The Townend Family Letters

1940 August

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
August 2nd 1940

My darling Annette,

It was lovely to get some letters again yesterday, even though they were almost seven weeks old. I enjoyed getting your little note, written when you had just two more papers of your exam to do. It was nice of you not only to think of us, but to send us a tangible proof of your thought. It must have been a bit trying having to work in a heat wave. Romey tells me it was so hot in church that people were fainting like flies. Why dont people faint from the heat out here? Perhaps its because of the sudden change of temperature that heat affects people more in a cool climate, for certainly we often have to sit through ceremonies, such as school prize-givings and so, in heat far greater than anything Oxford could produce even during a heat wave I imagine.

Mokes has written a letter on the back of a post-card of herself that is so awful that it just makes me boil with rage! Even given her disabilities in the way of brain power, it seems to me monstrous that she should say or write the things she does. She deserves to be hauled up on front of some authority and to be told to keep her mouth shut and her pen controlled.

How quickly all the Canadian business must have been settled for Romey, for aunts letter is dated June 14th, and I cabled on June 17th and two days later got the answer that Romey was going to Canada. I am so thankful that Aunt acted with decision, and did not waste time cabling to and from to find out our opinion. How admirably sensible and level-headed she is!

Do you ever see the Spectator? In the number published the last week of June, there were some extremely sarcastic remarks by an American Professor about W.H.Auden, Isherwood and Heard, who have all gone to the U.S.A., saying that they dont approve of the War. He says he and many others hope to make it plain that they do not want men of that sort in America and that the sooner they get out, the better America will be pleased. His letter was quoted in one written to the Spectator by an Englishman, who commented that England did not want them either, and that if they tried to come back there would be plenty of people here ready to say “Get out”. John Auden, brother of the poet, and his Indian bride, are coming out here for the day on Sunday. John Auden is not at all of the same mind as his brother, and has been one of the most active of the members of the Geological Survey in the efforts of the British members of the Department, to get permission to join up. He prepared himself by learning to fly in the year before the War, but Idris Matthews says he doubts whether he would get into the R.A.F., because his eyesight is not very good, - - that is to say he always wears glasses when he is reading or working. I’d like to know what he thinks about his brother’s behaviour, but I suppose I cant very well ask him! Both Dad and I wonder so often what Gavin’s attitude now is. Its so hard to understand the Pacifists when the raging enemy, with a record like Hitler, is at the gates. Yesterday morning Professor Laski gave a talk in the “Britain Speaks” series, and spoke soundly and well. He says that as far as the prosecution of the War is concerned, there is no question of party now. He told how he went to address a huge meeting of thousands of workers, to explain to them the necessity of a tremendous drive with seven days a week and two extra hours work a day. When he had finished he asked any men who were not willing to fall in with the plan, to put up their hands, and only six did. A man near the front, who, during the early part of the speech had asked some pertinent questions, spoke up and said “Dont you worry about them, Professor. We’ll look after them”. He ended up with a tremendous tribute to Winston Churchill, saying that each time he has spoken since he became Prime Minister, he has spoken for the people of England, and for democracy. And he gave another tribute to Rooseveldt for his striking ability to express the principals of democracy.

There’s not much room left to send my love, but here it is From
Mother

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
August 3rd 1940.

My Dears,

At last letters have come from home, and what a joy it was to get them, even though they were almost seven weeks old. Grace’s letter was dated June 14th and posted at Great Leighs on that day. On the other hand the “Sphere” dated June 22nd also arrived here on August 1st. The home people had not heard of the proposal for Romey and John to go to Canada when these letters were written, but it must have been fixed up within the next few days, for I got the cable telling me about it on June 19th. I greatly look forward to hearing more details. It was most interesting hearing first hand personal impressions of the evacuation from Dunkirk. They all confirm what we have read in the papers and heard over the wireless. News was in our papers yesterday that the mails from England to India will now come part way by air, so we shall be getting home letters a little fresher.

In so far as we are concerned, this week has been much like last. I am still very busy over my new Guide Company. We had our first Rally on Wednesday last, and I have the impression that the girls are distinctly promising. They come from good class families, the lawyers, doctors, officials and educational classes of the town, and are obviously mostly intelligent, some of them outstandingly so. The beginning of the month is a busy time for the War Work too. I get up the new supplies of material and distribute it to the workers. I spent the whole of Thursday afternoon cutting out bandages for the European Group to make, and yesterday we had the Work and Knitting Sub-Committee of the Indian group here to cut out and weigh out wool, and do up the parcels and send them off with the necessary instructions. There are half a dozen very nice and quite capable Bengali ladies on this sub-committee, most of whom understand at any rate some English. I had them here from 3 till 5, and gave them some tea when we had finished our work. It is odd that when first I came here and enquired for Indian ladies who were willing to come out and be friendly, I was told there were none! Now oweing to the War Purposes Committee, we have found quite a number. Many people say it takes two years to get to know a district, and gain the people’s confidence, and that is about the time when Government chooses to transfer officers. You see, it is just over two years since we came here, and it is only now that the schools are asking me to start Girl Guide Companies, and that the ladies (a limited number) have come forward in a most friendly way to help with War Work. I hope when the War allows us to go, someone will come here to whom I can pass on an interest in the Indian ladies and the Guides.

I had a day in Calcutta on Tuesday, chiefly to have the “perm” to my hair which I had had to postpone on account of the cut on my head. It fitted in well for I was able to take down July’s completed quota of War Work, and pick up the fresh supplies. Also I had work for the Himalayan Club, and some errands at the girl guide Office. My morning was well filled, and I lunched with my ex-Russian Ballet friend, Christine Roslyn, before coming to rest for the necessary 2 hours or more at the hair-dresser. I gave up wearing my hair just rolled up round the edge of my head last Autumn, and grew it long enough to twist into a knob at the back of my head, but lately the knob has got much too big, so I had lots cut off, and my head feels so nice and light in consequence. Hair completed, I went to the United Service Club, where I met Mrs Stanley and Percy Brown, for a cup of tea, before going to the cinema to see “North.West Passage”. On the whole I thought it well done, and I suppose it was difficult not to alter the end of Book 1, which, (as you will know if you have seen the film) is as far as the film goes. Indeed I was almost glad they did, for I was thankful when the miserable Rangers did get food at the Fort! ! At the same time its a pity to play fast and loose with History, and the tale of Roger’s Rangers is history. It was a long film and we did not get out till 8 45, and by the time we had driven out to Mrs Stanley’s flat in Alipore, it was past 9 o’clock, and what with having dinner, and being too interested in the talk to tear myself away quickly, I did not leave till 10.30 and it was almost mid-night when I got home. Its very odd how ones feeling about hours being “late” or not, vary with the sort of life one is leading. All evening shows start so late in Calcutta, that one never gets home till past twelve o’clock if one goes out anywhere, and when one is living the ordinary Calcutta life it does not seem late at all. Here, where everyone goes to bed so early I feel I have stayed up till all hours if I come home at that hour.

Last Sunday evening I had a great treat. There is a young man at the Dunlop’s, who has the strange name of Arculus. He is a stocky little fellow, and mad about music. He has the whole of the “Magic Flute” on gramaphone records, and he asked me if I would like to hear them one day. I accepted with pleasure, and went to dinner with him last Sunday. We dined early and started the opera at 8:30- The records are made for the Mozart Society by the Glyndburn Opera Co, I think, and they are beautiful. Mr Arculus even had the libretto, with the German as sung on one side of the page, and the English translation in another column. There were also reproductions of the original sketches made for the different sets. The performance took almost 2 ½ hours. There are scraps of dialogue here and there which are not recorded, but which one can skim through while the kind friend changes the record! I enjoyed it enormously, and I hope in a month or two I shall be allowed to go and hear it again. Another friend of mine in Calcutta has the whole of don Giovanni done in the same way, and I hope I shall have a chance to hear that.

Japan’s recent behaviour is having certain repercussions in India I think. Some people who failed to think of the War as being any concern of theirs, are beginning to feel a little uncomfortable at the idea that hostilities might break out with Japan. I suppose all countries have and always do, display a certain amount of selfishness, but I feel that certain sections of the Indian public, especially in this province, have displayed rather more than is seemly or excusable.

Every day this week has been showery, but most of Bengal is short of rain, and will have bad crops unless more comes quickly. We are glad that it has been raining hard and more or less steadily since yesterday evening. I have thought the week very cool, and have seldom used a fan. Herbert, on the other hand says it has been hot! He was to have gone to Burdwan for a week yesterday, but the Chief Minister fixed a meeting for this morning in Calcutta, at which Herbert’s presence was absolutely necessary, so he had to postpone his visit to Burdwan till to-morrow. He has gone to Calcutta this morning. I have not gone with him, for I had not anything there I needed to do, and I wanted to write my mail. I am not going to Burdwan either, for I have so much to do here, and as Herbert is staying with the District Magistrate, a married Englishman, who has recently gone there. I knew he would not be lonely. I am taking the opportunity to have a Guide Rally in this house, at which we are going to enrol the two teachers who have trained as Guide Officers.

The small five-year old daughter of our Military Intelligence Officer often comes in here. At the moment she, and her nice Nepali ayah are sitting on the drawing-room floor looking at the three volume Natural History Books, which have amused many children in their time. They have a great many coloured pictures. I went in to see how the entertainment was going on just now, and found the two gazing at some pages giving dull black and white pictures of different types of fish. Christine looked up gleefully and said “I’m eating all these fishes!” Ayah evidently understands how her mind works better than I do, for I would never thought of such a game.

It feels so nice to know that the long gap between the Air Mail stopping and sea-born letters arriving, is over, and we can look forward to getting news with some regularity now.

Best love to you all
LJT

From LJT to Romey

Chinsurah, Aug 3rd, 1940

My darling Romey,

How nice it is to have a letter to answer at last, and how intriguing to read of your doings at Oxford, of a hot Sunday when people fainted in Church, and of a tennis match, and a day out with Rosemary Earle, and to know what a tremendous surprise was in store for you during the next few days! How tremendously far away Headington will seem by the time you get this! You will have moved into a totally different world!
There seems to be an undercurrent of water running through your letter, so to speak. You were always fond of water, even when others think it too cold, and I suppose the great heat made it seem doubly desirable. Your talk about people fainting in church has set me wondering why we don’t faint in church out here, or on such occasions as school prize-givings when we have to sit in a crowd for a long period of time. Certainly, our hot weather temperature must be much higher than anything Oxford can produce, even during a heat wave. It’s probably something to do with working up to high temperatures gradually, and getting ones blood thinned down.
What nice people the Forsters sound. I wish we could do something to show our appreciation of the hospitality they have shown you. I hope you won’t lose touch with Rosemary Earle, and perhaps, we shall be able to meet them all when the War is over.
It was awfully interesting in Aunt’s letter to hear personal experiences from Uncle Gerald, and things seen in Dover by Uncle Bill. I hope if Uncle G went to France a second time, that he got back safely again. It will be some time before we hear that.
There have been developments amongst our bird friends lately. I think we must have told you that one pair of mynahs have always looked upon one of the French windows in the dining room as their special property, and another pair take a different one. If intruders appeared, they were told off properly, for the mynah has nothing, if not a great command of language! Recently, these two pairs of mynahs brought their young families, gawky young birds, still with their youthful plumage, and every now and again, there would be some shouting and agitation, when the wrong children went to the wrong door. During the last few days it seems to us, as if the parent birds have severed relations with their children, who have now got their adult plumage, and that the young have joined up in a big troop. So anxious are they not to miss anything, that they are always waiting when we go down to meals, and swoop down on the crumbs at one, sometimes quite alarming the squirrels. Now and then there is a terrific uproar, and we think the parents come back, expecting to have the respective windows for their private beats as of old, only to find this undisciplined troop in possession, and not in the least prepared to listen to parental comments!
The squirrels have grown much tamer, too and Mogul says he has to keep the windows shut till just as we are arriving or else the squirrels are all over the table. Puchi, called the flea-dog (in reference to his size and not any inhabitants of his coat) --- by Dad, or occasionally “Doggerel”, is really very good and makes no attempt to chase the squirrels in the dining-room now. It really must need a lot of self-control on his part for he is a born little shikari. (hunter)

Best love, my darling, and all kind messages to Cousin Susie and to Helen and love to John,
Mother

From LJT to Romey

Chinsurah, August 9th, 1940

My darling Romey,

No fresh batch of letters have come this week, but then the ships arrive at all sorts of odd times, and I got a letter from Uncle Bernard two days ago, with an earlier date on it than was on the letters of the previous week from Highways.
Stirred to fresh interest in the Stairs family, and by the kindness of Cousin Susie (a member of that family) to you, I have been glancing at the Family History of the Stairs, of which Dad has a copy. I am rather ashamed that I have never read it, and am now determined to do so, but first I am going to get it re-bound, for its poor jacket is in a bad state. I see that the first person mentioned is Dennis Stairs, who moved from Belfast, Ireland, to Grenada in the West Indies, and whose wife died there in 1783. It was their son John Stairs, who migrated to Halifax, Nova Scotia and founded the Stairs family there. What a lot of different strains have met in you!
There is a far-away Scotch-Irish ancestor, who became Canadian on your paternal grandmother’s side! Your paternal grandfather came from an old Yorkshire family. The Townends seem to have been pretty solidly small North-country squires since the fifteenth century, to which the family tree goes back. On my side of the family, my father’s family were the same sort of small country squires back to about the same date in Worcestershire, Herefordshire, and Gloucestershire. I have just paused to look up a note about my ancestors, and find that the first man mentioned in the Bevington family tree is a certain Elias de Bevington, who owned a considerable amount of land in Gloucestershire in 1115, so the records go back earlier than I had remembered.
It is on my mother’s side that we get our touch of Welsh, for her mother was a Welsh woman, a Miss Rugge Price, whose father (or grandfather) was Sir Charles Rugge Price, once Lord Mayor of London. My mother’s father, Henry Currey came from near London, as far as I know, and the Curreys have a huge family tree, but I have never seen it. They seem to have been architects, soldiers, and sailors, whereas the later generations of Bevingtons, went in for trade, especially the lines connected with leather and fur. My father was a member of the Skinner’s Company, and he was taken away from school at the age of sixteen to learn the job of grading and sorting skins. Later in his life he had the reputation of being one of the best judges of leather in England. He made a lot of money as long as he stuck to his trade, and was a very wealthy man at the time of my birth, but he retired from business and began speculating, from then on he lost money steadily!
The Bevingtons were Quakers from very early times till my grandparent’s day, but my father was anything but Quakerish in his tastes. He loved a jolly life, lots of parties, good food and drink. He was very keen about amateur acting, and used to drive a coach-and-four. He had the reputation of being a good dancer and a first class skater, but those were all things of the past by the time I was able to sit up and take notice! I wonder whether all this will interest you at all. It has amused me, remembering the different elements that have gone to make up myself, and it’s been fun adding in the others that have gone to your making. I rather like to think that the qualities of reliability, which I think Aunt and I have, and which you and Annette have too, come, perhaps, from our Quaker ancestors.
Dad has been away most of the week, so I have had a bit more time for reading and thinking. I have been too busy to feel lonely, but I shall be glad to see him back this evening. I have been trying to teach Puchi not to yap at nothing, which he is fond of doing, especially after dark. He finds great pleasure in sitting on one of the verandahs with his head stuck out between the railings, and barking at imaginary trespassers in the garden. I have smacked him a number of times for it, and its amusing to see him now, creeping out, treading very delicately, and hoping I will not notice. When he yaps, and I call him angrily, he at first pretends not to hear, and in answer to more severe orders, he comes in with his ears down, a tearful look in his eyes, and slowly approaching, he sits down beside me, with his head on one side, and apologetically lifts up one paw. Much love, give our blessings to Susie and John, Love Mother

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
August 10th 1940

My Dears,

For the last three-quarters of an hour I have been trying to start this letter, but each time some fresh interruption comes. One such was the mali with the news that a corpse has landed up against our landing stage. In answer to my enquiry as to whether it had been partially cremated, he answered “no”, so I thought I had better let the police know, for even if its an accidental death from drowning, they should be informed. There are always a good many deaths from drowning at this season of the year, when great floods come in the rivers, and sudden squalls upset small boats.

Herbert went away last Sunday morning, and returned yesterday evening. He is always tired, poor dear, but in spite of the fact that he had had a very busy time in Burdwan, he is a trifle less weary now than he was when he left here. I have been too busy all the time he has been away to feel lonely, but the house always seems rather queer when he is out of it. I took advantage of his absence to have people up for the day on Sunday, to hold a Girl Guide Rally in the big drawing room on Wednesday, a tea-party on Thursday, and to have the two Missionary ladies to dinner that same evening. On Saturday night I took Elain Mackenzie, the daughter of our D.I.G. of police, to an entertainment in aid of the War Funds. It was at one of our local cinemas, and was very good. It was almost entirely music and dancing by an orchestra and half a dozen dancers from Uday Shankar’ School in Almorah. They were very good indeed. I like Uday Shankar’s School of dancing immensly. He has revived and revitalized the old classical and religious dancing of the early periods of Hindu culture, and added to them different country dances, and some modern compositions of his own, based on the old Indian movements. When he claims on the outside of his programme that he is dancing “The life of the people and their Gods”, I think it is true. In each half of the programme we had a sketch by a remarkably good Bengali Entertainer. His first one represented the events taking place at Burdwan Station while the passenger train is waiting to move off to Calcutta. Although it was mostly in Bengali and I could not follow it exactly, I found it extremely funny. He was a marvellous mimic and by the aid of a few properties such as different beards and moustaches, a velvet waistcoat, different sticks and changes in the shape of his puggeree, he took on in turn the shapes and manners of the different people arriving and squeezing themselves into the third class carriage meant for twelve and already holding seventeen. In the second half he did a thing which sounds so futile that its difficult to believe it was in any way interesting. He said he was going to show us the behaviour of a small spoilt boy. He just sat on a chair and started crying, and from the expression on his face, you could see that it was only being done to attract attention, and all the time he was listening to hear what effect it was having – Every now and again the crying would slacken a little, and then break out with renewed fury if he thought anyone was within earshot. Presently his father called out to him to be quiet, and the crying took on a new vigour. Since it seemed to be having no effect, it slackened off and an expression of surprise and annoyance came over his face, but evidently hearing his mother, he burst out again, and when she called, “What is the matter, my darling?” He burst into roars and paroxysms of simulated grief, and the curtain hid him from us. As a piece of close observation brilliantly reproduced, I think it ranked with Ruth Draper’s art.

We have been sharing the general pride in the fine fight of the R.A.F. against the Germans, over the Channel on Thursday, when they shot down 60 German planes. Really their skill and daring seem little short of miraculous. I have been able to listen to the Wireless a lot while Herbert has been away, stitching away at my bandages meantime, and I have heard some very interesting things, as well as a lot of good music, and the Play “Castle Rock” which came over the air exceedingly well, and which I found more interesting.

The newspapers in all other parts of the World seem able to express opinions about the Viceroy’s statement on the future of India, with much more certainty and aplomb than any paper or person here can do. I suppose we are rather miserably conscious that nothing can be done that will please all parties, for their wishes and ideals are fundamentally different. As a small example of this witness my old khansamah, Mogul. There was a bad railway accident between Dacca and Calcutta a few days ago, in which a number of people, all Indians, were killed, and a very large number injured. It was found that a rail had been removed not long before the train came along. No one knows why it was done. Mogul was enquiring about it, and clicking his tongue in that inimitable way that the Asiatic has, he said “It was the work of those Congress Wallahs. That Gandhi ought to be put in ‘pickel’”. From the tone of his voice, I feel sure that he would have liked to be given the job of rubbing the salt and pepper and lime juice, and other spices, into the object of his dislike! The fact that the Mahatma is the last person to wish railway trains full of unoffending (or offending) people to be overturned, makes not the slightest difference to Mogul. It does seem to me that Gandhi has lately slipped away from his adherence to absolute truth, an attitude which was now and again proving so awkward for his followers, and is becoming the wily politician again. I have asked a number of Indians what they think of the announcement, but all the answers I have received are vague in the extreme. It won’t be till next week that we shall hear more of the reactions of the Congress Leaders and of the Muslim League. I find I try to take some real interest in these affairs that matter so much to India, but the interest is so pale and thin compared with any news connected with the War, that it has the unreality of a ghost.

Mrs. Chakravarty (our Collector’s wife) lost her mother very suddenly and had to go off to Allahabad, where her people live, on Sunday. However, very unlike most Indians, she controlled her own grief, and sat down to write me instructions about all the affairs to do with the Indian Ladies War work, which she is really running, before she went off. This is a great tribute to her character, for most Indian women simply drop any sort of public work without a word, if any family troubles arise. She was educated from the age of six in a convent, and from all those years of close contact with Europeans, she seems to have grown into the European attitude completely. Her husband, though he was at Oxford, and though he is a nice fellow, has got a far more Indian attitude to things. She and the other Indian ladies have worked hard at collecting, and we were able to send 1,582 rupees to the fund for purchasing a Fighter Plane. We shall not get anything like as much this month, of course.

M. and Madame Baron from Chandernagore came here for tea on Thursday. They have heard nothing from France, and she has no idea whether her brothers are alive or dead. Their position if likely to become even more difficult if the rumour that the Vichey Government are replacing the Governor of French India in Pondicherry, by one of their men, is true, but nothing is yet known for certain. I feel so sorry for them, poor things.

During the last three or four weeks I have seen more of the Indian ladies in this place, than during the whole of the two previous years. The War Purposes Committee and the Girl Guides have both brought me in contact with them. I have always been told that there were no women here who were at all educated or willing to go out, but actually quite a little group have turned up, with some very nice ones amongst them. They soon get used to one and cease to be shy, if indeed they are so to begin with.

We had rather fun with the Guides here on Wednesday, and I think both the Guide Company and the Bluebird Flock, have made a good beginning.

The paper is going to run out in a minute I know, and I dont want to start a new page, so I will make my farewells, and send you all my love. LJT

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
August 10th 1940.

My Darling Annette

At the moment I am feeling slightly and temporarily worried, because there are several things upon which I have got to get Dad’s opinion and a form he has to fill in, and since he is both tired and busy, its a problem to know how to get him to attend to his own affairs. I often wonder what would have happened to his own affairs if he had not married. I suppose he would not have got into the habit of relying on someone else to do them.

Have you seen “Castle Rock”.? As I mentioned in the family letter, I listened to it over the Air the other evening. It was certainly interesting. It was especially suitable to the radio because each of the people recreated in the lighthouse-keeper’s mind, had a distinctive accent, so there was no difficulty in telling who was speaking. Listening to this play made me wonder more than ever why the people acting specially for the radio, over-emphasise all they say to such a degree. To me their mannerisms make the radio plays impossible to listen to. Here is “Castle Rock,” where the ordinary players, speaking just as they do on the stage, and the effect was excellent. I remember the same thing when I listened in to the middle act of Charles Morgan’s “Sparkling Stream” in 1938. That was relayed direct from the theatre as far as I remember, and it was most striking. Why then all this mouthing and affectation when speaking for plays especially done for broadcasting? I dont understand it.

The week by myself in this house has been rather enjoyable, in a way, (without meaning any insult to Dad!) It is a change sometimes to be able to do things according to ones own whim of the moment, without having to consider the reactions of someone else. The odd thing about living along is that one seems to have more time for everything. I suppose meals take much less time, and one does’nt have to wait about for anyone. I did a thing I have never done before, and which I fear must be a sign of advanced age. I had the Barons, the Wright-Nevills and Chakravarty to tea on Thursday, and they stayed talking till just past seven. I had enjoyed their company, but when they had gone, I felt pleased to be quiet and looked forward to listening to a concert on the wireless at 7.24. I slipped off and had a quick bath, and put on a thin crepe afternoon frock and went back to my chair by the Wireless and the concert. I told the under-khitmatgar to say I would have dinner at 8 o’clock. At 8, he came in rather apologetically and said “The Outside ladies have not come” Then, and only then, did I remember that I had asked the two missionaries to dinner. The dinner was all ordered and the servants had not forgotten, and luckily I had told the guests not to put on evening dress, so no harm was done except to my own feelings. Dad does not find these sort of people very enlivening so it was a good opportunity to have them to a meal while he was away.

The little man who has the “Magic Flute” records has lent me a book on Mozart’s Operas. I have only read a few pages, but in those few I have found some comfort. They are on the subject of listening to music, and the writer very definitely states that much music does not express any concrete picture or definite idea that could be expressed in words. I have often felt that I ought to be able to know in words, what music meant or expressed, and thought because I did not, but only felt it as being satisfying (or the reverse!) that I must therefore be unmusical. Perhaps after all, I am not so much so, in spite of the fact that I am incapable of singing in tune. I am looking forward to reading this Mozart book but want to finish another book on America. “America Comes of Age”, a translation from the French of Siegfried, before Monday, when I go in to Calcutta and want to take it back to Edward Groth, who lent it to me.

We are hoping for letters again any day now, for its ten days since we got the last batch

Best love, my dear From
Mother

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
August 16th 1940

My darling Annette,

We are having another long pause between letters. Its more than two weeks since the last lot arrived, but we have had the excitement of an air mail from Romey. Its funny getting news in this topsy turvy way! Dad has actually applied for six months leave from early October, and though he has had no reply yet, I am sure he must get it. He will ask for it on medical certificate if necessary. My mind is rushing off in all directions, making plans about this and that, delighted that Dad is going to take a rest, but on the reverse side, feeling badly about holiday-making myself when there must be so much work to do in Britain. I cant honestly say that I think the little odds I have been doing out here make the slightest difference, and I can always knit where-ever I am!

Warmed up by the duty-free champagne at the Barons’ farewell cocktail-party at Chandanagore yesterday, I got involved in an animated conversation with two young I.C.S. men, in which you were the central topic. One of them, Mr Rogers, the S.D.O. from Serampore, somehow remembered that you had been doing Schools, and asked whether we had heard the result. He and the other lad are young enough to remember closely their own exam days. Further more Mr Rogers speaks French rather well, and we drifted on to talk about how best to learn languages. You drifted in and out of the conversation just as if you were an old friend of theirs as well as mine.

To-day I find myself realizing every now and again that there is a bit of my mind lying only just below consciousness that is absorbed with the wonder about what is going on at this moment in England. Are more major Air Battles in progress? Is Hitler attempting invasion? I dont know that I should describe the feeling as exactly anxiety, though of course there is a thread of personal anxiety running through the background of all ones thoughts these days. One does think and wonder “Has H.M.S. Daedalus been attacked? Has Richard come to any harm? How are things going in Essex?” and so on, including very often the thought “where is Annette?”

17.8.40. Interrupted yesterday, and so many things have turned up this morning to stop me writing, that I fear my mail is going to be rushed. Is’nt it annoying when you get a book which you feel has something interesting to say, but says it badly and takes too long about it? One such has just been lent me by Edward Groth, and he’s keen I should read it. Its evidently impressed him, for he has marked it liberally and put in marginal notes here and there. It is called “The Open Way” “A study in Acceptance”, and it is by two psychiatrists, Dr Graham Howe, and Mrs Le Mesurier. I have read about half the book, and as far as I can see it is dressing up in new and elaborate clothes the old doctrine that one cannot get rid of faults satisfactorily by smothering them or tearing them out with violence, but one must recognise and accept the fact that they are there, and try by gentle and gradual methods to grow out of them. (I got lost in that sentence! That is the worst of a typewriter. One is much more apt to lose the thread of ones grammer.) The Central thought is, I firmly believe true, but I cant help thinking that it has been better said by other people before this. There is a great deal about non-violence too that is difficult to accept, with Hitler doing his best to bomb England to bits. These non-violent passages are ones that are heavily marked. I dont know if Edward is by way of being a pacifist. I know he was much bitten with Krishna Murti’s addresses, which advocate non-resistance to everything, as far as I remember. There should be the basis for a good discussion here!

The paper is running out as well as my time! How fervently I hope you are somewhere with an adequate Air Raid Shelter! Bless you my dear, and as always my best love
Mother

From LJT to Romey

Chinsurah, August 16th, 1940

My darling Romey,

Your Air Mail letter written on July 24th arrived in Calcutta on August 13th! Such excitement, for we never expected anything so soon. It so happened that I was in Calcutta, and Uncle Harry knew that I should be calling in at the United Services Club between 5:30 and 6 pm, so he kindly sent a messenger with the letters to the Club, so I should get yours as quickly as possible. It really was lovely to hear such comparatively fresh news of you and John. As to my impressions from the letter, I think my first is surprise at the great heat! I knew that many parts of Canada do have a very hot spell, but I did not know that the mercury rose to 100% in the shade! Why, it’s hotter than we are having it here! I’ve just been to look at the thermometer in the bedroom, and it shows the temperature at exactly 90%. It is true it is unusually cool this morning after heavy rain last night, and it is also true that combined with heat, we have tremendous humidity, whereas I expect in Winnipeg the air is fairly dry.
How funnily one’s mind jumps about. Mine just carried me back to thinking of times when you were a little baby thing, and existed in great heat, and suddenly I got a vision of the famous occasion about which I must often have told you, when you insisted in sleeping in fur gloves during the passage down the Red Sea, because you were determined to give up sucking your thumb or finger, and so win the prize of a special doll on which you had set your heart.
It is grand that the journey all went off well, and now I’m just longing to get your letter describing it, which has gone by sea mail. I hope you had a smooth crossing, and were not sick. I am glad to hear that you have got a couple of new frocks. In thinking of your expenses, I reckoned that you would need quite a lot of new clothes. I am still more glad to hear that you and John hope to fix up some riding. It will be awfully interesting to hear whether you find a difference in the style in Canada. Has the deep cowboy saddle and the straight leg fashion dominated the ordinary riding?
It seems to me a good plan for you to go to the University of Manitoba, for apart from anything else, it will give you the chance of meeting young people of your own age. I hope it will be possible to fix it up. It would be a much better experience for you than just doing a course in economics, which presumably would not add much to the social side of life.
It must have been tantalizing to you not to have the opportunity of bathing when the weather was so hot. By the time you get this I suppose the chill of Autumn will be setting in, and then the intense cold of the winter. I wonder how you will like it. I’d love to hear what John has to say to the other boys! I wonder if he spins wonderful tales of what he has seen and done?
What about a birthday present for you this year? I imagine there will be lots of skating, so would you like a pair of proper boots and nice skates? It might be a good thing to buy them in advance. I don’t know when the skating season begins. Annette said that you were uncomfortable on the ice last year in shoes, and that is not to be wondered at, for few people can skate in shoes. When you have got over the initial difficulty, I expect you will love it.
May I congratulate you on the writing in your letter? It looks so nice and seems to have become a real grown-up hand now. Does Cousin Helen actually broadcast for the CBC or is she one of the big staff who must be behind the scenes or “off the air” in all broadcasting concerns? I must say I have become a great radio fan lately, as you may have gathered from my letters. I have discovered that six minutes past six a.m. with us, is eight o’clock pm Eastern Standard Time of America or Canada. What time does Winnipeg keep in relation to EST?
Dad is so out of sorts, I don’t think he’ll ever pick up in this country. It’s a pity Canada is too far off and too cold in winter for Dad.

Best love, my darling and love to Susie, Helen and John,
Mother

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
August 17th 1940
Family Letter

My Dears

Somehow this has been a very busy week for me, and full of keen interests. Primarily there are the great Air Battles over England, for news of which we listen with pride, delight in the skill of the R.A.F and anxiety for those in danger, and about the damage done. In our little personal world there is the fact that I have persuaded Herbert to ask for six months leave. For some weeks I have been slowly reaching the conviction that he cannot carry on much longer without a longish holiday in a good climate. He evidently knows this in his heart too, for I know he would not have agreed to my suggestions if he did not feel the real necessity himself. Our idea is to go off at the beginning of October to New Zealand. We can’t get home. Canada is too far, and there are difficulties about sending money to Canada or America, - - also I think the Canadian Winter would be too cold for Herbert in his present state of health, - - also we don’t know what Japan may do, and we don’t want to be cut off from India! We can get passages on a Small Dutch Line that carries both cargo and passengers from Calcutta to Batavia. From Batavia we can get one of the Dutch boats which run from Singapore to New Zealand and Australia, or we could fly to Singapore. Boats don’t fit well, and we should have to spend nearly a month in Java, but I think that would be nice! I have not discussed it with Herbert yet. He has not had a reply about his leave, but I think they will have to give it to him. If they dont, I know he can get it on medical certificate. He hates the thought of taking a prolonged holiday while this grim war is going on, but it’s no use trying to hang on till he cracks and ruins his health for good. I too, dislike the idea of holiday-making while there is so much work to be done (I dont flatter myself that the odd bits of war work I do here, matter one way or another) but it would be quite useless to send Herbert off for a holiday by himself. If it all comes to pass, perhaps I shall find some work to do in New Zealand. It might be wise of you to address our letters c/o Grindlay & Co. 6 Church Lane Calcutta, because they only get delayed one post if we are still here, and there is better certainty about them being sent on properly, if we have left. I shall, of course, let you have addresses to which to write as soon as anything is settled. Its going to be an elaborate packing up for me, because I want so to arrange things, that should, by any happy and not expected chance, the war be over, before our leave is up, then we need not return to India, but could make our way home via America and Canada. Please bare in mind that none of this is definitely settled.

Its been an enormous joy to get Air-Mail letters from Romey and Cousin Susie this week. They were written on July 24th and reached Calcutta on August 13th. Its a long time since we had any other home letters. I expect we shall suddenly get a big bunch.

I began last week by spending two days in Calcutta. At least I went to lunch with friends in Dum-Dum on Monday, and then on into Calcutta where I met Mrs Hance and took her to see the film “Florian” which has all the lovely pictures of the Royal Stud of the famous white horses belonging to the Emperors of Austria. I stayed the night with Harry and Winsome, and was busy all day on Tuesday, with my usual sort of ploys, finishing up with a Himalayan Club Committee meeting at 6 o’clock, and dinner at the Saturday Club with Charles Crawford and one or two other people afterwards. Herbert and I played Box & Cox for I got home about midnight on Tuesday, and he went off to Burdwan after lunch the following day, to finish the inspections he had not been able to complete the previous week. He got back yesterday evening. Meantime I have been busy with a Girl Guide Rally, with going into all sorts of figures relating to how much money we shall need a) in England and b) in Canada and c) for our trip to New Zealand if it comes off. There has been a rush of Himalayan Club Work. A number of people are planning short holidays in the mountains in order to keep fit, for , of course, few people are taking leave out of India, unless they are very unfit.

M. and Mme. Baron from Chandernagore dropped in to see me on Wednesday evening, with the news that they have been recalled to Pondicherry. They do not know why, and the telegram said it was provisional, so they hope perhaps they may come back later on. There have been rumours that a “Petain Man” is being sent to take over from the present Governor of French India, who declared himself a follower of de Galle and the Free Frenchmen. It would be a bit difficult for a tiny dot of country like Chandanagore to declare itself in any way hostile to the British. It would not be easy for Pondicherry either. The Barons asked me and Major and Mrs Wright Neville, who happened to have dropped in here at the same time, to go to a farewell cocktail party at their house on Thursday. It was a nice little gathering, and I do so admire the Barons, for they both remain cheerful, and brave, and it must be terrible for them. They have no news from France. Madame Baron, whose two brothers were with the French Northern army does not know whether they are alive or dead. My mind cannot grasp what it must be like to be a loyal free Frenchman, and to see and know how certain elements in the country have behaved!

Herbert got back from Burdwan yesterday evening, and I am sorry to say he has picked up a heavy cold, which is making him feel even more rotten than he was before. I will be very glad to get him away. Everything is now a heavy burden to him, and he is always so tired, he scarcely knows how to carry on.

Idris Matthews will be back in Calcutta to-morrow, and it will be nice to see him again. The Ordanance Dept are going to function down here instead of away on Simla’s Hill tops and in New Delhi’s extravagant retirement. It will be funny if the necessities of war drive home to the authorities the fact that its a mistake to have Government divorced from the life of the country.

To jump from the Great to the Trivial, I must tell you that I have had a present of eighteen most engaging little gold fish and black fish, with very frilly tails and fins. They look so pretty in the lily tank. I hope they will do well there. They are much more amusing than the one monsterous one which I inherited, and which died recently.

Best love to you all, my dears. All the time you are at the back of my mind, and I constantly wonder how the Air War is affecting each one of you.

Best of luck!
LJT

From LJT to Romey

August 18th, 1940

My darling Romey,

Letters from Aunt dated the 5th and 12th July respectively and yours of June 26 the all reached us by the first of the ‘New’ Air Mail deliveries this morning. It was really thrilling to hear of your departure--poor dears! What difficulties and excitements you had. How merciful that you and Aunt are both fairly calm people. I bet Aunt was glad when she heard that you were safely on the right ship. You must have had some anxious moments. I am glad to hear that you felt as you did about leaving England. I can sympathize very deeply with your feeling that you think it unfair that you should be safe, while other people are facing danger, for I have that feeling so strongly myself. However I am glad you were able to appreciate the other side of the case --- the relieving of our anxiety about and your usefulness in being able to look after John. I think it was right for you to go.
It is interesting to realize that you can scarcely remember a time when most of your time was not spent at Boarding school, but I can see that it would be so. Well “God be praised that man is hurled from change to change unceasingly, His Soul’s wings never furled”--as said my friend Robert Browning. You are certainly having a change at the moment. It is strange when one phase of ones life passes. After a while, one can look back on it almost as if one were a different person, and yet, when one looks a little deeper, one can see the seeds of all one has since become. We come to the Hindu “dharma” -- the doctrine that every action must bear its fruit.
I like you to ramble on in your letters. I do it a great deal in mine. The more you do it, the more like writing can become to talking and the easier it makes it to write back again.
There were lots of other interesting bits of news in your letter and in Aunt’s two letters. We do like hearing the everyday things that are happening to the people we know and love during these strange momentous days in England. I’m awfully glad that Frank and Joyce have come round to a more reasonable frame of mind about the Nazis. I am sure it will be a relief to Uncle and Aunt, for I think their former attitude worried Uncle especially. How strange it is--the way things work out. From the papers it seems that fewer bombs are being dropped in Essex than in most other parts of England, and we thought it would be one of the places that was likely to get the most constant and heaviest attacks.
Were I to post this in to Calcutta today, I think it would catch the Canadian Air Mail letter sent earlier, but might be overweight, so I am just sending via England.
Bless you, my dear, for being such a sensible child and dear love to you. Love also to Cousin Susie, Helen and John. We think of you all so often.

Mother

Family letter from HPV

August 18th, 1940 Chinsurah, Bengal

My Dears,

This day there have come in letters from home. Three sets among which the Peevies were represented by one letter from Romey, written before she left for Canada, but filling a gap. So that is that, and with quiet minds we can return to things of less importance. Me, I am lying in my bed, sorry for myself, with a heavyish cold, typing with one finger.
What undoubtedly is wrong, though, is my having been Inspecting in Burdwan. An Inspection means that, in addition to one’s ordinary work (which I find these days is as much as I can manage) one puts in five hours looking through registers and case-records, besides having all sorts of whatnots drifting in to ask this and that. I have come to the conclusion, announced long ago by my dear wife, that it is no use trying to go on like this, and I have written to the Chief Secretary asking if I may have six or seven months leave. I regard this as surrender and am annoyed by it; but I shall be still more annoyed if the reply is no.
Now I perceive that I should never have married the princess, which is an allegory. I shall never now get worked out my beautiful figures about the yield of paddy in these parts and the cost of cultivating it. You ask, doubtless, “And who will be the worse for that?” and rightly of course, if you thereby mean to cast contempt on them, but I should have liked to straighten them out and to leave them in a usable form. Now it means that the work done or half-done on them has been wasted. A verdict which applies, though, to most of the work being done in India --or, say, in Bengal. The real object of the work done now is to give the politicians matter for talk about what they mean to do, if ever they get round to doing it.
The three year old daughter of the District Magistrate of Burdwan was explaining that her hair looked wet, not because she had been bathing, but because it had been in the sun and itched, so they had oiled it. I said (and truly) “It looks like fried onions, doesn’t it?” and added quickly that I liked fried onions. What more can I say? That the squirrels have been many and bolder than before, coming into the dining-room to avoid the pressing attentions of the many, mostly young, mynahs; that it is hard to get monkey-nuts for them these days and that they contemplate a sit-down strike for better food? That battalions of frogs march in at night? -- but that is an over-statement. That the stars have not appeared much, and when they do show, seem to have the hell of a twist on them? -- that is a sober fact, but it is probably due to my not liking to look straight overhead. Also the cloud obscuring the links between them. It is not too easy to spot what constellation it is when half of it is covered. And it is not easy to remember how different groups stand in relation to one another. Or to remember the names of a lot of individual stars, unless one knows their meaning.
It is a cool day, I am told. Lying in bed in pajamas and without a sheet, under a fan, too, I feel sticky. But I suppose that cool it is, in a way. I have put the typewriter on my stomach, because it was cramping to write lying on one side, but the remedy is a failure. Better to stop. Some day I my find something new to write about, or some new way of writing about something old. Maybe.

Meanwhile, much love.
Dad

From HPV to Rosemary

August 22nd, 1940 Chinsurah

My dear Rosemary,

Your airmail letter came in yesterday morning. As is apparent to you from the fact that I am writing, your mother is in Calcutta. She left yesterday before the post came in and so I sent on the letters to Winsome, with whom she is staying.
The university idea is practical and there is much merit in studying for its own sake, disciplining the mind. It does not matter particularly what subject is studied, so long as you aim at a high standard, but some subjects show up at once any slackness, while others defeat attempts to vamp them or to fudge. Things like English literature seem particularly prone to tempt people into delusions that they are doing something good, when they are not, but prosing on like this will not be of any help to you.
We have had a certificate that I may retain my Canadian securities (though I may not sell without permission) and so the problem of financing your stay in Canada now becomes much easier. It was a shock to find how little I knew about the securities and how slack I have been about sorting out those which ought to be covered by the marriage settlement and those which should not, not that it matters unless there arises urgent necessity for raising some capital.
There will now be the further problem of arranging for money in Australia and New Zealand and on the way there, for I have had to incline myself before the evidences, like Robert in the Dame aux Rubans Mauves and to admit that I must take some long leave outside India. Not that I am ill, but I can raise no strength. As soon as I tackle extra work, I crack, and I have to tackle the District Inspections if I stay on. If it were not that I am not in much of a state to face cold, the opportunity might have been taken to visit Canada, but somewhere warm, as well as dry, is required. So your mother thought of New Zealand where it will be summer before long. I regard the thought of a holiday with some dismay, for I cannot imagine how I can occupy myself; the fascinations of a whittling stick are soon exhausted. Golf, I have abandoned, tennis also. Had I not lost all belief in the possibility that anything will ever be done in this country, I might have visited irrigation works or re-forestation areas, but these are off now. However, I may feel more optimistic about this when I have thrown off the cold with which I returned from Burdwan.
I spent Sunday in bed, giving out that I was not up to anything else, but the reason was really that if I am anywhere about it is impossible to fend off visitors and urgent files. There is an announcement on the wireless this evening that Government officials must avoid pompous phrases; it the specimens quoted are genuine, there was need for it, but India does not offend in this manner. Except in the use of “the answer is in the negative” and so on when questions are being answered in the equivalent of Parliament. Such tripe is talked by people about Government servants, formality in official correspondence is no bad thing, because it makes one say exactly what one means, an important matter.
Lately we have had swarms of squirrels and of mynahs at breakfast and lunch. A lot of young ones are very bold; within limits they are amusing. Which is more than this letter is, but it is meant only to prove affection and remembrance.

Much love,
Dad

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
August 24th 1940

My darling Annette,

We had such interesting letters from Aunt last week, written on the 5th and the 12th of July, and reaching us via the combined Air and sea mail. They told us of Romey’s and John’s departure, and gave a tantalizing hint of your work, with the addition “but Annette will have told you all about this. All we know is that you are working in some Government Department at Bletchley, and that Pam and Betty are in the same office. I am puzzled for in a letter some time ago from Uncle Bous he said that he was working at Tring, and that they were living at Ascott (spelt like that with 2 ts) and that the girls were in a Government Office about 7 miles away. I cant find any Ascot except the Ascot, and that certainly is more than seven miles from Bletchley. I expect there’s a letter somewhere on its way to us now that will tell us all about it. Rumour has it that one of the big P&O s with several weeks mail on board, is due in Bombay just about now, so we are hoping for a big feast of letters soon.

If there is an air mail to New Zealand, it is sure to be pretty expensive, so if Aunt uses it, I hope you and Richard will arrange to send her letters on very thin paper, which she can forward. If its very costly I think it might be used every fortnight. I would rather get reasonably fresh letters once in two weeks than ones two months old, every week.

Its interesting that Romey finds herself mentally much older than the girls of her own age that she has met in Canada. I always thought that you were mentally old for your years, but I would not have thought that Romey was. She is reliable, of course, in a sense, always has been, but that seems to me a different sort of thing. You can have mentally very old people who are extremely unreliable, I am sure. Lord Byron has for some reason popped into my mind, but I have a suspicion that he was not really mentally mature!

Apropos of the proposal that Romey should become a student of the University of Manitoba, (which I think is good) Cousin Susie says that in the Arts Course, which is what they seem to think would be best for Romey, there are two obligatory subjects, and three selections. Science and Modern Languages would come under the latter. I wonder what the obligatory ones are. It will be interesting to hear what Romey chooses. I hope she will manage to keep up her French. The whole University standard must be a good deal lower than it is in England, especially at oxford and Cambridge. Louise Ranken, who has been connected with University life in America, not only through her own studies, but also through her father and her first husband, told me that it was so in America, and so its likely to be the same in the rather new parts of Canada. Its amusing that Cousin Susie thinks her 20 year old house, very old.

From other remarks in Aunt’s letter, I gather that whatever your job is, it is keeping your nose to the grindstone! I hope the work is interesting. I am hoping to hear from you about financial arrangements soon, for I want to make definite arrangements about the amounts of money to be send home. If the job you have taken is a voluntry one you will need a good deal more that £100 a year. I have had to do a lot of fiddling about with figures, to see how much pay we shall get while we are on leave. We shall have about two months on full pay and the rest on half pay. I have to fix up for 1) payments to us in New Zealand 2) Payments to Romey in Canada, and 3) payments into our English account for you and Richard and Aunt.

When I can still my conscience or some part of me that know an able bodied woman like myself should be doing some work for the war, I feel excited and full of pleasurable anticipation about our visits to Java and to New Zealand!!

Best love, my dear, and we long for news!
Mother

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah

Bengal

August 24th 1940

My Dears,

Herbert has permission to take six months leave, and our plans are going forward satisfactorily, and things seem to be fitting well.  The Dutch boat on which we shall go to Batavia, far from being a small cargo steamer, is one built recently for the Round-the-World Service. And Mrs. Van Aken, wife of the man who is both Dutch Consul in Calcutta and also head of the Dutch-Java shipping lines, tells me that she is a beautiful ship, and has a bathroom to every 1st class cabin.  She will leave about the 8th October, which will allow Herbert to go to Darjeeling for the Commissioner’s Conference, and get back to Calcutta with a couple of days to spare, which we can spend with Harry and Winsome.  It also means that we can have the Puja holidays tacked on to our leave and so get thirteen days extra on full pay.  We shall have to spend three or four weeks in Java, but we shall like that.  In all probability we shall only spend one night in Batavia and then go up to a place in the hills called Soekaboemi (pronounced Sukabumi) where our dear friends Mary Ow-Wachendorf and her mother, Baroness Giskra, are living.  We shall probably spend most of our time there, making some expeditions to see the craters of some of the many volcanoes, and perhaps visiting some of the historic temples.  En route for Batavia, we call at Penang and then at Belawan-Deli in Sumatra.  Between Batavia, we call at Samarang, Sourabaya in Java; Port Moresby and Samarai in New Guinea, Raboul (I don’t know where) and Port Villa and Noumea in New Britain and New Caledonia respectively. Our course takes us amongst islands and reefs all the time, and is said to be extremely fascinating.  We shall arrive in New Zealand about the 20th November, and our address will be c/o the Bank of New Zealand, Wellington.  Whether the air mail to Australia goes on to New Zealand, I have not yet found out, nor whether the K.L.M. Dutch air mail service to Batavia from Calcutta connects with an airmail from England. By the time this reaches you I dont suppose there would be time for letters to reach us in Batavia anyhow, so I expect we shall just have to make up our minds to do without letters till we get to New Zealand.  If you should have anything urgent to tell us, you will have to send a D.L.T. or cable to the Java Bank Batavia.  As nearly as we can tell, we shall be in Java from about the 20th October till about the 16th November.  When I was in Calcutta during the week, I rang up Edward Groth to tell him of our proposed plans, and he sent me round no less than eight books on Java and the Dutch East Indies.  Luckily three of them are almost entirely photographs, but I shan’t have time to do  more than skim the remaining five!  I spent Wednesday and Thursday in Calcutta and had a busy and interesting time.  A Girl Guide Committee meeting took up most of Wednesday morning, and what was left of it, I devoted to Himalayan Club work, and left shopping till after lunch.  At 4 o’clock I went to see the two weeks old son of the Himalayan Club Treasurer, and to my great delight found that the mother of the babe, who was a trained Secretary before she married, and who is a most capable girl, is willing to take on the Secretaryship, which I have to relinquish after something like seven years, during which time the Himalayan Club has increased enormously in numbers and scope of activities.  Next I met Mrs Stanley at the Saturday Club for tea, and to get from her some information about New Zealand, for she has a sister there, and spent one leave from India there.  She is always such good company as well as being a most practical person about everything.  I stayed the night with Harry and Winsome but was dining out with Arthur Moore, the Editor of “The Statesman” before going on to a variety entertainment in aid of War Charities.  It was a charming dinner both as to the company, the talk and the food.  Arthur Moore is in some ways the best host in Calcutta, I think.  He gives smallish parties of carefully selected people, and there is always good talk round his table, and good food on it!  The next day was full of jobs for the Himalayan Club, interviews with the Bank and with Grindlays shipping Department, and buying fruit and vegetables in the New Market.  At four o’clock I met Mrs van Aken at the Saturday Club and we had a great talk about Java, where she has spent a good part of her life.  Later I met Idris and we went to the 6 o’clock cinema to see the comedy of “Irene” which we both enjoyed.  It was nice seeing Idris again, and he seems glad the Department has moved to Calcutta.  He said it was maddening in Simla that they could not get at any of the people from whom they wanted information except by letter, or bad and expensive long distance telephone.  After dinner I came home, sleeping soundly in the car most of the way.  There are a thousand things to think of and arrange now, and I am going to be very busy for the next few weeks till we go.  I hope the weather will stay as comparatively cool as it is at present, but rather fear it wont, for September is often one of the nastiest months of the year, when the Rains slack off, the winds drop and the sun shines and everything steams!

Last Saturday night there was a dance got up by the Serampore Subdivision and held in the dance room of the Angus Jute Mills Club.  I took a party and we enjoyed it. One girl and a young man came up from Calcutta and I invited another young man from the Dunlop Rubber Co to balance Elaine MacKenzie, while Walter Jenkins looked after me.  The new Administrator of Chandanagore was there with M. and Madame Baron.  He is a tall, rather stout man, quite young still, and amusing to talk to, but - - ! he only speaks French.  However, it has a most tonic effect on my ability to speak, if my companion knows no English, and we got on quite well.  Whether he is in sympathy with the Men of Vichy, I dont know, but we threw darts at a target representing Hitler, with great vigour, failing, I am sorry to say to hit him full on the moustache, when we should have got our money back.  He and M. Baron came to pay a formal call of “Hail and Farewell” on Monday morning, and he and Herbert found a bond in a mutual liking for de Croisset’s books.  We are genuinely sorry to part from M. and Madame Baron, for they are charming people, and have behaved so well all through this terrible time.  I hope they will not suffer too greatly for their loyalty to the British.

We had hoped to have the Rankens with us this week-end, but poor Louise has gone down with an attack of Dengue, a type of fever common in Calcutta especially at this time of year, which is much like ‘flue, but the aches in the bones are worse, and as the fever breaks, a rash comes, which looks rather like measles, and lasts about a day.  Louise is one of the people to whom I shall be most sorry to say good-bye, and I greatly hope that even if we do not return to India, we shall meet again somewhere.

Herbert’s cold ran the usual course of such things, and has gone now but for a slight cough, - - nothing more than a tickle in the throat.  I think the knowledge that he is going away, has made him feel a bit better.  He can now see the point up to which he has to carry on his effort, but can feel after that that he can relax completely!  Oh!  How I hope this holiday will really do him good!  At the moment he is too tired to take any interest in plans, but I think he will enjoy seeing the places when he is rid of his work, and has had time to rest.  I am so thrilled at the thought of seeing so many new places and so many sorts of lives, and I feel almost guilty about it, for so much of the world is suffering so terribly that it seems wrong for an individual to be toying with such pleasure plans.  However our reason for going is not pleasure, but health, and if the pleasure is there, its silly not to appreciate it.

Yesterday we heard accounts of the shelling of the Kent coast from France, but we have little idea of how much damage was done.

This week we had another Airmail from Romey and Cousin Susie, and Romey’s letter was really most interesting.  She tells that she finds the Canadian girls of her own age that she has met, more grown up exteriorly, but much younger mentally, and she feels she will be quite the right age to start as a Student at the University.  Her tennis and riding are both above average too, it seems.  The latter is most surprising, I think, I had an idea that everyone rode in Canada.

Best love to all,

LJT

From LJT to Romey

August 25th, 1940

My darling Romey,

The lovely letters written by you and Cousin Susie on August 4th reached us here on August 22nd. Actually, I was in Calcutta, so Dad read them and posted them on at once to Winsome -- in case I’d left the house early, with the request to send them on to me wherever I had gone. It was amazing! The letter was handed to Winsome just as they were driving out of the porch. At the gate they turned and came back to bring me the letters! Wasn’t it a bit of luck we had not all started out, for then I would not have seen them till the evening.
Your letter was most, most interesting and so well written. I hope you decided on the day riding and I hope, also, you are having a “perm’. We are very intrigued to hear that you are ahead of your contemporaries, not only in work, but also in games and riding. The last is especially surprising.
I very much like the idea of your doing the 1st year course at the University. Aunt Susie seems to think perhaps the Arts course would be the best. We shall look forward to hearing more details. I am really at a loss to know what to suggest as a dress allowance. As far as I remember, Annette did not have a regular dress allowance, for I fitted her up for the months in France when she left school and when she went to Oxford, she had a lump sum for all her expenses. You will be getting $500 a year from the Eastern Trust Co and there has been a balance of $30 or $40 a year for the last few years, which you can draw on if you need. We have arranged to send $500 a year from here to Cousin Susie. We hope that will be enough for you and perhaps in a little while you will be able to budget your expenses on that basis.
Now, before I am interrupted or the space on the paper runs out, I must tell you of our plans. Dad has got his six months leave from early October and we leave by a Dutch boat about Oct 9th for Batavia. We shall arrive there about 20th Oct and leave again 16th November for New Zealand, where we shall arrive about the 16th December. I doubt if you would have time to send letters to me at Batavia, but in case you want to get at us, our address will be c/o The Bank of Java, Batavia, Dutch East Indies. We shall probably go up almost at once from Batavia to the Hills, to a place called Soekaboem to see our dear friends Baroness Mary Ow-Wachendorf and her mother, Baroness Giskra. You may remember that Baron Ow-Wachendorf was German Consul General in Calcutta and later a Minister in Egypt, where we stayed with them in 1937. Last year, Baron Ow-Wachendorf refused to obey a summons to Berlin and sent in his resignation, saying that when he joined the Diplomatic Service he did not expect to be asked to do the things, which he was now being ordered to do. He sold all his valuable pictures and curios and retired to Java, where, poor chap, he died before the War broke out last year. His wife is half Austrian, half American. His mother-in-law, Baroness Giskra, is American, and how they have all hated Nazi regime!
Letters to New Zealand, Wellington. There is probably a regular sea-mail service by the boats that run from Vancouver to N.Z., but you will be able to find out about that better than I. I shall make all arrangements here for letters arriving for us from Canada, to be sent to Uncle Harry and Winsome, so that they can read them and send them after us by the quickest possible way.
It seems very sad that we can’t come to Canada, but there are several reasons. First, I do not think Dad is in a fit state to face the Canadian winter. Secondly, there are difficulties about sending money to Canada, but none about sending it to New Zealand. Thirdly, it would be awkward if Japan did come into the War and we could not get back to India. However there are two “Castles in the Air” which we can keep tucked away in the backs of our minds. One is that if by any unexpected chance the War should end before April, we should not return to India, but go home via America and Canada. The other is that if the war drags on, we perhaps could, as you suggest, come from Canada to India. It is really rather heart-breaking having to spend precious leave without seeing either you or Richard and Annette, but the leave is being taken with the special purpose of restoring Dad’s health and I think the best chance is the beautiful climate and the sort of life we shall be able to lead in New Zealand. We shall go from Wellington of to the South Island, and spend most of our time walking and scrambling amongst the New Zealand Alps, which run up to altitudes of over 12,000 ft.. New Zealand friends tell me that living there is simple and cheap and I prophesy that we are sure to be invited to stay on some sheep station, here there are always lots of horses to ride.
I could go on writing for ages, but am limited to this one sheet. My love and thanks to Cousin Susie for her letter and love to Helen and John. You can imagine that I am going to be pretty busy till we go. Best love, and thanks again for the long and interesting letters.

Love, Mother

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah

Bengal

August 28th 1940

My Dears,

I am starting the family letter early this week, for I have to go to Calcutta on Saturday, and I might have to go down on Friday and stay the night.  I dont want to be caught with no time to write.  First of all I want to correct a mistake which I made last week.  I see I said we should be in New Zealand about the 16th November.  That, of course is not so.  We shall be leaving Java about that date, and arriving in New Zealand about the 16th December.  After a long talk with a N.Z friend, and study of the map, I am pretty certain that we shall get off the boat at Auckland, from where we shall make our way to the famous district of Rotarua, where there are the amazing geysers and hot springs, in a lovely mountainous country.  Mrs Wright Neville advises us to spend at least a fortnight there, before going on to Wellington.  Rotorua is roughly half way between Auckland and Wellington.  If you have not already addressed the letters to Wellington, you could send any that you think likely to arrive in New Zealand up to the end of the first week of January, to us c/o The Bank of New Zealand, Auckland.  Of course we shall keep the Bank at Wellington also informed about where to send letters.  Every time I hear of and think of, the Air Raids over London and other parts of England, I feel ashamed that I take so much pleasure and interest in planning this trip, for I cannot deny that I am keenly interested, and greatly looking forward to it.

To-day we are having an unofficial visit from the Governor.  He has been up to Asansol and is breaking journey here this afternoon, to see what has been done in the way of A.R.P. and Civic Guards, and as we have a Congress Municipality here, precious little has been done of either.  The Collector was all on for borrowing equipment from Calcutta, and trying to put up something of a show in the three days available.  Herbert and I were all against it.  We both feel that the Governor wants to see exactly what the Districts are doing, so its right to let him see how little has been accomplished where the Congress are in power in local politics.  H.E. is not arriving till half past three, and will come to tea at this house at 5 o’clock.  Luckily he specially said he did not want a party, and he has only a staff of three with him, so even with the District Magistrate and his wife and the S.D.O. from Serampore, we shall only be eight or nine which is an easy number to manage.  I have refused to get expensive cakes from Calcutta.  If H.E. does not like simple war economies, he can lump it!  Actually, I dont for a single moment suppose he will mind, but I have a suspicion that Mr Chakravarty, the District Magistrate, thinks that all thought of economy should be thrown to the winds where a Governor is concerned, and large quantities of the richest possible cakes provided!  He (though he is a nice fellow) and his type, all mind so tremendously about “face” which I have never found it easy to concern myself with, and which as I grow older, seems to me less and less important.  If I cannot be taken at my true and natural value, I would much rather be disregarded.

Once more it is J.B. Priestly who has managed to give us the most homely impression of the Air Raids in London during the last few days.  One reason he is so convincing is that he does not pretend that everything is delightful, but says frankly that the raids have a very great nuisance value, but he also says that Londoners are evidently determined to be put out by them as little as possible.  He always picks up some quaint stories too.

It was rather amusing on Sunday.  We had the new Administrateur of Chandernagore to lunch.  We also had Idris Matthews and Christine Rosslyn to spend the day, and Mr Rogers, the young S.D.O. of Serampore to lunch too.  We all had to speak French, as M. Marsouttier does not speak English.  After lunch we sat talking for some while, and at 2.45 Mr Rogers said he must go, as he had an appointment.  I thought M. Marsouttier would go too.  Not a bit of it!  Down he sat again, and went on with tales of his adventures in North Africa, and descriptions of the difficulties of feasting with Arab Chiefs.  He is a professional soldier apparantly, and I dont quite know why he has come to a civil post in Chandanagore.  Talk went on and on.  I did not know whether I had better ask Christine if she would like to go and rest, and so give our friend a hint to go, and I think that was what I ought to have done.  However, I did not, and he made no attempt to go.  Tea arrived and still he stayed quite happily, and it was not till 5.15 that he said, if I would excuse him he must go off to a foot-ball match, at which he had to preside!  We all felt just a bit exhausted, for our French is rusty, to say the least of it, but at any rate we had had several hours good practice.  The young man told me that he is lonely at Chandanagore, for the only other Frenchman is the policeman who is of the type of our N.C.O.s.  I also knitted half a sock while the visit was going on!

It began to drench with rain at tea time yesterday, contrary to the custom, which is to clear up at that time.  I began turning out the drawers of my writing table, and had a grand time tearing up unnecessary papers!  Reports of all the different societies I belong to, are things that I am always so glad to get rid of!  So often I put them aside, meaning to read them “when I have more time”, and there they remain!  I have a strong feeling that the elaborate reports put out by many societies, are waste of time and money, and that most subscribers would be glad to have only a single sheet accompanying the accounts, on which the briefest possible resume of the work done and the plans for the coming year were outlined.  The Ross Malaria Institute is an exception, for it is really interesting to hear in some detail what they are doing, and the information is of possible use to other workers against malaria.

August 30th 1940  Its just as well that I started early on this letter, for the last two mornings have been full of interruptions.  I had hoped perhaps we should have had some letters from home, before this  had to go, but there has been no luck.  The Governor’s visit went off quite well on Wednesday.  He is a pleasant, but very inconclusive creature, and definitely a poor public speaker, both as to the matter of what he says, and the manner in which he says it.  He seemed to enjoy our home-made scones and apricot jam, and was much amused when Herbert disclaimed all knowledge of what plans we are making for our holiday.  Mrs Chakravarty and I went over to see the demonstration of A.R.P. work afterwards, Chinsurah itself has done practically nothing yet, but they brought some of the men up from the Serampore Subdivision, where they have had some training in fire fighting and in First Aid work.  It was’nt a bad demonstration, though a bit laughable in places.  The real chef d’oeuvre was Mr Rogers, the young I.C.S. man from Serampore, who explained what was happening through the medium of a loudspeaker, and who might easily have been a B.B.C. announcer, so well did he do it!

The Dutch Consul, who is also head of the Java Bengal and allied steam-ship lines, has just sent me a letter full of information, and a whole sheaf of fascinating booklets about Java and Bali.  I have had to exercise great self-control not to begin studying them at once!  When I am in Calcutta to-morrow, I shall go to see Mr Thomas Cook and find out if he can give me any detailed information about New Zealand.

I have started a certain amount of turning out and throwing or giving away of unnecessary things, but no actual packing yet.  Mogul will begin with the books and I with the tiger skins, - - no! that’s the wrong way round!  I shall do the books.  I am going to have a very long day to-morrow.  I shall leave here at 7.45 and breakfast with Lady Birkmyre, on my way in to Calcutta.  I am taking Mogul to be interviewed, and hope he will get a job with her.  I have a few war work matters to talk over with her.  The day is full of engagements, and I am hearing the whole of Don Giovanni on gramophone records, with an interval for dinner, in the evening, so I dont suppose I shall be back here till well past midnight.

Best love to you all, and I pray that air raids are not being too abominable.

LJT

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
August 29th 1940.

My darling Annette,

Our hopes of getting letters by the boat that came in last week-end have faded, for I hear the mail bags were in Calcutta on Saturday. its odd, for we have had no all-sea mail since the letters posted from Great Leighs on June 14th, received here on August 1st. Next we had two lots of sea/air mail posted on July 5th and July 12th, both of which reached us on August 18th. One of the things I am anxious to get letters for is not only to hear what you are doing, but also how much money you will be needing. I have to make rather elaborate arrangements about money, and I must do it soon. I should think if I arrange for you to be able to draw up to £200 per year from us, it would be alright. If you are in a paid job, you may not need so much. I am also allowing that you and Richard might each want to be at Highways for six weeks, in six months (My immediate job is to budget till next mid-April from October) I hope that will be alright.

J.D. Macdonell commenting on the news this morning, “over the air” sounded almost annoyed that his friends and relations abroad were writing such sympathetic letters about the horrors and trials that he and others must be enduring from the Air-raids. Well I most profoundly hope that you are not suffering as much as we fear. In our undisturbed mights and days here, we do think so often of all of you, and wonder, - - and feel it unfair that we are not been giving something to endure as well. Of course we may have before long, but I feel that the more we keep the mastery of the Air over England, the less likely-hood there is of trouble in the Far East, which I suppose is where India’s chief danger comes from.

During the series of disasters following on the invasion of the Low Countries, I dont think that I could have taken much interest in the question of a holiday, and where we should go or what we should do, but luckily the human mind bobs up again quickly when events become less tragic and more stable, and now I am a little ashamed that my interest in plans for our tour is so keen. People are turning up to take on my jobs. I have found a Secretary for the Himalayan Club (I dont know why the machine is running capitals and other letters to-gether) Mrs Chakravarty is willing to train as a Guide in order to take on the guide Commissionership here, and Mrs Wright Nevill will take on the European War Workparty. Its a great thing to get rid of ones jobs in good time before one goes away, for it gives ones successor time to learn about them.

How strange it would be if the War finished, and we never came back! It would be rather a good thing to get away without having really to say good-bye! However I must not indulge in wishful thinking!

My reading this week has been almost entirely about Java. Edward Groth’s books are chosen with great throughness. He has sent me one general one about the whole of the Dutch East Indies, giving a general impression of the voyage from end to end of them, of the country, people, history customs and so on. Another gives a definite history of Java, and an account of its Government. A third is devoted to religion and archaeology and there are two large volumes of pictures*. I have to some extent gutted the two first books, and in the process of doing the same to the third., while I enjoyed the picture books, the first evening I got them, and glanced at them again with Idris and Christine (Rosslyn) on Sunday. Christine had been in Java, when the Ballet Company were doing the tour which later brought them to Calcutta. Idris flew there last Christmas. At any rate I shall not now be a complete ignoramous when I arrive there.

When we had the new Administrateur of Chandanagore here from 12.45 till 5.20 p.m. last Sunday, I felt more ashamed of my bad French than ever. I did manage to keep conversation going with him, but oh! what awful mistakes I kept on making, - - verbs in wrong tenses: genders wrong and adjectives not agreeing; - - words totally forgotten, and so on!

Best love, my dear
Mother

* and a Natural History.

(Family letter from HPV – not in AMT’s collection of letters: this typed by Joan Webb)
August 31st, Bengal

Dear Everybody,

All three of you may go to the top of the class, your mother is in Calcutta. I am sitting on the edge of the tokhta-posh in the drawing-room, with the typewriter on a low stool in front of me, and I am pecking at it with literally one finger, while someone bellows via the wireless from Saigon. Often there is from there and from Batavia, Chinese music to which I listen as one listens to the twittering of birds --- and at times to the screeching of cats, cats in pain or fearful surprise.
Yesterday I was myself in Calcutta, alone. Two meetings, rather dull, and several talks with secretaries; my hope that I should get information about the man who will relieve me and about miscellaneous things connected with the leave was a flop because Martin the Chief Secretary is in hospital. It looks as if everyone was more or less cracking up, owing to the mass of extra and futile stuff that has to be tackled.
That long man, Dash, Commissioner at Jalpaiguri, (who was once caricatured as a cigarette and looks like that at any time) was at brother Harry’s, looking very ill. I felt a certain shame that I, who look ruddy in comparison with him, should be going on leave as unable to carry on longer seems absurd, when Dash is not. However folk say that a few weeks ago he was bounding across the horizon in Darjeeling, and it is many months or years even since I gave as much as a feeble skip.
The Governor came here on Wednesday and harangued the so-called War Committee about the need for activity. Afterwards the ARP Volunteers from Serampore where something (though not much) has been done in that line, gave a little demonstration on measures to be taken after an air-raid. The public have decided that this lets them out and that there is now no need to do anything. The Congress followers are non-cooperating , more because they have complete confidence in the ability of the British to keep the Germans and Italians off , than because they really believe in the ability of Japanese bombs to distinguish between the enemies of the British and their friends, and to dodge the former.
There have been clear nights once or twice lately -- or a few hours of clear sky -- and I have seen some constellations of which I had been doubtful. The bright star in Aries has been brighter than it had any right to be, and I began to wonder if it was a nova. At the Club yesterday, I thought of looking up the Star Map under the head Constellations in the Encyclopedia Britannica; pretty good, it shows a lot of detail which was new to me. E.g. that Pisces runs round the corner of Pegasus, and gives some names that I did not know. None the less, I begin to think that I now know fairly well all the constellations North and South that matter.
The mynahs which now visit our breakfast and lunch number about sixteen; they snatch from the squirrels’ mouths the nuts that they themselves cannot extract from the shells, and by dashing at them they scare the squirrels (all but the baby which does not know enough to be afraid) into dropping the nuts when cracked. There is too much bustle at meals now.
The clear skies by the way, are very ominous, they indicate a partial failure of rain that threatens crop failure, two of the districts look as if things would be bad whatever happened now, but in others there might still be moderately good harvests if rain is favorable now. It would mean a good deal of work for me if I were not staying at a distance from the scene while the harvest is on, but I may return to the thick of it. The debate about the Irrigation scheme, which would have saved one or two districts, is to come off on the 3rd.

Much love, Dad