1934 May
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
Mai 1 ième 1934
Ma chère Annette
J’aperçois que je me suis (?)srimis à une nouvelle corvée et qu désormais il me foudra chaque semaine composer un thême pour faire plaisir à mademoiselle. Je suis assis dans la véranda: c’est après le diner: et madame votre mère s’occupe de corriger des épreuves de la nouvelle édition du Guide de Sikkim. Il fait chaud. Le ventilateur tourne et fait des gazouillements: sur la table les pages d’un livre ouvert frénissent dans la brise. Décidement je ne veux point écrire. Demain it y’aura un orage. Depuis l’aube des nuages noirs courrent le ciel. A six heures et demi quand je me suis éveillé, il faisait si noir que je ne me suis pas levé jusqu’à sept heures. Hier j’essayai de jouer au golf: je suis allé au club de Tollygunge et j’ai frappé peutêtre deux douzaines de balles: sans succès. J’ai oublié l’art de prefer et je suis agacé. Après nous sommes allés au piscine comme d’habitude: là nous avons retrouvés quelques messieurs de notre connaissance et nous nous donnes distrait une demi heure environ à bavarder et à boire des cocktails. Les cocktails, que je les détests! Mais Monsieur Shostres est fier de sa prouesse comme barman et exige que ses amis en dégustent les produits.
Il y a trois jours, j’avais une idée excellente. Si nous pourrions électriser le demi de Bengale: construire un “Grid” comme on a fait en Angleterre! j’ imagine que je me demande si – peutêtre it serait pratique de pomper de l’eau dans des canals énormes pour irriguer les terres plus élevées pendant la saison des pluis quand les fleuves sont débordés. Si nous pourions payer la dépense des installations électriques par imposer des contributions pour l’arrosage des terres, l’électricité pour illumer les villes et pour faire fonctionner les machines des usines se vendrait à trés bon marché. Mais les montagnes ai je suppose se produirait l’électricité le plus facilement sont assez loin: et il y’aura beaucoup de difficultés. Ce sont des rêves.
Much love
Daddie
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
May 3rd 1934
My Darling Annette
At last I have found time to go to Thomas Cook and Son, and find out the comparative cost of going to Brittany or to Savoy, and I am afraid that Savoy will be too expensive. The return journey to Annency, without the cost of spending a night in Paris would be just under £10 a head, whereas to St Malo by train from London and boat from Southampton is about £3 which is a big difference on 4 tickets. Apart from that the hotels round about Annency are all more expensive that the Hotel des Dunes at St Jacut, which has been recommended to me, so I think it will have to be that, and I expect we shall enjoy it very much.
Your report came last week, and seems good all round. They speak very well of your progress in German. If we ever go to Germany it will be a great thing to have someone who will speak for us! I am gradually collecting quite a number of German friends, who say if I ever take you go Germany I must go and visit their families. Joking apart, it is nice to know some of the people of the place when one is in a foreign country. I hope the Count and Countess St Foix will be in St Servan, alongside St Malo and Dinard when we go there, for I thought we would stay a day or two in Dinard to see my various friends there, on our way to St Jacut. St Jacut is only about 30 miles away, so they would probably motor over and have lunch with us, and they are such dear people.
Miss Capstick’s general report of you is quite nice this term. It sounds as if you are begining to enlarge your outlook, so to speak, - - - that is live a bit more for other people, and extend your interest outside yourself. That is what matters most for your own and other peoples happiness later on I believe.
Best love, my darling from
Mum
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
Mai 10 ième 1934
Ma chère Annette
Depuis huit jours j’ais une indigestion. Pas grand chose. Mais par conséquent je suis lourd: et l’énergie me manque de faire la besogne. En effet, je passai lundi au lit. “Santé! Miracle perdu!” mais garder le lit n’a rien fait: j’ai encore une indigestion. Un rougement à travers l’estomac. Je suis donc d’une assez mauvaise humeur. Pendant trois jours je ne vais pas au piscine: je mange peu: je ne fais presque rien pour me distraire.
C’est bien possible que mes dessins à sujet de l’amelioration du pays vaut échouer. Jusqu’ici le Gouvernement n’a pas fait des démarches pour les exécuter: et si l’on ne commence pas aussitôt il sera trop tard: alas il y’aura une perte de 30,000 livres. J’étais résolu à faire passer un prejet de loi à ce propos pendant une séance du Conseil Législatif en juillet: après le consentement du Viceroi des Indes serait nécessaire et cela prendrait de temps: après it faudrait des récherches particuliers dans les pasages du canal – car nous devions savoir définitivement que seraient les contribuables. Enfin on pourrait percevoir les impôts que je propose. Ca serait une affaire de six mois. Si rien ne se faisait pendant la séance de juillet les préparatifs ne seraient pas finis avant la saison d’irrigation de 1935. J’en ai maire. Et je crois qu’il n’est pas poli que de me seroir de cette expression.
Much love
Daddie.
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta.
May 17th 1934
My darling Annette,
What a busy creature you seem to have been last holidays, what with your dress-making, and mowing the lawn, and other useful ploys. I am awfully glad that you are getting the habit of doing jobs for yourself and also for the family. I’d hate you to grow up one of these dependent people who cant do anything for themselves or other people, and who never seem able to make up their own minds.
I still have not quite finished “Vanessa” but am enjoying it most awfully. “Tents in Israel” which you mentioned as just reading, is an awfully good book, and one that stays in the mind.
Richard now suggests that the miserable Dad should learn shorthand in order to be able to correspond with him in it. What with writing in French to you and shorthand to Richard it looks as if Dad is in for a busy time, but I’m afraid the shorthand will not come to anything.
We were so glad to hear such a good account of Ron’s lecture. Ron has a very easy manner and I thought he might make a good lecturer. I wonder what he will do next.
My letter writing time has been cut a bit short this morning, as I had to go out both to the Saturday Club and to the United Service Club to get books for Dad, and you know what a business I always find that.
I like the date to-day. I always think 17 is a nice number, that is why I chose a seventeenth to “Coué” Rosemarys arrival in the world) and May is a lovely month - - - - in England, I mean, not out here.
Hope you have a nice term. How odd to think that I shall only be writing about six more letters to you before I come home.
Best love, my darling
From
LJT
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
May 17th
My dear Annette
A reprieve this week. No need to write in dog French. I don’t know that I should have had the enterprise and initiative needed for such a feat. This is the eighth day of bed. The doctor, visited last Thursday, decided that my tummy gnawings were colitis: and bed it was. Bed or couch. For I lie during the morning on a couch under the fan on the verandah. As now. There is a howling wind and the paper flies up beneath my pen. Treatment, eggs and emetine. Emetine injections. Each leaves a bruise and stiffness. There are to be no more: the number given has been four. Emetine is the specific for amoebic dysentery. This colitis is not dysentry but it may be a result of it.
So I lie and read. Mostly detective stories. Why? because they bear no relation to things. Out of almost everything else I extract bitterness. Your mother says Bunk blither and such: or rather indicates that those are her sentiments. It is because my insides are not as sound as some that I think badly of the state of things and the tendencies of politics. I read an American poem: it says if you think things are bad, think how much better they are than hell: and that will console you unless you think that you’re going there.
If you learnt shorthand, you could be a sacrifice and correspond in it with master Richard. He has indicated that if we learnt it we could do so. But that will never be.
Item, I got out the gramophone: and after one record, it went wrong: something stuck. Lying on my back I couldnt put it right, or find out what it was. So that was that.
Much love
Daddie.
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
May 24th
My dear Annette.
I lie on my side with the pad on a table beside me, just too high to let me see what I am writing – though I can see the lines. It is lawful for me to sit at a table for an hour but I have dedicated that hour to work.
Progress slow. It was bound to be so: but I am not a good patient and I have fallen into despair. The fact is that I am tired of reading slop – tripe – blither or what you think fit to call it: while the reading of any serious and good matter gives me the blue pip. The capacity to extract bitterness from everything is not useful.
Of all times when the gramophone ought to come in useful this is the time. But I dont use it partly because of the labour of winding it when lying down and partly because all energy is lacking and at such times it seems futile to try and learn French. After all the linguaphone records in themselves are dull. Everyone – everyone I see, that is, everyone complains of the heat. Whether it is hotter than the normal hot weather I dont know but undoubtedly it is hot.
I fear that these letters are remarkably dull.
Much love
Daddie
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Rd
Calcutta
May 30th 1934
My darling Annette,
I’m rather a dismal person to-day. I have just had to decide to have my poor old horse “put to sleep” – He slipped on a stone and lamed himself last week – straining the big controlled hip muscle of his already “dikky” hind leg – and the vet says it would not be possible to ride him for three or four months and possibly never – so considering the fact that he is so old and broken winded – and that I shall be going home some time before he is fit to ride again it is really the only sensible thing to do – because keeping a horse costs rather a lot of money – One cant turn them out into a field to graze here as one can in England when they are not working. Of course Dad being ill and dreadfully depressed is’nt very cheering – He is getting on very slowly but the weather has been vilely hot and damp the last few days, which does not help him. Of course I have to try to appear cheerful to him – so I am just letting off steam to you – I shall be cheerful again quite soon – As you know I am not given to being depressed.
It seems unreal that I shall be coming home so soon – I suppose the answer you write to this (if any!) will meet me at Aden or Port Said – or some such place – Have you any clear memories of the ports on the way home? A particularly lovely bathe we had at Aden may have remained in your mind – or an elaborate lunch in a hotel in Marseilles where you were confronted with a large tray of hors d’oeuvres for the first time in your small life, and gazed upon it with surprised eyes.
I have just been looking through your last letter – but though interesting, it does not invite comment so long afterwards.
This week I have been reading a book by Kingdon Ward about a journey from China through the mountains and valleys of the Tibet – China – Burma frontiers into Burma – He had intended to go though into Assam – but was turned back by a bad attack of Fever to Fort Herz – the place where your cousin Ron got back into some sort of touch with civilization. There’s quite a lot about plants and flowers in the book – which interests me. I am just starting a new history of Queen Anne by Hopkinson – which promises to be interesting –
Good-night – and best love, my darling from
Mum