e terrible Battle of the
Rivers. I am enclosing a letter I have just received from him, because
I think it very characteristic. Besides, if you remember him, I am sure
that it will interest you. I don't know where it is from--they are not
allowed to tell. It came, as army letters do, without any stamp--the
carriage is free--with the round red stamp of the censor, a crown in
the middle, and the words "Passed by the Censor," and the number
printed around it. Here it is:

My dearest M-

October 30, 1914

Last night I heard your account of your experiences between
September 1 and 9, and it made me boil anew with disappointment
that my attempts to reach Huiry on September 4 were frustrated. I
was disappointed enough at the time, but then my regret was
tempered by the thought that you were probably safe in Paris, and I
should only find an empty house at La Creste. Now that I know that I
should have found you--you!!!--it makes me wild, even after this
interval of time, to have missed a sight of you. Now let me tell you
how it came about that you nearly received a visit from me.

I left England August 17, with the 48th Heavy Battery (3d division).
We landed at Rouen, and went by train, via Amiens, to Houtmont, a
few kilometres west of Mauberge. There we detrained one morning at
two o'clock, marched through Malplaquet into Belgium, and came in
contact with the enemy at once.

The story of the English retreat must be familiar to you by now. It was
a wonderful experience. I am glad to have gone through it, though I
am not anxious to undergo such a time again. We crossed the Marne
at Meaux, on September 3, marching due east to Signy-Signets.
Funnily enough it was not until I had actually crossed the Marne that I
suddenly realized that I was in your vicinity. Our route, unfortunately,
led right away from you, and I could not ask to get away while we
were actually on the march, and possibly going many miles in another
direction. The following day, however--the 4th--we retraced our steps
somewhat, and halted to bivouac a short distance west of a village
named La Haute Maison--roughly about six miles from you. I
immediately asked permission to ride over to Huiry. The Major, with
much regret, declined to let me leave, and, since we received orders
to march again an hour later, he was right. We marched all that night.
I have marked out our road with arrows on the little map enclosed.
We reached a place called Fontenay about 8.30