7th March 1944

Tuesday

Slept well in the fake four-poster.  Woke about 7.  Could hear the Americans and their girls murmuring in the next room – apparently all four were in there together.  Nobody seemed to be getting up.  Went down at 8, found the handsome, dark woman getting her own breakfast.  Did not feel competent to rummage in a strange pantry, so went off without any, and stopped at the lorry driver’s place on Gunhill for a cup of hot tea.  There was a farm labourer there playing with a pin-table, at that hour in the morning.

Some talk about the “invasion”.  In some quarters it is suggested that there will be a serious counter-invasion.  Hadleigh is already preparing to take in persons evacuated from coastal towns.

A fire broke out at the “Regal” this afternoon, through a fuse, and quite a lot of damage done.  When I went by about 6.30 there were several fire-engines outside and the street was flooded with water.

Today has been fine and sunny, as warm as spring.  Great armadas of ‘planes coming and going all the time.  One never hears a word of sympathy for the wretched Dutch, Belgians and French, who must be suffering frightfully.  Tonight a brilliant moon, almost full.  Walked from Dedham village to Stratford Bridge.  Huge black shadows across the road.  Church clocks at Dedham, Stratford, E. Bergholt and Higham sounding across the valley as they struck 10 one after another.

6th March 1944

Monday

Very sharp frost last night, but not too cold this morning.  Paid my account at the “Sun” - £2-12-6. for the week, not unreasonable.  To Colchester by 9.15.  Busy morning getting ready for the Committee meeting.  Got a letter from the Conway Hotel to say they have a room.  Worked it out, and found I should have to spend about £6 a week to be comfortable there - £24 a month.  Well worth it.  Long to go.  The question – when?

Committee until 6.15.  The Chairman very indignant about young M.’s “black market” case.  He is convinced that young M. is an out-and-out rogue, and had been discussing the whole matter at great length with Stewart Richardson, the chairman of the Witham Bench, who tried the case.  It all seemed very irregular to me. I thought that once a case was tried it was finished, and I should not have expected a Chairman of a Bench to go out of his way to injure still further a man who had been found guilty.

Back to Colchester 6.30.  In Crouch St saw a black woman in the American air-force uniform, walking along with a black soldier.  Had egg on toast and a cup of coffee at the Milk Bar in John Street, and then cycled to Stratford.  The Talbooth seems comfortable and clean, but terribly old-world, everything fake of course.  Several Americans staying there with young girls.

Went to bed early in a curious little room with a miniature four-poster bed.  Bright moonlight night, and many planes flying in formation, went out at about 8 o’clock. 

Feel terribly out of place here.  Wish I could go to Wales tomorrow.

5th March 1944

Sunday

At last the wind has dropped.  Almost warm this morning.  Excellent breakfast at 9 o’clock, and then cycled slowly over to Spider Hall, Raydon, to see if the Miss Stoneys could let me have a horse and cart.  On the way saw Home Guards going to their morning drill, men digging in their gardens, children dawdling along to church.  The bells were ringing at Dedham, and Stratford, the gentle clanging drifting across the sunny valley, the pale blue sky full of fat white clouds, just as Constable used to paint it.

Had not been to Spider Hall since I was there with Poulter about 12 or 14 years ago, when we went to see the newly discovered wall painting.  As I went up the drive I saw the youngest Miss Stoney in a sheep pen with three lambs, the first this year.  In the farm-yard was a pea-cock stalking proudly, a flock of guinea fowl, several dogs and cats, and on a nearby apple-tree was a pure white cockatoo with a yellow crest, who gave frightful shrieks, interspersed with the remark “Hullo, cocky-boy!  Bugger the bird!”

Unfortunately there were no horses except a very old Welsh cob and a little pony which was lame, so they could not help me, but they very kindly offered to bring my books up to the garage by the roadside with their tractor.  They entertained me most kindly, and gave me an excellent lunch, after which we looked through paintings of cattle which Miss Stoney had done during recent years.  She had one of the old Foulness Ox, and several of the Duke of Bedford’s Park Cattle.  Talked about the wild Chillingham Cattle, which neither of us had seen, and looked through reproductions of Stubbs, Constable, and Munnings.  The house is very well kept, and they have an excellent library.

Was then shown all over the farm and the stock.  Saw the “scape-goat”, a handsome billy who runs with the cows.  I was assured that his presence had cured the contagious abortion which at one time was rife in the herd.  A very ancient belief.

Left at 3, and went through Lower Raydon to Valley Farm.  A heavy bomber came over very low, apparently flying in distress, while one of the crew fired red Verey lights.  It sank below the trees and seemed to land at Raydon Aerodrome.  Planes coming and going all day.

Down to Dedham, to tea at the café, then to Lawford with some washing.  Met Joy just above the farm, riding back from a visit to the Minneys’.  Went back to Sissons, and saw a beautiful book of Leonardo da Vinci reproductions, done last year by the Phaidon Press.  Magnificent.  Saw Cottee the taxi driver, who promised to bring the books down from Higham either Tuesday or Wednesday.  Two other taxi men refused.

Had a bath at the “Sun” and early to bed.  Cloudy.

4th March 1944

Saturday

Still freezing hard, and a clear blue sky.  Lot of planes going out early this morning.  Could get very little done at the office as there were so many people in and out all the time.  Can’t concentrate.  Daphne was rather miserable, so on the spur of the moment, asked her to go to the new Orson Wells film this afternoon – “Journey into Fear”.  Very good, and much enjoyed it.  Afterwards had sausages and tea at Culver Street, then cycled to Higham and spent the evening washing crockery and trying to get the place clean.  Have not yet been able to get my stuff away.  Can't get a horse anywhere.

Back to Dedham at 8, and went to Sisson’s for an hour or so.  Felt much better today.  Big crowd in the “Sun” tonight, and a lot of noise, laughing, singing, clattering of bottles and glasses.

To bed early, confident there would be no raid.  How mad we are – all at once we have decided that there will be no serious raids in brilliant moonlight, whereas only 4 or 5 months ago we prayed for wet, dirty weather at the full moon.

3rd March 1944

Friday

Had a good night, not so much pain.  Ate breakfast, watching the pigeons flutter about in the yard.  They live in a pigeon-cote fastened to the gable of the old “turnpike stair”.

Finished reading Katherine Mansfield’s Journal.  Very dull indeed.  Strange that a good story writer should write such poor stuff.

At the office found a letter from Meg MacDougall, without stamp or postmark, and a censor’s label on it.  Luckily its contents were harmless.

When in Culver Street for lunch noticed that another emergency water-tank is being put up, against the cellar of the old house.  Went down the cellar, through a hole in the ceiling, and found it still in good condition.  Can't think what can eventually be done with it.

Back to Dedham at 6.30, then called at Stratford “King's Arms” only to receive a final answer that there was nothing doing.  On a sudden decision went to the Talbooth, Mrs Roper’s dreadful place, and without any trouble got a room - £3 a week.  I can afford it now that I am getting £4-12-6.

2nd March 1944

Thursday

Bitterly cold morning, and still a clear, cloudless sky.  Wind more westerly, and very strong.  Did not leave until 9, as I had to go to Sheepen first.  Mr Craig was to meet me there, but he did not turn up.  Made a few notes on the repairs necessary to make the one remaining shed at the farm serviceable.  Everything else has gone.  Nothing remains of the big cowhouse except the concrete floor and the drain, looking exactly like Roman foundations.  A gang of land girls nearby were cutting down a hedge and burning the brushings.

Managed to prevent the War Agricultural Committee from selling one of the old horses from East Mersea in the open market.  Persuaded Frank Warren to have the old chap killed on the farm.

Went home to tea.  Miss Payne had managed to get kippers, most delightful.  This evening to Boxted to the Roses’.  Very pleasant evening, chatter, and listening to the radio.  Left at 9.30, and back to Dedham under the shining moon, a few planes about, and dull gunfire to the south. 

While at Boxted, saw recent copies of “Time & Tide”, the “New Statesman”, and the “Spectator”.  Harold Nicolson writes a most outspoken article against the Government’s wicked policy of bombing, quite the best I have seen on this subject.

As I cycled through Langham I could see the Higham beacon twinkling away on my left.  The night was very clear.  Icy cold.

1st March 1944

Wednesday

Two frightful bouts of pain during the night, but better in the morning.  Bright, clear day, with light N.W. wind.  Very cold.  Cycled in.  Saw two men at Ardleigh Heath, opposite Mary Hulbert’s old cottage, filling a corn drill, the horses standing with their feet in some cabbages, a vast area of smooth, black, harrowed soil behind them.

The office was filthy and full of smoke.  Felt depressed and ill.  At lunch time, saw a shallow trench opened along the E. side of the “Playhouse”, and picked up a few small Roman sherds.  Noticed that Rose’s café was shut.  Can she really be married, or was it only a stupid joke?  Made me feel both sad and frustrated, and when I went back to the office Snowball called me “Itma”, a name Rose often uses.  It made me go quite mad, so that I walked down the passage and gave a violent kick to one of the doors, splitting the panel and my shoe.  I was furious.  Rose Browne, Rudsdale's former girlfriend, married a soldier on this day 70 years ago.  CP

Tonight went over to Higham.  Called at the “King’s Arms” at Stratford, to see if I could get a room there.  The land-lady was not hopeful, as she thought the brewers would probably object.  It is a pleasant little place, and both the landlord and his wife seemed very nice people.  I gave her my name, whereupon she said “Well, I never!  To think your dear old dad used to teach me at Barrack Street nearly 50 years ago!”  She was a Colchester woman, and knew my Mother, and most of the Webb family.  We had a long talk, and I think something may come of this eventually.  It would suit me admirably. 

As I came out into the bright moonlit street, a sort of siren in the pumping station nearby gave a shriek, so guessed it must be a raid.  To the S.E. I saw faint searchlights, and clusters of rocket-shells bursting.  Strangely, could not hear explosions.  A plane came over, and circled over Raydon, but there was no more firing and no bombs fell.  Did not feel particularly nervous for once.  Went to Higham and did some more packing, then back to Dedham half past ten.  There were still planes about, but no sirens.

The landlady of the “King's Arms” gave me some amusing instances of illiteracy.  A man of 23, working at Langham Fruit Farm, was put in the army and his mother was very worried because he could not write to her, never having learnt.  The man himself was very scared at going away, as he had never been in a train.  When this story was told in the public bar, three or four other young men revealed that they had never been in trains either.  She also told me of a girl of 15 who could neither read nor write nor tell the time.  When it was necessary for her to do anything at a special time, a clock face was drawn, with the hands showing that particular time, and she was told to wait until the hands on the real clock were in the same position.