Of these horrible acts the proofs stand unchallenged, and for such deeds as these the world has cast him out:  thrown him down from one of the greatest thrones in history; and left him in the place to which, white with terror, he ignominiously fled, stripped of all his power and splendour, his crowns, his crosses, and his diadems.

Idle is it for this man and his apologists to plead any extenuation or excuse.

It was his custom in the plenitude of his power to declare himself answerable for his actions only to God and himself.  Then let the judgment of God be upon him.  When we recall the awful and unnumbered horrors with which he covered Europe, I doubt whether all history can furnish a parallel to him.

By his authority helpless Belgium was invaded, treaties treacherously broken, and her people slaughtered.  By his authority her priests were murdered in cold blood and her nuns violated by his vile soldiery.  By his authority poison gases were first projected with low cunning upon brave and honourable adversaries.  By his authority hospital ships at sea were sent to the bottom.

But time and the might of free nations have, after fearful sufferings, dissipated his invincible armies, and they have shrivelled before the wrath of mankind.  The whole world rose up in its offended majesty and tore from him that shining armour of which it was his custom to boast; and, with the brand of Cain upon him, he now lies obscurely in Holland, bereft of all the trappings of his sinister power.

There were times in the past when justice would have avenged such awful crimes as lie at this man’s door with the torture of his living body and the desecration of his lifeless remains, but his conquerors disdained to debase themselves by imitating his own abominations; and they left him to afford a spectacle to posterity as the supreme example of human ignominy!

When you are old, Antony, and this greatest of all wars has become part of England’s history, you will be proud and happy to remember that your own father, at the first call for volunteers, laid down the pencil and scale of his peaceful profession, went out to fight for his country in the trenches in France, was wounded almost to death, and was saved only by the skill and devotion of one of the greatest surgeons of the day.[2] All the best blood of England, Scotland, and Ireland went marching together to defend the freedom of the world, and upon their hearts were engraven the glorious words:—­

    “Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war
    and my fingers to fight.”

May such a call never come to our beloved country again!  But if it does, Antony, I know where you will be found without need of exhortations from me.

Your loving old
G.P.

[Footnote 1:  Now in my library.—­S.C.]

[Footnote 2:  Sir Arbuthnot Lane.]

17

MY DEAR ANTONY,