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The Townend Family Letters

Correspondence from the 1930s - 1940s between members of the Townend family
HPV + LJT Letters 1939 to 1941

1940 June

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
June 5th 1940

My darling Annette,

As the days go by, one cant help becoming more and more anxious about the people one loves in England. I am trying to get Dad to consider the question of whether we should suggest to Aunt that if things look very dangerous, she should try to send Romey out to us at the beginning of the Summer holidays. Dont please mention this to her at all, for I do not want her to know of any possibility and then de disappointed. I am undecided about it myself. I don’t want to panic, but I do feel rather dreadful sitting out here in safety, while, you, my children, are exposed to risks. There is also the question of you, yourself. I think it is rather different from the problem of Rosemary. You are of an age to make decisions for yourself, and in a few weeks time, you will be equipped for a job in life of some sort. I think you will feel that you want to serve your country in some way, and not twiddle your thumbs out here. Its easy to feel like that of course, when one is far away, but it is a different thing to have to take the decision when the danger is ever present of raids from the air, so I should not be critical if you decide that you would like to come out here, and would set to to see how to raise money enough for an extra passage. Another question is the possibility of getting passages either by sea or air. Many people are talking of fetching their children out, and maybe there will be a great rush on accomodation. Finding it difficult to be cheerful and brave here, I so constantly think of all of you in England, and wonder how hard you find it to “keep your tails up” under the strain and anxiety to which you are subjugated. Its hard luck on you having to try to concentrate on your examination work under conditions like the present. I hope you are managing to preserve the ability to lose yourself in your study. Forgive me if I am being too gloomy, but if I don’t express something of what I feel, you may have the impression that I don’t realize at all what you are all going through.

Romey writes cheerfully, and never mentions the war, so I hope she is not being too severely tried. She said she was just about to go out with you, and was taking Rosemary Earle too, and that later she wanted to take our Margaret Evans if possible. I’ll be grateful if you can arrange it, for I don’t like Romey to always receiving benefits and never able to do things for others. You can bill me for all the expenses.

My mind feels almost paralysed for writing about ordinary chatty things. We listened to Winston Churchills’ statement about the battle in Flanders last night, and have just been reading more in the papers. Grief for the awful loss of life, for the suffering and endurance, and yet pride in the courage and grit both of the rescuers and the rescued, seem to fill the horizon of ones mind. Its always possible to concentrate on the small everyday things that have to be done, but to think or write at large about things unconnected with this huge event, which effects us all so closely, seems beyond me. I shall try to write an ordinary letter to the family to-morrow. Feelings will perhaps have settled a little by then. Please forgive me, therefore if I don’t write more now.

Best love to you, and blessings upon you.
Mother


Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
June 6th 1940

My Dears, How tired you must get of reading week after week that I find it hard to write, because my mind is full of the War, but, alas! it goes on being true. Last week we were waiting in dreadful suspense for news of the Allied armies in Flanders. Now we wait for news of the battle on the Somme.

Switching my mind away from Europe for the moment, I am teased by a minor annoyance and problem that has to be delt with. Money has gone from my dressing case where I keep my cash locked up. I was badly out in my accounts, and could not trace any error. Now I have just discovered that a ten rupee note has gone out of the envelope where I have some cash belonging to the Church, which I have not put into the bank, because we are going to have repairs to chairs and footstools carried out and will need this cash to pay for them. I don’t know how it will be best to deal with the matter. Money, unless it is in big notes of Rs 100 or over, is terribly difficult to trace, but though I have little hope of getting back the cash, - - not in itself a very considerable sum, I would like to find out who has taken it!

The monsoon has retreated and left us with nasty hot damp weather, without much breeze, rather like we generally get in September. Its always rather trying and inclined to be depressing, and we long for the rain to come back again.

On Thursday night last Idris Matthews rang us up to tell us, firstly that the Southern Cross was showing well, and had we seen it? and secondly to give us the news of his transfer to Delhi/Simla. He is sorry to be going though it is in a sense, promotion, for the billet he is taking up as Assistant Director of Ordanance Factories is a stepping stone to becoming Director in a few years. it is a secretariat billet, involving the making of plans etc and a good deal of inspection work, but not the actual management of a factory turning out guns and shells. Idris has been at Cossipore as Superintendent for ten years, and has seen the factory expand enormously, especially during the last six months, and he is loath to leave it! I am glad that a man of his drive and ability is going to Simla, for so many there are emeshed in red tape, and cant get free of it even in a crisis like the present. I am also glad for the sake of Idris’ health. He has had very little leave during the last six or seven years, and a few months in the cool climate of Simla should be very good for him. On Thursday he asked whether I could not go for at any rate one more short flight with him, before he went, and also whether I could find time to advise him about his furniture, so I said I would go to Cossipore on Saturday in time for tea, and stay the night there, so that we could fly early in the morning, and devote the later part of the day to furniture lists. When I got to Cossipore, we decided to go in to the 6 o’clock pictures, and went to see Gordon Harker in “Inspector Hornleigh on Holiday” Its really a poor film, but it made us laugh a bit, which I suppose is a good thing these days. It was a beautiful morning on Sunday and we left the house at 7.30 for DumDum. As soon as we were up in the air, Idris gave me the stick and suggested that we should fly over Chinsurah to say good-morning to Herbert and Chandanagore to greet the Barons. He did not have to give me any instructions except to say “A little more left rudder” when I was turning over the river north of Chinsurah, and then to tell me I could drop a bit over Chinsurah. I had been keeping the plane at the altitude of 1,7oo feet at which he handed her over to me. It was lovely being in the air again, and though it is a long time since I had handled a machine, I felt much more at home doing it than I had before. I only handed the stick back to Idris when we had partially done the circuit of the areodrome on our return. He did a most exciting landing pretending that he had only got the space between the fence and the run-way to make use of. He slide-slipped down over some trees, skimmed close above the fence, after flattening out, and touched ground a very little way inside the ‘drome, pulling up easily within 50 yards. He was landing against a fair breeze, and there was a good deal of thickish grass on the ground, which all help to pull the plane up in a short distance, of course. Neverthe-less it was a pretty piece of work. We had breakfast at the Flying Club, and watched pupils practicising landings, and the French Air-Mail’s arrival. The passengers all came over to the Club for breakfast, and as I looked at them and wondered what were the different reasons for them to hurry back to war-smitten France. Back at Cossipore, Idris and I set to, and made a complete list of all his furniture, with prices. I have strongly advised him to sell it all. In Delhi/Simla he will live in hotels, or if he is allotted a house in Delhi, it will be furnished. He is troubled about the squirrels and the birds, who are his pets, for he does not think the man who is taking his place will be interested in them. As there is no way of getting them to move, I’m afraid they will just have to learn their own livings as they used to do! I shall miss Idris very much, but I hope we shall see him occasionally when he comes down here to inspect. He will probably have to lay his plane up for the next few months while he is in Simla. After lunch I came back here, arriving in time for tea, and Herbert and I spent a busy evening in the garden disentangling and tying up four creepers, which had to be pulled down from the wall above the river, while it was being repaired. It was quite a job, for the workmen have been ages over the wall, and the creepers had grown a good deal meanwhile, but it was rather fascinating getting them nicely sorted out and properly arranged.

We were down in Calcutta on Friday. Herbert had two official meetings, one in the morning, and one in the afternoon. It was a good opportunity for me to take in last month’s supply of war-work, and get a new lot, and also to do a little Himalayan Club work. Several proposed small expeditions have been cancelled, and there is not much doing in one way, but I want to use the clerk’s time in getting various things straightened out. For instance for a long time I have been jotting down any bits of information that might be useful to an Hony Secretary taking over from me, and these I discussed with Probodh Babu, and left with him to tabulate. I had been going to lunch with Charles Crawford, but he rang up in the early morning to say that his colleague had gone sick and that he had so much work ahead of him during the day, that he did not see how he was going to find time to get out for lunch, and would probably have a few sandwiches and an orange in office. I promptly rang up Louise Ranken, and fixed to lunch with her. Though she is American she is one of the people I find it most comforting to be with in these days. How bitterly many of the Americans feel not coming into the War. I went to an old friend for tea, whose husband is Commissioner of the Division in which Calcutta is, known as “The Presidency Division”. Her husband was at the same meeting with Herbert, and brought Herbert back to tea there too, and we sat talking for a long while. The Grahams were on the eve of flying home, for four months leave, and they actually left on Monday, I hear. On Friday they were wondering whether anything would crop up to prevent them going. The latter part of the evening we spent with Harry and Winsome, and had dinner with them before driving back to Chinsurah.

The week otherwise has been only full of little local doings. I took war-work up to the Dunlop Rubber Co on Monday, and I have spent a good deal of time cutting out bandages, sorting and sending them and wool, out to different people, and sewing away at my own quota. India is full of talk about what to do in the way of a war effort. There is a wish to do something amongst a very large number of the people, I think, but except for giving money, or for the races who can enlist in the army or air-force, its hard to see what people can do, except use their influence to counter-act Congress ideas. My driver came to me and asked what he and other drivers could do. He said that the man who runs one of the local petrol pumps and small repair shops, and who is Secretary of the bus-drivers association, was anxious to come to see me and find out what they could do, so he came the other morning and we had a long talk. He agreed to collect from the bus, and other drivers, according to what they wanted to give, and to take the result, with the book in which they are all to sign their names against what they have given, to the big meeting which is to take place this afternoon. We are all completely fed up with our Bengal Government. They have become even more petty and communal than before, instead of rising above such things in a moment of crisis.

Best love to you all
LJT


From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
June 12th 1940

My darling Annette,

If you succeed in doing even moderately well in your exams considering the state of tension in the world while you are sitting for them, I think it will be marvellous! Your letter written on the 23rd May gave the cheering news that your German vocabulary seemed suddenly to have clicked into place. It now seems impossible to give you any further advice about your immediate future. Its comforting to know that you have plenty of common sense, and are now in touch with one or two people who can advise you. The news has been pretty grim the last few days, so grim that its hard to retain any sort of cheerfulness, and yet I do have faith that that the sort of ideals for which we are fighting must be triumphant in the end. The cost is too horrible to contemplate. Ones mind recoils from it, perhaps luckily, or else we might all simply melt away with grief. Luckily too, there is much to give us pride in the way the Allied armies are fighting, and it seems that war does bring out the best in people as well as (sometimes) the worst. I find it so hard not to keep casting my mind back and saying “Why did we not do this or that?” I know its stupid, and I am trying not to do it, but I wish I had some job that would make me work hard, so that I could put all my energy into that, and not have so much time for thinking at large, so to speak. At times I have been trying to think what the world at the present juncture must look like to some being with eternal knowledge and sight. Is it possible that good will spring out of the fearful struggle? Is it a sign that human beings are trying, somewhat blindly, to adjust themselves to a step forward in their development? I have been reading some of that old Hindu book, “The Bhagavad-Gita” or Sacred Song” in which the Prince, Arjoon, horrified at the thought of involving his country in War, and the of the slaughter of the good men both on his own side and on that of the enemy, becomes the victim of indicision, and feels that anything is preferable to fighting. He asks advice of the God Krishna, who gives it him in full measure in 18 long lectures. Louise Rankin told me the other day that she found wisdom and comfort in this book. So far I have not found it convincing. If you happen to be a Hindu and believe in the Circle of Births, as fundamentally as you believe that you breathe, then there is great comfort in it, but if you feel, as probably most Westeners do, that what you want of life has to be packed into a single existance, then its not such a great comfort to be told “What matter if the body is killed? The soul is eternal, and will take on another form”. There is some interesting stuff about action and inaction, and when action is good and when it is bad. As I understand it Krishna says that action that is done because it has to be done and is accomplished for its own sake, is meritorious, but action that is undertaken only because it is to lead to some “event” (is the word used in my translation) then it is bad. Immediately it holds the seeds of disappointment, sorrow, jealousy and other disturbing passions. I don’t full understand this, though I get a glimmering of what is meant. Perhaps a universal grasping of this principal would be the only true foundation on which a socialistic state could be built. I’m far from having digested it yet, and shall have to put it into my mental cud and chew it for a while. Meantime it seems that work at extremely high pressure for all those who are in a position to do it, in whatever capicity, is the only answer to the German and Italian menace.

Thank you for taking Romey and her friends out. From her own account she “had a lovely time” even on the day when it was so wet that you could not go out. You descriptions of the singing in the Cloisters at Magdalen, and the dancing in the garden of the Master of Univ on perfect summer evenings, were like little snatches of music amongst all the war news and war anxiety. Aunt’s letters are a comfort too, in these days, and so oddly enough, was a very long one from Uncle, with lots about village and garden doings, and his attempts to make humus. What good people they are! I am wondering what the Neely family are doing. They must be rather unpleasantly exposed on top of their hill - - Auntie Hilda too.

Best love
Mother

From LJT to Romey

Chinsurah, June 12, 1940

My darling Romey,

On a morning when tidings of the War were particularly heavy, it was really a joy to get your letter telling of outings with Annette, and visits to the Gilbert and Sullivan Operas. It was nice of Miss Moller to take you. I have never been much of a Gilbert and Sullivan fan myself. I always go so hopefully, and find myself disappointed. I don’t believe I am really the temperament that likes fantasy enormously. I think I like things to be real, or to illuminate reality. I find reality too interesting to want to escape from it as many people say they want to do.
The last two evenings, to soothe my mind a little before going to bed, I have been reading a book by a Danish woman about life on a farm in Kenya. It is very simply written about very simple people, but it is real. It’s turning of one’s attention from one sort of reality to another, and not an escape from reality. Don’t thin I am advocating that all people should be like this. Fantasy has produced many lovely things, and gives infinite pleasure t many people. I was only trying to explain to myself and to you why I don’t get very thrilled over Gilbert and Sullivan’s operas, when so many people adore them.
Seeing the way the War is developing it may be unwise for you to spend your Summer holidays at Great Leighs. Essex is unfortunately one of the counties most likely to suffer from fairly constant raids. I’d certainly feel happier about you if you were tucked away somewhere more in the middle or West of England. I have written a whole lot of suggestions to Aunt. One hopes that perhaps it won’t be necessary to keep you away from Essex, but it is just as well to be prepared. I am afraid it will be a disappointment to you if you can’t go home, but you must comfort yourself with the thought that the War is bringing a great deal more than disappointment to many hundreds of thousands of people.
One idea I had, and which I put to you, though it is very likely quite impossible, and maybe you would not like it, is to find out whether the people with whom Rosemary Earle spends her holidays, living as I think they do in Oxford, would be willing to have you too. It may be quite a mad notion, but I thought it worth mentioning. Aunt may write to you about it too.
Another idea of mine is that you should stay with the Carey Morgans in Cornwall on the coast. I think very likely you will want to help the War effort in some way, such as fruit picking or haymaking or work of that sort, if it’s possible to arrange it, but it’s not possible for me to go into all that from here. Aunt is always so practical, and I am sure you and she between you will fix up something.
When balancing up your own feelings about wanting to go to Highways, it may help you not to grieve too much about it if you realize how much less our anxiety for you will be if you are in a less vulnerable place. Annette will have to make up her own mind what she is going to do. I imagine she will want to get into a useful job as soon as she can, and her whereabouts will be determined by the work she does.
About trying for your Silver Life-Saving Medal, I am quite willing to pat the fifteen shillings, if you want to try for it. I think the Life-Saving Society is an excellent thing and worthy of every support.
It must be awfully difficult for Annette doing her exams in the midst of all this tremendous tension about the war. If she does well in them, I think it will be a great tribute to her self-control, and calmness of mind.
The squirrels and mynahs are not coming very much to the feasts we spread for them lately. Mogul says it is because the little figs are ripe on the four trees in the garden, and that they like the fruit better than our toast and nuts. Dad thinks they are ungrateful creatures and talks of casting them off, but I know he will forgive them directly they appear again.

Best love, my darling
Mother


Family letter from LJT

Chinsura

June 13th 1940

My Dears,

To-day is the King’s Birthday!  The Germans are within twenty miles of Paris!  And so shock piles upon shock, and anxiety upon anxiety.  One feels ones soul crying aloud to Heaven for help, but how can one expect it when for so many years we failed to help ourselves?  Grief for all the suffering gnaws at one, however much one tries to keep ones faith in the final issue.  No Air Mails now, so it will be weeks before this reaches you all, and weeks before we get any personal news of you.  It has been wonderful so far to know so quickly what you were thinking and feeling.  I dont mean to grumble, for after all slowness in receiving letters is but a small inconvenience, but one feels it all the same.  The weather is not helping us to feel exactly braced up, for the Rains wont break, and for the last fortnight living in Bengal has been like living in a Turkish bath.  The damp and heat has been somewhat mitigated here by strong winds, but even they seem to wrap one in a film of warm dampness.  I dont know that I have ever felt a greater longing for cool dry air!

I’ve little idea what I am going to write to you about this week.  We have not done much, though we did go down to Calcutta on Sunday to have lunch with Harry and Winsome and go to a film.  I thought Herbert was getting hipped, by spending his whole time working, and scarcely seeing anyone outside his work, and that it would be good for him to have a little change.  It is, in a way, but unfortunately the drive to Calcutta and back always tires him.  The film we saw was not a very good one: it was Primrose Path with Ginger Rogers, but it made us laugh a little.  We had tea at the Saturday Club afterwards, and came home in time for dinner.

My driver, who is a very well educated and intelligent man, and a native of this place, constantly asks me for news about the war.  Last week he said that the man who runs the Petrol Pump and a repair shop here, and who is Secretary of the local bus  association, had been approached by several bus and taxi drivers saying that they would like to do something to help the War.  They made a collection, and took it to the big meeting that was held last Thursday.  Out of this arose an enquiry from the driver whether his youngest and still un-married sister might knit something for the Hospital Depot.  He also said it would be a great honour if I would go into his house to see his mother and sister.  I said I would, and took the matron of the Hospital along the other evening, prepared to show the sister the very simplest 2 plain 2 purl for knitting a scarf.  Guess my surprise when I found the girl was in the habit of knitting frocks for her nephews and nieces, pull-overs and all sorts of things in most elaborate stitches.  The house was a nice little “pukka” place close to the river bank about a mile from here, and it was all beautifully clean.  A table and two chairs were arranged for Miss Glassup and myself, and we were given tea, as good as I have drunk anywhere.  As a rule Indians make the most horrible tea, with water not boiling, milk smoked and often sugar dumped in before one can prevent it, so it was a most pleasant surprise to get such a good cup.  It appears that the father was a doctor, but not being at all well off or able to send his three sons to College, he apprenticed them into different trades.  My man did three years in motor work-shops in Calcutta, and has had one or two good jobs since as Driver to different people, always staying for years.  Another brother is in the workshops of a big paint factory across the river, and the third is a cinema ?(What do you call the man who projects the reel?) in Bombay.  I have been greatly impressed by this, for the curse of this country is the small clerk or even uneducated man, who pins his faith on giving his boy an education that will take him up to matriculation standard (very low indeed out here) and then hopes he will get a job as a clerk.  There are thousands and thousands of such incompetents in Bengal, and a shortage of honest carpenters and tin smiths and so on who know their work.  To go back to the driver’s Mother’s house:- the main room was a fair sized square apartment with two windows.  Part of it was taken up by a large wooden bed, quite 6 1/2 by 6 1/2 feet, covered by a clean blue and white striped cotton rug, with three pillows embroidered with red roses arranged on it.  There were two or three cupboards let into the wall, and on the walls were hung some pictures.  There was a biggish rather crude coloured print of Krishna with some attendant goddesses, and several groups of flowers done by the young sister with dyed fish scales.  This is rather a favourite art with Bengalis, and though in a sense, futile beyond words, the result is not always as frightful as you might think.  Also hanging on the wall was a zita, one of the long necked stringed instruments played in Bengal.  Round the edge of the room were the various small tin trunks belonging to different members of the family, each with a neat patchwork cover fitted on it.  I thought the whole place was most creditable, and was pleased with the drivers pride in it.  In fact, the outing was really quite interesting and enjoyable.  We drove on afterwards to the old Portuguese Church at Bandel, for there is rather a nice field walk along by the river there.  It was the evening of the day on which Italy had declared War and the poor Italian Fathers from the Church were just being packed into a bus with their boxes and bundles, to be taken away and interned.  I had a pleasant walk though, for there were a charming grove of Barbel (Gum-arabic) trees in full bloom, and the bloom is a charming little minosa-like thing, with a delicious scent.  Hopping about in the trees were a pair of long-tailed black and white bulbuls, which are rare in this part of the world.  I wish they would come and live in our Barbel trees on the river bank.

My radio set has again gone wrong.  It is alright on the medium waves on which I can get the Indian stations, but reception faded out almost entirely on the short waves.  I sent it up to the Dunlop Company the night before last, as the electrical expert up there said he would have a look at it and see if he could put it right.  He phoned yesterday to say the bands were out of adjustment, and though it is not a difficult job if you have the right apparatus, he could not do it here, as he had not the right things with which to do it.  I went to fetch it yesterday evening and stayed to listen to some very good Bach records on the gramophone.  They are good to listen to at this time, for in the two Preludes we listened to, there is such a strong note of hope and faith, that it really makes one feel better inside.  I am going to take the radio to Calcutta to-morrow.  I’ve a number of other jobs to do as well, so I dont much mind, and I can see a few of my friends.  The Himalayan Club has had rather a jolt, for Reggie Cooke, who has been our Chairman in the Eastern Section for the last two years, and who is a keen and able mountaineer, has been transferred to Lahore.  We are short of real mountaineers down here now, and I cant think of one who would make a good chairman.  However, there is really nothing going on at the moment.  Earlier in the year, military men were getting short leave in the country, and there were quite a lot of small expeditions planned, but that is all stopped, of course.  I am going to meet a couple of members of the committee in Calcutta to-morrow, and discuss with them whats best to do.  When I think of small every-day affairs like this, I get a sort of wave of feeling how futile it is to bother with them when the whole future of the civilized world is hanging in the balance, and yet I know that its right to keep on going, and not allow all ones small interests to disappear.

Our Bengal Ministry seems to be more and more futile, and less and less able to grasp the realities of Government.  Their constant interference with the routine work of the Districts, is making many of the Indian I.C.S. officers very disheartened.  I wonder whether these men have any idea what despicable figures they cut in the eyes of any one who knows how other countries are run, and yet some of them are pleasant enough fellows to meet.

This is a gloomy letter, I fear!  It is difficult to escape entirely from ones feelings.  Perhaps you can put just a little of it down to the weather!

Best love to you all

LJT


From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
June 17th 1940

My darling Annette,

The situation is so grave, that emotions are wraught up to a strange pitch. Never in all my life do I remember “feeling” so much and so vividly over several weeks of time. And now we are just beginning what for England will be the supreme trial. It is a comfort to know that you have been well blessed by both physical and mental strength, - - at least, so I believe, and so are at least as well equipped as most people, to stand the trials which surround you and lie ahead. In terrible situations, I suppose the older people always wish they could spare the young. I wish you could be out here and I, in England, doing whatever you might otherwise have been doing. In our case there is much you are capable of which I am not, of course, and anyhow its a fruitless wish. We each have to carry out our “dharma” or fate. It will be stale news to you that I have cabled for Rosemary to be sent out if its possible. I hope by the time that cable arrived, you had got my letter written on June 6th telling you to make up your own mind about coming out. It was too difficult to try to explain more in the cable, and I could only hope you would act as you thought best on my letter. (What an odd thought that by the time this letter reaches England, you might be on your way out here!)

In these dark days it is impossible not to look forward and conjecture over and over again, what may happen. I found that when I allowed the possibility that Germany might win, to enter my mind, I found that a black curtain descended, and I felt a sort of horror that it would be the end of everything. Since that possibility exists, however much we may strive and pray that it does not come to pass, its as well to fact it. I think I feel better since I have done so. It would, of course, mean the destruction of much, very much, that we hold dear, that we revere, and prize almost beyond life, but life itself would go on. However hard, we should build up a new existance. It is important that each one of us should take a hold upon his- or her-self, and realize that we we have an individuality, a “soul” if you like to call it so, that is capable of surviving enormous trials, and is even more tenacious than life itself, for I think it transcends life in some way. We simply must be of good courage. You, in England, who, probably before this letter reaches you, will be suffering the horrors of total air warfare, will need so much strength and self control. I am torn between a longing for you to come out here, and a feeling that I shall be proud of you if you choose to stay. So often I wonder whether this is all part of “The Great Plan”, and whether the Democracies had gone so far astray, that measures as drastic as Hitler and his regime had to be let loose to cure us! It seems strange that such an instrument should be chosen, but perhaps he, in his turn, will have to learn a severe lesson. If there is a power and an insight beyond the human, we can scarcely hope to understand its ways. Forgive me for moralizing like this! I’m really searching to find out my own thoughts, and I suppose I feel that you are a possible listener, and will not immediately write me off as being quite balmy!

It was strange how much strengthened and calmed I felt by meeting and talking to some of my friends on Friday. Idris, though inclined to be a bit of a pessimist, was somewhat heartening. I slept quite fairly well last night, but all the same I feel a bit tired now. I suppose anxiety and emotion are exhausting, and burn up energy.

Never have my thoughts been more constantly with you, and the other dear ones at home than they are now. May you have strength to endure the constant anxiety and the suffering, falling upon you at a time in your life, when you should be enjoying so many beautiful things.

Best love, my dear, from
Mother

Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah

Bengal

June 17th 1940

My Dears,

We are indeed passing through the Valley of the Shadow:- Last night we heard how far the German armies had penetrated southwards, and this morning of the new French Cabinet, and of the withdrawal of troops from the Maginot Line.  It seems only a matter of time now till we hear that France has given in.  One cannot see how she can do anything else.  What will you all then be suffering?  Indeed the Democracies must have been grieviously at fault, for punishment to fall so heavily upon us.  Shall we at the last be able to turn the tide and uphold the cause of freedom in spite of everything?  One must go on hoping and praying.

To-day I have cabled Grace to send Rosemary out here if possible.  I had written a fortnight ago asking her to do so if she thought it wise.  I feel now that the decision is a heavy one, and that it should be taken by us.  Whether she will be able to get a passage is another thing.  I hope I am not behaving in a panicy way.  It seems to me that everyone who can conveniently get away, provided they are not of immediate use to the community at War, are as well out of England.  When I wrote a fortnight ago, I told Annette she must make up her own mind.  I think she is of an age to do so.  I feel easier since sending the cable.  Herbert thinks it almost impossible that she will get a passage.  If that is so we must just bow our heads to fate, but I hope it will be otherwise.

Since, for various reasons, I probably shall not have time to write later in the week, I am starting this letter unusually early.  I am going in to Calcutta to-morrow to lunch with G.B.Gourlay who is up from Madras, and in the evening I am going to some show in Aid of War Funds, in company with Mrs Stanley.  On Wednesday I have Louise Ranken and Mrs van Arken, (wife of the Dutch Consul) and her daughter, coming to spend the day, and as I shall have spent the previous night in Calcutta, and shall only be back here just before they are expected, I shall have no time to myself that day.  Herbert has just told me that he is to go in to Calcutta on Thursday (my usual day for writing home letters) to see the Governor, so I expect I shall go with him.

Last Friday I went down to Calcutta, the excuse being that our Radio was out of order, but I also wanted to see and talk with some of my friends.  It happened that we had few people here last week, and I had been much alone with not enough work to do, only just sewing, - and my thoughts had been going round and round in circles.  I had, as a matter of fact, a lot of things to do in Calcutta, and was busy all morning and all afternoon.  I had lunch with Louise Ranken, and had arranged to meet two of the men on the Himalayan Club Committee at the Saturday Club at 6.15.  I arrived there about half an hour early, and was lucky enough to fall in with Mrs Stanley, just out of her office, and she stayed and had tea with me.  I found my own courage and calm greatly increased by contact with other people.  Mrs Stanley is hoping to get me some work to do.  The man who is Treasurer to the S.P.C.A. (of which Mrs Stanley is All-India Secretary) has got a lot of activity going about War Loans and Certificates.  It seems that he has got in touch with all sorts of places, and that his activities have increased snow-ball fashion.  She thinks he could probably give me a lot of work, distributing literature, and answering questions, that I could bring out here.  I hope he will be able to do so.

I dined with Idris Matthews on my way out here.  It seemed funny to think that perhaps it was the last time I shall ever be at “The Towers” where we spent two happy Cold Weathers, and where I have always felt so very much at home.  Idris is not at all pleased at having to leave his factory and go to do Secretariat work at Simla/Delhi.  He says he has just managed to endure not being in the War, because he has actually been turning out guns and shells at top speed, ever since it started.  Now he feels that doing entirely paper work will not satisfy him at all.  We shall both miss him very much.  He has been such an intimate friend for the past few years.  A good many of my best friends have left Calcutta during the past few years.  I suppose that is always the way when one is coming to the end of ones service.

From LJT to Romey

Chinsurah, June 21st, 1940

My darling Romey,

How incredible it seems that, if all goes to plan, you will be in Winnipeg before this letter reaches you! What an adventure!
It seemed almost like a miracle when Aunt’s cable arrived last night. I had been feeling very worried about you and longing to get you out of England. Winsome, too, was in her heart, longing to get John away, but controlled her own feelings, because there are so many things against having a boy of that age out here. There are many things against having you out too.---After all, India may not be so very safe for so very long if Japan or Russia or both should suddenly turn on us. (Let’s hope they won’t!)
Canada is a marvelous solution for both of you and will be a grand experience. Naturally, there are many ways in which I should simply have loved to have you with me--but they just don’t count compared to the advantages of this arrangement. There is a letter for Cousin Susie, with this. Money I think has been arranged alright. It’s a comfort to know that you are sensible and reliable, and won’t be a nuisance to the people you are with. It is lucky also, that you have a good deal of control over John.
It will be exciting to hear about your voyage and the journey to Winnipeg! Tell me all you can when you have time. I won’t write more now. We have cabled for Cousin Susie’s address and I’ll post another letter direct there, as soon as we hear it.
Bless you, my dear.---Don’t feel that you need to be too economical over money. If you get good chances of swimming and so on, don’t be afraid to spend a little on them. Later, when we know more, we shall be able to arrange some scale of allowance for you.

Best love, Mother

From LJT to Romey

Chinsurah, June 23rd, 1940

My darling Romey,

Letters from me to you must be wandering all over the place. I wonder which ones will reach you first.
Does this marvelous chance of going to Winnipeg seem to you rather like a dream? I keep on wondering whether it can really be true---but you will have the actual physical facts of the voyage and dealing with money and tickets and all sorts of things, to make it real--- at the end of it, arriving in a new home! Isn’t it wonderful of Cousin Susie to have thought of you and John? We scarcely know how to express our gratitude to her. I had had great fears and misgivings about trying to get you out here, and though, naturally, there is a pang of disappointment that you will not be with me, it’s a small and selfish thing, compared with the fact that you will be in a country that is safe, and that is healthy and where the general atmosphere will be excellent, both for you and for John.
I am doing nothing about money, till I hear what arrangements Aunt has made. I have no doubt she has made proper provision for the time being, and as soon as we hear more details, we can make more definite plans. When you have settled down and get the opportunity talk things over with Cousin Susie and try to get some idea about actual living expenses. On top of that, there will be oddments of all sorts and your clothes. I daresay you will need quite a lot, especially before the winter comes.
What a comfort it is that you are a sensible and reliable person and that we can feel with confidence that you will be about as little trouble to Cousin Susie as anyone well could be! How thrilling it will be to hear of your voyage and of what things are like in Winnipeg. You’ll tell me all you can, won’t you? Uncle Harry and Auntie Winsome will appreciate all you can tell about John too---for he’s scarcely of an age to write very informative letters yet.
I have written to Miss Moller and Miss Pierce, thanking them for the care and attention they have given you. Is this the photo you wanted? I think it must be.

Best love my darling, and love to John too.
Mother


Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
June 24th 1940

My Dears

It was a poor thing in the way of a letter that I sent to you last week. The news of the expected capitulation of France, cast personal matters completely into the shade. Its odd, and fortunate that the staggering blow of one week, becomes the accepted state of affairs the next, and however menacing and however full of anxiety the situation may be, the mind regains a certain poise, and the ability to go on with the daily tasks of life. It is important, I suppose, to keep the ordinary fabric of life in tact as well as is possible in so far as by so doing, the effort to win the war is in no way dulled.

In the midst of the anxiety both for Britain and for ones own dear ones, and the sorrow for the people of France, it was wonderful to get a cable from Grace saying that she had accepted an invitation from Cousin Susie Magill for Rosemary and “little John” to go to her in Winnipeg till the end of the War. Really it seemed like a miracle! I had been so doubtful about trying to get Rosemary out here, and was so sure that it would be terribly difficult to get passages, but the wisdom of sending those young things who can be catered for, to Canada is wise, without question, I think. It well be even more wonderful to hear that the children have arrived safely! That people as nice as both Susie and Helen Magill should be the ones to offer the children a home, is luck beyond all counting. I have been writing to try and express my gratitude to them, but the words seem dull when put on paper! Harry and Winsome are enormously relieved too, I am sure. They had made up their minds that it was better for John to face the risks in England, rather than to be brought out here (even if it could be arranged) where the life is so entirely unsuitable for small boys, but Canada is quite a different pair of shoes! It is fortunate that Herbert and Harry both have money in Canada, so that arranging the finances will be quite easy. This a real consideration, for one never knows in time of war when movements of money will be controlled.

It was a great pleasure seeing G.B. Gourlay at lunch last Tuesday. We talked little about mountains and much about the collapse of France. No matter how one tried, one always got back to that. I had quite a lot of shopping and things to do, although I had been in so recently, and a few Himalayan Club matters turned up to attend to as well. A couple whom I had helped to arrange a long tour in Sikkim, from which they have just returned, met me for tea at the Saturday Club, and I was interested to hear their experiences and see their photos. I was due at Mrs Stanley’s flat at 6.15, for we wanted to change and be back at the Saturday Club, for a “Grill” at 7.30. The Show in aid of War Charities, was advertised as a “supper dance” but Mrs Stanley thought it would be as well to have a little food before we went. Walter Jenkins and another man accompanied us, as well as Mrs Stanley’s very charming young Secretary and her partner. The show was arranged by some wealthy Jews in their house, a huge place, quite away from the ordinary residential quarter of Calcutta, so that we all thought our drivers must be making mistakes in taking us in that direction. We had none of us any idea that there were so many Jews in Calcutta! There were simply rows and rows of them, and just a sprinkling of people from our own world. Two large rooms on the Upper floor were devoted to dancing. Downstairs there were all sorts of games of chance. After supper, which none of our party attended as we had eaten so well at the Saturday Club, there was a Cabarat show. Several of the performers were Jews or rather Jewesses . . . and some of the turns were unintentionally very funny. One elderly Jewess with the typical big nose and beady black eyes, sang impassioned Spanish songs into the microphone, in a manner that made it hard for us to keep our faces. My friend from the Russian Ballet gave a charming dance, but the final thing was what impressed mo most with its mixture of pathos and comicality. There was a woman singing who has been on in some show in Calcutta. She had a loud and badly trained soprano voice, and as the grand finale of the show she sang “There’ll always be an England”, encourageing the audience to join in. There they were! Rows of Jews of every shade of coffee-colour, few of whom had ever seen Europe, I should imagine, all singing away for all they were worth “If England means as much to you
“As England does to me etc Etc” If one looked beyond the surface comicality of it, there was something that was at once pathetic and a matter of pride, in it. I believe that most of those people really felt what they were singing, though they do belong to an alien race, and only know England at second hand. There was there a real wish to help England in her peril and her need, I am sure.

We older members stayed till a little past midnight, when the various raffles were drawn for, and then we left the young ones to finish the party, and went off home. It seems odd to dance in times like these, but its a good way of making money. I have not heard what that party cleared, but Walter Jenkins, making an estimate of the people there, and adding on a bit for the side shows, thought it would be not less than Rs 2,000, and very probably more. Mrs Stanley and I found it all very interesting. It was stepping into a new world, which seemingly exists alongside us, and of which we see and know nothing.

As I am on the subject of Jews, I will tell you what the policeman, Julian Janvrin, who is in charge of interning the refugees who were not shut up at the beginning of the War reports. He says the wealthy and influential Jews in India are giving an awful lot of trouble by trying to get people exempted. As Julian says, it is quite impossible to tell from their papers which are possible Fifth Columnists, and the only thing is to shut them all up, trusting that those who are innocent will bear it with resignation in the general cause of downing Hitler, and realizing how impossible it is to sort them out from the guilty. Anina Brandt, by the way, is still at liberty in Darjeeling. I think she has been so carefully watched by the police for so many years, that she is probably the one person they are fairly sure of. All the same she will not be able to return to Calcutta. If she does, she will be shut up. She has been having a pretty stiff time, poor thing, as you may imagine, but she has just got enough pupils to keep her going in Darjeeling. She is going as a “P G” to some people at the end of this month, and they did not want to have her little Australian terrier, so I have got him here. He’s a nice little object, and has settled down quite happily. Poor Anina must be missing him a lot.

In a few days time our English doctor leaves us. They are getting very short of English I.M.S. officers. We must not complain, and just be thankful that we are within easy reach of Calcutta should anything be seriously wrong – The Assistant Surgeon will be in charge for a short while, and then a very senior man in the Indian Medical Dept. a Bengali, is coming here to act as Civil Surgeon. He has held some quite big posts, and Col Marray says he thinks he is an able man. We shall miss Col. Murray, with his fund of stories!

Louise Ranken is coming to-morrow to stay for a few days while her husband is in Delhi, so I thought I would get on with this letter to-day, and leave sewing till later in the week when I can talk to Louise at the same time. Maybe I’ll add a few lines to this before posting.

June 26th I’ve not really very much to add. Louise came yesterday, and its a great pleasure having her here. She brought her two dachshunds, and we took the dogs for a rather nice country walk after tea yesterday. We meant to do the same to-day, but all sorts of people want to come here. Mrs Bennett rang up to say might she come down about 4.30 to bring the War Work from their group. The Barons sent a note from Chandernagore to ask if they might come at 6 o’clock, and Mrs Chakravartey is coming at 7 o’clock to discuss the formation of a Ladies’ War Committee.

We are enjoying some nice cool weather, with fairly frequent showers, and a nice cool breeze, so that we have scarcely used punkahs the last few days.

Our thoughts are so constantly with you all in these anxious days. Bless you all and Best Love,
LJT


From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
June 25th 1940

My darling Annette,

Before I get on to any other subject, I want to talk to you about money. You know we were, and still are, willing to finance you for another year of study, should you wish it, but I feel almost certain that under present circumstances, you will want to get to work at something as soon as you are able, and I feel that if you are earning money, your allowance of £270 might be cut down. Like us, you will I am sure, feel that all the money we can spare should go into the War Funds. We have cut Richards’ allowance to £100 per annum as from August next. I have no idea what you will be doing or how much money you will need, during say the next six months, so I enclose a letter to Grindlays, into which you must fill the amounts which you think would be suitable for your allowance, and you can then forward the letter to Grindlays’. Should one of the people whose advice you seek, tell you to take a course at a crammers’ or a Secretarial School with expensive fees, so that you need as much money as usual, then it will be best not to send the letter for the time being. There is a slight complication, and that is because Harry and I do not know how much money Aunt will have been able to send with Romey and John to Canada. Also I heard over the Radio the other evening something about people who were thinking of sending their children to Canada independently of the Government scheme, must have an undertaking that the people to whom they are going in Canada must be responsible for their expenses, as it will not be possible to send money from England. Luckily both H.D and Dad have money in Canada, amounting to rather over £100 a year each, and it will be quite simple to have this paid direct to Cousin Susie Magill, but it is too late to stop the June remittances to England, and the next lot don’t fall due till Sept. We are therefore sending some money from here this week. I had recently sent home all the extra money we had been able to save to be put into War Loan, and so I have had to instruct the Bank here to send only £100 to England on August 1st, instead of £145. If Aunt has completely cleared out our account with Grindlays, to send the money to Canada for Romey, there might not be quite enough to pay the £33 6 8 to Dicky and to pay your full allowance of £90 (I think there would be, but I cant be absolutely sure) If you need the full amount, will you consult Grindlays about it? More money comes into our account during August and Sept, and the amount could be made up during those months. This question of how much money to send and to what place, has been a bit of a problem, and we may find that there’s more money in Canada than is needed, but I rather there were a good sum in had there with the Magills, than that in a few weeks time we were to find that exchange is controlled and there is difficulty in getting money out there. I hope I have made myself reasonably clear. Should you decide to come out here, I have empowered Aunt to overdraw our account with Grindlays to the extend of £330, but I do not want to over-draw unless it is absolutely necessary.

It was a marvellous news that Romey and John are going to Canada. I had been so doubtful about the wisdom of bringing Romey out here, and also felt it was unlikely that she would get a passage. For her to be with the Magills in Canada will be wonderful. I wish you could have been there too. My hope now is that you will get work possibly in some Government Dept. and will be living in some rather remote part of the country, and where there is adequate Air raid shelter accomodation. I wonder whether that hope will come true! I do very much wish that Highways was provided with an Air Raid shelter! There is a sort - - - - - June 26th - - - - - - - I had to break off yesterday to greet Louise Ranken, arriving to stay here, and what in the world I was going to say I have not the least idea!

Louise and I are looking forward to some discussions on the philosophy of the Bhagavad Gita, which she studied when she began learning Sanskrit last year with one of the Swamis at the Ramkrishna Mission. I look forward to her company till next Monday. Best love, my dear, Mother


Commissioner’s House
Chinsurah
Bengal
June 26th 1940

To
Messes Grindlay & Co
54 Parliament St. London.
S.W.1

Dear Sir,
From August next please reduce the amount paid into my daughter, Miss Annette M. Townend’s account, from the usual £90 to and continue to pay her allowance thrice yearly at this rate, until further notice.

Yours truly
L. Joan Townend