1942 October
Family letter from LJT No38
8 Theatre Rd. Calcutta.
October 4th 1942
My Dears,
The news I am going to give will be stale to many of you, for I shall be sending it to England and to Canada by airgraph and by cable. In my letter last week I said that Herbert was to see the doctor last Sunday afternoon. Col Denham White says that he has no disease, nor any sign of any, but that his whole system is so run down that nothing functions properly, and that is the reason he is so completely exhausted. The only cure is rest and rest in a good climate. He strongly recommends that he should leave India for good.
This agrees with what has been my own opinion for the last three and a half years, so it has not come as a shock or surprise to me. I am sorry for Herbert’s sake. There is so much he could have done had he been stronger. Naturally I regret having to resign my own post too. I should like to be have been able to carry on steadily till the end of the war. Idris is worried because it will be difficult to find anyone to replace me willing to work on an honorary basis. The women who are efficient and who do not want pay, are all, as far as I can see, deeply embedded in jobs of their own. I think they may have to create a paid post. It is sad also that our going upsets so many other people. Idris is going back to the Club in the middle of this month. Mr. Kelly is looking for a flat, and Coralie Taylor for rooms. I hope to get them all out by the fifteenth, so that the packing can start. The clear out I made in Chinsurah has done away with a lot of junk, and now I shall simply have a sale of everything except the few treasures which I hope may eventually be sent home. Its really not half so complicated as an ordinary going-home-on-leave occasion. Its queer to think of winding up everything, and saying goodbye to places we have known for nearly thirty years. I leave with far less regret now than I would have done five years ago.
Where to go is not as difficult to decide as might be supposed, as the choice is limited. Home is out of the question for the present, because of food and cold. Herbert is living mostly on chicken and fish and fruit on account of his digestive troubles, and I dont know how one would manage in England. Also owing to his run down condition, he feels the cold dreadfully. America and Canada are not available, because one cant take money there. South Africa seems the obvious place, and we plan to go to Cape Town. We have friends there, so can get help and advice. I profoundly hope that I shall be able to find some war work to do. There must be many opportunities to help with canteens and clubs for the troops passing through, I should think.
When not actually at work, matters to do with this flitting have kept my mind busy. So that I dont seem to have many other things to talk about. We have been very busy in office as Mr Hughes has been away on tour and that always throws more work on me.
One of the mountain climbing parties got back on Tuesday morning and came in to tell us how they had camped for three days on the edge of the snow, but had been prevented from climbing the mountain by bad weather. It was odd that on the first evening for ages when I have done anything in the way of inviting people in to drinks, several unexpected guests should have turned up, so that the party grew to more than twice its intended size, and took quite a bit of managing. I was afraid that Herbert would be completely collapsed by it, but he stood up to it rather well.
A nice couple from Bombay, who are members of the Himalayan Club, passed through Calcutta on their way to Sikhim, and spent nearly two hours here on another evening, going through their plans with me. I must try to hand the Club Secretaryship over to someone as soon as possible. I have been talking to a woman this morning who will do it well, and she seems hopeful of taking it on.
From all this you might think we have not a thought of the war, but that is far from the truth. It is with us so constantly that it seems scarcely more necessary to mention it than to mention that one is still breathing, eating and sleeping.
It looks as if the end of the Rains has come at last. We have had clear blue skies the last two days, and the air has suddenly become drier. Best love to you all LJT
Family letter from HPV
8 Theatre Road
Calcutta.
October 4th 1942
My dears
Apathy has been my portion for so long that even now I find it difficult to raise much interest in this matter of retirement. My output has been growing less and less; the time that I work has also diminished and the need for resting in the middle of the day has grown more and more; touring which is really essential for my job has been impossible. But in a sense I have been doing useful work even so; I have had practical experience of a kind that few of our present I.C.S. in Bengal have had; and I work harder than most of the other Commissioners. One thing that makes me fear to stay on is that if any crisis arises (as it well may, although our Bengalis are now as serenely confident that the Japs will not invade as previously they were terrified) I should not be able to stand up to the strain. It would be a serious matter to crock suddenly at such a time.
I cannot say that I look forward to scrapping all my interests and becoming a nonentity after having for so long been in a position to exercise influence on things out here, even though by a twist of fortune and of the Ministers much of the work that I did for Sir John Anderson has been turned to sinister uses. But it would not matter if there was any chance that I might still do some useful work somewhere.
The last few days have been more of a rush than usual; there has been a reduction in my office hours owing to Col. Denham White’s coming in to give me injections of glucose each morning and to his not coming in till after 11. To be an hour and a half late at the least in going to office and not to stay there longer than usual (because it is not easy for me to find at a restaurant anything that I may eat) means a rush. Also there was a meeting which occupied all Friday morning besides some hours on each day previously preparing for it, at which the steps to be taken if ever it was necessary to proclaim Martial Law were discussed; a complicated matter because it meant explaining to Brigadiers in a remarkably few words all sort of things about civil organization and seeking to find ways of reconciling them with Army ideas.
H.D came in one day. Naturally I showed my new alphabetical sentences to him for his admiration and edification also; and he commented that never had there been such a one for adding to and ornamenting scaffolding after the time had come when it might be taken down and thrown away. That might be regarded as a compliment to my attainments in the typing line; but it was not so meant. The greatest difficulty in typing to my mind is the space bar; how often do I fail to hit it hard enough to that words run together and confusion is produced in the minds of readers! H.D. was much impressed by my making an – by keeping my thumb on the space bar and depressing the shift key a fraction after hitting and before hitting the hyphen key. His method was to stop the machine and move the roller down a bit.
Mr. Renwick whose firm makes the iron sugar-cane crushing mills used all over Bengal came in the other night and mentioned that an English planter was growing the best sugar-cane in India on land bought by him as waste for rupees 7/8 an acre in Murshidabad district. Machine ploughing, manuring and irrigation by pumping at what should be a prohibitive cost according to Bengali ideas; with results interesting to me because the people could have similar much cheaper if they had the courage to accept the taxation necessary to pay for the irrigation and drainage works. If a European business man finds it pay to irrigate at Rs. 15 an acre, why do our Bengalis boggle at getting more for Rs 5? or rather at paying Rs 5 for a lot more?
Shortage of rain was followed by excess in several of my districts; and now there has been a sudden change, the skies are clear and the air comparatively dry! This ought to put renewed energy into me; I shall need it to clear up before I go. It will be a grief to throw away many papers which I have kept for years in the hope that some day I should get round to them.
The tip of turning the typewriter ribbon upside down, wrong side up, works, to some extent. This is the ribbon which had become so dim that I had to go over everything twice for it to be visible; and it is not so bad now that I have turned it.
Much love
Herbert.
From LJT to Romey
8 Theatre Rd, Calcutta
Oct 8th, 1942
My darling Romey,
Wonderful to relate, I find myself with, for the moment, nothing to do, so I seize the opportunity of writing to you. Thank you very much for letters No 65 and 66 (sea mail), dated 11.6.42 and 28.6.42. The whole series of letters is almost linked up now and it is very interesting to hear of all your doings. When we read how you stayed awake most of the night in the train going across the Rockies, Dad laughed and said it was just like me! I am sure I should have done the same. It was awfully kind of the Averills to fix up accommodation for you and to insist on being your host and hostess for a week. What luck that they found a place for you that you liked so much. It will be a wonderful holiday to remember. I have lovely postcards of Lake Louise sent to me last year by Edward Groth. It must be wonderful country. I am looking forward to getting your more detailed account of it. I am so hoping that we shan’t miss many of your letters by going off to Africa. I have a D.L.T. cable ready written, but am waiting to send it off till Dad has been through the formality of going before a Medical board on Saturday. The conclusion is foregone, I think, but Dad thinks it better not to send any cables beforehand.
You will, I am sure, have mentioned where Cousin Susie’s son is in South Africa. It would be nice if it happened to be in Cape Town.
I feel rather dazed by all this happening so suddenly, though it isn’t unexpected, since for years past I have known that he might have to go at any time. I think he will soon be a different person when he gets away from his heavy work and into a good dry climate.
11.10.42 We have just had a sweet letter of sympathy from Cousin Susie. Will you give her the message at the end of the family letter? Best love, darling,
Mother
From LJT to Annette
8 Theatre Rd
Calcutta
Oct 8th 1942
My darling Annette
Actually I am writing this in office – Things seem slack to-day, at least my side of the work does, so I am useing my spare time for a few letters. I know I’ll be busy on Sunday morning – Its hair-washing day, for one thing; and the dhirzie is coming to take some frocks for small alterations – A scarlet silk shantung frock I have had for some years, has got the surface of the silk where I sit down, ruffed up – so I am having it turned and at the same time let out on the seams (I regret the necessity! I hope I’ll take off that extra inch round the hips when I get the chance to climb up Table Mountain a few times!)
You can imagine that I am thinking extra much about Richard to-day – It is, or would have been his 25th birthday – I last saw him on the day after his 21st birthday – in the street outside the Taj Mahal Restaurent, where we had had a curry supper. Do you remember?
Something reminded Dad of an absurd conversation he had with Richard when he was a tiny boy in Yorkshire. Richard was heard stumping down-stairs very early – Dad to him “You are down very early this morning”. R. “You see, the train goes very early – (Pause for thought.) Why does the train go so early?” Dad “Because it wants to get to London before tea.” – Another pause for thought. R. “Anyhow it does not go so early as it comes”. Even in those early days Richard was always observing the how and the wherefore of things.
At the moment I am suffering a little from divided interests – Work is a little slack on my side of the office and thoughts about our plans for leaving India for good, insist on intruding in office hours. Oddly enough the Himalayan Club does not seem to clash with the office work – Possibly it is because the HC work has all been more or less routine or answering questions to which I know the answers so well that I dont need to consider them much. In a sort of way I feel rather attracted by the idea of getting rid of so many of our belongings. I shall keep comparatively little to send home.
It may seem rather piggish, but I shall also be rather glad not to have p.gs. always with us. We have begun to find Coralie Taylor a bit trying. She is always terriffically hearty – and is a great one for making unfounded statements. On evenings when Dad and I are in alone we feel a sort of glow of comfort and peace! As I have often said before, we dont feel this a bit about Idris. He never seems a bother or in the way.
11/10/42 I left this to be finished later, in case anything special cropped up to say – As it has not – I send my love as always
Mother
Family letter from LJT No 39
8 Theatre Rd. Calcutta
October 9th 1942
My Dears,
It is most unusual for me to begin my letter on a Friday evening, but strange to say, I find myself with some spare time before dinner, and guessing that there may be a lot of interruptions on Sunday morning, its as well to be a little previous.
Herbert has to go through the formality of appearing before a medical board to-morrow, before the local government can give him long leave prior to retirement. The actual permission to retire, comes from the Secretary of State for India, and may be a long time arriving, but that will not interfere with our going off to Africa early next month. Our address will be c/o the Chartered Bank of South Africa, Cape Town.
Its strange to think that in a months time we may already be on our way there. Heaps of offers of introductions to people are pouring in so we should not lack friends when we get there. We are told that people are most friendly and hospitable, and though the Boers are anti-British as far as national feeling goes, they are most friendly to individuals.
A friend of mine, Mrs Forsyth, flew to S. Africa with her children about nine months ago. Her husband has just been to spend a short leave with them, and returned about a fortnight ago. He kindly came in an evening or two ago, and gave me such a lot of useful and interesting information. One thing he said which comforted me, and that is that he is sure I will be able to get a job. His wife is in Cape Town now, and has been in touch with all sorts of people. Even if she is not there when we arrive, she will be able to put me in touch with useful people.
I took a day off from office on Wednesday, to give me time to deal with a variety of things which are always the preliminaries to moving from one country to another. I talked to all sorts of people on the telephone, and gathered a good deal of information, as well as having time to think out plans. On the whole things seem promising. The shipping people say that there will be no difficulty about passages if we can go over to Bombay and wait there ready to board a boat at 24 hours notice. The Civil Transport Officer says that they will take over our car, a thing which saves a lot of bother. I shall have all the furniture and household belongings put up to auction, keeping only the very special things that we should like sent to England eventually. This will save me all the bother of making lists, valuing furniture and so on. In fact compared with the arrangements I had to make when we left Chinsurah, not knowing whether we should ever return to India, this is childsplay. Harry and Winsome will kindly put us up for the last few days of this month, and until we want to leave for Bombay. Its a great help to have eliminated as much as I did before we went to Australia, and also to have got the things that it seems useful to have on a sea voyage in these days. I have asked permission to resign from the end of the month, but as we are just at the beginning of the Puja holidays, I shall stay away for a few days next week, and then ask for the fortnights leave which all the other officers had earlier in the year, and which I then said I did not want, but might like later.
It is rather an interesting fact that my job seems to be drying up to some extent just as I have to leave it. I deal with the actual recruiting side of the work, interviewing candidates, scanning applications and answering them; explaining to candidates about the working of the Act xXVIII of 1940 under which men of non-Asiatic domicile are called up for national service, and the Ordinance under which “technical personnel” (an expression which is in very common use in our office!) are dealt with. I have frequent telephone conversations with the recruiting officers in Fort William, and with the National Labour Service Tribunal, and all sorts of other people who want to find out about jobs. We foresaw long ago that the stream of candidates would dry up, and the big training scheme was brought into being to supply the continuing demand for engineers and chemists. Mr Hughes is responsible for this side of the work under Idris, and it has grown into a very big thing, and is still expanding. I am glad to feel that I have been able to carry on with this job as long as the pressure was high, and that I shant be leaving Idris so badly off by going away now.
11.10.42. Herbert’s Medical board yesterday agreed that he should go. Now we can send off telegrams, and make it officially public that we are going.
It will seem most odd not going to office to-morrow. I have liked living to a routine all these months.
The second mountain-climbing party got back this week, two R.A.F. men. They were lucky, and got their peak, Lama Anden, 19,300 ft, just happening to strike a fine day for their arrival at the base camp. They were only away from Calcutta for two weeks, which must constitute almost a record for speed. W/Cdr Smyth came in to have dinner and tell us about it all one evening, and he gave a very nice party to celebrate the event last night. He came in here first to look at photos of mountains in another part of Sikkim, dreaming of getting three weeks leave next Spring and of doing a more ambitious climb. I hope he gets the chance.
Luckily I have found someone to take over the Hony Secretaryship of the Eastern Section of the Himalayan Club. She says she feels diffident for she knows comparatively little. Its true in a sense, but she is intelligent, adores the mountains, and is a good worker, so I think she will do well. After all, it is only by doing things that one can get experience. I have just been sending out the notices for the last committee meeting that I shall be able to attend. I am sad to say goodbye to my work for the Club. It has been interesting, and has brought me many excellent friends.
Winsome is back from Simla, and she and Harry are coming in to see us before lunch this morning. Report over the telephone say that she and Charlotte are flourishing. Its lovely to know that we can go to them as soon as we want to move out of this house. I feel rather a sense of elation at getting rid of most of our belongings. Its so nice not to have to make lists and pack such a mass of stuff.
The Rains seem to have finished, and we have had some rather hot days but it will soon be getting cooler now. The wind is from the North this morning, which, in Bengal, is the Cold Weather quarter.
I think I hear Harry and Winsome, so I’ll say goodbye for this week
Best love to you all
LJT
Family letter from HPV
Calcutta,
October 11th 1942.
My Dear Annette (name handwritten)
The die is cast. Yesterday I went before a Medical Board and was declared unfit for service. It was a foregone conclusion after the certificate given by Col. Denham White; he is too well known as a careful doctor to have his word doubted. But even so I was slightly surprised by the brevity of the proceedings; all that happened was that Col Murray having taken his seat said “Well, there are these damned papers to be signed; where are they?“ and then he signed them.
People seem to think that I am pleased by the idea of going; but although it is a long time since I have taken a pleasure in my work and even longer since I have had any pleasure in anything else, I am sorry to be unable to go on. Also for the moment the decision has made it more difficult than before to carry on with the work, because there is the feeling that my successor will not agree with anything that I do.
Those fakirs in Egypt who eat scorpions and push pins through their cheeks and do not bleed in consequence have nothing on me these days. Denham White has been giving injections of adrenaline by the method of holding the syringe perpendicularly over my seat and knocking it in with a sharp blow on top of the plunger. The occasion for pride is that there was no blood. Joan warned me after the first injection on no account to have one before I went to see the medical Board; so presumably I showed more energy after it. But the effect of the injections whether liver, glucose or adrenaline is not lasting.
The Puja holidays are here. Some months ago Government ordered that no account should be kept of holidays and that work should go on as usual. They repeated this lately with special reference to the Puja holidays; and then they declared that because Friday was a holiday for some miscellaneous festival (the Hindu equivalent of All Souls’ Day) and the Puja holidays started from Sunday then Saturday should be a holiday too. One voice is from the Home Department, officials thinking of war work; the other is of the Ministers thinking of their own convenience and the pleasure of their supporters.
The holiday makers who go off to the hills will not have too pleasant a journey. It is impossible to put on duplicate trains or extra trains; and so there is no reservation of berths and no likelihood of being able to sleep. On the other hand they ought to have good weather. It is fine and dryish, and down here incidentally, extremely hot.
Last night I went up on the roof before going to bed and looked at the stars. A fine glitter. Not too many stars showing to make identification difficult. But for star-gazing or rather constellation-gazing there should be two; for some reason comment makes it easier to remember what constellation is what. One thing very noticeable from the roof is the failure of many people to screen their lights: there is no actual blackout her, but there is supposed to be obscuration. From the roof one can see high-power bulbs shining on top verandahs without any shade at all.
Harry telephoned last night that one of the dogs would like to speak to me; and then said “Winsome will speak instead”. She arrived back from Simla last evening at 6 or thereabouts; and sounds very cheerful and well. They are coming in this morning.
How badly this typing goes this morning! a matter of shame to me . . . after all the fuss I make about it. There is no better indication of the degree of energy on any particular day than the number of mistakes in the typing. A pretty poor level today.
Joan has been washing her hair. A thing which perhaps is not frequent under war-conditions in England. She looks exactly like her own photo at the age of nine. One of the cats has climbed up into a tree and is asleep in the least comfortable position ever assumed by any cat anywhere. Not far away, sleeping on the roof of a godown, is that public enemy, the black tom, which the servants are supposed to pursue at sight. Being benevolent, I have not informed against him. Several times lately I have met a terrier which by his shape, colouring and perkiness I judge to be a descendant of Swanker’s; we lived in these parts and Swanker was very busy whenever there was anything to be busy about that promised to result in descendants. Though it is long ago. 25 years.
Much love
Dad
Family letter from LJT No 40
8 Theatre Rd. Calcutta
Oct 18th 1942
My Dears
The paper was just in the typewriter, when Winsome rang up to ask whether it would be convenient if she came round in about twenty minutes to look at the stores which she said she would like to take over. Abandoning all else, I hurried down to get these taken from the cupboard and boxes, and set out on a big table. It looked a lot when all put to-gether, both reserve and current stocks, plus a lot of tinned fruit which I have been accumulating during the last few months, because Idris and Herbert are so limited in the choice of what they can eat. Charlotte’s eyes gleamed at the sight of half a dozen tins of Heinz baked beans. Winsome well knowing Charlottes weakness, said to me with a wink, “I dont think we shall need the Baked beans” and turning to Charlotte as if by an afterthought, she added “Shall we Charla”. Charlotte’s answer was to embrace Winsome tightly round her middle, giving her an entreating look. I am glad to say this action seemed effective, and the beans were added to the list.
Charlotte is a charming child, very quiet, orderly, and calm, with plenty of common sense, and a good sense of humour. So far she has not got at all spoilt by being out in India. Nurse is most sensible with her. The only thing I regret for her, is that life does not hold more independence for her, more chance of fending for herself. I dont think it will matter greatly, for I think she has an independence of mind in herself that will survive the fact that she has a capable woman whose whole time job it is to look after her.
Last week I believe I said that the Rains were apparently over. It looked like it, but we were deceived. When we went out to dinner with Harry and Winsome on Thursday, it was raining steadily, a nice soft gentle sort of rain. Herbert and I remarked on the benefit that rain of that sort was likely to do to the maturing crops. It went on the next day, increasing in violence as the hours passed, with an ever-rising wind, which shifted from North round to East and gradually got into the South. The split bamboo blinds were dropped along our big South verandah, which is about 25 feet wide and thirty-five feet long, walled in at both ends, and only open on the one side. It is furnished just like a room, and is the place where we sit more than anywhere else. I spent about a couple of hours during the night wrestling with these screens, first trying to tie them down more firmly, and finally giving it up, dragging or carrying the furniture into the rooms, and pulling them up. Only then was there some semblance of peace, and with the furniture removed it did not matter that wind and rain swept across the marble floored verandah. All the time I was doing this, I was thinking of the much more serious damage being done to crops, to the thousands of little mud houses with tin or thatch roofs which carry away so easily in a high wind, and possibly to aircraft that might be parked in the open.
The dinner with Harry and Winsome was a kindly act to us, for the man we met there, a member of Harry’s firm, is a South African from Cape Town. Not only that, but he is a throughly practical person, who evidently likes giving information. He came armed with maps, and had sent me the 1940 Year Book of the U. of S.A. a few days before. What he told me was of immense help, and has simplified my plans, and set my mind at rest on several points. He so strongly advises us to get off the boat at Durban, and go on to Cape Town by rail, that we have decided to do it. He says that the blackout is most rigid, and most of the ships get frightfully hot, down in the cabins at night, so that the sooner one can abandon sea travel, the better. It seems worth a little extra expense, and will have the advantage of giving us a chance to see more of the African country-side. The train journey takes three days.
The other evening I dined out with a charming young man who came from China a few months ago, and is now working in the china Relations Office here. He has been to this house a few times, and kindly invited me to go and dine with him, to meet some of his Chinese friends. It was a delightful party. He is living in a flat with the American consul, and probably the most interesting man in the police in Bengal. Add to these two delightful and most cultivated Chinese couples, and you can guess what a pleasant evening we had!
Our lodgers have all left us. Idris went on Tuesday, and Coralie Taylor and Mr Kelly on Thursday. Its convenient to have the house empty, so that sorting and packing can go on in the vacant rooms. It is also more restful to be alone. Herbert has been more exhausted than ever, and is carrying on his work with difficulty. I rather wish we could have asked for him to chuck it a little earlier, but he wanted to give Government time to make arrangements for his relief. He has to carry on for just another fortnight. His extra “poorness” the last few days may have been partly due to the climatic depression which caused this big storm. He is always sensitive to weather conditions.
As this past week has been Bengal’s big holiday week, the Kali and Lakshmi Pujas, work has been slack, though the Government offices have stayed open. I have not been to office, which has been an enormous help to me, as I had a great many things to arrange. At intervals I have telephoned to Idris or to my typist to know how they are getting on, and they have assured me that they were managing alright without me. Possibly a successor may be found next week, I really mean this week, and I shall go along to initiate her into the work I did.
It has been gratifying to get letters, both from our Director General Sir Guthrie Russel, and from the Deputy Director General, Mr Butler, saying that they regret my resignation, and thanking me for the work I have done. I value the letters from a practical point of view too, for they may help me to get something to do in Africa.
The auctioneer’s man was along here a few days ago, and he tells us that we ought to get pretty good prices for our stuff, which is good hearing. I am keeping very little, as I dont think it is worth storing and then having to pay freight to England, except on things which are very precious. It is such a comfort not to have to make lists, and to pack up all sorts of things. We have decided not to be slaves to tradition in the shape of Herbert’s tiger skins, and we are selling them. Its impossible to know what to do with them in a small house in England, and I shall be glad to be rid of them. They look handsome in a huge room, like our drawing room here. We are having the sale on Monday, Nov 2nd and the things will be on view on Sunday the 1st. Hebert will give over charge on the 3rd.
The responsibility of the Himalayan Club is already almost off my shoulders. Mrs Case came and took over all the files, and got a lot of instruction from me on Thursday evening. The Committee meeting at which she will formally take over is next Tuesday. I am glad to be free of the work at the moment, but at the same time sorry to say good-bye to it. Its always been the nicest possible concern to work for, and since I took over in 1933 or 34, there has never been the least unpleasantness or anything but the most wholesome disagreements. I look back with pleasurable amusement at the long fight I had with G.B. Gourlay over the best sites for the Himalayan Club Huts. Its nice to have won my way, and to have found time prove I was right!
For the first time since I came back to India, I have had to pay a little attention to clothes. I am sorry to say some of the attention is in the matter of letting out. I have put on about an inch round the hips and the waist, and there has had to be a little easing of seams and of hooks! I’ve had an old dhirzie for the past week, turning, mending, re-collaring and generally furbishing up my somewhat shabby wardrobe. Yesterday morning I went to the shops and have actually ordered myself a very simple evening skirt and little jacket in dark red crepe, for my evening frocks are mostly past praying for, and Mr. Clarabutt (the incredible name of Harry’s S.A. friend) says people do dress for dinner, both in private houses and in the hotels in Cape Town. I felt it all wrong to be ordering any but the most strictly utilitarian clothes.
Herbert’s requirements were much more mundane and consisted of a pair of dark blue flannel shorts and two sports shirts in a blue, black and white check. Barring one or two flying visits to the food shops in the market, and to the book shop that was next door to our office before we moved to Hark Street this was the first time I had been in the shops for months, and it seemed queer.
This letter has become far longer than I intended, and there is no time to write individual ones.
We have been thinking specially of Grace on this her birthday, and shall also be thinking of Annette on the 22nd. Perhaps we shall think of ourselves when young and innocent, when the thirty-first anniversary of our engagement comes round on the 19th!
Best love to all of you, dear ones
LJT
Family letter from HPV
Calcutta
October 18th 1942
My Dear Annette (name handwritten)
That during these last few days complete exhaustion has overcome me is perhaps to be ascribed to the fact that there remains to be done only one file but that is a stinker; it may alternatively be due to the injections of adrenalin which the doctor has been giving to me. The first made me quite leaping-and-dancing fit for an hour or two and seemed not to have much effect afterwards, but the remainder have been knockouts.
We have been having gloomy weather of late; a violent storm made one night hideous, since all the shutters and windows in the house are more or less loose and they not only rattled but banged while bolted. Some of them blew open. Many branches came down on the roof of the outhouses and the impression each time was that some catastrophe had occurred. Early in the night I got up twice and went round securing windows and looking for trouble; when I got off at last to sleep Joan seems to have taken ove, for she says she spent nearly two hours securing the screens which protect the south verandah and moving furniture inside the drawing room off that verandah.
Today the sun is shining. Now with the passing of the depression I may recover some energy. But for the past two days I have been compelled to retire to my couch both in the morning and afternoon. It is a nuisance to let Joan down by being a wreck whenever there is packing to be done; but it is only because I am a wreck that the packing is necessary, and so I should not be grousing.
On Thursday we went out to dinner at Harry’s; to meet one of his partners who belongs to South Africa and gave useful information which Joan duly noted down. My contribution to the inquiry was slight; my intellect was in abeyance. If Joan was not here to do all this, I suppose that I should manage somehow, postponing all decision as to my movements until after I had handed over charge and had nothing on my mind.
Winsome and Charlotte have just come in to see the stores that Joan had laid in. They seem very plentiful but Government had published a note that all who could should amass a week’s provisions in case there was a breakdown during or after a period of air-raids and these were stores for seven persons. Winsome thinks of taking over the lot. They are laid out on a big table in the spare room (all our “lodgers” have left us) and look like a shop. Vast numbers of cockroaches were dislodged from cover and several rats when all these things were cleared out of cupboards and boxes; horrid. The agreeable cats when called up and adjured to take an interest in the rats paid no heed at all and marched off.
It is quite a relief to have that big dog of Coralie’s out of the house. A mongrel bitch and not too intelligent; our lessons in manners had little effect on her and she loved getting under our feet, which is a nuisance when one is seedy.
I am faced with the question whether to abandon all my stuff about rainfall and paddy or to take it with me in the hope of having the energy to write a handbook about the working of my Act. Yesterday an Irrigation Department engineer came in to ask my opinion about a book on Bengal rivers; and we spent two hours on this. The result was to exhaust me and also to make me wonder what is the good of trying to get anything done in this futile country; the Ministers will never have the guts to do anything real. The only bright spot for those who like Bengal is that the Bengalis seem to be satisfied if they have something to grouse about and are allowed to grouse; so they will probably carry on happily through all the inefficiency which is obviously going to result from all this fine talk by the politicians.
More out of boredom than enthusiasm I have written letters to several of our benefactors in Australia and New Zealand; and have been rather dismayed by the facility with which I still make typing mistakes. It has been quite interesting though to see what Joan had written at the time about our doings in those countries; she kept copies and I referred to them first to find out a man’s name and then out of general curiosity.
The doctor has just been in and decided not to give me any more injections on the ground that they have not been a success. Now there is nothing to be done but to wait for release from work and to leave the cure to laziness.
Much love
Dad
From LJT to Annette No 41
8 Theatre Rd. Calcutta.
Oct 24th 1942.
My darling Annette,
Thank you for your letter written from the hospital just before you were to have the operation on your eye. I do hope it has been successful and not too bothersome.
I am most awfully sorry that you happened to be there alone when you got the news that Richard was missing. It must have given you much too much time to think about him. I had pictured you busy with work and thankful for it, just as I was.
To begin with I had no strong feeling about his being still alive or not, and reason told me that the chances were slender, but oddly enough the last few days I have had a growing feeling that he is alive. It is almost as if someone were trying to tell me so. Got grant it may be so, but I fancy that for one premonition that turns out to be correct, and gets much talked about, there are dozens that are wrong and are tactfully not mentioned. Almost coinciding with this feeling is the arrival of Aunt Arla’s book, which I am reading with interest. She has talked to me a little about spiritualism, or whatever you like to call it from time to time. I have always been interested to some extent, but it is only by fits and starts that the interest has become active, and then on someone else’s behalf.
Years ago in Chelsea when Dr Dunn had recently died, Poppy asked me if I would try the glass and the letters with her, as she had a sort of idea that she might get in touch with him. All through that Winter we used to sit once a week or so. For some time we seemed to get messages from Poppy’s father who had died some years before. He said that Theo was “resting”, but would come later. Then Theo (Dr Dunn) came himself. They both gave Poppy excellent advice. We believed that we were really in touch with them. Later we began to wonder whether we were not just tapping our own sub-conscious minds. We certainly did not push the glass consciously. Perhaps the oddest thing was one night when I was sitting along in the tope room as Chelsea about to write to Dad, with a blank sheet of paper before me and a pen in my hand. I suddenly began thinking of Theo, and the pen began writing messages in a curious round childish unformed hand to Poppy. There was half page full, telling to persevere with her lecture work, not to grieve for him, not to think too much about herself. I was much impressed at the time, and sent the notes to Poppy, who was also impressed, but again there was nothing there that might not have come straight out of my own mind.
Some half dozen times in my life I have been told that I am mediumistic. Certainly tables turn for me, a glass skates about a polished table, and some times a pencil writes. Dad dislikes anything of this sort so much, that I have not done anything in that line for ages, but I feel rather like having a few attempts at it. Dont mention it, for I dont want to upset Dad.
We thought of you many times on your birthday, and wondered whether you were able to celebrate it in any way. Celebrations are not easy in war time, are they?
And so there is to be a “Pringle Jr”. I think Peg will be most amusing with an infant of her own. I must see whether I can get hold of any nice little woolies out here to send for it. There is only just about enough time now. Parcels take such an age.
Dad and I went over the Abbey at St Alban’s once. My memory is of a building in many styles, long for its height. Actually I am very fond of Norman work. I adore Durham, and darling little Hereford. It’s the Romanesque that does not appeal to me so much. There is something a little self conscious about it, as if it were drawing attention to itself rather than pointing the way to heaven.
The 9.30 p.m. news will be on in a few minutes, and I want to hear how things are going, not only in Russia, but also in the new offensive in Egypt, so I’ll say good-night,
Best love, my dear
From
Mother
Family letter from LJT No 41
8 Theatre Rd. Calcutta
Oct 24th 1942
My Dears,
The long gap in letters from Home was broken yesterday and the day before both by sea and air-mail letters, but one or perhaps two mails are missing, for there is a gap of a whole month in letters from Annette and from Grace. Anne’s gap is from the 6th July to the No 16, to the 7th Aug (No 18) which was written from Hospital the day before she was to have the operation on her eye. Grace’s later letter was written after she had sent the cable and the air-graph about Richard. A charming letter from Richard, written in May and sent by sea mail has just arrived too. He was describing the beauties of the journey to Macrihanish. There were letters also from May and from Bous, for which all thanks. Its not likely I will be able to answer till after we leave this house, possibly not till after we leave Calcutta, for in spite of my boasting that it was going to be so much easier leaving a house where almost everything is going into a Sale, I still find that I have a great many things to think out and arrange.
We have done quite a bit of sorting and packing this week. Mogul always amuses me when there is packing going on. He quickly removes his white coat and kummerbund and takes off his pugeree, and gets down to the job. What a number of times he has packed up my belongings.
I am bringing home the yellow cloisonné jars, and a few other things and in their place in the rooms, I have raked out flower vases and oddments that have been put away, to keep the place from looking bare, and there they all are to go into the sale. Everyone tells me we are selling at a good time, so it will be interesting to see how the things go. We are making a present of the one really good piece of furniture we have, an old round Dutch dining table of rosewood, to Harry and Winsome, as some small token of thanks for all they do for us. What an untold blessing to be able to drive to their delightful house when we have to turn out of this, and stay in that restful atmosphere for a quiet week after finishing our packing.
At the Himalayan Club Committee meeting on Tuesday when I made over charge, the chairman said nice things to me, and proposed that I should be presented with one of the “Tiger Badges” as a little memento of the Club and the Porters. The Club has been almost like my own child, and I feel sad at leaving it, but very glad that I have passed the work on to a woman as keen and as capable as Mrs Case.
Things have been slack in office over the holiday season, which only ends to-day. My typist, Miss Jacob, calls in here every other morning or so on her way to office, and gives me all the news. It really looks as if the necessity for me to go could not have come at a more convenient moment. It is most satisfactory. If we had been working at the high pressure that we had been doing up to a few weeks ago, I should not have felt it possible to stay away as I have done this week.
Herbert is very drooping, and finds it hard to get through work without constant rests. I am sorry he has to carry on for another week. I hope we dont have to wait long for a boat in Bombay.
As a little diversion from lists and boxes, I went to the cinema last night to see “Let the People Sing”, which I found rather disappointing. It has the same fault as phillip Gibbs book “The Amazing Summer”. The author has decided to show a series of typical people from various environments, reacting to a certain set of circumstances. The characters have not come alive in either case. I really enjoyed the first half of the programme more, when we had a wonderful series of pictures of the R.A.F. bombing Bremen and then of one of the hedge-hopping daylight bomber raids on a factory in France. The latter pictures made one feel almost as if one were in the plane. It reminded me of one time when Idris and I flew back from Jalpaiguri. There was a stiff breeze against us at 1,000 ft so we dropped and dropped till we were flying at about 100 ft, skimming the tree tops, and I fear, alarming the ladies who were having their baths in the village ponds, and the cows who had settled down to the morning’s grazing, and who pulled up their tethering pegs, and galloped over the landscape. I also enjoyed the excellent pictures of Joe Louis’ fight with Abe Simon. I can remember seeing the film of Joe Louis’ first big fight before he became heavy-weight champion, and I like the way he fights now, just as much as I did then. I like watching boxing on the screen, when it is not too long.
Best love to you all
LJT
From LJT to Romey
8 Theatre Rd, Calcutta
October 25, 1942
My darling Romey,
Luckily the RAF man, just back from a trip in the mountains, with whom I was to have had dinner last night, was unexpectedly on duty, so I did the family letter and one to Annette last evening. This morning I have not had a moment. People mean to be kind by coming in to see one, but oh dear! It is a nuisance. Such visits have driven me almost demented this morning, so that at the moment I feel inclined to scream. If only I had been left to myself I could have gone steadily about my jobs, without feeling worried.
We have had no letters from Canada for quite a time, but a copy of “Beaver” came yesterday, with entrancing pictures of Puffins in it. I have no more time than to glance at it, for I am very busy, moreover I think it will be nice to save it for the railway journey across India. Will you thank Helen very much for it? Also give my love to Cousin Susie, and say I am so very sorry I have not answered her very kind letter again this week, but I did appreciate it, and will write when I am just a wee bit less busy, and my mind a bit less occupied with what things we shall take to which place!
It would be a help if Dad had the least idea what he wants, but he never does and becomes very depressed if he is asked, poor darling. He was not made to be a traveler; he hates moving. He does not like to have his routine upset. He detests throwing things away or getting rid of them, because he always feels he may want them or “they may come in useful”. I am feeling quite elated at the thought of getting rid of so much, instead of having to pack it up and keep track of it.
I wonder whether by any extraordinary chance you have thought of giving my change of address to the ‘Reader’s Digest’? If you have not, and I think it most unlikely that you should have thought of such a thing, would you do it now?
Between all the members of the family, what a large part of the Empire we have visited. I fancy South Africa will be most interesting politically. I hope we shall meet some interesting people there.
This letter is being written in small snatches between many interruptions, and it is now after lunch, getting on for three o’clock. I feel tired, so I shall leave it, and just send you my dearest love and blessing.
Love to Susie and Helen and “small John”, now I suppose, no longer so small. Mother
Family letter from HPV
Calcutta
October 25th 1942
My dear Annette (name handwritten)
High souled is the word for the talk that I have been having with the Collector of Calcutta who has just been in saying that he must pay his respects to Mrs. Townend before we leave. This is a popular action in Bengal where they cannot realise that at the last moment one has any amount to do and does not welcome visits of ceremony.
There has been a great deal of sorting and destroying of papers. For years I have been accumulating masses of stuff about irrigation, assessment of taxes and such; it was my intention to write a manual about it all and in a vague way it still is. If I do not there is no chance of anything being done under my Development Act, for all who know how it is to work have left or died. Even if I write it nothing will be done. It is impossible to do anything without annoying some one or other; and Indian Ministers have shown that this is a thing not to be faced by them.
But my part in the packing has been very small. As usual I have been unable to resist doing some perfectly unnecessary and futile jobs at the last moment, such as: attempting to restore to a state of beauty two small aluminum pots which Joan thought of using but which turned out to have been allowed to corrode; or repairing various files which had begun to fall to pieces owing to the damp, particularly one which I bought for lecture notes in Oxford and which, after some 33 years of use owes me nothing now
The five cats survive. Mogul was heartbroken at the thought that we might have them destroyed. Yesterday hearing mewings during lunch I went out and saw him standing in waves of cats, doling out to them spoonfuls of brinjals or aubergine which seems to me a thing unsuitable for cats though they did not realise it. Our four white ex-virgins (as we suspect) and a white tom so like them and so mild-mannered that we suspect it of being one of our adopted six; of which two disappeared at an early stage.
One of the cats found trespassing in the house threw herself desperately off the top floor onto the garden path below; a horrid drop. She seemed a bit bewildered after it but none the worse in health. My other pets, those yellow wasps, have flourished of late and their nest in the palm tree outside our bedroom is huge.
The Pujah holidays have ended. Routine office starts again tomorrow. Retribution is falling upon me. Why did I rewrite all the Army stuff about Martial Law? Of course their efforts were all wrong: but the result of my interest is that an officer is to come in to see me about it all.
Last week’s storm did a lot of damage down south. A high tide swept over the protective embankments and not only drowned 80% of the cattle over a wide area but swamped the drinking water tanks, destroyed the standing crops and left salt on the fields so that it is doubtful whether they can grow another crop until after the next rains. Several hundred people killed, mostly by falling houses. The damage has been confined, strange to say, to areas where there had been Congress agitation. Over in Midnapore the cyclone was much worse and the damage greater. It is sad to think of the complete ruin overtaking all the little homes and of the utter hopelessness of any real recovery. Things are worse now than they used to be after such a disaster because rural credit has been destroyed by the debt cancellation measures taken by the Ministry. No one is going to lend when there may be at any moment a new law against recovery of debt.
We put a short advertisement in the Statesman this morning about my bicycle; and while I was in my bath it was snapped up. The first time that we have ever made a profit on a sale. The prices of cycles have gone up considerably since we bought this and I have scarcely used it; but I was surprised by the offer.
Much love
Dad
Family letter from LJT No 42
16 Alipore Rd. Calcutta
Oct 31st 1942
My Dears,
For the last four or five days I have been so busy that I have had no leisure to think of anything other than matters connected with our flitting, and have been on my feet, packing and what-not practically the whole time. I went to the office yesterday afternoon to give over charge officially, and went round saying goodbye to the various people with whom I have had most to do. When one goes into an office as a stranger or client, they seem unhomelike places, but I have learnt how quickly one gets used to ones office and fond of it. It all seemed so friendly and familiar yesterday, and it made me sad to say goodbye. When I got home about 5.30 for a cup of tea, I still had my own two suit cases to pack, and a few last things to clear up before coming away to this haven of rest. Its not often that I am really tired, but I was last night, both in the head and the limbs. It was delicious to have an unhurried bath, and sit in a comfortable chair without feeling that I ought to be up and seeing to something.
Winsome and Harry’s spare rooms are most delightfully comfortable. Each has its own wide sitting-room verandah, equipped with tables and chairs, so that there is lots of space to spread out ones belongings, and work and write. It is indeed a blessing to be able to come here for ten days after getting rid of the house, so that one can finish off personal details at leisure. I have not attempted to sort out medicines or work materials, or a good many papers. All the things I had no time to deal with, I just dumped into a big old trunk, and sent them all round here to be sorted later.
The last things, such as the last taking of the cook’s account, the last paying of the servants, did not fill me with poignant feelings of grief or regret. Life has been good out here, but I am satisfied that the time has come to finish with it, and my mind is more on the future than on the past.
Herbert if very very tired, but thank goodness, he has only one more ordinary days work, and he hands over on Tuesday.
Mogul has thrown himself into the idea of a sale with enthusiasm, and keeps on producing all sorts of queer old treasures which he thinks should be put in. I was round at 8 Theatre Rd this morning, partly to pay the servants, and partly to see that the house had been well cleaned, and partly to answer any questions from the man who is making the catalogue for the Sale. He spent two mornings in the house earlier in the week, but the small stuff, glass, china, cooking pots and so on had to wait till to-day. Late in the morning I went down to see how things were going, and found that two recently purchased rat traps were prominently displayed. “Surely” I said to the Babu, “you are not putting those things into the Sale?” “Let it be, Madam,” he said, “Someone will buy, and many little things make much money.”
In spite of thinking that I had finished everything except paying the wages, I was busy from 10 a.m. till 1.20 p.m. and was glad to lie down and rest after lunch. I did a most unusual thing for me. I fell into a deep sleep for more than an hour, and felt like the proverbial boiled owl when I woke. It did me good all the same, and when I had shaken myself up and had a cup of tea, I felt much refreshed, and ready to face the world again.
We have had an absolute spate of letters both from England and from Winnipeg during the last few days. Letters from home were written both before and after the news of Richard had come. There was the very interesting account of the operation on Annette’s eye, and Romey’s account of starting the new term’s work. A great delight, they all are, and later this evening I am going to sit down and read them all again, for the first readings were squeezed into the hurried days of packing and I want to savour them at greater leisure.
By the way I had one evening out during the week. I gave my fourth dollop of blood at the Saturday Club on Wednesday evening, and then had dinner there with Ramsey Chase, and Capt Richards (One of the group of Sapper Architects from Fort William) to hear about their holiday. It was a pleasant change and rest to the mind. Also it was nice to hear how much they enjoyed the trip, and to see how well they look after it.
Though I am not so busy now, I shall finish this letter off this evening, for I dont know how many interruptions there may be to-morrow.
Best love to you all
LJT
(at bottom of Oct 31 letter)
My darling Romey,
No less than six letters have come from you this week, and now at last the series is complete. The letters are Nos 67, 68 written at the beginning of July from Victoria. Then come 74, 75, 76 and 77, all in proper order, telling of the journey back to Winnipeg and of beginning the term.
To tell you the truth, I have been so desperately busy all week that I have not had time to digest them properly. I thought I would read them yesterday, (Saturday afternoon) but I was so tired that when I lay down on the bed after lunch, I just went off to sleep till tea-time. We had tea in the garden, and talked to Winsome, since I wanted to have a chat with her, and since I felt too lazy to tackle anything that required attention.
Now I am only going to write a brief letter, for I am still rather tired. I have spent the earlier part of the morning writing the servants “chits”. It takes quite a time when one has a big household.
Just a few comments on points that stand out in my mind. What a pity you had rain at Jasper. I looked again at my photo of Mt Robson. It’s a grand peak and I wish you had seen it. Next you seem to be putting so much into your time that we both hope you won’t overdo it. Once the term has got going and you are into the routine again, I suppose it will better. Is there any chance that you can get a party together again to share a taxi out to the university? Getting up in the dark, and having to change trams seems to mean rather a trying start to the day.
Next week it is quite likely you won’t get a letter at all, but unless we are strangely lucky and get a boat at once from Bombay, we should have some leisure while waiting there. Anyway there will be lots of time to go through all your letters in the train.
Best love to you my dear daughter,
Mother