Section 11

The Christmas of 1914 found England, whose landscape had hitherto been almost as peaceful and soldierless as Massachusetts, already far gone along the path of transformation into a country full of soldiers and munition makers and military supplies.  The soldiers came first, on the well-known and greatly admired British principle of “first catch your hare” and then build your kitchen.  Always before, Christmas had been a time of much gaiety and dressing up and prancing and two-stepping at the Dower House, but this year everything was too uncertain to allow of any gathering of guests.  Hugh got leave for the day after Christmas, but Teddy was tied; and Cissie and Letty went off with the small boy to take lodgings near him.  The Van der Pants had hoped to see an English Christmas at Matching’s Easy, but within three weeks of Christmas Day Mr. Van der Pant found a job that he could do in Nottingham, and carried off his family.  The two small boys cheered their hearts with paper decorations, but the Christmas Tree was condemned as too German, and it was discovered that Santa Claus had suddenly become Old Father Christmas again.  The small boys discovered that the price of lead soldiers had risen, and were unable to buy electric torches, on which they had set their hearts.  There was to have been a Christmas party at Claverings, but at the last moment Lady Homartyn had to hurry off to an orphan nephew who had been seriously wounded near Ypres, and the light of Claverings was darkened.

Soon after Christmas there were rumours of an impending descent of the Headquarters staff of the South-Eastern army upon Claverings.  Then Mr. Britling found Lady Homartyn back from France, and very indignant because after all the Headquarters were to go to Lady Wensleydale at Ladyholt.  It was, she felt, a reflection upon Claverings.  Lady Homartyn became still more indignant when presently the new armies, which were gathering now all over England like floods in a low-lying meadow, came pouring into the parishes about Claverings to the extent of a battalion and a Territorial battery.  Mr. Britling heard of their advent only a day or two before they arrived; there came a bright young officer with an orderly, billeting; he was much exercised to get, as he expressed it several times, a quart into a pint bottle.  He was greatly pleased with the barn.  He asked the size of it and did calculations.  He could “stick twenty-five men into it—­easy.”  It would go far to solve his problems.  He could manage without coming into the house at all.  It was a ripping place.  “No end.”

“But beds,” said Mr. Britling.

“Lord! they don’t want beds,” said the young officer....