“When my enemy is dead then he is but a soul thrown into the boundless space of infinity, & he is no longer my enemy”

We have followed the story of Sydney Spencer from timid young man scared by the roughness of the army, but driven to join up; through his finally ariving at the front in 1918, to an experience with shell shock in August. Sadly, he would not survive the war. This is the last full letter written by Sydney to his beloved sister Florence; a couple of field postcards followed, before his death in action less than two months before the end of the war. Here he describes his current bivouac, and spares a thought for the enemy. His story epitomises the tragedy of the war, and his spirit shines through the years between us.

Sept 15th 1918
7th Norfolks
My Dearest Florence

My pillow is my haversack containing iron rations, my bedding, borrowed Burberrys eyc. (My kit – all of it – is still wandering about between here & Cox & Co’s London!) Now for the door which is the chef d’oeuvre! It is about 2 ½ feet square i.e. the opening of it! The door is a lid of a sugar box which just fits it! Hence when I go to bed, I lie down on the ground & pull myself into the bivouac by my hands. When I go out, I have to go feet first, & back out probably looking about as dignified in the action as does a dog over whose head some wretched boy has tied a paper bag! Dear old Dillon [his captain] chuckles with delight when he sees me getting in & out. My batman is about as big as I am [Sydney was rather small] & he & I are about the only two who can fit inside! Mind you I believe that he & Bodger (Dillon’s batman) made the entrance small on purpose, a covert pulling of my leg. Nevertheless it is so ‘cumfy’ [sic] & warm & dry I love the little spot. Its dimensions are 7 feet length, 4 feet breadth. Height 2 ½ to 3 feet high. Voila ma cherie. Vous avez une phantasie vraisemblable de ma maisonette qui doit vous donner a rire? [This rather bad piece of French translates as “there you are, my darling. You have a vision resembling my little house which will make you laugh”.] …

Two nights ago German aeroplanes (note I say German, I hate ‘Hun’, ‘boche’ etc, it is petty!) came over on bombing intent. A low moon sickly behind a cloud hung (it could not do much else by the way!) in the sky! Planes over. Lights out! The usual boredom. Then about 14 search lights crisscrossed in the sky. Hallo, they have got one in the ray. I had my strong field glasses & there sure enough in the focus of about a dozen searchlights I could see him. He glowed against the deep blue green of the sky, like those lovely flies of May which have transparent emerald green wings. The usual rat-a-tan of machine guns & the muffled boom of shells bursting round him followed. Then high above him appeared a speck of light like a star which winked & glowed & winked again. Machine gun fire stopped. This was one of our men after him. A moment of waiting, a dull spark of light like a shooting star (a tracer bullet) sped by the enemy plane, another one, a momentary pause then a sheet of flame curved gracefully to earth followed by a brilliant stream of coloured lights – some mystic comet from a Miltonian chaos & dark night it looked – & the soul of an enemy passed into the infinite. Over lonely wooden crosses in shell holes one sees in German characters a name & above it the one word ‘Ruhe’ [rest]. I felt that for him. Through all this I cannot help preserving the thought that when my enemy is dead then he is but a soul thrown into the boundless space of infinity, & he is no longer my enemy. Another enemy plane came, another fight took place & he sped to earth at a sickly pace, his signal rockets all colours bursting out behind him in reckless profusion. I suppose he crashed to earth too somewhere, but he did not set on fire.

This afternoon I was in my nothings & a very smart sergeant came up to me & said, “Are you Sydney Spencer”? Well I thought “Yes I am Sydney Spencer as it happens but anyway what the – is it to do with you”, & then “My word, it is Frank Godfrey!” My dear, I was so overwhelmed at meeting someone from Cookham, that I nearly fell on his neck in front of the whole company – all with their nothings on – & wept. I had not seen him since Aug 1914. Thus does anyone from home stir one!

Percy. How is he? I hoped he would be held in bed for months to prevent his coming out soon….

Leave. Think, Florence, I have been out here 6 months & possibly before Christmas I may get leave! And then a rug in front of a warm fire, your sweet selves to charm me to laziness and – oh well – let’s wait till it comes off. I might get impatient if I wrote more on that score. …

Cigarettes. By the way, you said in one of your letters that you had sent Dillon 500 cigarettes. I think from a business point of view you should know that the parcel contained 200. He did not tell me for a long time, but when he did, I thought you ought to know in case Coln Lunn [the merchant] made a mistake & only packed 200, charging you with 500.

The men were delighted with the share they got of them. Dillon, dear old chap, was almost pathetically grateful….

My kit & cheque book are wandering about somewhere in France or England & have been doing so for the last about 40 days, & at present I sit twiddling my thumbs & waiting! When I came out of hospital, lo! I had no hat, no belt, no change of linen, no nothing except for a pair of Tommy’s slacks & a tunic! I managed to go to Le Havre where I spent fabulous sums on making myself look like an officer, having managed to borrow a cheque, which I changed at Cox & Co’s…

By the way, darling, you may send that kit for which I asked although probably by the time I get it all my other kit will come tumbling back & then I shall be once more told I possess too much.

All love to you my sweet sister & to John, of whose approbation – told me through your letters – I am more proud than I can say

Your always affectionate Brer Sydney

Letter from Sydney Spencer of Cookham (D/EZ177/8/3/79-82)

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Splendid courage and untiring energy throughout the heavy fighting

Two brothers were reported killed.

Roll of Honour.
R.I.P.

Almighty and everlasting God, unto whom no prayer is ever made without hope of thy compassion: we remember before thee our brethren who have laid down their lives in the cause wherein their King and country sent them. Grant that they, who have readily obeyed the call of those to whom thou hast given authority on earth, may be accounted worthy of a place among thy faithful servants in the kingdom of heaven; and give both to them and to us forgiveness for all our sins and an ever increasing understanding of thy will; for his sake who loved us and gave himself for us, thy Son our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

The following names must be added to the Roll of Honour:-

Loughton, Frederick George.
Private, Grenadier Guards, aged 33. He was the second son of Mr. William Loughton of Wargrave. He was a Piggott Scholar and educated at Wargrave. Before the war he was a gardener at Ouseleys, where he had been five years. He volunteered but was not accepted as fit for service. In September 1917, he was called up and sent to France after four weeks training. He was reported Missing in November 1917, and in June 1918, his name was recorded among the killed. He married in August 1917, and his wife survives him.

Loughton, Joseph Burton. Private, 1st Battalion Grenadier Guards, killed in action March 29th, 1918, aged 27. He was the third son of Mr. William Loughton. He was educated at Piggott School, Wargrave. Before the war he was a gardener and had been in the same situation for six years. He volunteered in February, 1915. He was sent to France in November, 1915, and with the exception of three short periods of leave he remained there until his death. He was killed instantly by a shell. His Captain wrote: –

“he did his duty as a soldier and a man and behaved with splendid courage and untiring energy throughout the heavy fighting. His death is a great loss to us all”.


Wargrave parish magazine, September 1918 (D/P145/28A/31)

‘Two of my great pals have been killed. Oh well, ‘C’est la guerre’, that is all one has time to think of these days’

Sydney Spencer was on his way back to Front after his shell shock experience.

Sept 4th 1918

My Dearest Florence

Am getting up to the Battalion by degrees …

Had great fun helping to build the mess here which was shelled & splinted & fallen to pieces. We patched it up (it is a hut) & put sacking on the walls, found tables & chairs. I went off last night to an old German trench & found two small tables & chairs & some felt. After dinner I went out in the dark to fetch in one table, stepped into a trench & fell forward on to the edge of the table firmly “grasping” the said table with my left eye. The table caught hold of some of my eyebrow as a sort of souvenir I suppose & at present my eye looks comically as though I have had a fierce fight.

Very few of our officers have been killed I hear, two however of my great pals have been killed. Oh well, ‘C’est la guerre’, that is all one has time to think of these days. I have a strong conviction that I shall be in England soon!

All love to you my sweet sister & to John

from your always affectionate
Brer
Sydney

Letter from Sydney Spencer (D/EZ177/8/3/74)

Intercessions for Reading men

Notes from the Vicar

Intercessions List
: Private A.H. Gray, R.A.F.

Departed: Gunner Ernest H. Relf, Lieut, Howard M. Cook, Private Heard, Lce-Corpl. Cornelius Smith, R.E.

Missing: Private A. Bartlett.

Prisoner: Lieut. S. Jardine.

Wounded
: Lieut. Taylor.

Reading St Giles parish magazine, September 1918 (D/P96/28A/35)

“Our children will inherit a war eviller still”

John Maxwell Image’s latest letter to his old friend W F Smith saw hypocrisy among those advocating the growing of vegetables, while he and Florence heard that both Percy and Sydney had been wounded.

29 Barton Road
1 Sept. ‘18
My very dear ancient

We went to the Botanical Garden the other day, and found the great lawn stripped of grass, and from end to end now green with potatoes – that of course, one expected – but I boiled with wrath when great beds, which had been carefully set out with scientifically labelled specimens are now filled with kitchen vegetables – e.g. faded yellow beans rattling in their pods – for not a single one of them, either here or in other beds, had been picked. Woe unto you, S. and P., hypocrites – it is all shabby humbug. At least these might have been brought to utility. But for the publicity to myself, I would fain bring this scandal under the eye of the Local Food Controller, and give a dressing down to the paid Curator…

You object to RC “mummeries” and genuflexions which teach the men at the front to forget the inside of a church. What do you think of this, which I heard the other day from the Medical Officer of an Army Hospital at Cherryhinton? It had happened to the RC Padre only the day previously. A poor Anzac soldier was dying of his wounds, and in very low heart. The RC, who liked the man, was endeavouring to comfort him with the assurance that God is a Merciful God and will pardon the sinner who repents. “Ah, Sir”, said the dying man, “that is not my trouble. I know Him to be merciful: it’s the other chap I’m afraid of.” (The word used wasn’t “chap” but “b—“.)

To me it seems that our best, and only, chance, is for America to crush the High Command and Junkers while she is still hot on the business. If we cool down, the Hun, with our own Pacifists and Defeatists, will be too clever for us – and our children will inherit a war eviller still. It is horrible the slaughter and loss among the families known to us here. Not one seems to have escaped, wounds at least.

Florence has two brothers, Lieutenants in the Norfolks and the Civil Service Rifles respectively. When the push began, we had such a joyous letter from Percy at breakfast, and that same afternoon, as I was sitting in my study, a rap came at the door, and Ann’s voice: “Mistress has had a telegram. Mr Percy is wounded.” Very smart the WO was – “regret to inform you that … admitted 8 General Hospital Rouen August 9th. Gunshot wound left wrist and scalp severe.” Admitted Aug. 9: and news to us at Cambridge the very same day.
Then Sydney, the Norfolks, after fighting Thursday, Friday and Saturday – a shell landed exactly where he stood – with 6 of his men – only 1 of the 7 not killed or wounded.

You would imagine Florrie to be miserable. On the contrary, she is in brighter spirits than she had ever shewn during the English Advance. She feels that they are safe, for a short time – no anxiety: and I heard her giving joy, two days ago, to her Cook Ruth, who has just heard news of her brother being wounded and in hospital and therefore safe (poor Ann’s brother was killed).

We have had such charming letters from Colonels and Generals etc, re both boys, each of whom is a favourite in his Regiment. Sydney (whom his Colonel describes as always working “at Concert pitch”) will, I trust, soon be well enough to return. Poor Percy – they fear he will lose the use of his left hand.

Re the Greben. Admiral Troubridge (so I heard) had her nicely encircled, when suddenly came an Admiralty wire, ordering him to let her alone. He was recalled to England to explain his action – and produced this very telegram. They identified the room in the Admiralty from whence it came: but professed inability to identify the sender. Credit Judaeus Apella – Traitors in high places – who will never be dislodged. It is our own people we have to fear.

Kind love from us both to you both.

Ever yours
Bild

Letter from John Maxwell Image, Cambridge don, to W F Smith (D/EX801/2)

The War has claimed the supreme sacrifice

Many Newbury families were affected by the war.

The War has claimed the supreme sacrifice from Gunner Webb, who had been a long time in hospital, and with whose widow much sympathy is felt. Also J W C Gough has been killed in action, and Albert Marshall has, it is believed, died from wounds while a prisoner of war; both of them also left a young wife and little child behind them, and we offer to them and to their respective families our sincerest sympathy.

Mrs Burgess has presented for use at the High Altar a very handsome pair of brass vases in memory of her son, Lieut. N G Burgess. We had long wanted some vases of this kind, and they are a fitting memorial of one who was an old choir boy, and a brave and skilful sailor.

About 25 of the Church Lads’ Brigade are now in Camp, with Capt. Pyke, near Stafford, and are engaged in the useful work of harvesting.

Newbury parish magazine, September 1918 (D/P89/28A/13)

“There are some days when my arm is scarcely endurable””

Percy Spencer was recovering from his wound.

Aug 29 [1918]

My dear WF

Very many thanks for the lavender bags. The Night Nurse specially appreciates your remembering her as you have not seen her. My adjutant’s wife came to see me 2 days ago and brought her little girl. I begged the enclosed photos from her.

The surgeon is quite satisfied with my wrist & I can see for myself it begins to look healthier. Changes in the weather are my worst enemy and there are some days – as for instance yesterday – when my arm is scarcely endurable, and letter writing is difficult, so you must forgive me if sometimes I do not write.

…I’ve always meant to ask you – did you see that a fellow was killed at Heacham the other week by a low flying plane – “accidental death” I expect was the verdict.

…The padre discussed my religious outlook before he left and promised to have a battle royal for the benefit of my soul upon his return, merrily running through a list of the souls he had vanquished in this very ward. However I don’t think we shall get very far, as I shall first require his Christian qualifications before I allow him to operate. If he passes the test I’m thinking [last page missing]

Part of letter from Percy Spencer (D/EZ177/7/7/83-84)

“The memory of the music of those lives which will ever be ringing in our hearts”

St Nicolas’ Church in Newbury had a novel idea for a war memorial.

THE CHURCH BELLS

Considerable difficulty has been experienced of late in keeping a full band of ringers together. The War Office has from time to time stretched forth a long arm and carried off members to help ring the Kaiser’s knell. Consequently there are very few left of the band of two years ago, but we are trying to keep it up to full strength…
Incidentally the Curfew is being rung again after some months of silence, and the clock once more informs us of the time of day with no uncertain tongue. DORA does not frown on these little efforts now as much as she used…

The tower contains a fine peal of bells, and the chiming apparatus at present is only what is known as a “ting-tang”, which is scarcely worthy of the Church in particular or Newbury in general. Would it not be possible to raise a fund after the War to put in a proper apparatus for “Westminster” or “Dick Whittington” chimes as a memorial of those from Newbury who have fallen in the War? Would it not be a fitting memorial of those who have given their lives for their Country, the memory of the music of those lives which will ever be ringing in our hearts? The cost, we understand, would be something like £100, which should not be very hard to obtain if everyone contributed a little.

Newbury St Nicholas parish magazine, August 1918(D/P89/28A/13)

“We fellows out here feel no end bucked up to know we are not forgotten in our native place”

Soldiers were grateful for reminders of home.

While we are full of hope and thankfulness for the splendid counter attacks of the allies between the Aisne and the Marne, we deeply regret to record several casualties to Ascot men. Arthur Warwick, who was previously reported missing, was killed in action on Sept. 20th 1917, and news has also been received of the death of Walter Barton. We shall be sure to remember these men and their relatives in our prayers and trust that good news may soon be received from those who are missing.

The Sailors and Soldiers Committee have received letters from F.G. Barton, F. Deverall, J. Berridge, T. Dickens, W.P. Siggins, C. Berridge, C. Parsons, expressing their thanks for the message of good wishes and the photograph of All Saints’ Church. One of the above writes

“Very many thanks for the photograph of Ascot church, also for the good wishes. We fellows out here feel no end bucked up to know we are not forgotten in our native places, and it helps us along to know that we are being prayed for each week. Speaking for myself, I am sure that whenever I look at the photo, my thoughts will fly back to many a pleasant memory. It happens to be Sunday today and I can just picture to myself the scene that is taking place.”

Ascot section of Winkfield and Warfield Magazine, August 1918 (D/P 151/28A/10/7)

Efficiency and gallantry

A Burghfield doctor was commended for his contributions.

Honours and promotions

2nd Lieut. F Wheeler (King’s Liverpool Regiment), before being taken prisoner (see last month’s magazine) won 1st Prize Bayonet Fighting (Officers) in the First Army Corps; Sergeant E Cooke (Royal West Surrey Regiment) to be Sergeant Instructor, April 1918.

Casualties

2nd Lieut. T Warner (RAF), flying accident, Salisbury Plain; Private Stretcher-bearer Albert Painter (Royal Berks Regiment), missing since 21st March, now reported died. Company Sergeant Major Albert Manners (17th Lancers) died 10th July in hospital (gastric complaint). Sergeant Manners served through the South African War, and through the present war. Private T Searies (Royal Berks Regiment), wounded (doing well).

Discharge

Private Frank J Cooke (Worcester Regiment), 24th July (heart).

Lt-Col. Anderson

Lt-Col. H S Anderson, RAMC, who is the brother of Mr W C F Anderson of Hermit’s Hill, and who is himself on the Burghfield Electoral Register, was in the New Year’s list of honours, and received the CMG. His name also appeared in the Gazette of February 8th among those who had been “brought to the notice of the Secretary of State for War by the Army Council, for very valuable services rendered in connection with the war, up to 31st December 1917”.

HRH the Duke of Connaught, on his visit to the Citadel, Cairo, invested him with the Order at the Hospital which is under his charge. Among such services may particularly be mentioned those in connection with the “Britannic”. Col. Anderson was in command of all the medical staff and hospital arrangement of the huge vessel during several voyages out and home, with marked efficiency, and was on board when she was torpedoed and sunk off the coast of Greece. For his gallantry and conduct on this occasion he received especial thanks and mention.

Burghfield parish magazine, August 1918 (D/EX725/4)

“One pitch-dark night, about half-past twelve, a shell dropped in the entrance of the dug-out, smashing it up and setting fire to its contents”

Noncombatant workers behind the lines were also at terrible risk.

Trinity Hut

It is now pretty well known by members of the Church and congregation that our Trinity Y.M.C.A. Hut at La Clytte is no more. It was completely destroyed during the fighting in Flanders towards the end of March, and the young Y.M.C.A. Worker, Mr. L. Hutchinson, who took charge there soon after I left, was himself severely wounded, and is now in hospital at Chelsea. I called on him there recently, and learned from him some particulars which must not be published, and some others that will be of interest to all members and friends of Trinity.

The first accident that happened to the Hut was the bursting of a big shell a few yards away, which riddled the little cabin known as Hotel de la Paix, where I used to sleep, and wrecked some 40 feet of the main hut on that side. This was quickly patched up, and the work was continued until the military authorities decided that it was necessary to close the Hut. Then our workers obtained the use of a large dug-out in the vicinity holding about a dozen at a time, and carried on the canteen work there, sleeping in a smaller dug-out nearby. Finally one pitch-dark night, about half-past twelve, a shell dropped in the entrance of the smaller dug-out, smashing it up, setting fire to its contents, and badly wounding my friend Mr. Hutchinson just above the knee.
His colleagues, one of whom was slightly hurt, succeeded with some difficulty in extricating him from the wreckage, but it was more than an hour before an ambulance and medical aid was forthcoming. It was found necessary to amputate the injured lag. I am glad to say that my friend is now making excellent progress towards recovery.

Since the general facts became known to us, I have been asked by a good many of our friends, “What are we going to do about it?” and the desire has been expressed from many quarters first that we should do something practical to show our sympathy with this young worker who held the fort so faithfully to the very last in our hut, and our appreciation of all that he did as to that extent our representative; and in the second place that we should endeavour in some form or other to replace the Hut erected as a memorial to those of our boys who have made the supreme sacrifice during the war.

To rebuild the Hut as it was would of course cost a great deal more than the original £500. Nor is the Y.M.C.A. putting up so many buildings of that type in the battle area. A less expensive type of Hut, of which a number are now being set up in France, costs £300, and even this would be a great deal to ask of our people as things are at present.

Many who might fully sympathise with the object may be so placed that other pressing claims made it impossible for them to take part in any such effort as this, and I do not intend to put them in the position of having to say so. I shall not therefore be making any immediate public appeal from the pulpit, nor any personal appeal to individual members of the Church congregation. But on the other hand, I know that many of our members are not only able and willing, but eager to do something in this direction. I am therefore making it known in this way, with the consent of the Deacons, that I shall be very glad to give further information to any who ask for it, and to forward any gifts that may be entrusted to me for this purpose. At the time of writing I have already gifts and promises amounting to £85. If it should not prove possible to for us to find enough for a Hut, it may still be within our reach to provide a marquee in which the same type of work could be carried on. The more we can raise, the more can be done. But I do hope and believe that before very long we may have the satisfaction of knowing that somewhere at the Front some bit of work is again being done by the Trinity, in the Master’s Name, for those brave men who are facing such hardships and dangers on our account. P.N.H.

Trinity Congregational Magazine, August 1918 (D/EX1237/1)

“The wretched German private soldier had no idea that the Americans had landed in France”

Newbury people were optimistic that the tide had finally turned, thanks to our allies.

THE WAR

The latest German offensive has been seriously interfered with by a magnificent counter-attack by the French, who are reported (July 19th) to have taken prisoners 18,000 of the enemy and to have captured 100 guns.

The Americans also have had their part in this victory, and it appears that the wretched German private soldier had no idea that the Americans had landed in France, at all events in any considerable numbers, until they found them upon them.

This victory is most welcome and hopeful, and we trust that the tide is now turning.

There are still several of our young men who are missing, and of whom their friends have had no tidings. They ought, both soldiers and friends, to have our sympathy and prayers.

ROLL OF HONOUR

Sergt Stanley Nelson Gordon Giddings, Royal Berks Regt, died of wounds April 7th, 1918, aged 23.

Pte Ernest Frances [sic] Rivers, 2nd Batt. Royal Berks Regt, killed in action in France March 31st, 1918 (Easter Day).

RIP.

Newbury St Nicholas parish magazine, August 1918(D/P89/28A/13)

“I loved my men & they followed me wonderfully & I longed to remain with them, but I was for the time being the led & not the leader”

Sensitive Sydney Spencer had found the experience of hard fighting had led to shell shock.

August 19th 1918
73rd General Hospital
BEF France

My Darling Sister

Just this line or two to say that I am much much better. Thank goodness the effects I dreaded – sleepless nights & ugly dreams – have passed away quickly like a mist & although I don’t like to look back upon one or two incidents which I witnessed in the push of Aug 8th, 9th & 10th in which I took part, a merciful providence has given me a spirit with which to fight those weary thoughts which at first crowded my mind & spoiled my chances of getting well. As it is, I am quite normal & perky again & my happy old self except that I want to get back to the B[attalio]n & see how things are.

The history of my affair roughly is this. We were on a high plateau taken the day before. We were moved – I think unwisely – slightly forward (after having dug ourselves in & camouflaged ourselves too!) to dig in, in broad daylight. There was no place to dig in, so the co[mpan]y got into shell holes scattered here & there. A German aeroplane saw us, & then the shelling started. 7 of us were in one hole. Myself & a c[or]p[ora]l & 5 others. At last a shell landed right in the hole.

A man not a yard away from me was killed instantly being horribly smashed up. 5 were wounded. One wasn’t at all. I had a wee wee splinter cut my left arm. I held up for a time, then the effects of 8 days work with about 4 hours sleep, little food, & existing on a cup of whiskey every 5 or 6 hours told their tale, & I broke up, & was sent down.

Bitterly disappointed I was, I loved my men & they followed me wonderfully & I longed to remain with them, but I was for the time being the led & not the leader.

All love to you my darling Sister

Your always affect
Sydney

Letter from Sydney Spencer (D/EZ177/8/3/70)

Lining the chancel in memory of a popular athlete

A popular young man, one of the frst to join up in Cranbourne, was remembered.

The news of the death of Lieut. Eric Curtis, 8th Seaforth Highlanders, has been received with much regret in Cranbourne. He was well known here, and much liked by all of us. A keen supporter of the Windsor Forest Athletic Club, he was popular with all the members. He joined the colours in 1914, was severely wounded in 1916, and killed on the field of battle on July 29th.

Our deep sympathy goes out to his wide, and father and mother. A memorial service was held in the church on Sunday afternoon, August 18th. The Boy Scouts attended the service, lining the chancel in front of the choir stalls, and the Vicar said a few words of appreciation of Lieut. Curtis’s character.

Cranbourne section of Winkfield and Warfield Magazine, September 1918 (D/P 151/28A/10/8)

Convoy attacked

The Harwich Force was a Navy squadron tasked with protecting shipping.

17 August 1918

Heard 2 destroyers Harwich base sunk. 26 lives lost. Convoying ships from Holland.

Diary of Florence Vansittart Neale of Bisham Abbey (D/EX73/3/17/8)