The Rev. J. W. Adams, V.C. 7 



did, who was obliged at intervals to leave the tents to be prac- 

 tically ill, and then returned to his splendid self-imposed task. 



I once asked him how he accounted for his never being 

 attacked by this most contagious disease, the horrors of which 

 the ordinary British reader has little idea. 



He told me he attributed his escape to having been vac- 

 cinated every seven years, and that on principle he always 

 drank a glass of sherry before entering the camp, as he believed 

 it was a help in warding off the deadly nausea which is bound to 

 attack those in close touch with the bad cases. He avoided as 

 much as possible entering the tents when tired and run down, 

 as he wished to prolong his services in the hope of being some 

 comfort to the suffering when no one else could go near, and the 

 glass of sherry was his only precaution, beyond vaccination. 



The Padre once gave me an account of some of his en- 

 deavours during Christmas in the smallpox camp, to entertain 

 the patients well enough to be amused. It was very funny to 

 anyone knowing him, for he was a very dignified, refined man 

 who did not indulge in many words, and one of his efforts 

 had been to sing a comic song in character. As far as I could 

 gather from the account, the screamingly funny part consisted 

 in his utter failure, which amused his audience much more than 

 if he had succeeded brilliantly. 



Padre Adams could never be induced to speak of the day 

 when he three times over won the Victoria Cross ; but he told 

 me of a humiliating experience of his when one evening 

 burying many victims of smallpox and cholera. 



The graves were dug and ready in melancholy rows, the 

 Padre standing amongst them ready to read the — to many — 

 beautiful and comforting service. As he stepped back to allow 

 a body to be lowered he fell into the open grave behind him, 

 his book shutting up over his face as he disappeared. 



Help being at hand, he was quickly hauled up again ; he 

 emerged ruffled and dirty, feeling keenly his undignified and 

 unseemly contretemps. He quickly scrutinised the faces of the 

 firing party to see if anyone dared to laugh, being quite pre- 

 pared to be exceedingly annoyed with anyone who did so ; but 

 all stood like statues, not a muscle moved on any face ; all looked 

 straight over his head without even a twinkle of an eye. I 

 think they deserved a medal. 



