HIS MAJESTY’S ADDRESS.
The speech was delivered in the presence of about five hundred people, British and French, who listened to it as though held by a spell, hanging on every word; but its lofty sentiment, its spirit of veneration, its ringing pathos, will have their echo in British hearts the world over. The feeling uppermost in the minds of those who heard it was that it would bring solace and comfort to English homes still grieving after the lapse of years, that the fathers, mothers, and wives of the fallen soldiers would have the supreme satisfaction of knowing that their sons and husbands lying in the rich brown earth of France were not forgotten by the King and country for whom they had given their lives. That France, too, does not forget and will ever remember, whatever passing differences there may be in conceptions as to the just peace settlement yet to be reached, was shown by the touching tribute of General de Castelnau, who not only spoke in his capacity of French representative of the Franco-british War Graves Committee, but also in the name of the French army. And France was proud to be associated with to-day’s moving ceremony. In the days of anxiety, of bickerings over political theses, her great heart has always beat in unison with England’s in honouring the memory of the dead soldiers, and she could not have sent a more fitting representative to reply to King George’s heart-stirring speech. For during the war, in which he played so conspicuous and brilliant a part, he was beloved of the poilu, and he knew what it was to mourn.
It seemed to me that there were quavers in his voice and at times moisture in his eyes when he spoke of the British and French sacrifices. The solemn occasion must have awakened sad memories within him – memories of the three sons he himself lost in the holocaust.
Who in France can forget the Spartan demeanour of the hero of the Grand Couronne when the news of the loss of one of his beloved sons reached him at a time when all was black for the Allied cause. At such a moment the intense patriotism of the soldier seeking to vanquish a ruthless foe seemed to usurp the sorrow of the father. “I have not time to weep,” he murmured, mastering his grief; “my country has need of my services.”