The Townend Family Letters

1940 July

From HPV to Romey

Chinsurah, July 1st, 1940

My dear Rosemary,

A telegram came in this morning with a special storm warning, severe storm 50 miles southeast of Calcutta and maybe coming north or northwest. Now there is driving rain and a strong wind, and with the comparative coolness (I am sitting without a fan) I feel as if it might be in Europe. A little energy perhaps. Things go as they usually go here. So far as I am concerned there is work. A fortnight ago I came within one file of being up to date, but having to spend a day in Calcutta and having several long appeals to hear during the next few days, arrears crept up again. We seem to be doing ever more routine stuff than usual, there has been no shutting down of any activities owing to the war.
July 2nd Interruption by Mr Gurner, who came in and started talking. He has been staying here these last two days. Spying the dart’s board, he insisted on trying his hand. Me --- I am not good at darts. There is a board four foot square behind the target, and on occasion, I miss not only the target, but the square, and lodge the dart in the folding doors on which they hang. But Mr Gurner is, I believe, even worse. It was no question of playing a game; he merely threw the darts at the target with shouts of laughter.
The storm came to nothing much but rain. There was no feeling that windows would blow in, but it is lucky that the whole roof was repaired last year. Mr Gurner is doing the job that I refused, of working through the report of the committee about the Permanent Settlement. He came up here to discuss certain aspects of it with different people. Among other things, there is the question of buying up all the forests, and after talking to me about it, he did a thing that probably no one else has done ---- he read the Forest Committee Report, which I wrote of as you may remember. This touched me.
There has been falling off in the activities of the animal inhabitants of the compound. The peepul trees are in fruit and the fruit is like a tiny fig; we suspect that the squirrels find so much to eat there as to forget the bread and nuts waiting for them by the dining room window. Only two or three come now. They also visit the inferior pomegranate tree and enjoy the pomegranates, which even the domestic staff consider not worth taking. The mynahs are thick, but scarcely ever come for the bread. We have a circus of four lizards of assorted sizes, on the verandah wall under the electric lamp. They scuttle about and in a way are amusing, but I feel no real sympathy for lizards. Monkeys came into the garden. The usual chase followed and the huge mother monkey, with her baby clinging to her, came bounding from the front of the house through my study, where I was writing, into the garden. Taking a stick, I joined the chase, running and howling; the monkeys were running in all directions -- one must be a world’s record leaper, for it jumped from the top of the hose onto the gate pillar, which is, it’s true, about 10 feet high, but which affords a poor landing place after a portentous leap.
There is also a dog in the house, a rather miserable wisp of an Australian terrier, which belongs to the now-interned Anina Brandt. She was much distressed at being treated thus with suspicion after having been so hostile to the Nazis but, as our American friend, Mrs. Rankin, who has been here for four or five days, and left yesterday, remarked philosophically, she doesn’t take a sufficiently objective view. The dog does, though, or seems to. He is going through the difficult experience of being taught to obey orders. Strange to say, he does not know how to play. Anina Brandt had a caution that it was dangerous to handle dogs and disinfected her hands whenever she touched it -- so thoroughly that she took the skin off them eventually. She also disinfected the dog at frequent intervals. I favour washing after dog-touching, but there is moderation even in cleanliness.
We wonder often what you are doing and whether you are on your way or soon going to be on your way to Canada. If you go, it will be an interesting experience --- though as for that, I suppose, if you stay it will be an interesting experience too. Too interesting, maybe. If you go, it will be rather a contrast to my visit to Halifax in 1895 (I think) for the golden wedding festivities. How unpleasant and small a boy I was! But it is no use brood on that now! Much love,Dad

From LJT to Romey

Chinsurah, July 1st, 1940

My darling Romey,

Uncle Harry has just rung up to say that there is a weekly Air Mail to Canada, very costly, it is true, but we think it well be worth using it occasionally. Two letters to you have already been sent off by ordinary post, but I expect you will get this first, so I must just say again, what I have already said in them, and that is how enormously delighted we are that you and John have this wonderful chance of going to Winnipeg. It is a thousand times better for you than coming out here, and from all I have ever heard of life in Canada, and from what Mrs. Rankin tells me, who though being American, has spent quite a bit of time in Canada, I should think you would like the life immensely. It is difficult to do much about arrangements till we have heard from you and from Cousin Susie. We have sent some money to her, and we shall be arranging to have the money which Dad has in Canada paid direct to her. You will need a good many clothes I should think, and later on plenty of warm things for the Winter. For the next few weeks, holiday making will be the order of the day, I imagine, but later on I hope you will be able to carry on with some sort of studies or practical training.
There was, of course, just a bit of personal disappointment when I heard that you would not be coming to India, for I would dearly have loved to have seen you, but it soon passed in the realization of what a much better arrangement this is. It is difficult to express our gratitude to Cousin Susie for thinking of inviting you, and for being willing to undertake the responsibility. It is a comfort to me to know that you are reliable and steady and won’t be a bother to her. Cyril Gurner has just had fifteen year old Anne Waight, who used to play with you in Jalpaiguri, to stay for a few days, and she is so precocious and such a minx, that he is quite terrified, and wonders whether his daughters are the same! I have been trying to reassure him, and convince him that all girls in their late teens are not like that.
In these anxious times, you can perhaps scarcely realize what it means to us that you are, or will when this letter reaches you, be safe. We try to keep cheerful and needless to say we have full confidence that England will win the War in the end. Meantime we cannot but be very anxious for the dear ones at Home. It makes it harder in a sense, that we cannot share their perils, and that there is no really urgent or hard work for women out here to do. In a sense I am busy about War Work, but it is only the distributing of sewing and knitting, and doing it myself, and it does not amount to anything approaching a “job”. However, I suppose it is my part to stay here and look after Dad who is doing important work, but who is not too fit, and would find it hard to get on without me, I think.
Once more I have a dog in the house. It is a little Australian terrier belonging to Anina Brandt, my German friend, who with the tightening up of regulations about enemy aliens, has been detained in a cap at Katapahar, above Darjeeling. I believe Anina to be just as strongly opposed to Hitler and the Nazis as I am, possibly more so, but after Holland’s experiences, there is nothing for the authorities to do, but to shut up all enemy aliens. As I wrote to Anina, she can now show the measure of her loyalty to the British cause, by taking her confinement calmly and bravely and not complaining. Puchi, as the small dog is called, has settled down very happily here. He knew me and the house well before, which I expect is a help. He’s quite an intelligent little beast, but I confess, I don’t feel the same heart-warning to small dogs like that as I do to terriers of larger size. No doubt I shall get fonder of him as the days go on.
The Rains have really started now, and it’s much cooler than it was, with high winds most of the time. We are very busy with all sorts of work in the garden. I’d love to take on another couple of men, but mustn’t be extravagant at War time.
Will you give my very warmest and most heartfelt thanks to Cousin Susie? Uncle Harry thinks there will only be room for this one sheet in his letter, and I just hope that my two letters already written to Susie won’t take too long to reach her. You might also say that Harry has sent two hundred fifty pounds on our account, and that more money will be sent later. It is hard to express our gratitude to her. Bless you my darling, Mother

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 4th 1940.

My darling Annette,

The cutting off of the Air Mail has made us realize how spoilt we have been, for now we feel so hungry for news! It wont be so bad once we have bridged the inevitable first gap between the turn over from Air to round-the-Cape sea route, for there are plenty of boats coming out that way, and we shall get fairly frequent posts I suppose. There has just been the extremely interesting bit of news over the Wireless that the British have taken over the control of all French War ships in British harbours or waters, and that the process of dealing with the ships in the North African Ports is proceeding at this moment. It will be enormously interesting at some future time to find out what really happened, - - - if indeed the story is every told. I can imagine so many different ways and turns that things could take!

The completeness with which the War dominates the upper sub-conscious mind is shown in waking from sleep, I think. Whenever I wake I find that my mind is busy on some thought connected with the War, though not always in a distressed manner. The worst time for that so far was during the evacuation from Dunkirk especially at the beginning, when it looked as if the whole force would be destroyed or taken prisoner. It may come again in an intensified form when the expected attach on Britain takes place. Of course its there a bit with the nightly raids over Britain. Constantly I wish that there were a good Air Raid Shelter at Highways!

Cyril Gurner has rather hashed up his wife’s plans. She cabled to him that she was coming out, leaving very soon with the three girls. He cabled back, by one of those Delayed Letter telegrams of 25 words, and as there were words enough he put the word “Reluctant” in somehow in connection with having the girls in Calcutta, not for a moment meaning to put Phyllis off, but she cabled back that she had cancelled their passages. Cyril then cabled again telling her to do her best to renew the booking or get others! What a muddle! And how infuriating! Its somehow rather typical of him. He is always falling over things, upsetting small tables, spilling his drinks and that sort of thing, all of which point to a certain lack of co-ordination in practical affairs I think. I hope poor Phyllis will get the passages again.

Mrs Edgley is apparantly making herself ridiculous by going round saying how awful everything is, and she does hope her poor Hugh will not be taken to fight! Can you imagine anyone with British blood at this moment taking up an attitude like that, or if they felt like that in their hearts, publishing the fact to the world. I suppose they have no pride, and no spirit of co-operation - - always hoping that other people will do the dirty or the dangerous work and leave them to enjoy the safety and the benefits. I hope for Hugh’s sake he does not hear what she is saying, for I imagine it would make him pretty wild.

Poor Anina has been put into the detention camp at Katapahar, above Darjeeling. Once she can steel herself to the idea, I am sure it will be better for her, for her position outside was becoming almost untenable. I think its quite right too, for though I and many of her friends believe in her genuine hatred of the Nazis and so on, Holland has given such an eye opener over what people are capable of in the way of treachery, that I think it only right to keep all Germans under control. As I have written to her, this is the moment when she can really show the measure of her loyalty to the British cause, by being brave, not grumbling and co-operating with the authorities in every possible way – With her capabilities, she might be a very useful member of the camp, organizing the other women, and getting them to interest themselves in work or study of some sort. I have her little dog here. He is a little “Sidney Silky” from Australia, not a bad little cuss, but somehow I don’t feel the heart warming to him that I do to larger dogs.

I am so wondering whether Rosemary is yet on her way to Canada. I am sorry that German sub marines seem to have been so active again the last few days, but thank goodness if they had to torpedo any ship, they chose one full of German and Italian refugees or “internees”

I am just full of curiosity to hear what you are doing to trying to do. You will need a bit of a holiday, of course, after the exam, but I don’t suppose you will feel like sitting idle very long.

Best love, my dear
Mother

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 4th 1940

My Dears,

We are grateful for the Radio these days, with communications by sea taking so long, and communication by Air suspended, for though we cannot hear from each of you, we at least know constantly and almost immediately, what is going on. I much prefer the Wireless news to the newspapers, and I find J.B. Priestly’s and Vernon Bartlett’s talks “London Commentary on the News” most steadying and enlightening. By our time they take place at six Minutes to seven in the morning, and I listen to them when I drink my early morning tea, - - no! that’s not quite true! I drink my tea a bit earlier while listening to the news, - - which is the half- past midnight from London. Priestly has a knack of making one feel as if one might have been wandering round and visiting ones friends, or chatting to people in shops and buses. Vernon Bartlett gives the impression of being a little more in the inside of things in London and abroad, but both are lucid and cheering. I suppose those of you at home who are not engaged on actual war work, have much the same feeling that we do of working at the everyday things with the surface of ones mind, while all the time a constant attention to the war and all that hangs thereby, flows just below the surface.

It was a very great pleasure to me having Louise Ranken here for a week. It was a pleasure to Herbert too, for I think he likes talking with Louise just as much as I do. They had a good deal of mild fun over facts about American History and American habits, about which Herbert has learnt so much from the American books and papers with which Louise has supplied us, that he now claims he knows more than she does! We actually got him to come out on three evenings for country walks with us. The last occasion was rather muddy, for we have had a lot of rain, but it was rather fun. One evening we found a palm tree full of weaver bird’s nests, which delighted Louise, for she had not seen them before. On Friday evening Herbert had to go down to Calcutta in order to be at Howrah at 7 a.m. on Saturday for an inspection of A.R.P. workers, Civic Guards, and Special Constables by the Governor. Louise and I amused ourselves by taking a little country boat in which we sailed across the river to Naihati, where we landed and wandered through the bazaar, and watched a man on the river-bank, making string for fishing nets with the most crazy contraption of bamboo you ever saw. Heath Robinson’s efforts must be master-pieces of engineering compared with this. However he was turning out beautiful strong twine! It was awfully pretty on the river and delightfully cool. Chinsurah looks almost beautiful across half a mile of water. The pleasant designs of the old houses which line most of the bank between our house and Hooghli, show up their general outlines, but the dirt and the decay which sits so heavily upon them, is shrouded by the kindly distance. On Thursday Louise and I had quite a long day out. In the morning we drove down to Serampore, almost half way to Calcutta, where I had promised to go to visit the Mission Girls School. I think seeing the school quite interested Louise, who has not seen much of that sort of thing. I enjoyed it too. It seemed both happy and reasonably efficient. One thing that interested me, as being significant of the missionaries change of attitude towards things, was that three or four of the tiny girls in the kindergarten class, danced for us, and they danced the old Hindu dances, using the hand “mudras”, that is the classical positions of the hands, each of which has a definite meaning. I cant help thinking that the missionaries of fifty years ago would have thought the children were on the high road for hell fire if they had danced in this way.

We lunched with the Subdivisional officer, Mr Rogers and the young policeman, and later went to the Serampore College to see the library and the Hall. Serampore was the Danish settlement, only transferred to the British in 1845. It was at the beginning of the nineteenth century that the Baptist Missionaries got a charter from the Danish King to establish a mission and later a college at Serampore. The East India Company in those days would not tolerate missionaries. When Serampore was handed over to the British, a special clause was put into the Treaty safeguarding the rights and privileges granted to them by the Danes. Three remarkable men started the work, of whom William Carey was perhaps the most outstanding. He translated the Bible or superintended the translation of it, into thirty five Indian languages, in many cases crystallizing the local speech, and giving it a literary form. It is said that before his day Bengali was practically only a spoken language, for all writing was done in the Classical Sanskrit. This seems achievement enough for a lifetime one would have thought, but he also took his part in raising funds and building the very fine college, which still stands, and furthermore he was an eminent botanist, which is the guise under which I chiefly know him. One of the Masters or professors (I don’t know what they call themselves) took us round the Library, which we found extremely interesting, and proved himself a good showman. Incidentally he told us that he was the fourth generation of his family to work at Serampore. We were joined a little later by the Head of the College, a quiet, shy man of the name of Angus, with whom Louise got on excellently. We looked at the portraits in the Great Hall, chiefly of Danish Kings and their ladies, and one believed to be of Madam Grand (who was born in Chadernagore). Mr Angus says it always strikes him as quaint that a lady of her rather exciting reputation should have a place of honour in a Theological College Hall, and he adds that she generally rouses more interest than the Royal Patrons. Mr Angus took us to his house for tea at which the wife of our first guide, and two other Missionaries and their wives were present. Louise and I could not help laughing afterwards, for if you had tried to pick out three females to represent what we always think of Missionaries of being, you could not have done better this selection. They were all plain, with shiny noses; all badly dressed: and wooden and dull to the last degree! Naturally this is not true of lots of missionaries, notable some of the Americans at Asansol, and the Wesleyans in Bankura.

We are terribly sorry for the Administrateur of Chandernagore and his wife, M. and Mdme Baron. They came to see us on Wednesday evening of last week. When they arrived, M. Baron looked terribly strained and sad, and I was so thankful to see as the evening wore on, and we discussed the tragic happenings in France, the look of strain relaxed, and he became more normal. She had not shown her feelings so much in her outward expression, though she is also in great personal anxiety about her two brothers who were with the Northern Army in France, the remnents of which were evacuated with our forces. She has had no news at all from them. The Barons are the only pure born French people in Chandernagore, except for the policeman, who, they say is the “Vrai Type Militaire”, so it may be that they had not really been able to talk freely from their hearts. In some ways they are better off than the Consular people in Calcutta and the French Trade Commissioner, for Chandernagore has certain revenues drawn from local sources, and they can presumably live on these if and until pay comes from France. At the same time, they have had two meetings firmly declaring that they throw in their lot with Britain, just as Pondicheri has done. We returned their visit on Sunday morning, partly because Louise had only seen that back part of Chandernagore which is traversed by the Grand Trunk Road, and found them, I think, a little more cheerful.

Another guest arrived in time for Breakfast on Monday morning, Cyril Gurner who had some work to do here. Louise went off in the late afternoon and I viewed her departure with real regret. She had been the perfect guest! Cyril was another sort of perfect guest in that he had enough work to do to keep him busy except for meals and in the evenings. He has gone off this morning. I had to go down to Calcutta yesterday, chiefly for the most important meeting of the Hospitals Division of the Red Cross, at which we make grants to Hospitals for special “comforts”. It’s always a long meeting for their is so much to consider. In order to be in time to go into the Red Cross office about War Work, before the meeting, which began at 10.30, I left here at 8.30, am and got back at 11.30 P.M, so I had a good day of it. I lunched with the Percy Browns who are just back from Kashmir, shopped and attended Himalayan Club Business in the afternoon, and spent the evening with some friends who have just come back from a holiday in Sikkim, when they did a trek which I helped them to plan. Like so many people they were entranced by the flowers, and anxious to know something about them, so I took my pressed specimens, and photos, and we spent a happy hour or more over them. I had intended leaving them immediately after dinner, but we got talking about the War and the causes that have led up to it, and when I did get up to go, it was just time for the evening news bulletin from Daventry, so I stayed to listen to that!

How strange to think that my accounts of old Serampore and scraps of news about my doings, may reach you in the midst of such heavy danger. God keep you all!

Best love
LJT

From LJT to Romey

Chinsurah, July 8th, 1940

My darling Romey,

We got a cable from Aunt saying you had sailed and are constantly wondering how you are both getting on, --whether you are seasick and all sorts of things. It’s tantalizing that it well be so long before we can get your letters, but how we shall enjoy them when they come.
It is such a comfort to Auntie Winsome to know that 10 yr old John is under your charge, so to speak, for she thinks you know how to manage him very well. I am going to write to Cousin Susie as soon as I have finished this on the subject of what sort of work or study you can do when the holiday time is over. I must leave it almost entirely to you and her, but I do very much want you to do something, whether it be of a scholastic or practical nature, I don’t think matters so very much, the chief thing being that it should help to fit you for some sort of useful work in the future. None of us must be drones, at least that is my opinion. Lots of the trouble in the world has been caused by the wealthy people wanting to arrange that they should have comfort and luxury, without doing anything to justify their claim, except that a father or grandfather or someone had made a lot of money and left it to them to enjoy. My father felt like that. He felt that it would be a definite badge of failure if any of his daughters worked and earned their own living, -- a sort of social stigma. How differently we feel now! Thank God we do! Each one of us should be ready to put in our quota of work for the general well-being of the world.
My complaint a little while ago that I had not enough to do, has for the moment been completely nullified. Through the energy and capability of Mrs. Chakerabuty, our Collector’s wife, we have had a meeting of Indian ladies in the hope of getting their support both in subscriptions and in actual work of sewing and knitting, for the War Purposes Committee. The meeting took the whole of Friday afternoon, and now there is a lot of work to do in coaching the Joint Secretaries and Treasurer who were elected at that meeting, in how to do their jobs, and later to keep on seeing that they carry out the necessary work. That is always the difficulty with any but the most emancipated, that the Europeans have to bolster them up so that it appears that they are doing the work, and that really it is much more trouble than doing it oneself. The idea is that they should gradually be educated to the idea of undertaking public work of different sorts, but they seem to have made precious little progress in the last twenty-five years.
At this same moment the schools have reopened after their summer vacation, and I have the job of finishing off the training of two teachers from the Girls’ School, whom we sent to Calcutta to have five days intensive training in Girl Guide work, with a view to their becoming officers, and starting a company here. I don’t know whether these two will prove slow or quick, -- I hope to goodness it will be the latter. Having got them into some sort of shape and enrolled them, we shall then have to pick out a few girls who might make patrol leaders, and give them a little training before starting the whole company. In a way I am rather looking forward to it, only I wish the girls spoke English. They are all studying it, but their knowledge is mostly from books, and their ability to speak or understand speech is small. My knowledge of Bengali is even less!
It seems odd to plan holidays when the War is in such a critical stage, but Dad so badly needs a short rest and change, that I am persuading him to take a fortnights leave after the Puja Holidays, which will be the latter half of October, ( the Holidays being from the 6th to the 16th of Oct ) and it is necessary to lay plans ahead, for every place in Darjeeling will be so full, as will all the little Rest Houses in Sikkim and Tibet. My idea is to go up to Phari in Tibet, for it is on the trade route to Lhasa, and is a mule track, so that Dad can ride if he is not very fit, and also we are following the telegraph line to Lhasa all the way, and at the bigger places, can get news by telegram, and so keep some sort of touch with the outside world. It should be a tremendous pleasure to be away amongst the mountains for a while, but I look upon this proposed holiday chiefly as a health insurance. It is not very useful to one’s country to go on working till one drops, when a few weeks rest and change might set one up for another spell of hard work.
This is a dull letter I fear, but it has been written under some difficulty. I have had interruptions from a CID Indian detective who is trying to find out about a theft of money that took place from my dressing-case last month, and a visit from two Scout Masters, who wanted me to write laudatory remarks in their books about a Scout Rally which I attended on Friday evening.
Papers have arrived for me to correct the minutes and draft one or two letters about the Ladies War Committee Meeting, so I will stop this now.

Very best love to you my darling, and to young John,
Mother

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 11th 1940

My Dears,

It seems such a long, long while since we had letters! It was a tremendous pleasure to get one from Peggy yesterday, though it was written before the last lot we got by Air Mail. Next week I hope we may get our first regular consignment by sea route. From here we watch and wait and wonder, and do what little we can to help, praying all the time in a sort of insensible way that you may all be kept safe. I still find Vernon Bartlett’s and JB Priestly’s Talks, called “London Commentary” most interesting, and steadying, and they do make one feel far more nearly than news in the papers that one is in some sort of immediate contact with what is happening. I wonder whether it is the knowledge that it is the actual voice of the actual man, and that the words have scarcely left his lips when they reach our ears, that gives this sense of added reality. There must be something too, in the personality of the men. They paint pictures of England and the English people that make us feel very proud!

A few weeks ago I was complaining that I had not enough work to do. At the moment I have enough to keep me very busy. Mrs Chakravarty, our Collector’s wife, called a meeting of the local Indian ladies for last Friday afternoon, with the purpose of forming a Committee to see what they can do to help the effort to defeat Germany. Beforehand we had to write speeches and make a good many plans. There are incredible difficulties of matters of “purdah”, local jealousies, and social snobbery which it seems it would be hard to beat anywhere, and apparently no notion that these should be dropped in the face of an emergency so overwhelming, and a cause which should be the first thought of all who uphold freedom and justice. It makes one rather despair about the progress made by Indian women in the last quarter of a century. Mrs. Chakravarty was disappointed in the small number of women who attended the meeting, only 19 besides ourselves and a Scotchwoman and her Bengali colleague from the Mission. I was pleased at the active part the women who did come took in the meeting. They did not sit mumchance at all, but put forward some suggestions and opinions, and voted on the elections of office bearers for the Committee and sub-committees with sense and discretion. The meeting took from 3 P.M. till past 6 P.M. on Friday. Mrs Chakravarty and I who were elected President and Vice-President, had the Joint Hony Secretaries here from three till five on Tuesday, and yesterday we had the eight members of the sub-committee for Sewing and Knitting for the same time. They proved themselves more capable than I thought they would, and we really got through a lot of work. There is always a certain amount going for my European Group of workers too, such as cutting out, and checking work in and out and receiving subscriptions. At the same time, Girl Guide work has started in earnest. I think I probably told you some time ago that the local Girls’s School had asked me to start a company. We sent two teachers to Calcutta for five days training during the Summer holidays, which in this country are from early May till the end of June, and now that the school has had time to get into its stride after beginning of term, the two teachers a coming to me to finish off their training and pass their tests, before being enrolled and becoming Guide Officers. Luckily the Bengali woman who is now working at the Scotch Mission has been a very competent Guide in the past, holding a Local trainer’s certificate, and she is most kindly helping me. We had the two young women here on Monday evening, and though they were only supposed to come from 5:30 till 6:30 we all got so interested that they stayed till nearly half past seven. One of them says she was a small girl in the school at Jalpaiguri when I started Guides there, which is rather a nice coincidence. They are coming here again this evening, and if it keeps fine, they are to do their tests for fire-lighting and for Nature Observation. I am really enjoying doing this work again, and am detirmined to make this company as smart and efficient as I can, just to set an example to the Boy Scouts. Herbert and I attended a Scout Rally on Friday evening, at which all the local troops, of which there are quite a number, joined to welcome Mr. Chakravarty as District Commissioner. Never have I seen such a sloppy lot, and there was not one bit of ceremonial, which is simple as well can be, that was properly done. The next morning two Scout Masters came round to see me with their Company Books, asking that I should write my appreciation of the previous evening’s show. I said to them “Now you as Boy Scouts and I as a Girl Guide have taken an oath to speak the truth. Therefore you would not expect me to put in those books anything that I do not honestly think”. To that they agreed, feeling a little uneasy, I think, for its one thing to make a promise, and another that anyone should openly expect you to keep it. I went on to tell them how bad I thought the Rally was. One of them said “Oh Madam! We work in the Bengali fashion”. That made me very angry, and I pointed out to him that there is no Bengali fashion, or African or Icelandic or Swiss or any other, for the basic principals and the few essential ceremonies of the Scouts and Guides, but the International Scout or Guide fashion that is common to us all. I pointed out to them that whatever form the uniform takes, to suit the country and habits of the children, there is one rule that it must be clean and neatly put on. I don’t think there was a boy on the field the other evening whom I would have passed as reaching that standard! And so on and so on! The two young men went away sorrowful, without asking me further to write in their books. I don’t see why one should do all the buttering up, which the Bengali so loves both to give and to receive, when there is no ground for praise, and I’m not prepared to do it. No one really speaks the truth about the agitation for a Bengali Regiment. The truth is that the average young Bengali of the educated classes has every disqualification for becoming a soldier. They are spoilt, undisciplined, lazy, soft, each seeking the lime light for himself. (In the sporting clubs here, of which there are twenty two, where there is room for about four, no one will remain a member for long unless he is at least put on the Committee, or is made an office-bearer of some sort) slack about attention to detail, and most unreliable in carrying out any orders, and that is why for the Bengali Coast Defence, the authorities are giving preference to the Cultivators, who are enured to fairly heavy physical work, and have at any rate had the discipline which Nature enforces on all farmers. They know its no use going on strike when no rain comes, as the Bengali students lightly do if they dont approve of orders from their Masters. They are a curious people, capable of great unselfishness, in some directions, generally in matters to do with their immediate family, but almost wholly lacking in any sense of civic or national responsibility.

How will all this stuff of such purely local interest read to all of you, situated as you are in the midst of what I suppose is beyond all doubt, the most momentous crisis in the whole history of mankind?

Herbert, persuaded by Mrs. Ranken, is taking some pills called Abidol, which do not contain any drug, but Vitamins A. B. & D. He has also given up eating eggs, except in so far as they occur in ordinary cooking. I dont know whether these things have helped him but I do think he is a bit less tired, and has been a little less bothered by his digestion than he was.

We went in to Calcutta on Sunday morning and visit some friends before going to lunch with Harry and Winsome. The real reason for our visit was to attend an afternoon “At Home” given by some Indian friends on the occasion of their daughter’s marriage. It was just rather a dull tea-party on a fairly big scale, most of the guests being English Officials, and had nothing to do with the wedding ceremony, which had taken place some days before. At 6 o’clock we went on to see “For Freedom”, rather against Herbert’s inclination, for he wanted to be made to laugh, but we thought the film very good indeed. It was the day to the great Car Festival of Jaggarnath, Lord of the World, and as between us and Calcutta there is celebrated the next biggest Car Festival after the famous and original one at Puri, we passed great crowds of holiday makers on the road. It was rather jolly in a way. For the half mile between the temple where the Jaggarnath image ordinarily resides, and the one to which he goes on the eight-day visit, the road was lined with the booths of a big Fair. It has many features in common with an English Fair:- Aunt Sallies under an Indian guise, Fortune tellers, conjurors, Freaks, Miniature Theatres and boothes selling all manner of things, two specialties of this special gathering being baskets and plants. Crowds hanging about everywhere, gazing wide-eyed at the wonders, and the inevitable small boys trying to peep through holes at the back, and to get a free show. It turned into a wet afternoon, but as this festival always comes in the Rainy season, Rain must be expected, and is said to be lucky. I hope the huge congregation of worshipers put in a few words to the “Lord of the World” to use some of his influence against Hitler, who obviously aspires to that position!

Simla seems to be waking at last from its lazy somnolence, for in the paper yesterday it announced that the Ordanance Dept were going to remove to Calcutta, - -(which seems the barest common sense, when all the most important Ordanance Factories are close, and the big iron and steel companies only a few hours away by train and a very few hours by plane. This is what Idris Matthews meant when he wrote from Simla a week or so ago, saying he might be back in Calcutta before long, though not at Cossipore. It will be nice to have him within reach again. Similarly the Army Supply people are said to be going to Bombay near which are most of the cotton and woolen mills. It seems an odd freak of British mentality that even in moments of great urgency the central control of all the important government functions, should remove themselves to a remote Himalayan Hilltop, which everyone who has experienced it says, breeds an extraordinary sense of detachment from the ordinary world. Calcutta thinks that the standard of efficiency in the Government of India has deteriorated since it left Calcutta for Delhi, for in the days when it spent the Winter in Calcutta, it was at least in touch with a real working world for part of the year. In Delhi it has been able to wrap itself in its own atmosphere.

I wont attempt to comment of the situation with regard to Congress, for I really dont know what to say, except that their attitude seems to me futile and short sighted beyond words.

The gong for lunch is just sounding which is perhaps a good hint that its time to stop this.

Best love to you all from us both
LJT

From Grace Townend to Annette

Highways. Gt. Leighs
Chelmsford
July 11th 1940

Anne dear.

We were so glad to see the post-cards this morning with the result of your exam, and I hope you got my telegram before you went to work. It is splendid to get a 1st. I will cable the news to India when I announce the childrens safe arrival in Canada, which I may hear of in the next few days. I am glad your new digs are an improvement – certainly as to address as the first one was such a mouthful.

Give my love to Pam and Betty.

I had great adventures seeing the children off which took years off my life. Having spent a pleasant and leisurely afternoon we got to Euston ages before the train went and found the place thronged with French Canadians all bound for Glasgow. We found the 7.50 entirely taken up with sleepers or 1st class, and were told by 3 porters and the information bureau that all 3rd class passengers were to go by the 9.30. This we did, and not till 9.30 next morning when we passed Glasgow and went on down the Clyde to Gourock, did I discover that we were on the wrong train and the big C.P.R. boat was up in Glasgow docks! I felt quite sick in heart and stomach as for a little while the man talked as though the children couldn’t go at all! However at Gourock a C.P.R man appeared who said that was all nonsense, and he would do his best to get the children by motor boat to the “Princess of Bermuda” when she came down the river and otherwise of course they would be taken on the other boat! In the latter event they would have had no luggage with them and would have been stowed in where they could find room! However I heard from the C.P.Q. next day that they had been duly transferred so all was well! Any pleasure I should have had in seeing the mountains was quite spoilt by my anxiety. We couldn’t even buy a biscuit or cup of tea on the train so were distinctly ???? by 10.30 next day, and even then I could only buy chocolate and biscuits at Gourock!

The journey down was very comfortable and I eat a huge lunch – for once getting my money’s worth out of a railway lunch.

I stayed the night with Aunt Arla and felt quite recovered after a real hot bath and long night’s rest. On the way down I came upon the C.P.R. man who had sold me the tickets. He was terribly sorry to hear of our troubles and said their overflow train left at 9.20, and no one even mentioned that to us! Joey came down on Monday and got past the policeman all right, so I met her and showed my card as well. She said she imagined things were much worse with us, and feels much happier to find how normal we are, in fact she thinks they are more likely to get bombed at Maidenhead as they are on the G.W.R. main line and full of aerodromes and factories! She goes home today.

No letters at all from India this week.

Aunt Do is also with us, as she collapsed the other day – the doctor says she has high blood pressure and her heart isn’t too good, and she must rest, so I got her over here, and she is better already, but still very lethargic and can only walk very slowly. The doctors says she must give up her duty at the Post, as she will kill herself, and since she has been here though we have had a few “boorps in the night” and planes around, she has slept peacefully in her bed.

What an air battle yesterday! Fancy 14 planes down and 23 damaged. Good work!

Best love, dearie, and again a pat on the back for your good work
Ever your loving
Aunt

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 12th 1940

My darling Annette

Its odd how one begins to feel stale about letter-writing when one has not got any stimulous from the other side, so to speak. Anyway I don’t think we shall have to wait much longer for letters now.

You are constantly in my mind, with the wonder about what you are doing and where you are. A letter just received from Peg, written on May 27th and telling of her visit to poor Mokes in Wales, made us laugh a great deal. In spite of such great anxieties, Peg still seems to find lots of things to poke fun at.

Dad had a letter from Mr Cape by the same mail, in which he said he had had a charming letter from you. He’s a kindly creature!

You have not, I suppose, heard anything about Madame Blok or any of your other French friends? Its hard to imagine what Paris under Nazi control must be like, and what is happening to all the people who earned their livelihood by teaching pupils from other countries, or catering for tourists can be doing. At the moment I feel I should like to read a novel for a little in the evening, but I find it hard to get anything that I like. I have just abandoned an old one of Rose Macauley’s I found about. “Crewe Train”. It seems so completely futile. I have turned instead to a history of America written to be read as a book of pleasure rather than to be studies. It is called “The Epic of America”, and is delightfully easy to read even when one is tired. Dad, who has just finished it, says the writer, one James Truslow Adams, takes up a wonderfully balanced attitude, and does not gloss over America’s faults and mistakes.

OH dear! Here I was interrupted by a visit from the matron of the hospital who is going on her annual month’s holiday in a few days, and came to say good-bye. In a sense it does not matter, for I have really not much to write about. The last few days my mind has been so largely taken up with either reckonings about how many yards of stuff it takes to make how many bandages, or how much wool for this that or the other garment, or with revivals of the knowledge necessary for Girl Guide tests, that I have not had much time to meditate on “many things”, though I have at last got the cook to cook cabbage properly. He is quite excited himself to see how nice it looks when at last he did as he was told and threw the cabbage into quickly boiling water ten minutes before it was to come to table!

If you happen to be at home and have a few minutes leisure, will you write out for me the family receipe for making marmalade? I am intending to make some this autumn, when I can get sour oranges very cheaply. The only oranges in season now are much too sweet.

Best love, my dear
From
Mother

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 14th 1940.

My darling Annette,

The cable giving the splendid news that you have got a “First” gave us pure pleasure! Somehow I had always had a secret belief that you would pull it off, but I did not want to say so, in case; - - - ! Dad, is seems, was not so confident, * perhaps because he knows more intimately what it means to get a First at Oxford. As I have said in my letter to the family, I am especially glad, for you have always worked so well. You have never been a nuisence about your work, or used it as an excuse for non co-operating in other activities. Moreover so much of what you have done in the way of training has been discovered and arranged by yourself. You have been lucky in some of your teachers, I think, though of course I only know a few of them Mdelle Pinault seems to have given you a first class training, and though you were not for long with Madame Block, she seemed to me to be the sort of person who would help you to a good sound understanding both of language and of ideas. It makes me sad to think that in all probability you will not be able to send the news of your success to her. I must write to Lovey! She will be very thrilled. Its a little sad that, circumstances being what they are, you and Gavin will scarcely be able to have much of a splash in the way of a Coming of Age party, which might also in past have celebrated your present success. What an astonishing decade you are growing up in! You will probably see differences in the development of the world such as we scarcely dreamed of before this war, and certainly not before the Kaiser’s War. I am glad to think that you are well equipped to meet what comes, and find some useful place in whatever sort of world arrangement evolves out of the present struggle. I wonder whether any of the people we have been able tp put you in touch with will be able to help you to find the right sort of job.

Its a stroke of luck that some sort of half-and-half Air-Mail is just starting again, so that I hope it wont be so very many weeks till this reaches you. Will you send the enclosed on to Dicky? It seems a pity to waste a little weight space in an Air Mail. Noone has said anything about Gavin lately. Does he still agree with Mr Ghandi is thinking it would be best for us to lay down our arms and invite the Germans to walk over us? It seems so incredible that any sane person can go on advocating that in the fact of what they have done in other countries, that I just give up hope of understanding it. Joyce and Frank held those opinions too, did’nt they?

Have you heard anything of Miss Capstick since the break up of St Monica’s? I imagine you will write to her, and tell her of your success.

I had a sad letter from Anina Brandt. She is now in what they call “The Parole Settlement” at Katapahar. She simply says she cant write. “I feel my life is ruined for good”, she says. I am sorry that her courage, of which she has a great deal, has deserted her for the moment. Its such a pity she cant get a little more outside herself, and see that the authorities could not do otherwise under present circumstances. She seems to think that because she feels so strongly against the Nazi regime, and, as she sees it, sacrificed comfort, safety, and the companionship of her daughter, by leaving Germany, that everyone should believe her and give her credit for it. The fact that hundreds of Germans have had just as good and better stories in Holland and Belgium, she cannot seem to grasp. It would make things easier for her if she could. I wrote her a long letter yesterday, but Heaven knows whether it will not act as an irritant rather than as a comfort!

I wonder whether you have come across any of your French friends, and what they think of the present turn of events in France. Some journalist (I forget his name) was commenting rather effectively on the news, early this morning. Speaking of Petain’s “humble request” to the Germans to be allowed to govern from Versailles, he said he wondered whether the aged Marshal was tired of hearing the ghostly croupiers in the Casino at Vichey, murmuring “Faites vos jeux, Messieurs. Le jeu est fait. Rien na va plus”. How tragic and how pathetic this French business is! How unconscious most of us were of the rot that must have been in the heart-wood of France all this time, and, I suppose, how unconscious were the ordinary Frenchmen, making up the branches and the leaves of the tree. Best love and again, congratulations
Mother

* He partially denies this, saying the only reason he did feel confident was because of the War Conditions – May I also note the reason he did not get a first was that he did his exam with an attack of appendicitis on him – had to sit with the corner of the table shoved into his tummy to prevent himself screeching.

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 14th 1940

My dears,

There was pleasant news in the paper the day before yesterday, and that was that a part-way Air Mail has now been arranged, via Durban. I dont know how long it will take, but presumably it will save quite a bit of time. I imagine that arrangements for the service in the opposite direction will soon be made too. We were told that the first of these Mails would leave “early in the third week of July”, so though it is only Sunday, I am writing a postscript to my last Thursday’s letter and post the copy of that with this, in the belief that they will get ahead of the letters posted by ordinary sea-mail. It will be nice to get news from you a little quicker!

It was a tremendous thrill to get the cable telling us that Annette got a First at Oxford. I think she well deserves it, for she has always worked so steadily. I felt if anyone could withstand the distractions and general sort of strain on the nerves of the particular moment when she had to sit for the exam, it would be Annette. I shall be so interested now to hear how her special friends acquitted themselves, and what work they all turn to. My thoughts turn with gratitude to some of the people who have helped in Annette’s education, especially Mademoiselle Pinault at St Monica’s and Madame Blok in Paris.

Herbert has gone, this morning, to Chandernagore, at the invitation of the Administrateur, M. Baron. Naturally they are not holding the usual “Fourteenth July” celebrations, but they are having a police parade, salute of the French Flag, and then M. Baron is going to address a small gathering described as “intime”. I admire the courage with which both M. and Madame Baron have stood up to this terrible trial. I was rather sorry the invitations were not to ladies as well. I should have liked to be with them. It was nice to hear yesterday that French Indo China is to remain part of “Free France”. I dont know whether that was the reason that Saigon was “on the Air” again last evening. Twice lately I have tried to get it just before dinner, when there is generally a concert, followed by news, and there seems to have been nothing to pick up - Last night there was a comprehensive news bulletin in English, obviously pro-Ally, which was interesting because we had not then heard M. Catroux’s declaration of independence from the Petain Government.

Of personal news I have little to tell. I went to the Angus Jute Mills on Friday afternoon, to attend a show they got up in aid of War Funds. We had indoor sort of deck games, like quoits etc played in competition, for very tiny prizes, and then tea (all of which was given by various ladies). There was an entrance fee of Rs1 each. Later we played that strange game “Housie Housie” which has become so popular on board ship of late years. Each person is given a card with certain numbers on it, and sufficient counters to cover them. Numbers are then read out, and as any number on your card is called, you cover it. Whoever gets all the numbers covered first, shouts out “Housie Housie” (Heaven knows why!) and takes the pool, for each player has to put in an agreed sum each round. The other evening we paid two annas a round. The winner got 25% of this and the other 75% went to the War Fund. Being quite incapable of keeping my mind on games of that sort, distressed neighbours were constantly saying to me “45” or 6 or something or other, has just been called and you hav’nt covered yours up.” This big group of Jute Mills, who are such a big concern that they have their own Club, Swimming pool and golf-course, - - and one or two neighbouring Mills, have been working awfully well since the beginning of the War, and get up some sort of entertainment every month in aid of War Funds, as well as doing a great deal of work.

On Thursday I had a busy evening with the two teachers I am training to be Guide Officers. I have found two fourth year students at the college here, who were at school in Calcutta and have both been Guides, and they are going to help with the company, which is rather a load off my mind, because they were both at the Duff School in Calcutta which is run by the Scotch Mission, and where the Guide Companies are very good, so I am pretty sure to know their stuff! One of them came round to help us the other evening, and we did fire-lighting amongst other things, always rather a popular item of Guide training. I have the same party coming on Monday and on Wednesday evenings for I want to get these young women quickly through their training, so that we may get the company started. It is rather fun doing some Guide work again.

We’ve had some real wet stormy days lately, and some, of which to-day is one, of pretty April weather, during which the plants and especially the weds in the garden grow ferociously. Its been fairly cool on the whole, and on many days I have scarcely used a fan, since there has been such a strong breeze blowing through the house.

Best love to you all,
LJT

Family letter from LJT

(hand written note at top ‘Have used both sides of the paper to save weight.’)

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 21st 1940.

My dears,

Against the background of the great events in the world, Roosevelt’s decision to run again for the Presidency:- Hitler’s speech:- the sinking of the Italian cruiser:- and the daily news of air raids, our little lives go on busily enough. For me the week has been full of work with the various Ladies Committees to do with the War Work, and a lot of time given to training the teachers from the Girls High English School to be Girl Guide Officers. I had one long and busy day in Calcutta, during which I spent a good time in the Girl Guide Office, and felt rather glad to be back there again. Its a place with such a nice atmosphere. I paid a brief visit to Winsome on my out to lunch with Louise Ranken in Alipore. Louise, like Edward Groth, another American with whom I dined in the evening, wishes that Mr. Wilkie would get the Presidency, as they think he is a much sounder financier, and that his foreign policy would be every bit as favourable to Britain as Roosevelt’s. Its curious how everyone who has met Roosevelt speaks of his charm, however much they disapprove of his policy. Edward G says “Oh, my! That man could charm the head off a donkey”. My visit to Calcutta had really been arranged in order to give me an undisturbed afternoon to have the sides of my hair “permed”, but on Wednesday while I was sitting writing, a violent wind suddenly sprang up from the East, and looking up, I saw a wall of rain rapidly approaching across the river. I called to the servants, and ran to shut the windows on the Eastern side of the house. Seeing one of the chairs was standing out near the edge of the east verandah, I ran on to the verandah to pull it back. The slippery patent stone floor was already wet, and my feet slipped from under me, and I fell crack with the left-back side of my head on the door sill. For a moment the world swung round me, as I sat up and held my head in my hands. The old chaprassi who arrived just as I fell, stood beside me saying, “Shall I pick you up. Shall I pick you up?” At that moment, I did not realize that blood was pouring from a cut on my head, and made quite an alarming spectacle. In a second or two I recovered, and got to my feet, not unduly alarmed about the blood, for I know a small scalp wound is capable of pouring out quantities of gore. After sitting for a few seconds, and having a drink of water, I went and collected cotton-wool and dettol and went down to Herbert’s office to get him to do a little cleaning up for me. He found a cut about two inches long a few inches above and behind my left ear. Its healed up now, but it was still open, or rather I knew it would not have healed up sufficiently to allow of shampoo and all the rest by Friday, so I had to put off my appointment with the hairdressers. It gave me a nice free afternoon to see Mrs. Hance, who used to live below us in Rowland Rd, and who has been away from Calcutta for a time. She had phoned and told me she was back and wanted to consult me about something. This something is an idea of starting a school for the large number of big children who are being brought out here by parents, who do not want to send them to the ordinary schools which are full of Anglo-Indians, with terrific chi-chi accents, and rather queer moral standards about such things as telling lies and cheating. Mrs. Hance has worked as a teacher in the past and is a very able woman. I think she would run a school excellently. The usual difficulty is capital to start it, and responsibility for rent. An awkward feature of the whole business is that suppose the war should stop within six months, the pupils will all disappear back to Europe. We had an interesting hour or more discussing possibilities, and I shall probably hear some more about it to-day when Walther Jenkins is coming out here, for Mrs. Hance was going to see him on Saturday about it. He is the No 2 man in the Education Dept out here, and was investigating Governments plan to start such a school last Spring, but found there was not sufficient support for it. Circumstances have greatly changed now, and I think there would be plenty of pupils. I hope Mrs. Hance will be able to do it, and make a success of it. She is such a plucky woman, and has kept their family flag flying for years. Her husbands nerves were badly knocked to bits in the last war, and he, once a brilliant person, has had one reverse after another. He is still always going to make a fortune in the next few months “if only - -”! Meanwhile Mrs Hance earns the bread and butter and keeps a roof over their heads. Mr. Hance joined us at tea, and was most amusingly excited over Annette’s achievement in getting a First, and sent her all sorts of messages although he does not know her.

We have heard such an amusing story this week that I think I must pass it on to you. Our Judge, a Bengali gentleman with an Oxford education, married the daughter of a very wealthy man. They had two daughters. The wife’s father died, and left his daughter sixty thousand rupees, which was to be increased to a Lakh if she had a son within a certain period of years. A sadhu or Holy Man turned up at the place where they were then stationed and told Mr C that everything could be arranged for the sum of one thousand rupees. He must go through the ordeal by fire at the burning ghat on the night of the full moon, and no one must see the ceremonies. The fee must be payed in advance. All was arranged. The whole of the Judicial Office staff of peons and chaprassis (messengers) were turned out to guard the place from interference. The ceremonies were scarcely over, when police arrived from Calcutta, hot foot on the track of the pseudo Sadhu, who was an absconding criminal. However he had managed his get-away, plus Mr C’s thousand rupees, and as far as I heard, was never caught. Nor did the eminent judge and his wife ever get the promised son! This story was told to us with great glee by another Indian I.C.S. officer and his wife, and vouched for by our D.I.G. of police who was in the station where this incident took place, and at the time of the happening. Well perhaps a belief n Holy Men and Magic does not interfere with dispensing justice. This reminds me of the famous tale of the magic tea-cup in Jalpaiguri, which led its owner to the place where stolen property was hidden, but went astray in the hands of the police, who thought it would be a useful asset, and caused a strike amongst the sweepers!

We get irritated with the entire lack of realization of what the war means amongst the Bengalis, and many other sections of the Indian public. Their outlook is completely utilitarian and selfish. They are grudgingly prepared to subscribe a little money or take a little trouble to help the War Effort if they can be persuaded that their own safety or comfort is really likely to be affected, but not otherwise. Trying to understand how their minds are working is rather like trying to disentangle rather a confused dream. Of course this is a sweeping generalization, and there are many notable exceptions. It applies to the great middle class. One can scarcely expect the illiterate cultivator to understand or feel excited about a war which seems to him at the other end of the world. I expect that the attitude is very different in the N.W.F.P. and the Punjab, probably in the U.P. too. It is also different amongst the aristocracy of India, and many of the top layer of successful professional men and officials. Mrs. Chakravarty here, is working marvellously at collecting money and she and her husband are doing everything they can to help.

We are having pleasant cool showery weather, and I have used the fans comparatively little. Herbert is keeping fairly fit and cheerful. He has been working away in the garden most evenings, but I have had other things to do almost every night. It was quite a treat to have an undisturbed evenings gardening last night.

22.7.40. I had to stop yesterday, when Walter Jenkins arrived, but I don’t think I have much to add except the usual messages of affection and constant hopes for your safely. There was a sea-mail from home on Saturday but I only got a letter, posted for Air Mail, but too late for the last one, from a young I.C.S man on leave, announcing his marriage.

Best love to you all.
LJT

From HPV to Romey

Chinsurah, July 21st, 1940

My dear Rosemary,

This time there is some news. There was a loud crying for people to come and shut windows quickly, for a black storm was blowing across the river. Me, I did nothing, for I was working and my windows were shut anyhow. But it was an error, for upstairs your mother had slipped on the wet stone of the verandah and had ‘cracked her crown’. She bled with a profusion described to me by the chaprassi afterwards, with much glee, and after a bit came down to have me sponge off blood and such. She refused to have bits of hair cut off--which is a charm well known--until the next morning, when I washed off clotted blood again. This is the fourth day, and the place is healing well now, I think.
Col. Murray, who was doctor here, has left and there is now only an Assistant Surgeon. Assistant Surgeons qualify after training and exams much less rigorous than any doctor can qualify in England; some are quite good, but as a rule they do not inspire confidence.
The rains are here but it has not been raining. Not hard. If there is not copious rain soon, the crops will be suffering. They won’t get them planted in the fields for the most part. Last year there were floods, and the year before, drought. In such years the people say that they much want my irrigation plus drainage schemes, but as soon as a year of good rain comes, they swing the other way. With the war on, there is not much chance of their getting schemes put through, but they are talking about them.
This evening I watched the most dainty of baby squirrels in the garden. It had fallen out of a plant grown up the side of the servant’s godown, the dog was leaping about not far away, and two grown squirrels were barking angrily, whether at the dog or at the youngster. The mali was working close to the place within a few feet of the little one, and there was general fear. Him I caused to remove himself and the dog. The mother came down, led the way half up the tree and then went off, and the little one had a hard struggle getting over the edge of the cornice onto the roof. An adventure for what must have been a first outing about.
The dog is a hairy dog with no substance inside the hair. I don’t like him over much, though I do my best to hide it, calling him affectionate names, such as ‘piddle-taker’ and ‘tumble-bug’. He has learnt one thing only - to sit in the corner during meals if I was at him. But come to a call, he will not, and though I have told him several times to consider himself soundly beaten, he comes not. If there was any substance to him, I should catch him a light smack, as Anglo Indians say.
The stars have joined up. In other words, those that I learnt last November, are beginning to show up again. But through rifts in clouds not over easy to identify. On the strength of attending the ‘Taking of Bastille’ ceremony at Chandenagore and not making a speech, I have gone back to learning French. All the Linguaphone records are warped. I comforted the Administrateur by reminding him that the French had beaten hell out of the English when they overran the country; but as it took the miracle of Jeanne d’Arc and civil war in England to bring this about. I don’t know that the comfort was very real. It is a sad thing for the French.
My dear, put your back into things and continue to inform us.

Much love, Dad

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 22nd 1940

My darling Annette,

Such a lot of people have sent you messages of congratulation, people who knew you as a little girl, and people who only know you from being intimate friends of ours. Mr Hance, who is a most excitable person, seemed quite thrilled, and turning to his wife said, “There! That’s worth doing! What a contrast to the Theobald’s daughter, on whom they lavished money for extra coaching, and then she got a Third in History! Why! Most people could get a Third in History without going to the university at all.” As I was going away, he called down the stairs after me. “Give my congratulations to your daughter though I hav’nt the pleasure of knowing her”. Lorna Janvrin was another who showed interest and sent messages.

You may be amused to hear that I am still reading “The Epic of America”. The fact is that my early morning time for reading, is now taken up with listening to those admirable talks “Britain Speaks”, followed by the news and a commentry. In the evenings I have never bathed and sat down till nearly eight o’clock, and then as a rule hav’nt read the newspaper. After dinner we sometimes listen to the Wireless, or often Dad reads scraps aloud from his book so that its not much use my trying to read, and I sew instead. In spite of taking it so slowly, I am greatly enjoying the book, and feel it does help most considerably to an understanding of America. Edward Groth has lent me another book “America Comes of Age” which he says makes an excellent follow-on to “The Epic”. I spent such a pleasant evening with him on Friday. I went round to his flat about 7 p.m., and we sat at either end of his very long couch, sipping pine-apple juice, and talking at large of all manner of things. Later we dined out on the verandah, and about 9.30 I came home. that’s the sort of thing I really most enjoy, I think, especially when the partner in talk has a rich mind and great opportunities of knowing different countries and different sorts of peoples and their philosophies of life. The good type of American is better than the Britisher, I think, in investigating the ways of life and methods of thought and belief of the peoples amongst whom he is temporarily living. I find Louise Ranken the same, and talk with her ranges in the same delightful way. She sent us Mark Twain’s “Note Book” as a little memento of her visit here, and Herbert has been enjoying it and reading many of the tit bits aloud. Mark Twain is still chucklingly funny, I think. His absurdity, and ability to see and record the ridiculous whenever he came across it, has not dated. Amongst notes about a visit to Washington was one which delighted Herbert. “Got acquainted with General Grant - -Said I was glad to see him. - - He said, I had the advantage of him” - -

I remain, and become daily more grateful to the B.B.C for making me feel that although so far away, I can come near to England in understanding something of what is going on. The talks and commentries, and some of the descriptions of outstanding or of ordinary events, make one feel that one can understand peoples’ actions and reactions and their spirit to some degree. Our newspapers don’t do that for us at all, - - at least I dont feel they do.

Dad is really in rather good form these days. Long may it last? Can it, do you suppose, be due to giving up eggs and taking vitamin pills? Edward Groth has started planning a trip for us to go home across America and Canada. He says there are so many places to see, we’ll have to make up our minds to spend a long time over it! I say, if it comes after we have retired, maybe we could spend the time, but I’m not so sure about the money. To come home that way, I must say, is a dream worth dreaming!

It will be tremendously interesting to hear what you are doing

Best love and all blessing on you
Mother

From LJT to Romey

From LJT to Romey

Chinsurah, July 26th, 1940

My darling Romey,

Still we have no sea-mail letters from home. Some English letters did arrive in Calcutta yesterday, but there were none from Highways. I think actually this mail was posted only just after the last Air-Mail that got through.
Your visit to Canada, has made me take a new interest in the country, and I have been studying the map, and feel almost appalled at the size of the place! One of the things I am anxious to know is how far you actually are from Lake Winnipeg, and whether you often get up there. In the book on American History, “The Epic of America” which I am reading with such interest, I have learnt something of the early history of the development of Canada. As well as America, in the days when America was also a British possession. Now I feel I want to read more books about Canada and its amazing development in the last few decades. There was an interesting article on Nova Scotia, from which Dad’s and Cousin Susie’s people come, in a recent issue of Geographical Magazine. I found it most fascinating. I wish they would have one on Winnipeg. On of the byproducts of this war is going to be an enormous spread of knowledge that one part of the British Empire has about other parts, as well a some understanding by one class of people of how other classes of people live and think. The evacuation of children from the towns into the country places should have this result, and the sending of so many children overseas, to different parts of the Empire, while troops from those places come to England.
I forget whether we had actually heard from the bank that we are to be allowed to send you 125 dollars a quarter from India, which, with the Canadian money, and the 25o dollars we have already sent, plus whatever you have been able to take from England, will be enough to keep you going. I am writing Cousin Susie about it.
There is much talk going on here about arrangements for carrying on the education of the many big children who have arrived or are on their way to India. Dr Jenkins is acting for the Government of Bengal in this respect, and we discussed many plans when he was here over the weekend. It interests me very much, though I have no child here to provide for! There is a possibility that Lovey might be asked to come down from Darjeeling for the Cold weather and take charge of the Junior section of some such school. The children wanting education will number certainly more than 200, perhaps a great many more.
It’s odd that I can’t feel the same fondness for this little Australian terrier as I do for almost any “proper dog” who is even a casual acquaintance. I can see that Puchi is a nice little fellow, and he is intelligent, and brave (much braver than Maxie, who I am sorry to say is not one of the world’s heroes) --- but he doesn’t move me to any warm tender affection, as for instance, young Sally, Maxie’s daughter, who lives close by here, does, nor even as the doctor’s stout bull terrier, also called Sally, used to do. Luckily the lad, aged about fourteen, who is training as an under-bearer in the house, is immensely fond of Puchi, and plays with him a great deal. The chokra says that Puchi becomes “puggle ke muafik” (like a fool) when he plays, but is really so wise that he is like a munshi (teacher). Puchi has a habit that never fails to make me laugh. When he wants to sleep, he digs most busily on the marble or patent stone floor, first with one little paw, and then with the other, and when he feels that he has made a really comfortable hole (!!) he lies down with an air of the greatest satisfaction.
I expect you hated saying good-bye, or more probably not being able to say a personal good-bye to all your animals at Highways. They will miss you badly, too. Aunt must feel very odd with so many of her brood away. I wonder whether she has any troops quartered at Highways. I should think she very probably does by now. It well be a great relief from anxiety for her to have you and John safely away. Annette will , I imagine, have got a job of some sort. I wonder what is happening to Gavin or what his reactions to all this are. End of page, so Best love, my darling,

Mother

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 27th 1940.

My dears,

The Indian Astrologers must have done about as much to discountenance their art, with their prophecies about Hitler, as one would think would cause them to hide their faces in shame. But last week the papers reported that a well known astrologer of Lahore had read in the portents of the stars that Hitler’s plans will begin to go wrong from July 27th, and that between August 9th and 19th (I am not positive that I have remembered the exact dates) he will try to commit suicide, but he will not succeed for it is his fate to be a prisoner of the English. So there you are! I profoundly hope they may prove to be right, but if they are, I don’t think it will prove much about astrology, because according to previous prophecies Hitler would have been dead and the war finished by the end of last September, and there have been a series of prophecies of a similar sort oat intervals ever since.

With this pause in Hitler’s more violent and widespread activities against us, our every-day lives seem to click into some sort of focus again, and once more it seems worth while to carry on our small activities and to let our minds dwell on personal affairs. It was curious how, when disaster followed on disaster, ones personal life became null and void, and one felt oneself only as a part of some greater whole, that was suffering grievous hurt. It was this feeling that roused Britain to the splendid standard of mind and behaviour, of which we hear accounts with such pride. It has roused India, or I should say the Europeans in India to some extent too, but lack of opportunity for actual personal service has caused some slipping back in some places I think. I also think its only a superficial slipping. Given the opportunity to give real service to help defend the Empire, I think the response would be every bit as good as it has been in England. There has been great disgust amongst the Europeans out here because an impression has been given that they were not willing to serve and that therefore some sort of compulsory service has been introduced. The fact is that almost all the young and youngish British men, and some of the old ones too, volunteered immediately, and did all they could to be allowed to join up, only to be told that men were not wanted and that they served their country best by sticking to their peace-time jobs. It seems that the Army authorities out here did everything they could to discourage the enthusiasm of the Auxiliary Services. I suppose it is part of that Simla Rot, which became so famous in the last war. There are signs that recent circumstances have checked the rot, and encouraged some healthy growth on that far-away mountain-top, but there would be general rejoicing in India if news came that the C in C was going to be replaced by a younger man.

Again my week has been largely taken up by Girl Guides, and by War Work: i.e. giving out and receiving knitting and bandages, and making some myself, and overseeing the activities for collecting money. There is a good deal of writing, telephoning, and seeing people connected with this, and it takes up a lot of time in an indefinite sort of way. My Guide activities are going ahead satisfactorily, and we actually start the company and the Flock next Wednesday.

Herbert had to go down to Calcutta on Thursday, for a meeting and to see various people, and I went too. I always have some marketing and work for the Himalayan Club to do, and I took the opportunity to lunch with an Indian friend, who has been on my list of promised visits for a long while. Herbert wanted a comic film and it happened that most of the films showing were of a tragic nature. Personally I would like to have gone to see “Grapes of Wrath”, but Herbert felt he could not bear it, so we went to see George Formby in an absurd knock-about thing called “Trouble Brewing”. We had neither of us seen him before, and both think him rather good, and capable of being an excellent comedian under a good director, but one gets so tired of, and irritated by , the absurd, exaggerated situations and behaviour in this type of film.

I have started a fresh page, but I don’t know that I have much of interest to talk to you about. There has been a good deal of English sea-borne mail coming in during the last few days, but it all left England about the same time as the last Air-Mail, so we have no letters from Highways yet. We must defer our hopes and expectations for another week.

One of the projects that is interesting people greatly at the moment is that of a school for the big children who are coming out here, or have already arrived. I told you last week that Mrs. Hance had been investigating possibilities, and was going to get in touch with Government about it. It seems that Government, in the person of Walter Jenkins, had already begun to move about it, and a meeting of parents has been called for Monday next. One idea is to get the Viceroy’s House in Alipore, “Belevedere”, which he only occupies for two or three weeks at Christmas time. He has talked so much about doing his best to help on any educational scheme, that it will be difficult for him to refuse this request, and extremely dog-in-the-manger if he does. It will be interesting to see what evolved from all this. Quite a number of unexpected people turn out to be ex-teachers, or people with excellent qualifications of some sort or another, and are willing to take part time work. There are questions out here which do not arise in cool countries. Most schools for Europeans and good class Anglo-Indians are in the Hills, and have one long term of nine months and a three months holiday from mid-December to mid-March. This has obvious drawbacks, and from the point of view of the proposed school, it would be much more difficult to get a staff of well-qualified teachers in the Hills, because many of the people available are married women, who would not be willing to go away from Calcutta. One of the great drawbacks of having children in their teens out here, which is lack of companions of their own age, will automatically disappear during the next few months. Even so its a bad country for them, and I am profoundly thankful that Rosemary is in Canada.

Have I mentioned that Maxie’s daughter, Sally, has come down from Kashmir, and has grown enormously during the two months she has been away. She is a most attractive pup, and I feel almost sad that I did not keep her for myself, but then I should have grown much too fond of her! She is bigger and heavier than little Puchi, the Australian terrier I am looking after for Anina Brandt, and the first few times she came over here, she kept on bowling Puchi over, and playing with him with never a pause, till the poor little beast got quite exhausted. He has now learnt that when he has had enough for the moment, if he growls and shows his teeth, saying sufficiently rude things, Sally retires to the distance of a few feet, with a surprised expression n her face, and lies down with her nose on her paws looking at him. This interlude only lasts a few minutes, when she springs up, and launches herself at him once more! By the way, Herbert reviving old memories in Mark Twain’s “More Tramps Abroad” came across a marvellous description of a dachshound. It is a perfect picture of Maxie! If I can find the time and the energy I shall copy it out for Harry and Winsome and Charlotte. I must say we still find Mark Twain astonishingly funny! He seems to have a rich gurgling appreciation of the truly absurd, which has not staled one wit.

I still listen with great pleasure and profit to the Daventry broadcasts to North America, in the early morning. I have felt quite sad while J.B. Priestly has been away for a week with a bad cold, and was delighted when he came on the air again yesterday morning. I like and admire many of the other men who do this series of “Britain Speaks”, but Priestly is the one who, more than them all, makes one feel in close touch with England. Its perhaps a bit hard for you all to realize what that means to us in these days.

Best love and greetings to you all,
LJT

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
July 27th 1940

My darling Annette,

Though your birthday seems such a long way ahead, it is perhaps as well in these days of slow mails, to begin asking what you would like for your Coming-of-age present? We spent a little over £5 on Richard’s binoculars as far as I remember, and would like to spend the same sort of amount on you. Its a bad time for shopping I suppose, and if you prefer, bank the money and wait till after the War to buy what you want. It is a pity you were not twenty-one last year when you could have had your present and your party undisturbed by Hitler.

In the papers to-day there are the first pictures of Air-raid damage in England. When a bomb does hit a house it seems to destroy it pretty completely! I was pleased to see the lighter side represented by the inevitable small boy, with hands in pockets, enjoying the excitement of the spectacle. It brings home to us a bit more nearly, what you may experience at any time.

Have you ever come across people who firmly believe that the prophecies of the Old Testament relate exactly to present day events? I met one such last night, and most unexpectedly. It was a woman probably some five years younger than myself, who as wife to the heir of one of the wealthiest Jute Mill owners in the Calcutta of the last War and post-war period, has always moved in what one might call the highest circles of Calcutta Society. She is a gay charming creature, who has always kept herself from being too greatly entangled in the social round, but it startled me yesterday to find that she is enthralled with the study of the books of Isiah and Daniel, and their relation to present events. I have once or twice before tried to feel an interest in these sort of subjects, but the books I have seen and the arguments I have heard, have never seemed to me in the least convincing. I have always thought that any one with a quick inventive mine and some knowledge of Logic could fit the words of the prophets to meet any sort of world crisis or war. Well according to Doris Birkmyre the moment for the fall of Hitler is at hand, so let us hope that her readings of the Prophets is correct! Just as I hope that the latest prophecies of the Indian astrologers are correct!

I have scarcely succeeded in reading at all this week! I listen to the radio in the early mornings, and Dad has been reading aloud so much out of Mark Twain’s Note Book and his “More Tramps Abroad”, that its been just hopeless to try to read a serious book at the same time. As it is I am not sure that I have not got the dreadful post-civil-war and post-Lincoln’s-murder period in my book on American history, confused with absurd incidents which Mark Twain came across in all parts of the world, but especially on the Missisippi, for those fit better into the American picture.

So many people ask me what you are going to do now, that I get quite tired of saying I dont know. I dont quite know how they expect me to know!

Suddenly my mind has run quite dry, and I dont know what more to say, so I expect the best thing is to stop. Dad and I are still feeling a glow of pride about you!

Best love
Mother

Family letter from HPV

Chinsurah.
Bengal.
July 30th. 1940

Dear Everyone,

I resume circular letters, having got this old Underwood portable out of the office, where it has been lying. My stenographer, who has diabetes, has recently had influenza too, and came back to work before he was fit: so I have been typing some demi-official letters myself, starting each one with the mistake that opens this. Writing three letters a week to the family has been too much of a strain: that is why I have never done it and in a sense why I have written to no one most weeks. That and lying on my back each evening. You have probably guessed by now that your mother has gone to Calcutta: shopping and hair-doing. Her head has healed up again; it was not a deep cut, but bled vigorously; I had not heard the fall though I had heard the crying out for the chaprassis to come and shut windows against the squall of rain sweeping across the river and it was a sad surprise to me to have her come down to have her head seen to. I am no expert in seeing to heads. This evening as I sat after tea (it has become a custom for that flea of a dog to demand some too, sandwiches cake and such) there came a crash like a bomb going off; the glass shade had fallen off the big lamp in the hall, some twenty five feet onto the marble floor. No one hurt. All the servants came and walked bare-foot on top of the broken glass to show each other how much of it there was, and I went into the garden quickly lest I should be there when the blood started flowing.

After getting nearly up to date, I have relapsed this week or last. Partly the mere number of the files that came dolloping on me, partly the the complexity of some among (that second the is a confession of defeat) them, and partly having to go to Calcutta for a meeting (because to resume the aside it is a point of honour when I make a mistake of that sort to work it into the beginning of some word that fits the context and hides the error). That flea-dog is barking, a thing forbidden: last night he chased jackal on the lawn in the dark and was turned back in flight and bowled over screaming. The meeting was the jute-census committee’s and as usual rather a farce; random sampling, which is its task, is a severely technical matter, in which the statistician can go sadly wrong if he has not a practical knowledge of the things being sampled, and in this case the statistician had not that knowledge of jute while the jute people are scared of the statistics. The criticisms were all put forward by me who know neither the statistics end nor the jute end of the matter but do not mind confessing ignorance: and by luck they all touched the spot and led Mahalanobis into rather heated self-defense. All the jute men chimed in happily once the explanations started and they tumbled to what was up. Amusing in a way, but tiring. We went to a film afterwards; George Formby, who might be good if controlled by some strict producer. And I was collapsed with weariness by the time we got back here. As you know, it is the established custom for wives to tell each other of the things that cured their husbands of precisely what is obviously the matter with the others’ husbands, and I am always being put on courses thus recommended . . . . . though at the moment I can think of only the Liver-Mucks as an example. Anyhow I have been put onto Vitamin Pills which cured the American, Mr. Rankin: and your mother thinks that they have done some good. Certainly last week before one night when I failed to sleep for some hours it seemed like it. However I had a stiff neck and lamented the fact that I was not in Calcutta to go to the Chiropractor and that if I was there I wouldn’t because he charges so outrageously.

The speech that I made at Chandernagore in French on Bastille day (or rather that I wished afterwards that I had had the courage to attempt but did not even think of at the time) set my mind to the learning of French again and I got out the disques gramophonics; children they were warped to the semblance of saucers, or if you think that exaggerated say cabbage leaves. So I returned to the Dame and learnt two pages of conversation by heart. However there is too much lying about flat in the evenings after the day’s weariness to allow much in the study line. Finish.

Much love
Dad