15th April 1945

Sunday

Glorious warm day.  Had determined to write to Ann, when Jessie Swift came in and asked Dorothy Brewer and myself to go to a picnic at Walton Dam.  The orchards at Walsoken were a mass of blossom.  Dorothy Brewer and I went on ahead along the Sea Bank to Walpole, which she had never seen.  Took a much greater interest in buildings in the light of what O’Neil had told me yesterday.  Noticed the “tumbled” gable a very common feature.

A large brick tower-mill stands near the Seabank and by Walpole Church are two high mounds, most curious, cannot see what they are.  The rectory is a fine house of ancient beautifully weathered brick.  As we went into the churchyard an Italian prisoner came out, saying “good afternoon” very cheerfully.  Walked slowly round the outside by the passage which runs under the chancel, paved with slabs and cobbles, and covered by vaulting with finely moulded bosses and corbels.  In the east wall of the passage there are still two or three iron rings to which horses are tethered, and it was here, one Sunday, more than 150 years ago, that the great Shales was foaled to the sound of the prayers and singing overhead.  Can his owner have had any idea that the wet smelly little thing laying on the cobbles would achieve such fame that years later, when old and stiff, men would raise their hats to him in Norwich market? Felt strongly that some memorial to the “wonder horse” ought to be placed in this passage.

We saw the figure of Hickathrift on the N. wall of the chancel, and then went into Walpole Church, which has a beauty quite unsurpassed.  The absence of coloured glass (except in the E. window) fills the great arcades with cool, clear light, and the building has a wonderful feeling of repose and quiet silence.  The passage under the chancel makes it necessary to elevate the altar about 6 feet, so that it is approached by a flight of steps which are covered with a rich blue carpet, the altar itself bearing a pair of tall candlesticks and a crucifix.  The choir is lined with richly carved stalls and stone sedilla behind them, as if it were some conventual church rather than that of a small simple parish in the Fens.  There are no less than 7 beautiful brass chandeliers, 6 small ones in the choir and one large one just in front of the chancel arch.  The pulpit, most of the pews, and the great arched screen at the W. end are all of the early 17^th century, and are in beautiful preservation.  Near the porch is one of those curious little sentry-boxes, used by the parson when taking a funeral service in wet weather.  Went up into the ringers’ gallery in the tower, and looked down the glorious vista of the nave, with the sun streaming in through the windows.  The space between the tower and the screen is as large as the whole of any normal church, with a wooden screen in one corner serving as a vestry.  The church is a national monument.

In the graveyard are several 17^th century stones.

We then had to hurry back to Walton Dam for the picnic, which was really rather fun.  Little Mrs. Jewson was there, whose husband was probably released from a prison near Brunswick yesterday.  Her little boy was with her, aged 6, who was 3 when he last saw his father.  He borrowed my glasses, to look at some “forts” coming in from the sea, crying “That’s a German!  That’s a German!  Bang! Bang! Bang!” with greatest enjoyment.  Belinda looked on with astonishment.

Glorious evening and a golden sunset when we all cycled back to Wisbech, a crescent moon hanging in a deep blue sky.

Most of the papers say that Churchill will make “an announcement of utmost importance” on Thursday if not before.  One succulent piece of news, to delight the British as they eat their Sunday dinners, is that old von Mackensen has been “captured” by the Yankees.  What a triumph!  He is well over 96, and long since retired from the Army, but the Yankees are photographed hauling the old fellow from his home, and taking him away in a car.  However wicked an old brute he may have been, one would have wished him to be spared this last indignity.  What an end of the young officer who galloped through France in 1870.

Some of the papers now imply that we are in danger from radio-controlled ‘planes filled with explosives, some of which have already been used on the Continent.

14th April 1945

Saturday

O’Neil spent a pretty terrible night at the White Lion, which was the only place where he could get a bed.  The Rose & Crown refuse to take any visitors unless they are a) American, b) crooks, or c) friends of the management.

Spent the whole morning with O’Neil, who then went back to London.  Letter from dear Ann, who is ill again with rheumatism.  Must try to go to see her, but have no money or time for such a trip. 

This afternoon went to the Wisbech Gymkhana, held in the field behind Bank House, “by kind permission of the Hon. Alexadrina Peckover” as the posters announced.  Am quite sure the dear old lady has not the least idea what goes on at these gymkhanas (whatever the plural may be).  Never have I seen such a mob of horse-thieves, gangsters and general riff-raff.  There were three bookmakers (professionals) with their stands, all quite illegal of course, but ignored by the police who were on duty on the ground.  There seemed something quite disgusting in the sight of little boys and girls of not more than 10 or 12 years old betting in 10/- notes with these “bookies”.  The real point of the afternoon was the “flapping” races.  It was for all the world like a Rowlandson picture, such a mob of odd-sized, odd shaped, odd-coloured horses, ridden by as queer a crowd of jockeys as one would wish to see – youths with long hair, little girls, coarse blousy women.  The main race included every type of horse from a 12 hh pony to a second hand race-horse, with about 25 entries in all.  Some were handicapped to such an extent that the runners were placed all the way round the course.  There were about 4 laps, and by a miracle nobody was killed, but two of the smaller ponies came down heavily.

There were two or three rather good looking turnouts on the ground, the best being the thickset black cob belonging to the dealers in the Horse Fair.  On the whole the horses were a very poor lot.

Rain all the evening, cold and windy.  Sat up until 11, reading, writing and talking the most amusing nonsense with Dorothy Brewer.

13th April 1945

Friday

Brilliant fine warm day.  No talk anywhere about President’s Rooseveldt's death yesterday – apparently not worthy of a moment’s consideration.  O’Neil [from the Ministry of Works] came today, an inspection, and said he had travelled from Yarmouth with three or four U.S. soldiers in the carriage, but Rooseveldt was not even mentioned.  Yet we cannot say what the outcome of this may be.  The “Daily Express” has the somewhat misleading headlines – PRESIDENT ROOSEVELDT DEAD.  ROAD TO BERLIN OPEN.  There is a very strong hint that Churchill will announce the “end” of the war next Thursday, and in the House yesterday an odious comparison was made with a similar announcement about the South African War, after which it continued for another 2 years.

Curtis Edwards in again for an hour, looking very ill.  Met Mrs. Saltmarsh yesterday, and she agreed that he is really very ill, but nothing can be done.

Met O’Neil at 1.30, and had lunch with him.  Went all over the town with him, showed him everything.  Felt dead tired.  Had tea, then this evening took him to Leverington – walking all the way because he cannot ride a cycle.  Showed him Rabbit Hill, Leverington Church, Roman Bank, and called at the Hall, where Mrs. Munday made us very welcome.  Back to the church with Mrs. M. and went up the tower.  Walked back to Wisbech in the dusk, talking about Mortimer Wheeler, now a General, and Ward Perkins and Stuart Piggott, now both Lt. Cols.  O’Neil had been doing some work on air-photos after raids, and said that the efficiency of US and British raids was often very poor.  More often than not they hit the wrong places.  In a recent “special” attack on the Hague, to destroy the Gestapo HQ, a school was hit by mistake and utterly destroyed.  He has been doing a lot of research among the ruins of Yarmouth, with most interesting results.  Says the Rows are almost entirely destroyed and he fears the Borough Engineer will wipe out all that remain.

Bed at 10.30, very tired.  Chestnut tree blooming at Leverington.

12th April 1945

Thursday

There was rain all last night, and this morning everything was wonderfully green and sweet.  Fine and warm all day.  Had a letter from Father, 3 and a half pages, dear old man.  Answered at once.  Also had a letter from Poulter, asking my advice as to whether he should go to Winchester, which he has again been offered.  If he does leave it would really be the end of the Colchester Museum, as he is the last link with the saner, happier times.  Yet – should he be expected to stay there, enduring the insults and bad manners of Hull.  Must think this out.

“Colchester Gazette” came, from which we learn that old Dr Campbell of Layer Marney Towers is dead.

Had the windows cleaned, for the first time for a year.

Tonight took Jessie Swift to the orchestral concert in the Queen’s School.  It was really very good indeed.  Very funny incident – the programme included “Eine Kleine Nacht Musik”, which by what I imagined to be a printer’s error was written “Keine”.  To my delight, when the item was announced, the conductor actually read it out as “Keine”!

Walked home in a pleasant warm evening, under the stars.  Had a cup of coffee at the Swifts and then to bed.

11th April 1945

Wednesday

Very fine and warm all day.  Many ‘planes about.  This evening went down to Elm, and called at the Coulsons’.  Bought two tickets for a concert tomorrow night.  Coming back after a shower of rain, saw there was a big night exercise going on – at least 50 searchlights, and many aircraft flying about in every direction.  Could hear men’s voices from far away over the fields, and the noise of the ‘planes above.

10th April 1945

Tuesday

Cold this morning and had the office fire on, but fine later.  Old Edwards came at 10.30 and stayed until nearly 12.  Got busy afterwards, when he had gone.  Worked in the Library and went back again this evening.  Feel I get nothing done at all.

9th April 1945

Monday

Fine, but very cold and a bit of a mist.  Got ready for the Committee meeting.  All the old fossils came trooping in, shivering and snuffling, poor Edwards looking like death itself.  Gardiner also looked very ill.  Rather a sticky meeting.  First of all they jibbed about the fiction books being given to the County Library, and some members suggested that I wanted to throw away “valuable books”, in any case they ought to be handed to the Grammar School.  Eventually they appointed a sub Committee to deal with the matter, consisting of Levers, old Wolton, and Curtis Edwards.

Next came my suggestions to alter the time of the Annual Meeting next month from 12 to 4.30.  Got support from Mrs Munday and Levers, but great protest from Girling, Wolton and Curtis Edwards, who said that such an alteration would be illegal, as the Trust Deed, dated 1869 specifically gives the time as 12 midday on the first Monday in May!  Wondered whether to ask if summer-time had been allowed for.

After the meeting Dr Bullmore called to see the new accessions, much regretting that he was too busy to come to the Committee.

Got a copy of Gardiner’s “History of Wisbech” from Bowers & Bowers today for 7/6.  Cheap.

Am becoming worried about money – the income tax is so heavy that I have little more than £3 a week to live on, and am rapidly spending the remainder of my savings.  Girling still owes me about £10 on the last quarter’s salary.

Went out to tea with little Miss Ellis.  Miss Brewer came back today, and sat talking this evening, when it was fine and sunny.  About 8 a great mass of bombers went out, and there was a heavy explosion in the distance, shaking the windows.  Probably one crashed over in Norfolk.  No more signs of the war ending, nothing in the papers but jeers and horrid gloatings over the destruction of Germany.  Silly arguments as to whether they can send the rockets from Norway or not.

Planes coming in about 10.30, and another tremendous explosion.  Alarmed this evening to find the door from the office to the Hall was sticking badly.  Hope there is further settlement.

Feel rather ill today, left side very painful. Really ought to see a doctor.

Looking through Archaeologia: Vol: 90 today, noticed Ward Perkins’ paper on the Iron Age hill-fort near Ightham, Kent, in which he kindly acknowledges my help with regard to Essex sites.  Can't remember the circumstances at all.