impressive speech by the High Commissioner
concludes the programme. Again the National
Anthem is heard and the flag is lowered.

Day is done. A beauteous sunset adorns the western
sky and blazons in the beyond the well-loved Home.
land of the British Empire.

A WELFARE CENTRE IN BULAC

In a poor quarter of Cairo there was a house where
Egyptian women could go on Monday and Thursday
mornings to learn something about child welfare.
All were welcome and everything was free.

EGYPT

The first half of a large room was covered with
rush matting. Baby after baby was carried in sitting
astride its mother's shoulder, and holding on to her
head with its hands. As the mothers squatted down,
they lowered their infants, and soon the floor was
crowded with women, bundles of clothes, and babies
drinking orange juice.

After a time a welfare worker would hang up a poster
and speaking in Arabic tell about the evils caused by the
flies which settle on rubbish heaps, food, and babies'
faces. While she was so occupied, it was interesting
to watch her audience. Some of the women had on
silver anklets, to keep the bad spirits from crawling
up their legs. One woman had a cloth bag charm
over her ear, with verses from the Koran sewn in it.
A blue bead charm tied to her hair, and dangling over
her eye, caused a child to squint . . . but the mother
would not take it off ! A strange contrast to the shabby
clothing was the amount of good jewellery worn. In
a country where a man may suddenly divorce his
wife by speaking three times in front of a witness, the
woman wisely wears all she possesses, so that When
leaving his house immediately, she will not be quite
destitute. The women's veils were off, and the black
marking round their eyes looked peculiar. Many
faces were intelligent, and expressions changed as the
lecture proceeded. Eagerly, amazedly, they ab-
sorbed what was being said. Some of the babies
fell asleep, and some were breast fed in order to keep
them quiet. Their garments were quaint and cum-
bersome. Later on the mothers were told about the
suitability of dress, and, sometimes, the very poorest
received gifts of clothing.

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

When the brief talk was over the scene changed.
In turn, so many mothers and babies went to the other
side of a curtained partition. There, in one corner, a
nurse inspected each baby, and pronounced it fit
(or otherwise) to be bathed. On the floor were small
baths, and voluntary lady workers sat on stools in
front of them. Each mother walked to the opposite
side of the bath, squatted on the ground, and undressed
her baby. From then onwards a great din was heard.
The small folk cried, laughed, shouted and splashed
all the time. Eyes, nostrils and ears were carefully
cleaned by the workers, who showed exactly what was
to be done. Some of the mothers helped with the bath-
ing in a way that proved they were benefiting from
their instruction.

Quickly passing to and fro, emptying and refilling
the baths, was a small Egyptian girl. She had given
herself this task because she heard in the Sunday
School that people who love one another help one
another !

After drying, each baby was put into the scale and
his (or her) weight recorded on an individual chart.
The mother anxiously hoped that the necessary amount
had been gained. She dressed the baby, and they
returned to the other side of the partition, where the
erstwhile lecturer (a Lady Lloyd gold medallist)
prepared nourishment. One noted patent food was a
great favourite. There was once a small girl who
gave much trouble in the bath. Her mother was
surprised to find the behaviour improve when she was
told decidedly "No---for naughty girls."

A period of " sunning " completed the programme.
("Sunning" cannot always be accomplished in

EGYPT

Egypt, but its importance whenever possible is
emphasized.)

What they learn at the welfare, mothers are bidden
to carry out at home. During the week they are
visited by the nurse, to be given encouragement.

And the homes ? Often they are dark airless places
with damp floors. The fight against ignorance is a
hard one, and superstition is a difficult thing to change.
Not all mothers do as they are shown; some are
stupid and cannot break from old habits. Many,
however, do respond in a wonderful way. And so
grateful are the mothers who find their children
thriving, that as one baby leaves the welfare, his
place is more than likely bespoken for a shortly ex-
pected brother or sister!

A WALK THROUGH AN ARAB VILLAGE

Strangers coming !

An Englishman and three ladies, followed by a
dancing crowd of Arab toddlers, startled the native
womenfolk almost to panic. Some, squatting in
groups, hastily covered their heads; some fled for
safety within doors; old women gazed placidly, and
younger ones peeped from hiding-places, revealing
features of smiling beauty.

El Arab is a village where once stood the ancient
town of Heliopolis. Just before entering it, one
passes the oldest obelisk in Egypt, erected more than
four thousand years ago. (Cleopatra's Needle used
to be in this district.)

From the outside, the village seems to be a mass of
deserted mud huts, but, inside, it is very much alive.

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

A big tree marks the entrance. Even before we
reached it we were welcomed by children shouting
in Arabic ; " Here comes the white man ! " On the
ground by the roadside, sitting behind dozens of
well-worn sandals, the old shoemaker was enjoying a
rest. He took no notice of us, but more children
joined our party.

Turning to the left, we came to the open-air butcher's
market where a whole sheep hung from an iron tripod.
Meat is sliced off to suit each customer.

The homes of the Arabs are on either side of the
street, and are plain mud huts of different sizes. The
walls are made of baked mud bricks and are sometimes
white or pink-washed. The top opening is beamed
across with planks of wood or date-palm trunks, and
bundles of maize or cotton trash form the roof. In
the summer, exposed to the scorching sun for many
months, the trash easily catches alight. Many village
fires are caused in this way.

Between some of the huts there are open spaces in
which the people gather when they are not working.
They squat on the ground and while away the time
in company with each other. As we were passing
one such courtyard an enterprising woman (not
young) jumped up and brought a goose to us to be
admired. Her little son was cuddling a puppy.

The children with us now numbered about fifty,
and we had to move on. In a narrow part of the street
a boy pressed the head of a goat against the wall to
let us pass. Near him was a woman hidden
under a load of bersim (clover), which she was carrying
home on her head for the animals.

The next sight we looked at casually, to avoid giving

EGYPT

offence to anyone. Seated on mats outside a hut
were a number of men, eating quietly. A funeral
party was in progress.

Farther along the road the local smithy was
recognised by its supply of donkey shoes. Most villagers
possess a donkey and this is where he comes to be shod.

A house close by had an exceptionally large and
well-carved door. A large door is a necessity some-
times, because it has to admit the family gamoose
(sort of cow).

The winding street narrowed more than ever after
this, and the next moments were rather embarrassing.
A small boy was walking towards us with a fat baby in
his arms. One end of a cord was tied to his finger and
the other end was round the neck of a goat heavy
with milk. The boy frequently lifted the baby and
kissed it, thereby jerking the cord and nearly
strangling the goat. Suddenly, at our rear, two men
came galloping on donkeys. The children screamed
and ran, and the men charged right through, ahead
and away. One donkey's load was a wooden crate
filled with the prettiest of tiny rabbits. Such con-
fusion ! Luckily, no one was hurt, but we lost the boy,
the baby, and the goat.

Soon we were at the end of the street . . . and of the
village. The last sight was the mortuary, a long
hut at the side of a canal. Outside, three men were
standing near a stone table. When anyone dies, the
body is brought here to be washed. The corpse is
laid on the slab and water is pumped up and sprayed
over it. Funeral boxes, which are communal, were
near the door. In due course, and after the necessary
preparation, the body is carried to the cemetery in

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

one of the boxes, and buried. The box returns to the
mortuary for future use.

Reaching the border, some of the children still
capered around, but most of them turned and dis-
appeared into the village. One little girl was busy
making flat mud cakes at the side of the road. Some
were lying singly and a pile stood ready to go to the
baker's oven !

As we walked homewards through the surrounding
emerald fields, we found much to wonder about
concerning the lives and conditions of our neighbouring
fellow creatures.

CHRISTMAS EVE IN CAIRO

Christmas Eve in Cairo is full of wonderment, sur-
prises and merriment. Snow sparkling in shop windows,
fir trees, holly, and a snappy temperature of sixty-six
degrees Fahrenheit (after broiling summer) makes the
atmosphere a realistic one.

World famous hotels, with excellent menus,
traditional customs and revelries, attract many guests
from the wealthy classes. Pelote Basque matches draw
large crowds to see unusually good games. Gaily
decorated cafes invite merrymakers for dancing and
varied entertainments where worries are forgotten in
joyful amusement. Stay-at-homes can listen in to radio
from all the European stations as well as to local
broadcasts.

In the streets traffic is noisy and ceaseless. Crowds
of people bustle to and fro laughing and talking
excitedly. The numerous shops which have open
fronts are thronged with clamouring customers, and

EGYPT

pedestrians must use the road if they wish to pass by.

At the show windows of the large French magasins
crowds are denser than elsewhere. The front line
is securely held by dozens of youthful Arabs who are
lost in astonishment at the extraordinary antics of
modern mechanical toys. Inside the magasins, last-
minute shoppers look among the grand exhibits in
order to find suitable gifts for the morrow.

As a contrast to the commotion in the main streets,
some of the side turnings are almost deserted. Close
beside a foodstall on which are rissoles, greens, and
bread, a fellah sleeps on the ground, surrounded by his
tin wares. Two men with arms full of flowers, apples
and parcels, walk quickly, trying to make up for lost
time, and a few English soldiers discover the quiet road
on their way to a cinema.

Sounds, musical and unmusical, always abundantly
present in Cairo, excel on Christmas Eve. Orchestras
in closed and open cafes play with great gusto; bells
ring out their joyous peals ; majestic harmonies
resound from gramophones long before the shop is
reached. Musical trios glide between human farms as
best they are able, musician number one carrying a huge
beflagged organ on his back, musician number two
walking behind turning the handle and shaking a
tambourine, musician number three holding a lantern
and collecting money. But the two men beating drums
while a third blows bagpipes, form a combination
which produces the outstanding fortissimo.

Livestock is very lively on Christmas Eve as a visit
to the market proves. In one crate nine turkeys
gobble and, fight ; in another, scores of chickens peck
and flutter while a cock crows on the top. Ducks

REMINISCENCES OF A QUEEN'S ARMY SCHOOLMISTRESS

quack at you, but the timid rabbits and blinking
pigeons have a scared look. A visitor once watched
a man selecting his Christmas turkey. He walked
from crate to crate, prodding the birds with his finger.
Then he took one out, squeezed it, held it aloft, jerked
its wings, and returned it to the crate. It squawked
terrifically, but he did not buy it.

Birds are usually bought alive, but there are hundreds
of prepared ones also. The tiny hearts, kidneys,
livers, wings, heads, feet and fatty gizzards taken from
trussed birds are piled separately in dishes and placed
on counters for sale. (Moslems have their own
festivals at stated periods, but tit-bits are always
useful to the poor peasants whatever their creed or
calling. Gizzards and heads sell quickly.)

The butcher's department is well stocked with
heads of sheep, rows of white tongues, pigs' trotters,
baths full of liver, dishes of brains, and hanging
joints. Near by is an alley where men haggle noisily
over the buying of a whole sheep. When a bargain
is completed, a man throws

John Bottle's Genealogy Transcripts