1940 April
Family letter from LJT
Chinsurah
Bengal
April 4th 1940
My Dears,
Before starting this letter, I warn you that it will probably be a dull and colourless one, for I have a stuffy cold, which is making me feel singularly stupid. I was driving a girl about on Sunday, who had a heavy cold, and I suppose I caught it from her.
I’ve been in Calcutta rather a lot this week, for I had to go in on Sunday morning for a Himalayan Club Committee meeting, and stay over for a lecture after dinner. I stayed the night with Mrs Stanley, the ex-head of the Women Police, about whom i think I must often have told you, so that I could be early at the hairdresser the next morning to have my few side curls waved, lunch with an old friend who is just off home for good, and in the evening, visit the Thieves Market with Winsome, and go back to dinner with her and Harry.
The reason we had our Himalayan Club meetings on Sunday was because the man lecturing to us, is a soldier, doing special police work in Midnapore, and he could only get leave to come in to Calcutta at the week-end. He is a man by name John Hunt, and a fine mountaineer and an old friend of mine. His wife is a dear girl, and a stalwart climber herself. John is a member of our Committee, and attended the meeting, after which we picked his wife up from the U.S.Club, and I took them to lunch at the Saturday club. We spent most of the afternoon looking through John’s slides, as he had no lantern on which to try them at Midnapore. I then took the lantern and everything round to the U.S.Club, and saw that all arrangements were in order for the lecture, and at last about 5 o’clock I was able to go out to Mrs Stanley’s flat for a late tea. She told me a lot of interesting things about her work during the last war, and the time passed quickly till we had to go and change for dinner, to which came Arthur Moore, the Editor of the Statesman, and another man. The lecture on “Climbing in England and in the Alps” was of excellent quality but I was disappointed that the audience was not larger. I think some of our members may have thought the subject a little too technical for them. Others have found the evening too hot, and again I think a good many people do not like going out on Sunday evenings.
I was busy all the next day, till about five o’clock, when I was glad to spend a quiet hour looking at the papers, and drinking lemon squash, at the United Service Club for an hour, before Winsome called for me there. There has been a scavengers’ strike going on in Calcutta for some days, and Harry though that it was unwise of Winsome and myself to venture into a part of the town likely to be as noisome as the Thieves Market (That is only its knick-name, of course. Its official designation is Calcutta Second-Hand Market) We said we would go and see, and in point of fact we did not find any specially gruesome smells. There were a good many big piles of cocoanut husks and cinders about along the roads, but they were not gravely offensive to the nose. Inside the market everything was as usual. Winsome was on the look out for a wall-mirror, which she did not find, but I got something which I had been wanting for a long time, and that was one of those very large square glass tank like things, that are really used in some way for storing electricity. They are lovely things for holding foliage or cannas or other very long stalked flowers in big rooms. We got a lot of amusement out of our wanderings too, and from being addressed as “momma” by most of the stall keepers. Maxie again greeted me with tremendous joy when we got back to the house for dinner, and “made sweet moan”. Its very curious how he sort of sings when he is delighted about anything. I was pretty tired by the time I started for home, and slept almost the whole way in the car. Herbert had to go in to a meeting yesterday afternoon, so we left here soon after twelve, so as to get to Calcutta in time for lunch, to which we entertained the Charles Carey Morgans, who leave India for good in a few weeks. We are so fond of them both, though we done often see them since we left Calcutta. I had shopping and office work to do in spite of having been in Calcutta so recently, and met Milly Chaudhuri at the United Service club for tea. Like many thinking Indians I think she feels a sort of cynical helplessness about the future of India. We talked a little about Mr Jinnah’s plan for seperate Mohammaden and Hindu States, which was immediately followed by a claim from South India that there should also be a Drividian State, for though the Drividians of the South are mostly Hindus, they have a different group of languages, a different “culture” and come from a different stock. There are not many Brahmins amongst them, and they are unwilling to put themselves under the rule of a Hindu State which would inevitably be run by Brahmins.
To revert to the Sweepers’ strike in Calcutta, which is a serious thing for a huge over-crowded city, the large proportion of which has no sewage system, but depends on conservancy carts for sanitation. The sweepers air many grievances, one of the most prominent being a complaint against the amount they have to pay in bribery to the various babus, in order to get and keep their jobs, so that though their pay sounds good, they have to give away about a quarter of it. Inconvenient and unpleasant as a strike of this sort is, I am rather glad to hear that the men’s spokesmen have had to courage to say directly what is the matter, and demand that this system of graft should stop. I believe it is only by the co-operation of the under-dog who has to give the bribes that the abuse could be got rid of. As long as people are willing to pay, some sort of method will be found of avoiding the most viligent eye. However unintelligent an Indian, he always seems to have a special ability for arranging these sort of things.
The curious stormy, cool weather we had through so much of March, has given place to the normal dry heat of this time of year, and for the last few days we have been shutting up the house at 9.30 a.m. and keeping the windows shut till after tea, which we have under a fan in the drawing room, instead of in the garden. Many of the flowers which had managed to linger on because of the rain and the coolth, have now rapidly died, and had to be pulled up. There are brave things that face the hot-weather like cannas, minature sunflowers and the orange cosmos, and which are kindly coming into bloom now, to cheer us, and the next two months are the best for flowering trees and shrubs. We are making masses of humus this year, and I am thinking of sowing my vegetable garden with Soya bean, to be grown as a green manure. Its not worth while growing the rains varieties of vegetables, for we dont care much about them, and we get all the English varities sent down from Darjeeling and other Hill stations to the Calcutta markets.
Oddly enough Herbert seems more energetic since the weather got hotter. Its because the air is much drier, I suppose. He does not like high humidity, and he never likes storms.
Oh! I forgot to mention that Herbert also had to go in to a meeting in Calcutta last Friday morning, so we went to see “Gulliver’s Travels” in the afternoon. I thought it about the worst film I have ever seen, and would willingly have come out, except that there was some interest in seeing what new horror they would perpertrate next. When we got home I fetched out Gulliver so that we could check certain facts. I read bits out to Herbert, and the vivid clean cut language and exact descriptions of everything, worked out in a fairly logical way, are a masterpiece of invention, compared to which this bad quality “Silly Symphony” business made one feel revolted. Its monstrous that they should so traduce anything. I wish Gulliver and the Lillipution Emperor could run a libel suite against them! The Emperor is such a dignified and courageous little person in the book, and made such mock of on the film, a deformity to look at, and in behaviour a gross caricature of John Barrymore playing a senile old man. Bah! I wish I had some way of letting the makers of the film know how I despise them! I hope profoundly that the public wont like it. So far I have met no one who has.
Best love to you all
LJT
From LJT to Annette
Chinsurah
Bengal
April 4th 1940
My darling Annette
You will be back at Oxford by the time you get this I suppose, and settling down to a stiff term’s work. I dont know whether its a suitable thing to say “more power to your elbow”. Does that only refer to drinking capicity? This must be investigated. I remembered to look up the proper “trimmings” for Sir Harry Lindsay and Sir David Meek, when I was in Calcutta yesterday, and shall write to them about you during the next few days. In case they should write to you and you want to reply, here are their proper titles and decorations.
Sir Harry Lindsay. K.C.I.E., C.I.E., C.B.E. Director. Imperial Institute. Kensington.
Sir David Meek. Kt. C.I.E., O.B.E., Indian Trade commissioner. India House London.
Its always as well to give people all their proper decorations on the envelope for some are very particular about it, while others don’t care a hoot. Sir David is a Scotchman, with whom Dad chummed once many years ago. He has a habit of telling very long Scotch stories, and laughing uproariously at them himself. Dad says the only amusing story he every told was when he simply recounted an incident seen in a tram in Glasgow. A girl strap-hanging, dropped her little white handkerchief, and it landed on the very large lower stomach of a big hefty workman, lying just beside the fly buttons. The girl looked down at the handkerchief, slightly embarrased. The workman, peering down over his bulging front, saw a gleam of something white, and thinking he had left a bit of shirt sticking out, took his finger, and poked the little hanky into the front of his trousers. When Sir David’s companions congratulated him on having told a funny story at last, he protested that it was not a story, but fact! Sir Harry Lindsay retired from the I.C.S some years ago. Sir David was in the Education Service out here (with a brilliant academic record) and in some odd way did a lot of special jobs connected with commerce during the last war, and so got into other special jobs in Delhi/Simla, and finally this much desired billet at home.
Several things this week have caused my mind to wonder why there are so many people in the world who seem to have little or no moral sense, and no idea of responsibility in a personal or a public sense. One factor in setting my mind in this direction was Mrs Stanley’s talk about the police and dective work she was doing during the last war. Another was some confidences from the Mother of a twenty two year old daughter, brought out here at the age of seventeen and, in my opinion, completely ruined. She is an extremely pretty girl, quite remarkable so, but her looks have really proved a curse, I think. She has taken to drinking heavily at all parties. She spends most of her dress allowance on betting, and then signs for what she wants in her parents’ name at the shops, and now, having jilted one man, and carried on affairs with several others, she is trying to make up her mind whether to marry one of two suiters, neither of whom she pretends to love, so that she shall not have to go home to England, now that her parents are retiring and leaving India for good. She thinks she will have more of what she calls “fun” out here and will be less likely to have to work. And if anyone thinks that that girl is happy, just look carefully at her pretty face in repose and they wont be left long in doubt. There’s selfishness and discontent in every line of it! I have written so much about his girl, that is almost too late to add the other thing that has brought these thoughts into my mind, but I will, Dad has been reading the auto-biographies of two or three men, who were rolling stones “bumbing” round America during last Century, when things were pretty rough, and their lives and the lives of the people they mixed with seem to have been one long tale of drink, unpaid debts, fights, cheating and doing down any decent people who came in their way. These books give a pretty different twist to the glamour of the wild West, from what we gathered in such works as “Red-skin and Cowboy”, “The Last of the Mohicans” and other works of that description. Is it the way people are brought up and educated that sets them on the wrong lines do you suppose, or is there something lacking in them, so that they cant help going wrong?
Best love, my dear
From
Mother
From LJT to Rosemary
Chinsurah, April 4th, 1940
My darling Romey,
I’d rather like to write a letter like Richard once did to Dad, saying “Elephants! Their trunks. Their tusks. Their legs. Their eyes. Their legs. That is enough about elephants” ----for it seems to me a good system when you have nothing special in mind to write about. I’ve two letters to thank you for, so no excuse for being barren of ideas, except a slight cold in my head, which makes me stupid.
I’ve given the address of Headington School, and the name of Davenport House to Mrs. Charles Carey Morgan, who wants to find a school for her thirteen year old daughter this summer. We had talked about it before, and I may have mentioned it to you before. The Carey Morgans (Charles is an elder brother of Hugh’s) are leaving India for good this month. They have been in Calcutta for many years. I tell you all this so that you may know who they are if they suddenly turn up in Oxford.
Dad had been reading one of the Pelican books “Microbes by the Million”, and as so often happens, reading long passages aloud to me. It is an interesting work, stolen, I gather, by Uncle Harry from Highways, because he thought it would please Dad. Have you read it by any chance? I must read it for myself. It seems to be an attempt to show the marvelously important work done by microbes in breaking down all dead animal and vegetable matter, into forms which can be reabsorbed by living growing things. It seems to be written in a fairly lively style took so that one need not fall asleep over it.
What a big change there has been in the presentation of popular science during the last quarter of a century. To be scientific used to be almost synonymous with being dry as dust, in the old days, though some great men like Darwin avoided it. In the last Reader’s Digest there is a resume of a book about Chlorophyll and the marvelous way it makes life possible upon earth. I can’t remember the exact title, but it is the last article in the magazine. Do borrow it from Annette and read it sometime. As the paper has gone by sea and this goes by air, it will be some time before it arrives, I expect.
Were you home in time to see Dicky? It was a pity that is leave and your holidays did not coincide. I’m glad he seems so happy, and likes his mates. It must make a great difference that they are all educated men, and most of them interested in the same sort of things that he is interested in.
How odd that the schools from London are so bad at gym. Do you suppose they have not got a gym when they are at home, or are they day girls, and do they consequently not have much time for that sort of thing?
Winsome was amusing about you. She greatly appreciates the fact that you do not argue and discuss with heat on all sorts of subjects, including the war, during meal times. She seems to have found that habit amongst the other members of the family rather trying.
Best love, my darling,
Mother
From LJT to Annette
Chinsurah
Bengal
April 11th 1940.
My darling Annette,
It was amusing to read how you all liked Dickey’s uniform, and how he found it rather embarrassing, as it got him too much looked at in his home town and village. I long for a photo of him, and hope that someone rose to the occasion and took some snaps of him. Poor Uncle, being “difficult” with a cold! I rather suspect that I may have been a bit “difficult” myself this week, for the same reason. I really felt quite ill for a few days, and would rather have liked to stay in bed, but somehow its not so very inviting in hot weather, and then I have to rely on the servants to bring me the things I want, and they never find the right ones, - - papers or books chiefly.
Really all other interest is subordinated to this Norwegian business at the moment. We had the detailed account of the Narvik battle, the first one by destroyers. In the 2 o’clock news there was a rumour that a British Flotilla had sailed up the Fiord and were landing Marines. There are all the reports of German ships sunk, and I long to hear the official confirmation. If the rumours are near the truth, the German naval and supply ships have taken it fairly heavily in the neck in the last 24 hours. How silly it is to write like this! Now, what is there in your letter to comment on! I like hearing about the Toulmin family, and hope I shall have a chance to meet more of them some day. Wont it be nice when we have a home of our own to which we can ask people to stay? How soon shall we be able to accomplish it I wonder. Its funny to think that but for the war, I might even now, be selling up our belongings preparatory to leaving India for good in a few weeks time.
Aunt tells me that all Mrs Nield’s books were going into the sale. I wonder whether you and Gav found any that you wanted. A sale of books always fascinates me! Poor Mrs Nield! Its rather sad to think of that house being stripped of its furnishings. It seemed such a home, and would rather like to think of it passing on to the son, intact. Those are notions that I suppose we shall have to get rid of. The other day I saw somewhere that Goethe said that every new generation has to win freedom for itself. it seems true, and I suppose it will also be true that each generation will have to build up its homes for itself.
Have you been reading any of the Oxford Pamphlets on current affairs? I have read the first six, and am gradually reading the others, all loaned to me by Walter Jenkins. They seem to me very good, and are teaching me a great deal that I did not know before.
OH dear! Oh! Dear! Its almost time for the letters to go to post! Anyway I’m not in much of a letter-writing mood. I’m sad at the loss of my friend Mary de Kat. With all her money, her poor health prevented her getting very much out of life, perhaps because she had not the strength to put very much in. What a contrast the other two of our school-time trio, Magda Elliot and myself, make, with our abounding good health, and robust families.
Best love, and good luck to you
From
Mother
Family letter from LJT
Chinsurah
Bengal
April 11th 1940
My Dears,
With world-shaking events going on in and around Norway, and the details of the raid on Narvik, and reports of other naval actions, not yet fully confirmed, fresh in my ears from this mornings’ wireless broadcast, it seems almost impossible to write about the little things that we have been doing from day to day. I heard about the occupation of Denmark and parts of Norway when I came out of the cinema on Tuesday afternoon. I had to be in Calcutta for a Himalayan Club Committee Meeting, so I took the opportunity to going to see “The Lion Has Wings” at three o’clock, and I also treated the Driver and Mogul to a view of it, as I thought it would be good for them. The Driver speaks English quite well, and can read and write a little in it, so he was able to follow more or less, and keep Mogul informed of what was going on. They were a bit non-plussed at Elizabeth burning up in the middle, and I had to explain about her afterwards. I have them quite a little lecture the next morning, trying to explain, with the help of a map, something of Germany’s latest moves. Apropos of Denmark, Mogul said “Why, it is as if a man walked into my house, and took all my food and everything that belongs to me” “Yes” I said “only it would be, say six men, who walked in, armed with guns, against you along, armed only with a stick, and as if you knew that there were hundreds more who would come quickly and shoot you if you did not do exactly as you were told” Mogul raised his eyebrows, put his tongue between his lips, and gave vent to the favourite expression “Baperi” (very long drawn out).
From what we have heard over the air and seen in the papers, it looks as if Norway had believed in Germany’s protestations of neutrality, for surely other wise all these towns and shore fortifications could not have fallen with scarcely a gun fired, to what presumably must be a comparatively limited German force. Regarding all German announcements and promises as probably at least three-quarters lies, we find it hard to realize that other peoples may believe a good deal of what they hear from Germany. I’m afraid that is the case to a certain extent in India. There are a large number of people in this country who rather like to hear of minor defeats and difficulties for England, because they think it will give them greater bargaining power to get complete independance for India, though back of it all they have a serene faith that England and France are bound to win in the end. Talking of Independence, there has been rather an interesting situation in Howrah, the great industrial suburb of Calcutta which lies on the West bank of the river, and so comes into Herbert’s Division. This current week was much advertised there, to be celebrated as “Independence Week”. Other factors have come in. I think I mentioned that Calcutta had been suffering from a strike of the Sweepers (Scavengers), a very serious situation in a town with an almost tropical climate, and only very partially served with modern sewage system. The strikers were given a rise in pay, and back pay for the days they had been away from work. The sweepers of Howrah, hearing about this, thought it would be a fine thing to go on strike and get more pay, so, though they had formulated no case, or brought forward any grievance, they went on strike. This stoppage of work by the scavengers has interested Howrah so much, that the organizers of Independence Week, have scarcely been able to collect anyone for their processions, or meetings, and the whole thing has been a complete flop. I seem now to have successfully distracted my mind from the immediate focus on the war, and will try to write on of small personal concerns. My chief personal concern this week, has been a heavy cold. It was in my head when I wrote on Thursday last. By Saturday afternoon it was in my throat as well, and I was talking with difficulty, which was specially annoying because Walter Jenkins was here for the week-end, and G.B.Gourlay was on one of his rare visits to Calcutta and rang up to know if he could come out for tea and dinner. it is always such a pleasure to see him, and we always have so many things to talk about, that it was annoying to be feeling rather rotten, (such a rare thing for me!) and handicapped as regards speech by a painful throat, and vocal cords that were all out of gear. On Sunday I had even less voice, and felt rather as if I would like to stay in bed, but there is little comfort in so doing when the weather is hot. I did not feel up to carrying out the plan which Walter and I had had of getting up at 6 a.m., and driving out a few miles, and then going for a country walk. He kindly and politely said that he enjoyed a throughly lazy day sometimes, and he interested us very much, by talking at great length on the faults in the present education system in India, and what possibilities there are of improving it. This carried us on to education in other parts of the world, and he was able to give us a lot of information about things which we did not know before. I kept very quiet on Monday writing letters most of the day, but still almost voiceless. On Tuesday, rather against Herbert’s will, I went down to Calcutta. I felt I must go unless I was really ill, for there was a Himalayan Club Committee Meeting in the evening, and long before I had promised to lunch with Louise Ranken to meet an American woman who is out here on a visit, primarily to see if she can trace any relation between the Hindu group of religions in India with the old American Indian religions, of which she has been making a study for many years. She is an elderly woman, one of Boston’s Intellectuals, and a very charming and intelligent person, with only the merest smear of an accent. Actually she and Louise and I were all so excited about the German moves, that we started talking war and politics, and scarcely spoke of comparative religions till shortly before it was time for me to leave. Mrs - - - ? (How idiotic! Her name has completely escaped my mind.) thinks that America has behaved very badly over this war, and that she also behaved badly over the Peace after the last war. Naturally this was not baldly stated like this, but draped to make it look a little better. We had a most interesting hour and a half of talk, for she has travelled very widely in Europe, including the Balkans during the last ten years, and kept her eyes and her mind very wide open. Her impressions of India were interesting too. “Well” she said, “I think you British have been very patient”.
In order to avoid rushing about in the Market and the shops, I took Mogul into Calcutta to do the shopping for me, and spent most of the morning working in the office where our Himalayan Club clerk sits. The afternoon I spent in the air-conditioned coolness of the cinema, as I have already said, and much enjoyed “The Lion has Wings”, though I would like to have eliminated Merle Oberon and her friend, and put in a couple of sensible looking English women, if indeed they really felt they must have a female or two on the stage now and again. Merle Oberon is not only so exotic, but also has that sly look so typical of the pretty Anglo Indian girl who is “on the make”. It hurts rather to see her cast for parts that should be played by a straight-forward Britisher. I suppose we are all a bit prejudiced out here by being able to recognise her type so well.
G.B.Gourlay was still in Calcutta, and we co-opted him to come to our Committee meeting, which was a most satisfactory one, at which several long-out-standing problems were settled. Charles Crawford took G.B. and myself to have a “Grill” at the Saturday Club, and we sat talking a long while after it, for though still very hoarse, was able to produce understandable sounds by this time.
Yesterday Herbert and I did a thing we have never done before. We left here at 4 p.m. and went to Calcutta because a) He wanted a hair-cut b) We both wanted to see “Mr Smith Goes to Washington and c) I thought it would be good for him to have a little outing. We enjoyed “Mr Smith” in moderation but it does degenerate into farce too deeply in the last half.
And so the week has gone by! Now I wait for the next broadcast, which will be at 1.54 by Calcutta time. Reception has been very good lately.
There are two very sad things I have heard this week. One is that my old friend Mary de Kat (Sherriff) is dead. I don’t know any details, but she has been very frail for years. And the other is that another friend, Poppy Dunn is seriously ill with Pernicious anaemia. It is, of course, cureable now-a-days, but she has such a long history of ill-health, that I feel very much afraid for her.
Best love to you all.
LJT
From LJT to Annette
Chinsurah
Bengal
April 15th 1940.
My darling Annette,
There is something about accounts of doings at the Drakes that always sounds as if they came out of a book. I don’t know why I get this impression. You seem to have been lucky, not only in your Oxford friends, but in their families. I am sorry that our life in India has perforce done you out of the pleasure of having your friends to stay in your own home.
I am glad to hear the “Pinocchio” is good, for I was so disgusted with “Gulliver” I felt I did not want to see another cartoon picture for a long while. Its curious that Princes and Princesses and fairies and such, turn out so wishy-washy in these things. Dad says he read that its much more difficult to represent normal people by drawings, for to make them look natural, more drawings are needed. When the creatures dipicted are strange and wierd, people don’t find it odd that their movements are over rapid and jerky. I wonder whether this is true, for it seems to me that the wicked queen in Snowwhite was more or less normal looking, but she did not give that blank, almost imbicile impression that the princesses convey.
The fighting in and round Norway is so exciting that its difficult to keep ones mind from wandering back to it. I also find it hard to control my optimism. The papers say that one must not hope for very quick results. Dad is always against believing that successes are real, but really it does look as if Germany has got herself into an uncomfortable position, and it is interesting that the Navy should be dashing about and doing sudden, daring and unexpected things, as it has done so often in history before, and as most people believed it would never do again. There was an extremely good description by a Canadian Officer of the R.A.F. on the wireless this morning, of the reconnaisance flight over Norway and subsequent fight with several Messerschmidts in which he and companion planes were engaged a day or two ago. It was simple direct, and vivid. It did give one the real feeling that one had been talking to someone who had been there, in a way which the printed word never quite does.
Our doctor has been asking my advice about finding a governess for his fourteen year old step-daughter, whom his wife intends to bring out here in the Autumn, not so much because she is afraid of air-raids and such for the child, but because passages are now so expensive, and rather difficult to get, so that she will not be able to follow her usual plan of spending six months with her husband and six months with her children (A son of 23, just gone to France.) Of course a governess worth having, and really capable of teaching a girl of fourteen, is just not to be found out here, except by some miraculous chance. A woman with qualifications of that sort would only come out either to a job in a school, or possibly brought out by wealthy people – I told Col Murray that the consensus of opinion is that the three or four girls of fourteen and fifteen who came out last autumn, are already dreadfully spoilt, and that I thought it the greatest mistake to bring a girl of that age out here. “Oh” said he. “My wife wont be parted from her for more than six months”. I could not very well say so to him, but it seems to me just dashed selfish. To sacrifice the valuable training, and transplant a child into an atmosphere as unsuitable to her age, as that of Calcutta, just because you wont deny yourself the pleasure of her company appears to me to be inexcusable. Of course lots of other reasons are put forward “No one to leave her with”. “She hates being parted from me” - - and so on, but they are things that can be got over, and are by many people. I also said that if I found it absolutely necessary to bring a child out here, I would send her to Queens’ Hill, the school chiefly run by American missionaries in Darjeeling, which I think is fairly good, and where the chi-chi accent is not marked, and where there are plenty of American girls, brought up in good “god-fearing” homes, in a sensible atmosphere of practical work. The odd thing about mothers who take this attitude is that they expect to be praised for it, and have an idea that they are displaying a devotion to their children which is altogether admirable! Well! I’ve got that off my chest, though I don’t know why it should interest you. Oh Lor! here’s the end of the paper! Best love
Mother
From LJT to Rosemary
Chinsurah, April 15th, 1940
My darling Romey,
Aunt tells me that the front of your gym tunic fairly bristles with ribbons and badges, and that you have been given a special tie and hat band superior to the 1st in hockey. Congratulations on all this! It seems that you are the athlete of the family. I hope you will get,-- or I should rather say--have got--some riding during the Easter Holidays, even if it had to be paid for. You deserve it, for all the work you did during the last two holidays.
I liked Aunt’s description of how she wheeled a great sack of waste paper up to the Antrims, much to the consternation of the “char-lady”. It would take more than that to worry Aunt, don’t you think? What an asset it is in life not to mind what you do, provided it is right, and sensible. Richard, I believe, is remarkably free from self-consciousness in that way, partly because when he wants to do anything, it absorbs him so, that he has no attention left for what other people may be thinking. It was sad that your holidays did not correspond with his leave.
I am just reading that book “Germany Puts the Clock Back”, which was written before the war, but which makes most interesting reading now. It is sad to hear how the Nazi party managed to control education so that nothing was taught to young people, until it had been twisted to conform with their teachings. It makes one realize a little of how this war came about, when one realizes that the youth of Germany has been brought up to think that all other countries were out to destroy their self-respect, and that all Germans living in other countries were disgracefully treated. It’s hard for us, with our complete freedom of speech, and of literature to realize at all what it must be like to live in a country where you are only allowed to see one side of all questions, and that side carefully dressed up to appear just what the leaders want it to be.
I had hoped that Dad was coming up from his office after lunch for a short rest as he usually does, for I want to telephone to my Himalayan Club clerk, but I don’t like to disturb Dad when he is working, and the phone is on his office table.
The wireless is a tremendous joy when events are following fast on each other’s heels as they have been doing the last few days in and near Norway. How proud one feels of the British Navy. It seems completely up to its old form of the days of Drake and of Nelson, and very much in the same tradition. Singeing Hitler’s moustache may be more difficult than singeing the King of Spain’s beard, but I think they set to it with just as much relish.
April 16th Winsome and Max arrived yesterday evening to stay a few days. Max went round to say how-do-you-do to all his friends, the servants, and then made a regular tour of the garden to see that all the proper smells were still there. When we went to bed, he stayed on the central landing for some time and finally decided to come and sleep under our mosquito net. It is nice having him back here again. For a moment at breakfast, he almost forgot himself and chased the squirrels, but remembered before he had reached them and turned back, and apologized quite clearly!
Lovey writes from Darjeeling that she now has six small boarders already installed and a seventh coming shortly, and several day pupils, so I hope she will do well in her little school, and get well established this year. It is a great chance, for so few people are taking children home.
Best love and blessing upon you, my dear
From Mother
From HPV to Rosemary
Chinsurah, April 16, 1940
My Dear Rosemary,
That long and languorous Maxie is in the house, having arrived with Winsome in tow. I can hear him defying folk in the blackness of the garden, clouds over the moon. When they arrived, yesterday evening, I was in the garden and Maxie displayed an energy of delight at his return that was an astonishment to all. He bounded on me; he saluted all the servants and displayed appropriate feelings to each, nicely graded. He investigated ancient haunts. Strange to see him suddenly remember old customs -- such as taking firewood out of the fireplace (but there was none there), coming for tidbits at stated times, and by no means rushing upon the squirrels. Ten of them turned up on Sunday morning to breakfast---circus!!
The family tell me that you have a Joseph’s bosom of trophies, but why wear them only for gymnastics? Your letters give an impression of American hustle, but I hope with more accomplished. Richard has written of his astonishment to find people, when he went on leave, talking and thinking as normal, because he and his companions are so engrossed in the daily tasks as to have forgotten its existence. That is a very proper spirit.
It has been a hot day for Winsome’s visit and a certain lethargy has resulted as usual when the temperature is in the nineties, but a cool breeze is sweeping through the house after the fall of the evening. Winsome says that anyhow, the day was not so hot as in Calcutta.
I have been doing a lot these last two days, but finishing little. What takes labour is trying to get to the very bottom of things. Saying precisely what one means, no more and no less, is another labour-making ambition.
Much love,
Dad
Family letter from LJT
Chinsurah
Bengal
April 17th 1940
My Dears,
With attention still so much focussed on Norway, I am still suffering from the difficulty of paying a great deal of attention on other things. We are told that we probably shant hear very much more for some days, but no doubt, like most of you at home, we feel we must switch on the wireless several times a day, just in case there’s anything new to hear.
The social event of the week has been the dance at Chandernagore in aid of the Chinsurah Hospital. I invited Idris Matthews, to bring up a certain Christine Roslyn, who came out here originally in the Russian Ballet, and has recently returned to teach dancing in Calcutta. Walter Jenkins also came and our new Indian Collector and his wife, dined with us, and went to the dance with us. The Hotel de Paris, where it was held, must, in the early days of its career, have been a fine house. It belonged to one of the wealthy old French Indigo families. Its glory is now much departed, and its a bit sordid, though I hear it is not quite such a haunt of vice as it used to be under a former manager. We were joined at our table on the verandah by Monsieur Ménard, the departing Administrateur, and M. Baron, newly arrived that day, but not new to Chandernagore, for he and his wife were there when first we came here. We drank M. Menard’s health, and wished him luck. “Ah!” he said “Norway is a good country for le sport. Pan! Pan!” and he made the action of shooting with a rifle. He is to go to France, have a short holiday, and then join the army. It was certainly a bit hot dancing, but it was not bad fun, and the Cabaret, done by children, was passable, though not exactly brilliant.
We had a quiet week-end, with no visitors, for a wonder. I had time to go and see the old lady, Miss Baboneau, who has just come back from a months visit to Calcutta, and the matron of the Hospital who is laid up with an attack of appendicitis. Winsome arrived on Monday evening, accompanied by Max. Max was excited to be back, and ran round to see all the servants and inspect his old haunts, to see that nothing was changed. It is great fun having Winsome here, and she seems to like a quiet life, and messing about in the garden in the evening. I made an effort to clear off all urgent letters before she came, so that I could be free to sit and sew and talk with her. Its a delightful change from my ordinary regime, and I am dealing with one or two jobs that have required attention for some time. Charlotte has gone with her nurse and one of her little friends to stay at Puri, where the parents of this small girl have a house. Harry has had to go up to Asansol for a few days to see the firms coal mines, so Winsome suggested that she should spend a few days with us, and its a great pleasure to have her here.
its curious! There seems extraordinarily little to write about this week. Perhaps because much of my time has been spent in hearing all sorts of little details from Winsome about the family at home, and also about life in England now. Another reason may be that its 3 o’clock on a hot afternoon, and my mind feels a bit sluggish. I’l put this away till to-morrow, and perhaps some fresh inspiration will come.
18.4.40. Winsome and I sat out in the garden in the moonlight till dinner-time last night, talking chiefly about our ideas with regard to the making of a home when we leave India. It seems to us that so many of our friends have made the same mistake when they go home for good, and that is that they try to live in too grand a style, settle into houses that prove to be too large to run comfortably on the income they have, and after a year or two they have to move, often dropping quite a lot of money in the process. With the War to pay for, future ambitions will have to be very modest, for us, and I am glad that neither Herbert nor I have extravagant tastes, and that the children have been brought up in an atmosphere of thrift, and making the best use of things.
There are all sorts of things going on in India at the moment, but the headlines about Indian affairs make so little impression on ones mind when one is watching for news of the War. I don’t know at all what the educated Indians are thinking about the invasions of Norway and Denmark. Most of them like to live in a world where they believe and disbelieve facts just as best fits in with their dreams. With regard to the war, they do not in the least want Germany to win, - - in fact most of them would regard the idea with horror, but they like Britain to be taken down a peg or two, and believe that a Britain hard pressed will be the more likely to give complete and unconditional self-government to the Congress party. It seems to me that their attitude about Home Rule for India shows this same disinclination to face facts. They just disregard the obvious difficulties, and claim that once the malign British influence was removed, everything would be alright. At the same time they seem to take it for granted that the “British Bayonet” would be at their command until such time as they were firmly established.
The only Indians I have seen much of just lately are our Collector and his wife, who as officials in the British Government machine are not at all anxious to see Home Rule in India, and whose views about the War are much the same as our own.
As the Cold weather annual flowers dry up and disappear, the indiginous flowering shrubs and trees begin to burst out into their spring blooming, and the trees whose blossoms are not noticeable, sometimes vie with the flowering ones, in beauty, by the delicacy and charm of their new tender foliage. The peepel trees are specially noteworthy in this. Their fresh foliage is enchanting.
* * * * * *
There has been a long pause here, while I have been discussing with the doctor what to do with old Miss Baboneau. Her companion fell ill in Calcutta suffereing from high blood pressure, and probably wont be able to come back for some time. Meantime the old lady has developed a heavy cold with a tendency to bronchitis, and Col Murray says she simply must have someone to look after her, and he does not think it will be suitable to have the old companion back even when she has recovered from the present attack, for it may always recur, - - so I have to go over this evening and see what can be done.
We had great hopes of a storm last night. There were black clouds both to the south and to the north-west at tea time, and a few drops of rain, and a little thunder, but the clouds all cleared off without giving us the shower we wanted. Probably there was rain somewhere, for a beautiful cool wind sprang up and blew most of the night. So far this Hot Weather has not been severe.
Winsome leaves us to-day I am sorry to say. It has been a great pleasure having her here. We now look forward to spending a night with them at the end of next week.
Max has found it a little difficult to divide his allegiance between Winsome and ourselves. Each evening when we have gone off to bed, he has started by a compromise, settling himself on the rug on the central landing, where he can keep in touch with all rooms, but later he comes and pushes his nose under our Mosquito net, and creeping in, sleeps beside us.
Its a poor letter this week I am afraid, and I wont try to spin it out more, but just send you all my love
LJT
Family letter from LJT
Chinsurah
Bengal
April 25th ‘40
My Dears,
Herbert and I have been busy discussing how we can save more to lend to the Government. The most obvious thing is drink, whisky, gin and so on, and rather to my surprise, Herbert seems not averse to the idea. Its true that it will be more of a depravation to our guests than to ourselves, for Herbert is not at all fond of spirits, and though he likes a glass of sherry in the evening, I don’t think he would notice giving it up very much. As far as food is concerned we already live simply, and buy few imported luxuries, and for a long time I have set my face against buying new clothes, for I thought we were coming home this spring. When that plan was altered, I still detirmined to buy as little new as possible, and have been carrying this to such good effect that when I returned from a visit to the Chakravartys the other day, I found I had sat through the seat of my frock! The car we have to run, but I am always careful about petrol, and try to be as economical with milage as I can be. We have a large staff of servants, but it is difficult to do otherwise in this big house. The man I could possibly spare is the old bearer, who being a Hindu, does not do any table work, and who, moreover, goes sick fairly often, but after all the years he has served us, (mostly very indifferently its true!) I cant very well give him the sack. The garden with the three malis and one almost permanent coolie, is perhaps a little extravagent, but its seems such an awful pity to let it go to peices. I think as soon as the Rains break, I shall get rid of the coolie. So I think the house will have to go dry, and for the rest, I shall just have to exercise all the detailed economy I can. Luckily Herbert is a most simple creature in his tastes!
Since I wrote last week I have had two days in Calcutta, or rather, one and a half. I was down all day on Friday, and did a great many jobs, including a lengthy visit to the Red Cross War Comforts Depot, to get more work for the few of us who are doing it here. I had a quiet lunch with Louise Ranken, one of the Americans who would I think, have been glad to see America in the war from the beginning. I had Himalayan Club business to discuss with Reggie Cooke in his office, and work to do with the Club clerk, which, plus a little shopping, and a “sitting” for a passport photo (my passport has just run out beyond renewing) took up the afternoon, till it was time to meet some people at the United Service Club and give them advice about a trip in Sikkim. At six o’clock Mrs Stanley joined me at the Club and drive out to Chinsurah with me, where she stayed with us for the week-end. Luckily it was delightfully cool all the time, and as she works hard, and as her office (the S.P.C.A.) is a very hot and airless one, the rest and airy-ness of this house, did her good. We made no expeditions, but enjoyed the quiet of the garden in the evenings. The doctor joined us for dinner on Saturday, and on Sunday we had the Maharaja of Mymensingh here for tea, before the opening of a Club House which has just been built by the Chinsurah Town Club. Herbert had to go to the ceremony too, but I refused, for they only came to invite me about four days previously, and I had already asked Mr and Mrs Kemp (He is the head of Indian Air Survey and Transport) to tea and dinner. It was the night of the full moon, and though it was pretty sitting out by the river, it was not a bit like the ordinary hot weather full moon nights, for the sky had quite a lot of cloud across it, and there was a mistyness in the air. As a rule the hot weather moonlight is so bright that it shows up every leaf and flower.
Mr Kemp has been doing a lot of air survey work over some of the Hilly districts of Burmah, and I was interested to hear that the work is not for map-making purposes, but for geological work.
Our old eighty-five year old Miss Baboneau, has been taking up some of my time again. Her companion went sick when they were on a visit to Calcutta, and had to be left there. When the old lady got back here, she went down with a bad cold and cough, and the doctor came rushing over to me to say that she must have someone with her. I spent half the day trying to get hold of one or other of the two nurses who looked after her when she was ill before, but had no luck, so sent round to an Armenian woman who has often helped the old lady and who is a good practical amature nurse, and by a stroke of luck she was able to undertake to look after the old lady for as long as we need, since she has one of her elder daughters who is a nurse, home on leave, and she can look after the home and the younger children. I also had to fix up for the Companion to be “vetted” by a decent doctor in Calcutta, for when she fell ill some Indian doctor about whom we know nothing, had been called in. I have just heard that she should be well enough to come back in a week. I really cant think how old Miss Baboneau stays alive. She is the tinest thin little creature, and yet she suffers from high blood pressure, and various other ailments, any one of which one would think would kill her!
Idris Matthews rang up on Sunday to ask if I could go and help him with a dinner-party on Tuesday, and as I had twice refused similar request lately, I though I must say “yes” this time. It seemed a pity to go to within seven miles of Calcutta and not get some more benefit out of the petrol used. I decided to leave here after lunch and go to some of the Indian cloth bazaars to see if I could find some very cheap stuff to make drawing-room curtains for the net ones I took over when we came here, have simply fallen into shreds at their last washing. I took Mogul to assist me, but our efforts were not successful. There was nothing in the least suitable, and it was a bit hot pushing through the narrow isles between the little shops between three and four o’clock on an April afternoon. I gave it up after a while, and got some stuff which I think will do well at a place called “The Good Companions” which is a depot mostly run by voluntry labour, where all sorts of missions and cottage industries can send their stuff to be sold. The interesting thing about the miles of Marwari cloth shops in the Bazaars off Harrison Road, is that they all seem to sell identical materials! Will the whole thing ever develop into one huge emporium? It seems as if it would be much more sensible. I had scarcely realized before the huge numbers of Marwaris there are in Calcutta, for I had never been into those bazaar quarters. The Marwaris come from near Bombay and trade all over India. They are often spoken of as “The Jews of India”. At five-thirty I was due at Edward Groth’s flat, and I must say it seemed like Heaven to go into his cool shaded drawing-room and sit under a fan drinking iced grapefruit juice! He is busy planning a trip to Gartok in Central Tibet, not far from the sacred mountain, Kailas, and he wanted to discuss some of the details with me. I think he is going to take Lewa, the man who has been out twice with Ron Kaulback, and who previously had an excellent record on Mount Everest and other expeditions. I shall be glad if he gets the job, which will be for eight or ten weeks, because its not easy to find work for a man like Lewa now-a-days. On small local treks, most people don’t feel they need a sirdar, so in a sense the men who most deserve jobs, are the ones for whom it is the most difficult to arrange work. Of course I think a lot of them do a bit of trading with Tibet, and make a bit of money that way.
It was a nice party at Idris’ including M. and Madame Baron from Changernagore. Both the Barons say that their English has become very rusty through not being used for a long time (They left Chandernagore two years ago) so a good part of the time we struggled along in French. After dinner we sat out in the garden beside the river where it was deliciously cool, though it had been so hot earlier in the evening. The garden at Cossipore is brightly illumined by three or four big electric lights since the war broke out, and it makes sitting in the garden after dark has fallen, extremely pleasant. I slept almost the whole way hime in the car, and got in about 12.45.
Herbert and I have both had the anti-enteric injections. With the new “Glaxo Vaccine” the reaction is very slight. Herbert felt a little cheap on the evening of the day he was done and the following day, but he had never had the injection before. I had had it twice once in 1913 and once in 1935, and I felt no reaction this time except that my arm was sore and tender to touch for a couple of days. I am glad to have had it done. When there was some fear that Herbert might be sickening for enteric when he fell ill in February, I felt guilty that I had never urged him to be done.
We are going to pay Harry and Winsome another little visit this week-end. Herbert is much more inclined to go into Calcutta now they are back.
I still listen eagerly to the news three times a day. Luckily the All India one at mid-day in only a brief summery. The Full News from Daventry is much longer.
Best love
LJT
From LJT to Rosemary
Chinsurah, Bengal
April 25th, 1940
My darling Romey,
Your letter giving an account of the hockey match against Meham Ford was very exciting. It must have been a great game, and I’m awfully glad you did so well. You ought to have plenty of muscle about you one way and another what with hockey, gym, riding and swimming. Well. It is a jolly good thing in my opinion, and though I don’t get much exercise these days, I seem to be able to keep my muscles in fairly decent trim by doing exercises every day, and I don’t think I have got that floppy look which a good many women of my age seem to develop.
I was glad to hear too, that you had been “digging for victory”. It seems that the effort to get more and more ground under cultivation has made tremendous progress. It is a pity that growing crops for food needs so much labour and so much manure. It makes it a hard problem to face. I like the idea of being as self-supporting as possible immensely, but whether I should really like all the labour involved, I don’t really know. You see, I have lived now for twenty-six and a half years in a country where all the household work and cooking is done by Indian servants. All the same, I do not think I am a lazy person. It is probably a question of whether one can branch out successfully in a new line at my age. I am thinking ahead to the time when I come home, of course. I wonder whether we could make a success of keeping a few pigs. I have always had rather an odd liking for them. Why don’t people make their own bacon in these days? Is it a difficult thing to do? It seems that every farm smoked and cured their own bacon and hams not so many years ago.
It must be hot today, for I find I keep dropping my shoes off and sitting in bare feet. There is a thick Chinese carpet in this room of mine, which feels awfully nice to the touch. I think it is made of very soft wool. It will be a nice warm floor covering in a room in England in cold weather.
Mrs. Stanley, who was staying with me for the weekend, has had a little room in her flat Air-Conditioned. The machine was actually installed while she was here. It is a sort of polished wood cabinet about 3ft long by 3ft high and a foot wide, and the top is the grating where the cool air comes into the room. Mrs. Stanley had been wondering how her magnificent blue Persian Cat would like it. She writes that she had slept in the room, and found it all the advertisers claimed for it, and she was glad to report that Nillu (Blue One) the cat, having investigated the new bit of furniture very carefully, climbed on to it and lay down on top of the grating!
I am glad to hear that you were getting some riding at Miss Keilberg’s. Has all her Army work finished? Lately you have only spoken about ‘hunters’.
Best love my darling,
Mother
From LJT to Annette
Chinsurah
Bengal
April 25th 1940
My darling Annette,
Its sad that your poor feet gave you some trouble on the walking tour. Its very hard to keep ones feet normally in the condition when they will suddenly stand long days walking without developing blisters or some trouble. Rubbing the feet well night and morning with methylated spirit for some weeks before I think is good, and I always sprinkle boric powder liberally inside my socks each morning on the tour, but I think the most important thing of all is to have ones shoes or boots so big that one can wear a pair of thin socks or stockings as well as a pair of thick woolen ones inside them and still be able to move and wriggle each toe. It took me some years of bitter experience to learn this, and it is in some ways difficult, because it means that one needs a pair of shoes kept specially for such occasions, since they look so large and clumsy for ordinary wear, at any rate if one has fairly large feet to start with. The whole trip must have been rather fun all the same, and it must be amusing to meet such a variety of people. How mad it would have been considered when I was your age! I have been to most of the places you mention by car at one time or another, but not to Usk. I should imagine the country is lovlier when you see it on foot than when you dash through it in a car. I hope the tour refreshed you in mind and body and that you were able to start the new term feeling full of vim.
We have been wondering so much how the new taxation will effect Uncle and Aunt. I have written to Aunt to tell her that we hope they will let us know if they find life too much of a squeeze, for we can manage to help them a bit I think. How will you be affected? You will feel the increase in all sorts of little ways, in the price of things you buy I suppose. I think it is quite fair that we should all feel the price we have to pay for this war a bit, but if the bit is more than you can really cope with, let us know.
I had a lot of interesting talks with Mrs Stanley during the week-end. She thinks that it would be certainly worth your while to have a shot for the Civil Service, if there is any way of getting a chance of an exam or an interview, because even if you don’t get into the top grade, there are always people on the look out for the candidates who just miss, and consequently chances of other jobs. She also says that many of the high grade secretarial jobs are very interesting, but she thinks it is essential to go to one of the two or three special training places for the top grade type of secretary. A Jewish girl who has recently come from England because her parents are out here and wanted her with them, is working as Mrs Stanley’s Secretary for the S.P.C.A. now, and she trained at one of these places. Mrs Stanley says she is excellent, really too good for the job she is in. I will try to meet her sometime, and ask her about her training.
I wish I could speak French decently! I kept on getting stuck for words when I was talking to M Baron the other evening. If I could only make my self work at the gramaphone records, I could improve a lot I am sure, but there never seems time till the evening then one is a bit tired and inclined to relax. Besides there is so much I want to read, and I don’t often get time for more than the newspaper or a magasine before dinner. M. Baron’s confidence in the strength of the French army in Syria is rather comforting. I had not thought much about it, but had a feeling of much assurance from the arrival of the Anzacs in Palestine and Egypt. M. Baron says the French Colonial troops are splendid fighters and capable of enduring great hardships.
Discussing French films the other evening we could neither of us remember the name of “Pépé le Moko”, and then it suddenly floated into my head when I was in my bath the next morning! He seemed surprised when I said we had seen “Ignace” in Paris, and found it very amusing. He describes it as being “tres regionale”, if I remember right. I should have thought the sort of nonsense in it had an almost universal appeal!
To-morrow week I am going to see “Gone with the Wind”. Dad says he does not think he could stand four hours of any film. Its going to be here for a fortnight, so if I think it really outstandingly good, I may persuade him to go later.
Best love.
Mother