A Noble Woman

Edith Louisa Cavell was born in 1866 at the country rectory of Swardeston, near Norwich, of which parish her father, the Rev. Frederick Cavell, was rector for forty years. In that pleasant sunny house the little girl passed her early days in uneventful happiness, for Swardeston had few interests apart from the obscurities of its own rural retirement.

The rector, who was a kindly man at heart, but firm to the point of sternness where his duty was concerned, ruled his home with evangelical strictness. His daughter Edith was a thoughtful child; and her unfailing consideration for others and her concern for their welfare caused her to be beloved by everybody. But the child's innate gentleness was tinged with a sense of duty remarkable in one of her years, which characteristic was the undoubted outcome of her father's precept and example.

Edith Cavell's education was as thorough as her parents could contrive; and, apart from mere scholarship, her outlook was widened by being sent to a school at Brussels.

When the Rev. Frederick Cavell died, the family removed from Swardeston to Norwich, and Edith decided to adopt the profession of nursing the sick poor. To that end on September 3, 1895, she entered the London Hospital as a probationer, and remained in that great institution for nearly five years. From the first, by her unselfish devotion to duty she endeared herself to her colleagues and patients alike. Part of the time she was staff nurse in the 'Mellish' Ward; and when the authorities sent her to Maidstone at the great outbreak of typhoid in that town, she did excellent work.

Later, Miss Cavell was appointed to the post of night superintendent at St. Pancras Infirmary, where she remained for three years; then she migrated to Shoreditch Infirmary to act as assistant superintendent. As evidence of her more than ordinarily wide experience, it should be stated that for a time she worked at Fountain Hospital, Lower Tooting, under the Metropolitan Asylums Board; and for nine months she acted temporarily as matron of the Ashton New Road District Home, Manchester.

In all these varied spheres of activity Nurse Cavell proved herself not only a capable nurse, but she became a clever, painstaking teacher, able to illustrate her eloquent lectures by means of her own facile and useful diagrams. Many nurses acknowledge their indebtedness to her lucid teaching, and are proud to claim their one-time association with one whose devotion and energy made her an ornament of a noble profession.

The sense of duty, which in the child was indicated so plainly, in after years developed into almost a religion. Every one with whom Miss Cavell came in contact speedily understood that she placed duty before either friendship or personal comfort. Her hospital training had taught her the value of discipline, and she would never tolerate inefficiency, or any tendency towards slackness, in her subordinates. As a surgical nurse her skill was remarkable; but her undoubted forte was the power of organization, which is almost rare compared to mere cleverness in the technical details of nursing.

Her absorption in her calling and her outwardly stern and reserved demeanour sometimes caused Nurse Cavell to be misunderstood; but those who were fortunate enough to serve under her quickly came to learn to admire her, equally as a nurse and a kind woman. Her expressive eyes were an index to her overflowing sympathy; and her fellow nurses found themselves impelled to take their troubles and difficulties to her, sure of a patient hearing and tactful and sympathetic advice.

In 1906 Miss Cavell was offered and accepted the position of matron of a surgical and medical home in Brussels, which had been founded by Monsieur de Page. This enlightened and enthusiastic Belgian doctor was impressed by the need of a better knowledge of hygiene and aseptic methods, of which through no fault of their own the nursing sisters in Belgium were generally ignorant.

Nurse Cavell's new post was one that called for the utmost discretion, for she was an Englishwoman and a Protestant, engaging in work which hitherto was practically a monopoly of the Roman Catholic religious sisterhood. But even inborn prejudice, and in some cases positive enmity, could not long hold out against Miss Cavell's professional skill, backed up by her charm of manner; and in quite a short time she was as popular with the Belgian staff and patients as had always proved to be the case in her English experience.

The establishment of a training school for nurses was a bold experiment, for Belgian women of good birth and education were accustomed to look upon earning their own living as a loss of caste.

The English nurse was fully aware of the difficulties with which she had to contend, and resolutely set herself to combat them. Soon she had five pupils, who commenced their work on recognized lines. Their uniform consisted of blue cotton dresses, high white aprons with white linen sleeves to cover the forearm, which was bare beneath, 'Sister Dora' caps without strings, and white collars. 'The contrast,' wrote Miss Cavell to the Nursing Mirror, 'the probationers present to the nuns in their heavy stuff robes, and the lay nurses in their grimy apparel, is the contrast of the unhygienic past with the enlightened present. These Belgian probationers in three years' time will look back on the first days of trial with wonder.'

By April, 1908, the probationers had increased to thirteen; and by 1912 the number was thirty-two. Some of the members of the staff were English nurses who had worked in the London Hospital or the Shoreditch Infirmary. They not only assisted in training the probationers, but also attended the private patients in the Nursing Home which was attached to the school.

Miss Cavell's school met with the warm approval of the Queen of the Belgians, who was quick to realize the value of trained nursing in Brussels. When Queen Elizabeth broke her arm a few years ago she did not hesitate to have it attended to by the nurses at the Home. Her Majesty's action was an exceedingly valuable tribute to the institution and the Englishwoman at its head. It gave public opinion a lead that caused the School and Home to be viewed favourably, where, perhaps, hitherto the new departure had been deprecated, if only because it was considered to be an unnecessary rival of the nuns and lay nurses, who worked under religious vows.

The Queen came to hold a very sincere regard for Miss Cavell, and it is certain that the feeling was reciprocated. Little did the royal patient and the English nurse then imagine that within but a few short years they would figure together in adversity, in their respective spheres, as two of the most pathetic heroines in modern history.

Quiet and unassuming, yet determined and courageous, Nurse Cavell continued her good work, which was bound to have a marked effect on the future of the Belgian nursing profession. She herself declared that 'the spread of light and knowledge is bound to follow in years to come. The nurses will not only teach, as none others have the opportunity of doing, the laws of health and the prevention and healing of disease; they will show their countrywomen that education and position do not constitute a bar to an independent life; they are rather a good and solid foundation on which to build a career which demands the best and highest qualities that womanhood can offer.'

In acting as directress of three hospitals, Miss Cavell found full scope even for her unusual organizing capabilities. In addition to her arduous lectures throughout the day, she gave four lectures to the doctors and two to the nurses every week. She always attended at the operating-theatre herself. One of her greatest pleasures was the children's ward, decorated in blue and white after her own design; she made a special point of visiting the little inmates every evening. The better class of Belgians paid for the services of the private staff of nurses, but the call of the poor never went unheeded.

Although Miss Cavell was intensely happy in her work in Brussels, she always looked forward with positive joy to visiting her aged mother, with whom she spent every possible holiday in England. In the summer of 1914 mother and daughter were enjoying one of these affectionate reunions.

Suddenly the great war-cloud burst. Edith Cavell was in her mother's garden weeding a bed of heartsease when she heard the news. She needed no heart-searching to decide where her duty lay; and, without hesitation, she returned hotfoot to Belgium, where she had an intuition that she would be wanted.

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When Germany had disclosed her infamous designs against the neutrality of Belgium, followed by her declaration of war against France, succeeded in a few hours by the entry of Great Britain into the fray, Miss Cavell's intuition of trouble became an absolute and appalling fact, with the positive certainty that war's ghastly harvest would mean work for nurses in Brussels.

Forthwith the Berkendael Medical Institute became a Red Cross Hospital, of which Miss Cavell was directrice, with a number of English and Belgian nurses under her charge. Others of her training staff and some of the school probationers were in a board school, which had been rapidly converted into another hospital. Some of the nurses of the Training Institute were of German nationality, and these sorrowfully made a hasty departure for the Dutch frontier, carrying only hand luggage, which was all that they were allowed to take. Miss Cavell was sorry to have to send them away, but they would have been in a most invidious position if they had remained in an enemy capital towards which the German army was ruthlessly hacking its way.

Although there was every indication of the extreme danger of Belgium, none could foresee the inexpressible agony that awaited her. How utterly Miss Cavell herself failed to realize the impending doom of the heroic little nation was shown in her letter of August 12, 1914, which she addressed to the Editor of The Times:

'Sir,

'I notice that there is a big movement on for the establishment of Red Cross Hospitals in England. In the natural course of things these will get almost exclusively naval men, whereas the army wounded will have to be dealt with on the Continent, and, as far as can be seen at present, mainly at Brussels.

'Our institution, comprising a large staff of English nurses, is prepared to deal with several hundreds, and the number is being increased day by day. May I beg, on behalf of my institution, for subscriptions from the British public, which may be forwarded with mention of the special purpose, to H.B.M.'s Consul at Brussels?

'Thanking you in anticipation, I am yours obediently,

'E. Cavell,

'Directrice of the Berkendael Medical

Institute, Brussels.

'Ambulance 53,

'Rue de la Culture, 149, Bruxelles,

'August 12, 1914.'

Probably Miss Cavell learned later that the big movement in England to which she referred not only provided for our wounded soldiers from France and Belgium, but also distant Gallipoli, when that region became embroiled in the almost world-wide War.

Events moved with startling rapidity. It was on August 4 that the German troops commenced to swarm across the Belgian frontier. Liège was attacked with a fury and violence that fortresses hitherto considered practically impregnable could not withstand. Only eight days after the dispatch of her letter to The Times the heroic English nurse witnessed the entry of 20,000 Germans into Brussels.

'News came,' she wrote to the Nursing Mirror, 'that the Belgians, worn out and weary, were unable to hold back the oncoming host.... In the evening (August 20) came word that the enemy were at the gates. At midnight bugles were blowing, summoning the civic guard to lay down their arms and leave the city.... As we went to bed our only consolation was that in God's good time right and justice must prevail.'

Although Nurse Cavell was an Englishwoman, and her sympathies were claimed for the people within whose gates she had laboured for eight years, her great heart could feel compassion for the physical sufferings of the invaders, for the article continued: 'Many more troops came through. From our road we could see the long procession, and when the halt was called at midday some were too weary to eat, and slept on the pavement in the street. We were divided between pity for these poor fellows, far from their country and their people, suffering the weariness and fatigue of an arduous campaign, and hate of a cruel and vindictive foe bringing ruin and desolation to a prosperous and peaceful land.'

From that date Nurse Cavell was cut off from the outside world. Enveloped in the fog of war, nothing was heard of her for eight months, although she had arranged to act as special correspondent to the Nursing Mirror. Not until the month of April was another and last communication received. It was dated March 29, 1915, but was not delivered in London until seventeen days later, when it came to hand in a dilapidated condition and without any outward sign that it had undergone inspection by the Censor. The article cannot be quoted at full length, but a few paragraphs of it vividly depict the conditions of life under the iron heel of a relentless conqueror:

'From the day of the occupation till now we have been cut off from the world outside. Newspapers were first censored, then suppressed, and are now printed under German auspices; all coming from abroad were for a time forbidden, and now none are allowed from England....

'The once busy and bustling streets are very quiet and silent; so are the people who were so gay and communicative in the summer. No one speaks to his neighbour in the tram, for he may be a spy. Besides, what news is there to tell, and who has the heart to gossip?

'I am but a looker-on after all, for it is not my country whose soil is desecrated and whose sacred places are laid waste. I can only feel the deep and tender pity of the friend within the gates, and observe with sympathy and admiration the high courage and self-control of a people enduring a long and terrible agony.'

Edith Cavell had anticipated that there would be work for her in Brussels. She found it in abundance, first in nursing wounded Belgians, succeeded by an influx of suffering Germans, for the new authorities allowed her to continue her work; and in due course numbers of English and French soldiers came under her ministering care. And be it noted that to be wounded was a sure passport to the great heart of the English nurse. Even the injured invaders were tended with impartial care, in accordance with the great tenet of the Red Cross nursing creed, that suffering humanity shall know no distinctions, whether friend or foe, their necessities calling for the same single-minded devotion.

Miss Bertha Bennet Burleigh relates that she spent a pleasant half-hour with Miss Cavell, whom she met by chance shortly after the German occupation. In conversation the lady journalist learned that the nurses in the various nursing institutions had been requested to give an undertaking that they would also act as guards of the wounded. Miss Cavell said, 'We are prepared to do all we can to help them to recover from their wounds, but to be their jailers, never!' A German general smote the table with his clenched fist when the nurse gave her emphatic reply, but he could not cow her indomitable will. 'He looked,' Sister Edith afterwards told one of her colleagues, 'as if he would like to shoot me dead.' From that day onwards the German authorities commenced to deal harshly with the British Red Cross nurses who were in their power.

There is evidence available to prove that many Germans had occasion to bless the good offices of Nurse Cavell; and from all who passed through her hands she won the most profound esteem, which in itself was a cause of offence to the German authorities, who knew that they themselves were just as cordially detested.

But Edith Cavell's greatest offence lay in the fact that she was an Englishwoman, heroic daughter of the race that no specious promise or bribe could tempt from the path of honour; that could not view its treaty signature as a 'scrap of paper,' whose 'contemptible little army' had played a dramatic part in hurling back the Germans when Paris was literally in their mailed grasp; and that had succeeded in locking the once weak line of the Allies, which now forbade approach to the Channel ports of France from which a royal bully had proposed to attack the shores of England.

Baron von Bissing had been appointed Governor-General of Belgium, and forthwith he had commenced to terrorize the inhabitants. Brussels was plastered with proclamations calculated to make life scarcely worth living. One of them in particular forbade any person to assist subjects of countries at war with Germany to leave Belgium.

It is not quite certain whether Baron von Bissing ever came in personal contact with Miss Cavell, but it is positive that she became suspect to some of his emissaries, who promptly set about weaving a web for her undoing. It did not take long for clever German spies to ascertain that the English nurse had supplied British, French, and Belgian refugees with food, clothing, and money, and had connived, if not actually assisted, in their escape across the frontier into Holland.

No purpose would be served by attempting to deny that there was in existence a Band of Mercy whose object it was to smuggle fugitives out of Belgium. The members of this secret organization included Prince Reginald and Princess Marie de Croy of Belignies, the Comtesse de Belleville, a French abbé, Mademoiselle Thulier, M. Philippe Bancq, a Belgian architect, and others. It may be stated that the Princess is partly of English extraction, and her arrest caused the death of her English grandmother as a result of shock and subsequent illness. The Comtesse de Belleville belongs to the French nobility through her father, while her mother, the Vicomtesse d'Hendecourt, is Belgian. She spent much of her time in Belgium, devoting herself largely to charitable work, and when war broke out she came to the aid of her distressed compatriots.

Nurse Cavell undoubtedly participated in these simple acts of humanity which the Germans construed into 'crimes.' She permitted her hospital to be used in the chain of rest-houses by means of which fugitives escaped detection and capture, as they were passed from point to point towards their golden enfranchisement across the Dutch frontier. Admittedly Miss Cavell did wrong in setting the German military law at defiance, but it was the policy of German 'frightfulness' that was her justification. The enemy army violated their own treaty obligations, and had plundered, burnt, slaughtered, and ravished a helpless people in a manner that had not been conceivable in this twentieth century. Edith Cavell's contact with wounded soldiers had afforded her first-hand information concerning the brutal atrocities of which the invaders were guilty, and doubtless gave rise to a passionate desire to enable any wounded British compatriot, Belgian or French friend, to escape from the common peril.

For nearly a whole year Nurse Cavell continued her work, one supreme and unbroken test of the heroic spirit with which she was imbued. It was wonderful that her God-given befriending of refugees should have escaped detection so long; but at length the German Administration in Belgium verified some of the escapes of men from their iron thrall, and Edith Cavell was wrenched from her hospital by soldiers and put in prison.

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On the evening of August 5 Nurse Cavell was engaged in binding lint on the wound of one of the invaders, when a peremptory knock on the door resounded through the quiet hospital. Not waiting for admission, half a dozen German soldiers burst open the door with the butt-ends of their rifles and entered the ward. Without preamble the corporal in charge seized Miss Cavell roughly, and commenced to drag her away from his wounded compatriot to whom she ministered.

The Englishwoman did not quail before this uncouth representative of 'Kultur,' but with calmness and dignity demanded to know the reason of the brutal exhibition of authority. The bullying corporal's instructions evidently included nothing in the way of explanation. He considered a cuff to be the best means of meeting the situation; and forthwith he marched her through the gathering gloom to the military prison of St. Gilles.

The German authorities made no public announcement of the arrest of the English nurse or any of her alleged associates. In all probability at first they maintained secrecy in the hope of being able to incriminate other suspects, and thus make a clean sweep of an agency that had attempted to lift by the fraction of an inch the iron heel that was grinding out the life of suffering Belgium.

Three weeks elapsed before Edith Cavell's relatives in England heard of her arrest from a chance traveller who had come to England from Belgium. The news was communicated to the Foreign Office, and on August 26 Sir Edward Grey requested Mr. Page, the United States Ambassador in London, to make inquiry of the United States Minister at Brussels whether the arrest of Miss Cavell was an actual fact, and, if so, the reason assigned for it.

In the interval the German authorities were hard at work in securing evidence, not merely to justify the arrest, but to provide plausible excuse for the execution of the prisoner, which later sinister mockeries of justice proved to have been a foregone conclusion from the commencement.

It is believed that not only did German spies ransack Belgium for evidence, but some even visited Norwich to interrogate Miss Cavell's friends, to trace her movements, and, if possible, to intercept her correspondence. But even then the testimony against the prisoner aggregated but a sorry charge of presenting a great-coat to an ill-clad man, a glass of water to a thirsty pilgrim, and small coins to persons who were being hunted for their lives. There was a fear that these 'crimes' would be insufficient to secure a conviction on a capital charge. There was no time to ferret out any real damning testimony, and so the jailers of the English nurse fell back upon the method of attempting to convict her out of her own mouth.

It requires to be accentuated that Miss Cavell, apart from her profession, was a well-read woman. She knew more than a little of modern German philosophy, and had come to believe that the triumph of Prussianism would result in the collapse of Christianity. Once, when she was expressing some such view, a friend inquired whether it was prudent. 'Prudent?' she exclaimed, with reproach in her eyes. 'In times like these, when terror makes might seem right, there is a higher duty than prudence.' And as she was a woman who would not count the cost of clinging to her standards, she was little likely to hide her opinions when confronted by the enemy.

It is a prime feature of English justice that the veriest felon need not incriminate himself; nay, he is specifically warned that any statement he makes may be used as evidence against him. Practically he is reminded of the old legal axiom that a man who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client, with the consequent advisability to bridle his tongue against any unwise admission. The conception of German justice in Brussels was the converse, and the accusers of the Red Cross representative of a hated race deliberately laid snares for the extortion of the evidence they required.

The course of procedure was terribly reminiscent of the methods of the old Spanish Inquisition. True, Miss Cavell was not subjected to actual physical torture, but the mental strain was calculated to break down anything in the nature of obstinacy. With diabolical cunning she was cut off from communication with the world outside the jail as completely as if she were dead, lest any whisper of warning to guard her tongue might reach her from outside; and often she had to face interrogation by brutal and implacable enemies, who sought not to do her justice, but only to assure her condemnation.

It is a comfort to believe that Miss Cavell's keen perception and her knowledge of German unscrupulousness enabled her to realize the inevitable end that awaited her, thus saving her from carking speculation that might have unhinged her reason. With Christian fortitude she grasped the inestimable boon of resignation, fully assured that 'death is the liberator of him whom freedom cannot release, and the comforter of him whom time cannot console.'

Really the secrecy of her arrest and imprisonment and the precautions taken for her utter isolation were scarcely worth the trouble the crafty conspirators had taken, for Nurse Cavell took up a simple and heroic position that greatly simplified matters from the German standpoint. She was not an inexperienced girl, she was a noble woman of clever intellect, and had never been in doubt of the penalty she might incur by succouring compatriots and friends in distress in defiance of the German military code.

Inspired in her perilous work by the dictates of purest humanity, which has been the glory of women of all nations in all ages, she boldly avowed to her accusers that she had nothing to conceal. The last thing to have entered her mind would have been to attempt to mitigate her offence by lying; she would not even palter with disingenuousness. Not only did she admit the charges against her, but she related incidents about which her inquisitors had but the most fragmentary particulars, or even only flimsy suspicions. She did not hesitate to supply dates and details for which the spies had sought in vain.

It is impossible to tell when Miss Cavell first became aware that a considerable number of her friends were under arrest. In any case during her long incarceration in prison and the numerous interrogations she had to undergo in order to elicit the admissions to construct the case against her, she scrupulously avoided the implication of other persons. No brutality, no wheedling, no bribe, could ever have made that brave soul disloyal by word or deed to any of her associates.

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