LAUGHING TORSO 
CHAPTER VII WAR
THERE was a feeling of agitation and unrest in the
atmosphere. On the second of August War was
declared on Germany.
There was pandemonium.
No one had any papers. I had no passport and
Edgar had no papers at all except a mysterious
birth certificate with a German name that I had
not heard before. We had two weeks in which to
get papers and register ourselves. My beautiful
Russian friend went away and said that Edgar and
I could live in the studio, which we did. 
Nobody had any money. Paper money was refused
Pierre Carrier Belleuse (French 1851-1933)
Une rue a Montmartre,
c. 1880
everywhere.
Only gold and silver were accepted.
On the third of August the mob stormed the
a German firm* They
killed several Germans and broke all the milk-shops.
Everyone said that we would starve.
Wassilicff (above)
started dinners at her studio at one franc-fifty, with
one Caporal Bleu 
cigarette and one glass of wine
thrown in. We all went every evening and Modig-
liani too. A Swiss painter did the cooking. Oddly
enough, a few days before the declaration of War,
all the Germans vanished from the Qjiartcr. The
last days of the time given for registry of ourselves
were nearing their end. I implored Edgar to go to
the police, but he refused; he appeared to think that
he was superior to the police force. An American
woman sculptor gave me sittings, and so I was able
to earn enough money to live on, 
People said that the War could not possibly last
more than two months and that we need not
worry.
I had gone to the British Consul, who had given
me a paper with which I could identify myself and
get back to England. The time for registration had
expired and one day two policemen appeared at my
studio and took Edgar and me off to the police
station. I was locked up for the afternoon and
asked what I knew about him. He produced the
birth certificate with the German name on it 5 and
as they knew that he had known many Germans
as we all did, they thought that he was a spy.
They asked him to hand over his gun. He pro
duced two dirty handkerchiefs and one sou. They
let me out later on, but threw him into the Prefec
ture which was filled with all kinds of people who
could not produce papers. They slept on straw, all
together.
here (I am posing as part of the nina world There were millionaires with gold watches,
and every kind of person,) and there they waited till
something happened. I was so unhappy that my
American sculptress asked me to stay with her and
her husband, and fed me, and they were very kind as
I had no idea how long Edgar would be kept in
prison, or what would happen afterwards. I col
lected enough money to get my fare to England. This
was an appalling prospect as it meant returning
home and I really began to think that my life was
at an end. The future seemed completely without
hope of any kind.
I took the train to
Dieppe. When I got there I
found that there were no boats going to England.
I had about twenty francs. A porter took me to a
(1876-1919)
Dieppe
c.1906
rather grand-looking hotel down a side street leading
to the sea.
I took the cheapest and smallest room
that I could find, A whole girls' school was there.
They had come from a tour of Switzerland and were
in the same position as I was.
I could not afford to
eat at the hotel, so I bought myself bread and cheese
and ate it on the seashore. I went to the old church,
which has a group of golden statues with Jesus
Christ in the Manger, surrounded by the Wise Men
and the Virgin Mary. I bought a candle and lit it
for Edgar. I also said a prayer, and afterwards
wondered if it would be registered in Heaven as I
was not a Roman Catholic.
For three days there were no boats and I was be
ginning to feel very hungry. On the third day a
boat sailed. I had a ticket as far as Newhaven*
During the daytime I sat on the quays. I had some
coloured chalks with me and did quite a lot of draw
ings, I just managed to pay the hotel bill and had
two pennies left. By this time nothing seemed to
matter. The boat did not go to Newhaven but to
Folkestone. When I got to Folkestone I went to the
station-master and said, " All I have is twopence
and I want to get to London. " As a matter of fact
many people were in the same position.
He was
very kind, and after I had given the name and
address of my parents he put me into a first-class
carriage. The railway company sent the bill in and
were kind enough to charge only the third-class
fare. I was extremely hungry, having had nothing
to eat for twenty- four hours. When I got to Victoria
I was able to take the Underground home, as two-
pence was just the fare. I was almost in rags when
I arrived and the family were not any more pleased foujita
to see me than I was to see them. 
Edgar wrote me postcards now and then. One I
have never been able to understand. It was sent
from the Prefecture of Police.
As he always talked
in parables I presumed it meant that he loved me.
If I had decided that it did not I might have had the
sense to stay in England and join the W.A.A.C.'s . above foujita
and have helped or hindered the Great War. 
Basil was in London at the time and one day he
introduced me to Augustus John. I never knew
until then that he came from Tenby. We got on
quite well and, of course, found that we knew every
one there. Gaudier-Brzeska arch in london 
I went to see henri Gaudier-Brzeska . He was very
pleased to see me. We bought a bag of plums and
walked to Richmond Park.
We were both very
gloomy and sat on the grass amongst the bracken.
Henri knew the antelopes quite well and some of
the
Foundry was established in 1986 by Chris Nash and Gabrielle Brisbane, 
on the site of the original studio of Henri Gaudier-Brzeska, the 19th
Century French sculptor.
them came up to be patted.
He did many drawings
there. We sat silently and ate the plums. Henri
said, " I shall have to go to France and fight and if
I go I know quite well that I shall never come back
and I felt that he never would either. We walked
silently back to his workshop
under the arch and
had
tea and I went home.
This was the last time that I saw him as, when I
came back from France, he had already left.
Everyone was very depressed at this time and no
one knew what was going to happen. Basil was very
kind to me and asked me what I proposed to do about the future.
I said that I could not imagine,
but that if Edgar got out of gaol, I should probably
return to Paris and bring him back.
One day I got a letter from him to say that he was
released and allowed to stay in Paris for the duration
of hostilities. Basil gave me five pounds and said,
that if I really loved him I had better go back and
join him. Everyone said I was mad but I did not
mind, and took a train to Folkestone. We arrived
at Boulogne. There were two other English people
on the train. The train took thirty hours to get to
Paris. There was nothing to eat, and if the French
peasants had not been at each station with food
for the soldiers, and were kind enough to give us
some bread and cheese, we would have had nothing.
I was in a carriage with five French postmen who
were going to Paris to join up. They had some bottles
of wine and cider. I gave them two farthings to
bring them luck. 
We arrived at Arras and had to
get out as we heard that the Germans were some
where in the neighbourhood. The station was filled
with soldiers who had come from a battle. They
were all bandaged up and covered with blood. I sat
down with them and rather felt that to be taken a
prisoner by the Germans would be the simplest way
of getting out of it all. The train then went on and
we got to another station.
A motor-car appeared with three French officers
in it. They said to the engine-driver, " Go on at
once, the Germans are three kilometres away.'* So
we went on. The other two English people were
old ladies, both married to Frenchmen. I spotted
the sale bourgeois at once by their faces and took
a dislike to them. We got out at another station and
sat on the platform. One sat on either side of me.
They talked about religion, and the efficacy of
prayer. I said I didn't think so highly of it and they
said I was an atheist and left me. A train came in
carrying more soldiers who had come from another
battle. I found them more sympathetic. The train
went on and we got to Paris.
I met Edgar at the Rotonde. He seemed pleased
to see me. I had one hundred francs in five franc
pieces, which I had tied up in a stocking. I took a
room in the hotel where I had first stayed in Paris.
Every afternoon the Germans came in taubes and
dropped bombs. We all thought this very exciting
and would lean out of the window of the hotel to
watch the bombs dropping. The bombs did not kill
people, but the shells that the French shot at them
did. I was watching the fun one afternoon and
something whizzed past my head. It was a bullet,
and went through the hotel window downstairs.
We found it on the floor with the end of it bent. As
I only had a hundred francs Edgar said that I had
better come and live in
La Ruche, near the Porte de
Versailles, his mysterious residence. I moved in.
La Ruche was a large garden and in the middle was
a circular building filled with studios. The studios
were triangular and it was like a cake cut in pieces.
His studio was in the garden and living there was
a Russian admiral's daughter. There was a gallery
which one had to climb a ladder to reach. Several
rungs were missing from it. The Russian admiral's
daughter drank wine during the daytime and
methylated spirits all night at my expense. She
also stole my only night-dress, which was a calico
relic and had originally belonged to my Grand
mother. In the mornings we sent her to the soup
kitchen to buy some stew, which we lived on. In
the studio opposite lived an artist's model who
brought us lobsters.
She had been to the Bal des
Qjaatz Arts and had brought a souvenir home. It
was a model of the guillotine and we sat and admired
it. There were no newspapers in Paris and every
day we heard the German guns getting nearer and
nearer,
Edgar found a large spider in the garden and did
drawings of it every morning.
Wassilief had her dinner parties every evening
and her place was filled. A tall Russian from the
Volga played the lute and sang to us and we tried
to be as cheerful as possible.
Modigliani was living in the Rue St, Gothard and
Edgar and I went to see him. He had a large studio
which was very untidy
and round the wall there
were gouache drawings of caryatids* They were
very beautiful and he said,
" Choose one for your
self." The bed was unmade and had a copy of
Les Liaisons Dangereuses and
Les Chants de Maldoror
upon it. Modigliani said that this book was the one
that had ruined or made his life. Attached to the
end of the bed was an enormous spider-web and in
the middle an enormous spider* He explained that
he could not make the bed as he had grown very
much attached to the spider and was afraid of
disturbing it. This was the last time that I saw him
as, soon afterwards, he went to Nice.
I was still sitting for the American sculptress and
so we had enough money to live on.
The German guns were getting nearer and nearer
and the Government had gone to Bordeaux. 
Out
side the Gare Montparnasse were long queues of
people going to Bordeaux with all their belongings.
We went to see Brancusi, the sculptor, every after
noon. He lived in the Rue Montparnasse. He had
two workshops and lived in a little room. He was
very like a saint and played a guitar and sang
Rumanian songs. He talked to us about life and
cheered us up. Basil was in Paris again. He could
not join the Army as he had a bad knee. He asked
me what I was going to do. I said that I had better
go back to England. I should, of course, have gone
to Nice where many artists went and lived very foujita below
cheaply. 
One day Edgar and I went to the Cimetiere
Montparnasse. We used to go there sometimes and
sit under the trees and read. It was very quiet.below foujita
We would bring a bottle of cheap wine with us.
One afternoon Edgar said, " How much does it
cost to get married in England? " and I said, cc I
think about seven-and-sixpence," and he said, " Let
us get married! " I said that I didn't mind if I did.
We had no money to get to England however, and
I had been in Paris about six weeks. Basil lent or
rather gave me some money and we took a train to
Le Havre. Edgar had no papers except the birth
certificate and when I got to Le Havre I had to see
the British Consul. I told him that this was my
fiance and I was taking him to England to marry
him and he passed us through. I took him home
to my parents, who were not at all pleased that I
was going to marry a foreigner, especially as he was
completely penniless and knew no English. After
three weeks we got married. My Father paid the
wedding licence. Everyone was very gloomy, in
cluding myself. We took two attics in Camden
Town.
The rent was seven-and-sixpence a week. 
We had very little furniture. I took Edgar to the
Omega Workshops and Mr. Fry gave us both some
work.
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