Chapter 10

Turning to the fine arts of painting and sculpture, I did not know we had any sculptors until this month, except one clever young artist who models heads in clay. But this month we have had a great deal of snow, and two men who have hitherto been resting came forward, and, like Michael Angelo on a famous occasion began to model in snow. But our designers and painters are the most numerous and active (after the musicians). They have a shed, in which art exhibitions are held periodically. Many portraits are drawn and a few painted. One artist is just completing a portrait of me in pastels. There is an endless outpouring of theatre posters, caricatures, humorous drawings, skits on the camp, etc."

Six students at Ruhleben passed the London University Matriculation examination in December, 1916. One of them took the Edinburgh papers as well later on. (_Observer_, August 26, 1917.) These are remarkable cases, for the strain of prolonged internment seems most of all to affect the power of concentrated attention.

The case of another successful student is recorded in the _Daily News_ of June 2, 1918:

The distinction--probably unique--of graduating for the degree of Doctor of Music of Oxford University while a prisoner in enemy hands has been achieved by Mr. Ernest Macmillan, a young man with Edinburgh connections. Mr. Macmillan, who is the son of a clergyman in Toronto, was studying music in Germany when the war broke out, and since then he has been interned as a civil prisoner at Ruhleben. His answer to examination papers and his "exercise" (or composition) were sent from Ruhleben to Oxford.

That such things are possible at Ruhleben is a great tribute to English spirit and endurance. We must also not forget that they would clearly be wholly impossible if the Germans were actually barbarians.

A FRIENDLY ENEMY.

When Bishop Bury during his visit in November, 1915, asked what he might be allowed to say at Ruhleben, General Friedrich replied: "Please do all you can to hearten and cheer up your fellow countrymen. Appeal to their patriotism, speak to their manhood. You and they will have no one between you. There will be no official of the camp; no one to listen to you, no one to come between yourself and them. We trust you entirely with them, and you will understand, I am sure, that we do not wish to diminish anyone's sense of nationality who is imprisoned or interned in Germany." ("My Visit to Ruhleben," p. 21.) The words, says Bishop Bury, "seemed to come straight from the heart of the speaker." Some readers will be sceptical; but at least _the words were acted on_. The Bishop spoke about the armies and the war to the men, and told them of his own experiences in the war area, "just as I should have told them to my own countrymen in this country." At his last address the British flag was run in on a cord and "God Save the King" was sung. The Bishop had no time to propose the omission of the second verse, but one is proud to know that those Englishmen, even amidst their excitement, spontaneously omitted it. The whole scene revealed what was finest on both sides. Bishop Bury told the German Staff that at the meeting "we all sang 'Send him victorious.' They smiled indulgently."

WAR TERRORISM.

A good many more things of a favourable character could be said. Unfortunately men who speak well of their German captors are accused of pro-Germanism, and they dare not speak. This is a rather terrible fact, but it is a fact. As one man said to me: "I have my living to get, and if my identity could be traced through any account I gave I should be ruined. My work has already been very materially affected, but in private conversation I shall continue to speak the truth, come what may." War prejudice indeed desires one kind of story only, and victimises those who give it what it does not want. And so all along the line suppression begets suppression of the truths most needed to heal our ills. A woman teacher writes to me: "I think I have a fairly open mind myself to recognise good deeds of the enemy; but to tell such to my pupils is another matter, and I fear would be very impolitic seeing that I depend on my school for my daily bread." And again the Editor of a provincial paper writes: "... but when one has to rely on the public for one's living one has to think twice before expressing one's views."

LAST DAYS AT RUHLEBEN.

Mr. Desmond wrote of the coming of the Revolution at Duelmen (vide p. 61), Mr. Sylvester Leon has told us something of the last days at Ruhleben (_Herald_, January 4, 1919). "The soldiers are with you," said Mr. Powell to the interned men. "For with the triumph of the Revolution, that friendliness which had existed in the days of the old regime between the interned and many an individual German soldier now became general among the military of Ruhleben; the officers had flitted, or had capitulated to the new order of things with more or less grace; Councils of soldiers and workmen ruled in the towns of the Fatherland; the era of Social Democracy was dawning upon Central Europe.... It is but fair to admit that the Ruhleben Guard acted very loyally in the performance of their duty. For when they were given the option of returning to their homes they did not avail themselves of that opportunity, but volunteered to remain at their posts until the disbandment of the camp. It is of historic interest to note that the red flag--the symbol of the triumph of the Revolution--which flew from the flag-pole in the camp, had formerly done service in the cubicle of one of the interned. It was dyed red by another of the interned, a doctor of science and a member of our little camp school, and then given to the soldiers.... The first impression gained on a visit outside the camp was the terrible seriousness of the food question. No one who has once seen can ever forget the sight of the crowds of hungry women and school children standing outside the gates of Ruhleben, literally besieging the interned as they passed out." For it was only the interned who had food to spare. The Ruhlebenites gave, they had the facts before them. And "the people of Spandau turned out in force to wish us 'Godspeed' on our departure for home; and the send-off they gave us was astonishing in its enthusiasm, arresting in its spontaneity, and touching in its obvious sincerity."

HAVELBERG.

At Havelberg the camp for civilians had a population of 4,500. Of these only 372 were British subjects, being men from British India. Mr. Dresel writes on September 17, 1916: "This camp produces an excellent impression, the arrangements being unusually hygienic and modern." [Miscel. No. 7 (1917), p. 6.]

ON BEHALF OF THE CIVILIANS.

Yet, however excellent the impression may be, an internment camp is a miserable place.[27] It is, of course, especially miserable for those whose nature is at all sensitive, and it is surely such men whom we shall need everywhere if we are to make a less brutal world. Man after man has gone into internment seeking to employ himself and to make the best of it. For months, for a year, less often for nearly two years he has succeeded. But slowly success has dwindled and turned into failure. The monotony, the sense of oppression, the physical and mental discomfort, the deadly uselessness of the life--even where to these things is not added concern for those outside--have made him incapable of fixed attention, incapable of effort, incapable of rest, alternately nervous and torpid, fearful, despairing. The "barbed wire disease" has him in its grip at last. "Another winter interned here," wrote such a one, "and I shall need a padded cell." He had a fine nature and had struggled hard. But "the people outside do not understand." Certainly, there are those who can hold out to the end. I admire and envy them. I do not think any of us could predict with certainty that we should not give way.

There is only one remedy short of stopping the war, and that is the release of all civilians. Those who wish to remain, either in Germany or here, should certainly be allowed to do so, and if the police have no case against them, and if they can support themselves, they should be set free. Others should be repatriated or sent to neutral countries. The imprisonment of civilians is against the usage of war, and it is this fact which gave force to the claim of the German Government that there should be complete release on both sides.

I append extracts from a Swiss appeal to the belligerents on behalf of the civilian prisoners. It was issued in August, 1917, and has already appeared in _Common Sense_.

A civilian is not a prisoner of war.

We gladly acknowledge that the belligerent powers have effectively lessened the sufferings of the prisoners of war with an intelligent understanding of their duty; the military authorities have listened favourably to the proposals of the Red Cross, and already the soldiers have been spared many unnecessary sufferings. Humane measures have softened the captivity of military prisoners.

In the name of Justice we now address this urgent appeal to the authorities in the belligerent countries to adopt the same attitude towards civilian prisoners.

We have in mind all civil prisoners, for these, almost without exception, are innocent victims of the war; both those who since the beginning of the war have been interned, and those others in the occupied territories who have been isolated, oppressed or imprisoned, many of them in poor health, women, children, old men, who are not allowed to join their families in a neutral land. Our deep compassion and brotherly sympathy are especially moved on behalf of non-combatants who have been carried away like herds.

We pray all belligerents without distinction to hearken to our appeal; with dread we watch the approach of another war-winter, bearing, as it must, a fresh succession of distresses, deprivations and reprisals. Therefore we cannot keep silence.... Numbers of civilian prisoners have been suffering since the beginning of the war from the depressing conditions of the concentration camps.... The civilian took no part in the war, and in most cases did not even desire it. He should not therefore be treated as a prisoner of war.

Belligerent States! We call upon you to exchange all your civilians now interned.... This exchange must naturally be effected under certain conditions to be established. Each State must bind itself not to employ the liberated civilians for war-work; just as was arranged in the case of military prisoners who have been repatriated or sent to neutral countries. With these conditions, no belligerent should refuse to liberate the civilians so unjustly imprisoned.

Honour will be theirs who act upon this appeal....

The signatories to this appeal are G. Wagniere (Editor of the _Journal de Geneve_), Dr. A. Forel (Professor at Zurich University), Ed. Secretan (National Councillor), Benjamin Vallotton, Charles Baudouin (Professor at the Institut J. J. Rousseau), Ch. Bernard, P. Seidel (Professor at the Cantonal Technical College, Zuerich), A. de Morsier, Ph. Dunant (Lawyer of Geneva), Paul Moriand (Professor of Medicine at Geneva), and MM. Blonde and Arcos.

The Swiss Red Cross has also appealed for the release of all interned civilians.

From this side the following private appeal on behalf of all prisoners has been addressed to the Red Cross at Cologne:

I feel it incumbent upon me ... to draw your attention to the acute disappointment that is being caused among the prisoners in all the camps, and almost equally among their friends outside, by the delay in repatriation. Every phase in the long series of public discussions and official negotiations, every hitch, and every hesitation, has been followed with painful anxiety by those of us who know what it means for all these thousands of victims languishing in confinement, and you may be sure, with much more intensely painful anxiety by the victims themselves, whose ears are pathetically strained to catch the feeblest echo of any rumour from the outside world that brings them the slightest hint of release. For months these poor fellows had been continually alternating between hope and despair, when the news of the Hague meeting seemed for large numbers to bring them definitely, at long last, within measurable distance of the reality. Knowing therefore as you do, equally well with us, the mental condition of these men, and the terribly demoralising effect of long internment, even under the best conditions, you will realise the deep depression into which they are now being plunged by all the inexplicable delays in carrying out the terms of the convention. From every one who comes in contact with them I gather the same impression, that unless the Gordian knot is cut and a way is quickly found out of the present impasse, the most serious results are to be apprehended, as numbers of prisoners here--and the case can be no better in other countries--are on the verge of insanity....[28]

I would put it therefore to you in all earnestness that it is your duty, as representing humanity, to bring without delay all the pressure and all the influence you possess to bear upon the authorities to consider the sufferings of the prisoners and induce them, if possible, even at the cost of some concessions, to facilitate from their side the carrying through of this scheme, in which I can assure you not merely the happiness but even the life of many men is involved.

I speak, of course, quite unofficially, and with no other motive than pure philanthropy, but I may venture to hope that my representations, though only those of a private individual, will carry more than ordinary weight, inasmuch as there is perhaps nobody whose information and experience in these matters are more real and vital, or entitle him to speak with more authority.

Nor do I stand alone, for there are many others with whom I have worked from the beginning in the same field. All these associate themselves with me in this appeal, and, like myself, with no other motive than that of simple humanity. If the time, the energy, and the money we have all spent so unstintingly to improve the prisoners' lot give us any title to be heard, we all implore you, not only for the sake of the prisoners themselves, but in the eternal interests of humanity and justice, to do, and to do quickly whatever you can in furtherance of this object. We quite understand, of course, that military interests must be considered, but it is not always possible for those in high places, with whom such decisions rest, to realise as vividly as we do all that is at stake in a question of this sort, and that is why we feel entitled to assume that your advice would not be without effect, and that being the case, we submit it becomes your solemn duty to tender it.

The sufferings of this war are indeed vast beyond all comprehension. Is not there danger that this very fact may lead us to add to that suffering without need?

"ROTTING AWAY."

In a pathetic appeal to be given work the men at one internment camp here said, "We are simply rotting away." And others say, "The people outside do not understand." Loss, heartache, privation, stagnation, friction, stupid and malicious gossip, mental and moral deterioration--"rotting away." This disintegration of personality, the gradual rotting of the man's selfhood, is perhaps, clearly envisaged, as great a horror as war can bring. It is not the result of deliberate cruelty, but simply of conditions most of which are inevitable if there is to be internment at all.

A REPORT ON KNOCKALOE.

The reports available on our own internment camps do not go back beyond March, 1916.[29] It is perhaps well to remind ourselves that even by May, 1916, there were still defects. Thus in the American Report of May 18, 1916, on Knockaloe, we read: "The huts are being put in good weather-proof condition, and are being protected against the wind and rain by felt and tarred paper."[30] As to sanitation, "There have been improvements in the sanitary arrangements since our last visit." "In the hospital in Camp IV. there is now being built a recreation room, where convalescents may sit, which will give more room for the patients; also a special sink has been provided for washing the hospital utensils, and new latrines have been installed. They seem to be at work at this hospital to improve its condition. As Camp IV. has the largest number of older men interned, this hospital has more patients than others, and seemed rather crowded at the time of our visit." "In the isolation hospital we found only one bath and one tap for all the patients who are suffering from various sorts of contagious diseases. We took this matter up with the proper authorities, who assured us that it should have their attention. The sanitary arrangements in all the hospitals might be improved, except possibly in Camp I." "There were complaints about the hospital treatment, particularly of the care of the eyes, ears and teeth, for which the interned men claimed that there was not sufficient opportunity for special treatment."

These last complaints are curiously parallel to some made at Ruhleben. [See Miscel. No. 3 (1916) pp. 3, 15, 16.]

"There was complaint that there were no shelters for the men while waiting to receive parcels, nor for outside patients visiting the doctor. This matter was taken up."

"In Camp III. a complaint was made about the difficulty of personal intercourse between the representatives of the camp and the Commandant. This had caused dissatisfaction. The men seemed to have confidence in the new Commandant, but they told us that they had difficulty in approaching him. We took this matter up with the proper authorities, and were informed that they would in future have more opportunity for personal intercourse."

The huts for sleeping accommodation "are sectional, being of the regular War Office pattern, 30 feet by 15 feet, each section holding thirty men." This gives us a floor space of 450 square feet for each thirty men. In that portion of the Ruhleben loft most adversely criticised by Mr. Gerard the roof slopes from 10 feet at the ridge to a height of 41/2 feet only at the sides. The floor space allowed, however, is 10.2 metres by 12.8 metres, giving us about 1,390 square feet for 64 men, or 651 square feet for thirty men. When all allowance is made for the lowness of the sides in the rather wide loft (it seems to be more than 30 feet wide), this worst accommodation at Ruhleben seems, as regards space available, not inferior to that at Knockaloe. Further details would be needed for a complete comparison.

The report on Knockaloe is not enthusiastic, but evidently there had been many improvements, and still more was hoped for from the new Commandant. "The new Commandant, who has only been there some ten weeks, seems to have gained the confidence and respect of the interned men. He seems to be doing all in his power to better the conditions of the camp. He finds difficulty in getting material, such as tarred paper or felt, etc., for use on the huts. He told us that he had the matter in hand, and was giving betterment of the conditions at the camp every attention.... The whole tone of the camp is much better than it was at the time of the last visit. (See report of January 8, 1916.) There were fewer complaints, and the prisoners seemed much more contented."

A BRITISH COMMANDANT.

It is unfortunate that we cannot "see" the earlier report to which we are directed. But it is good to know that the new Commandant, Col. F. N. Panzera, proved to be a Christian gentleman with real sympathy for the unfortunate men under his charge. Like many other commandants, both here and in Germany, he did, amidst the various difficulties, what he could. As he is, alas, now dead, we may perhaps quote the words he addressed to the men in his care at the Christmas of 1916. It is a strange reflection that it might have injured his position to quote this fine and simple message during his life-time. Colonel Panzera wrote:

I am sorry that the size of the camp prevents my seeing you all, which I should do if it were smaller and thus possible. It would be a mockery to wish you a "Happy Christmas," I am afraid, but I wish you as happy a one as is possible under the circumstances. I most earnestly wish you a happier New Year. May the New Year bring Peace and restore you to all dear to you. I hope that prosperity and happiness may come to you in the future, and may in time obliterate the memory of the present period of sadness.

I should like to take the opportunity of saying how much I appreciate the general good behaviour of the camps during the past year. There have been little lapses, as there must always be in a mixed community of 25,000 people, but on the whole the conduct has been extremely good, which has been a great help to those placed over you. Once more I wish you as good a Christmas as possible and a better New Year.

FOOD DIFFICULTIES.

The food question also becomes increasingly serious in the camps, as it does in prisons. I confess I feel we ought to ration ourselves very strictly before we cut down the supplies of our prisoners, criminal or otherwise. "The reduced diet," wrote Fenner Brockway of his prison experiences, "is one of semi-starvation, and every prisoner is becoming thin and physically weak." (_Labour Leader_, September 6. 1917.) Those who care to inquire of the wives of interned men will learn their side of the case as regards the effect of changed conditions in the camps. The sad feature is that the increasing rigour comes upon men already weakened, both physically and mentally, by long confinement. The original published statement of Sir Edward (now Viscount) Grey [Misc. 7 (1915), p. 23] no longer obtains. The food is, of course, very different, and may not be supplemented.

TWO KINDS OF RUMOUR AND SOME REALITY.

I have not cared to quote adverse "unofficial information and rumours," either as regards our own or other detention camps. What some adverse critics say about our own may be read in the _Woman's Dreadnought_, Vol III., p. 551. The rather terrible appeal of the Captains at Knockaloe is also printed on p. 561. It is a letter which is unwise and hysterical. I do not wonder at its hysteria, and I confess that some things in the letter hit me rather hard. But, alas, the desperation of the interned men on either side does not help towards wise judgment, and for that desperation we are all, in every country, in some measure responsible. It is best to remember instead the real sympathy that those actually in touch with prisoners do often feel. Colonel Panzera's message is clear evidence of this, and from a private letter I take the following: