8th April 1944

Saturday

Brilliant, warm, morning.  Went to Holly Trees, met Poulter, and we both went up to Craske’s old office in the High Street, to see if there was anything which might be of use to the Museum.  Saw Mrs. Craske, who is now winding up the business, and got a few odd things – a few more 1857 photos, Lexden Church, village, etc, but nothing fresh, the ox-roasting photo, and one of the Mayor and Corporation, 1879.  Also half a dozen 25” sheets of the Clacton area, which will come in useful, and a few Essex County Standards about 1863.  Somewhere Craske had quite a lot of plans of various building developments, but these have not yet come to light.  Mrs C. was very cautious about giving anything away, and young Cocker, Craske’s right-hand man, was watching everything very carefully.  The old man had a mass of information about the town, but I cannot find that he left any notebooks.  I remember that he told me once that he was instrumental in naming “King Stephen Road”, as the land on which it lays was in the hands of that King, but I have never found any reference to this.

Back at Holly Trees we found the Chairman, who told us that extensions were being built onto the Britannia Ironworks, adjoining the Priory ruins, and that considerable excavations were being made. So we went along there and found it was so – a large concrete building has been erected on the site of the choir of the church, destroying for ever any chance of excavating the complete plan of the church.  This scheme must have been passed by the Borough Engineer and the Town Planning Committee, yet we know nothing of this except what Alderman Blomfield discovers accidentally.

The curious thing is that practically nothing has been found except a few bones and there appears to be well over 3 feet of black soil with no sign of any walls or foundations.  I expected to see the bases of further columns of the arcades, but there is nothing.

It is a scandal that this work must have been going on for at least three months, and yet nothing was known of it.

This afternoon to the library and did some shopping.  Bought Vera Brittain’s “London’s Hour”, interesting but extraordinarily naïve.  Several minor errors too, such as when she twice speaks of the 17^th century as being four centuries ago.

Had great difficulty in getting any tea; owing to the great crowds in the town, but finally got into Jacklin’s.

This evening went down to see Hampshire, and gave him his trap-licence.  Had a fresh pony there, a little black forest pony, with badly clipped ears.  I drove it down to the “Goat and Boot”, while Hampshire rode my cycle.  Met Pim Barbour, the dealer there, and he showed me a fresh cob he had brought down from Diss, an ugly little devil, called Cock Robin, who is reputed to be very fast.  He was driven down here by road, 56 miles, and the little black pony as well, so they said.  I think the pony belongs to Pim as well, and Hampshire is keeping it for him.

They both tried to sell me a new set of brown cob harness for £20, but we all went in the “Goat” and had a drink and there was no deal.

Had supper at Culver St. and then back to Boxted by 9.  Glass falling, and looks like rain.

7th April 1944

Good Friday

Dull day, and cold.  The office open, as were all Government offices.  Shops shut except grocers and fish shops.  Saw crowds of people lining up for fish early in the morning.  All the Co-op. carts were out on deliveries.

This evening went to Lt Rivers again, with young Pickard’s ration book which I took in to get him another fortnight extension.  Got that, but they refused to give him any more.   The Roses were rather depressed at his frightful bad manners, which seem to get worse rather than better.

Back to Woodside in the moonlight.  Sound of dance music from the aerodrome and several ‘jeeps’ rushing up and down the Straight Road, I suppose taking girls home.

6th April 1944

Thursday

Foggy, wet and rather warm.  Miss Bentley said “What a horrid morning!”  Said “Yes”, but thought “no, Miss B, you are quite wrong.  It is a lovely morning, and I wish every morning and every evening would be like this for years to come.”

Cleared up late, and the sun came out.  Almond trees in bloom, and the hedges beginning to show green tips.

Saw Molly Blomfield at Scheregate today, looking most dreadfully ill.

Had supper at Boxted and Miss Bentley gave me an orange, the first I have had for some time.  Ate it dipped in sugar.  After supper went along to the Roses at Little Rivers to hear the radio.  At Boxted Cross saw a coal-black sheep with twin lambs, also coal-black.  The Roses told me that they were having a lot of trouble about young Pickard, as the authorities won’t allow him to come to live in the Defence Area.  There is as yet no sign of him losing his appalling American accent.

Bed at midnight.  The moon peeping through clouds, and a few ‘planes about tonight.

5th April 1944

Wednesday

Heavy, wet, mist this morning, after a quiet night. 

Noticed that the old “Sea Horse” Hotel in High Street is now being demolished, although why I do not know.  It was closed some years ago, and was bought by Kent, Blaxill & Co to extend their premises.  Strange that labour can be found for this sort of work, yet we can get nothing done on the farms.

Tremendous shower of rain when I was having supper in the café this evening, but did not last long.  Interesting notice has just appeared on an empty shop in Culver Street:

            “US Army First Aid

                        and

            Prophylaxis Station”

It is painted on an official American Red Cross sign.  What delightful people - such charming social habits.

Went round to see Diana as there was no show this week, but all she wanted to do was talk about her Texan, a large dull man of about 50, with whom she is having a very romantic affair.  She has now taken him to her people in Staffordshire, and is seriously considering going back to Texas with him after the war.  We understand that he is married, and some people say he is over 60, but it is impossible to tell with these weathered, hard-drinking men.  It all seemed to me to be very sad and depressing.

Fine night, brilliant moon.

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4th April 1944

Tuesday

Fine this morning, but some low cloud.  Mrs. Smith, who now comes to clean the office, is a professional “layer-out” of corpses, in which she takes a very great interest.  When she bought me a cup of coffee this morning she said: “Isn’t it sad about Mrs. Clubb?  Did you know her?” 

I replied: “Well, I know who you mean, but what has happened to her?”

Mrs. Smith: “Why, last Friday morning, she was a-cooking her husband’s dinner, and she came over all queer, so she went upstairs and lay on the bed and died there.  And when he came in at half-past twelve she was still warm!”  All this in broad Essex.  I made suitable remarks.  As a matter of fact I know the family quite well.  There was a boy who was at CRGS, (I believe he was eventually expelled for stealing) and a good-looking dark haired girl whom my Father taught at Hamilton Road.

This afternoon went up to the Cemetery about 5.30.  Mother’s grave has now been neatly turfed.  I want to get two oak crosses made, one for grandfather and grandmother Webb, and one for Mother.  Saw Mary Ralling up there, putting flowers on the family graves.  She did not see me.  Looked very ill and worn.  Her sister is no better, and she leads a dreadful life attending to her.  There seems to be nothing that we can do to help. 

Lovely clear evening.  Ald. Blomfield ‘phoned about some playbills which cannot be found, so decided to go to the Holly Trees.  Poulter full of all sorts of news.  He went up to the Royal Free Hospital last week, and was given a clean bill regarding his health.  He then discovered the horrifying business that the radio-department had in some way been mismanaged with the results that most of the staff are now afflicted with dermatitis from which it is not expected that they will recover.  He was told that one girl will lose her hands.  The department has now closed down.  This was the biggest radiological department in London, and treated an enormous number of cases.

Spent the whole evening at Holly Trees, until 10.30, going through material in the Muniment Room.  The place is in an appalling state of filth and confusion.  Wire’s copy of Morant and the whole file of the Colchester’s topographical prints are missing still, and no efforts are being made to recover them.  I gathered that Hull is accusing me of having had the prints.

However, managed to find the file of playbills which were wanted, although I don't really see why I should go to all this trouble when I have been treated as I have by the Museum authorities.

Left at 10.30 and back to Boxted under a glorious moon.  We are not expecting raids at full-moon any longer now, and feel comparatively confident.

2nd April 1944

Sunday

Forgot that the clocks were advanced another hour, so that when I got up at 10 it was really 11.  Had terrible stomach pains about 5a.m.  It went off though about 9, and was able to eat a decent breakfast.  Delighted to hear it raining hard in the night, and it kept on all morning.

Had a much-needed bath and went into Colchester for lunch at the old home.  Heard that Mr. Cripwell was dead, and buried on Friday.  He was one of Father’s oldest friends, and they were both teachers at Barrack Street School 50 years ago.  I remember hearing as a child how his first wife, whom my Mother knew well, was dying of cancer.  It made a great impression on me.  We lived opposite the Cripwells at 63 Wimpole Road.  Annie Ralling is apparently no better, and will see no-one.  Cannot see what I can do to help, except to get eggs.

The rain stopped, so I went over to Dedham, but was disappointed to find that the Sissons were out.  Had a cup of tea with Mathews, her brother, who ‘pumped’ me gently as to what I had seen in Wales.  Told him very little.  Also talked about the possibility of exhibiting British domestic livestock at Whipsnade, perhaps in genuine farm buildings acquired for that purpose.  He is very enthusiastic.

Went over to Lawford and bought some eggs.  Saw the Conrans in Dedham Street, cycling towards Higham.  Dodo told me last night that Louis MacNiece, the author, and his wife Hedley Anderson, are now at the cottage with the Conrans. 

Clouds thinned, but the glass remains low.  Hope for more rain.  Called at Box House, Dedham, and Homedale, Boxted, to try to settle two very complicated queries which have been worrying me for some time, but with little success.  Folkard has no idea how these stupid and apparently insolvable queries irritate me.

Stomach better tonight, but decided to have no supper. 

In the Sunday papers it is reported that the Americans yesterday bombed the Swiss town of Schaffenhausen, in broad daylight, killing 30.  Yet they are said to be able to bomb a target accurately on the blackest night, in the worst weather.  Also recorded that the RAF have shot down an American ‘plane by mistake.

The Germans claim that they destroyed 140 RAF bombers in the last raid, and we admit to losing 96.  The papers now full of excuses for the disaster.

Light until after 9 tonight, the sky clouded and birds in Sprott’s Marsh singing in the thinly falling rain, with the moon showing as a pale yellow glow.