THE ORGANIZATION OF THE AID SOCIETIES.
THE amount of subscriptions acknowledged daily by the National Society shows that the country has responded well, and is still responding, to the call which was made upon it. By the middle of this week the sums received had risen above £170,000, and when we add to this total the subscrip- tions paid to the French and German Societies, and the con- tributions in kind made either by business firms or private persons, we have very considerable results. Now that, at the suggestion of the Archbishop of Canterbury, collections are being made in all the churches, now that the wants of the sick and wounded are brought home to everyone of us, and meet with almost universal sympathy, it is most important that there should be no doubts as to the proper administration of the funds supplied, and as to the impartiality with which relief is distributed. Of course no one would attempt to throw any doubt on the truth of the National Society's statement that all its gifts will be divided equally between the French and the Germans. Colonel Loyd Lindsay and his associates are above all suspicion of partizanship. Still there have been reports from various correspondents of benefits intended for the French having been monopolized by the Germans, of wounded French sleeping on straw while the Germans had beds, and of the conquered being turned out of hospitals to make room for the victors. We do not know what truth there may be in these stories, or how far, if they be true, they affect the Germans alone. The hospitals about which we are informed were probably those organized by the invading army, and we may be sure that the representatives of the National Society have provided against any forcible inter- ference. Yet the impression seems to be gaining ground that the two nations are not in a position of absolute equality, and that the conquerors are gradually encroaching in many ways which at first they wholly repudiated. The charges of cruelty brought by eyewitnesses cannot be put aside by a sneer at" curious ramblers" indulging "a morbid craving for strong emotions." It may be said that the starvation of the captured army after the fall of Sedan was a mere failure of administration, and that the violence of which we hear is the work of individual soldiers. But the perfection of the Prussian administration has been held up to our admiration ever since the war began, and their soldiers have been pointedly contrasted with the savages brought up to fight for the Emperor. The treatment of French prisoners, too, may seem strange, when we remem- ber that at first the over-indulgence of those very prisoners was a common complaint among the Germans. We fear the truth must be that war has exercised its natural influence, and that the Germans, who took up arms merely to defend themselves against the Emperor, have now become selfish and aggressive, claiming for themselves the spoils of war, and leaving the conquered to its tender mercies.
It may be assumed that the operations of the National Society are undisturbed by any such change on the part of the Prussians, and that English money goes, as before, to all for whom it was destined. If we needed any direct assurance, the letters of Captain Brackenbury, Dr. Sandwith, and those associated with them, would speak for the reality of the work that is being done. Lord Overstone assures us that the funds of the Society are not being unprofitably hoarded, that hos- pitals are being supplied, surgeons and attendants are spread over the worst districts, and large payments are made daily for instruments, chemicals, and clothing. We are content to trust the zeal and discretion of the Committee, but there seems some danger of their efforts not being properly seconded. The way in which things are being done at the seat of war inspires us with misgivings as to the appropriation of the funds subscribed. If we may judge from two letters, bearing the heading of "Under the Red Cross," and appearing, one in the Daily News, and the other in the Daily Telegraph, the number of idlers and sightseers who wear that badge, and hang on 'the track of the armies, is something fabulous. We are told that "every second person one meets between Sedan and Briey has the brassard." Again, "brassards seem to be obtainable for the asking." Furnished with such a passport, people traverse the country, journeying on railways at reduced fares, gaining an admission everywhere, and picking up news, food, or whatever else they require, without expense or trouble. As far as the German Aid Societies are concerned, the Daily News' correspon- dent says distinctly that he has seen enough to satisfy him "that the great majority of the sanitary volun- teers are drones, that an appalling number of their superior officers are wasps, and that many persons who never intended doing anything for the disabled are wearing the sacred emblem for sinister purposes." The way in which the food and wine provided by the Societies went among the assistants and their friends was brought forcibly to the know- ledge of the same writer. He and a companion were furnished with "plates of steaming bouillon, piles of nice cake, bottles of old port, madeira, sherry, seltzer, and coffee," for all of which payment was refused. To salve his own conscience the correspondent in question put aside some money to be contributed to the next collection-box of the Society, but we cannot expect the same scrupulousness from the volunteer wearers of brassards. Even if this system is confined to the foreign Societies, as we hope it may be, its existence concerns many of our own countrymen. Some have preferred contributing directly to the French or German funds, with a view of expressing sympathy with either cause, or of giving help where it was most needed. It has been said that the Germans were most in want of help because they had to support large bodies of prisoners, and that the French were most in want of help because their country was ravaged. It cannot be a source of satisfaction to any who have given to France or Germany to know that tourists and perhaps spies are availing themselves of the supplies meant for the sick and wounded, that people put on the red cross in a moment of enthusiasm, and finding the work too hard for them, are fed, lodged, conveyed, and kept in idleness at the expense of the Societies ; and that while this peculation goes on without a check, the prisoners are worn out with fatigue and hunger, not tasting food sometimes for twenty- four hours ; the hospitals are ill supplied with drugs, the doctors and attendants are overdone with work. We trust that none of these charges can be made against the National Society, as it seems to be generally admitted that the distribution of brassards is not so lavish, and that more care is taken to ascer- tain the fitness of those who volunteer for hospital work. One of the main distinctions between the working of the English and the foreign Societies is that in the former the medical men have a complete control, and can, therefore, see that no efforts are wasted, that no one is making a pretence of helping. We should, however, be glad to learn that this supervision is properly exercised. Waste and disorder are contagious, and it is well to know that the workers for whom we are directly responsible, and in whose efforts we take a personal interest, set a brighter example.
The sudden and varying demands made upon the different Aid Societies are enough to explain the comparative tardiness with which some of the help has been given. A war con- ducted on a scale like the present, with weapons brought to deadly perfection, with thousands of prisoners, with head- quarters rapidly moving, with sieges going on in several places at once over a vast area of ground, creates new and unparal- leled difficulties. The Governments which engage in such a work might be expected to prepare for all contingencies, but how is a private society to have its ambulances wherever they are needed, to bring food to one place and clothes to another, to attend the wounded here and distribute bread there to a starving army of prisoners ? The scene presented to us by Sir Tollemache Sinclair of the "poor soldiers," in the church at Stenay, "pale and emaciated, and worn out with fatigue and hunger," wrings the heart, and yet all this misery is inevitable. The two armies make their preparations for battles, not for what follows after. The battle is fought, and amidst the elation of victory, or the smart of failure, the next movement is planned. The conquered must retire without being able to carry off their wounded ; the victors pass over the field, and can have no thought of the bodies that obstruct their march towards the next scene of action. If prisoners are taken, the efficiency of a fighting army cannot be sacrificed to their claims. The ghastly necessities of war impose these conditions on all who resort to it, and while personal discourtesy is to be washed out in rivers of blood, or thrones are to be propped up by territorial spoil, there can be no limit to such suffering. The greater is the honour due to those who voluntarily alle- viate the misery left behind by each glorious victory, and who supply the aid which Governments seem powerless to give.
Previous page
