30th April 1943

Friday

Dull at 6, then rain began and kept on all day.  Most refreshing.  This has been badly needed.  For some reason did not feel particularly nervous, although conditions were ideal for an attack.  Heard two planes go over during the morning, invisible in the driving mist.

Rain keeping on heavily.  Very few planes about tonight, and few last night, although we were expecting them to go out from the Suffolk fields.  Perhaps the heavy losses a fortnight ago have caused disorganisation.  Got wet through coming out tonight.

Nice story in the papers today, about a man aged 40, tubercular, a soldier, who was sent to Chatham Detention Barracks and was beaten to death by two sergeant-majors when he became too weak to move about.

29th April 1943

Thursday

Lovely day.  Made a long tour this afternoon.  Cycled out to Fordham by West Bergholt, and called at High Trees Farm on the way, to see Hadley, who has just moved in.  He showed me over the house, which is really very fine indeed, and seems to date from about 1500.  The timber is in excellent state, and there are several King posts exposed.  I must go again and make careful drawings.  It has been badly restored in recent years, and the outside is covered with rough cast cement.  The farm belongs to Capt. Jimmie Round, Joanna’s brother, and formerly belonged to his uncle, the great Horace Round.  It has been in the family 150 years at least.

Went on to Fordham, past Honds Farm, now all covered with huts and sheds of the aerodrome.  I had not been there since I took Bob over on that bitter March day last year.  Now poor old Findlay is dead and his farm is ruined.

I set off for Nayland, by way of Wormingford.  Called at Lt. Horkesley.  Now, in the full green of summer, the ruins [of the church destroyed by a bomb in 1940] look strangely settled, almost as if they had been in that state as long as Birch or Stanway.  Small bushes are growing up in the body of the church, and the heaps of rubble are covered with grass and weeds.  Where the Swynborne tomb used to be, some children had built a little “altar” out of broken monuments, and put flowers on it in two glass jam-pots.

I noticed that Lt. Horkesley Hall has been taken by the Lexden & Winstree Rural District Council as “Emergency Offices”, I suppose in event of the Colchester building being destroyed.

In a field by the “Beehive” Inn (now partly repaired) I saw Lockett’s Gyrotiller, which is coming onto the Committee land very soon.  Stopped and spoke to the engineer.  He had just broken a bolt, but fortunately the blacksmith’s shop was only just over the Ledge so he was able to get it mended at once.  This shop is now open three days a week, and is worked from Nayland.

Went down into Nayland village, and saw Collier, but he was quite unable to help us, being full of work for months to come.  I asked him if he could build a tumbril, but he said it was quite out of the question.

Lovely house opposite the “White Hart”, covered with mauve coloured wisteria, climbing all over it.

Cycled back by Red House Park.  Saw our spraying tackle at work on Col. Blewitt’s land and noticed how well his hedges are cut-and-laid.  Through Boxted, and called at Lt. Rivers.  Had tea with the Roses, then on to Dedham, called at “Shermans” and found Mrs. Sisson ill in bed.  Sisson was rather perturbed, as she had asked for a doctor, a thing she never does as a rule.

Got to Lawford at 7.30, having done in all about 34 miles, with very little discomfort except heart pains on hills.  Excellent day.

Rain now beginning at last.  This will make a wonderful difference to hay and corn crops.

28th April 1943

Wednesday

Clouds, SW wind, veering to N.W.  Showers at times, but not enough to do any real good.   The Repertory Company are doing Emlyn William’s “The Corn is Green” this week, so I decided to go.  It was a joy to hear “Idwal” saying “Didch yn fawr, syr, didch yn fawr!” and “Y Squire rhowch I mi ceiniog!”, and to hear the young miners saying “Nos dawch” as they went out into the darkness of the valley.

The play is, of course, excellent, but is far too subtle for English audiences, as I have no doubt the author is well aware.  You see the old Welsh language being laughed and patronised out of existence by the Squire and the school-ma’am.  “Miss Moffatt” determines to rescue “Morgan Evans” from his native savagery on the strength of his natural poesy.  She makes him read Burke, Voltaire, and Macaulay – not Llywarch Hen, Taliesin or Ap Gwilym - because she had never heard of them, and the magnificent torrents of their words,  like the cataracts that pour down the sides of Snowdon, were entirely lost to Morgan, a poet himself.

I enjoyed the play immensely.  Sat in a 3/6 seat upstairs, with Cr. and Mrs. Blomfield just behind me.  The hall was packed to capacity.

Cycled back to Lawford in the twilight, beneath huge rolling clouds, black and angry, streaked with red in the west.  A few spots of rain.

Borrowed Housman’s “Victoria Regina” from Diana Davis, [Stage Manager of Colchester Repertory Company] reading in bed tonight. 

27th April 1943

Tuesday

Dull early, sun showing through thin clouds.  Cuckoos calling.  Tractors working in front of the house.  Had breakfast, and got in by 5 past 9.  Poulter told me there was a short alarm yesterday morning, at a quarter to 7.  

Poulter tells me that Hull has been informed by the Office of Works that the windmill at Bardfield Saling is to be destroyed in connection with an aerodrome.  Hull is in a tremendous state, telephoning to Borough and County Police, trying to get a permit to have it drawn and photographed.  It so happened that the Air Ministry came through on the phone just after lunch about a matter at Wormingford, so I spoke of this business and was assured that no permit was needed, as the mill is not on the actual aerodrome site.  Hull of course is not convinced, but Poulter goes off tomorrow to see what he can do.

Home to tea.  Mother full of the ringing of bells on Sunday – “So nice to hear the lovely bells again.”  All I heard was Dedham's bells, very faintly.

26th April 1943

Easter Monday

Four years ago today I saw the last London Van Horse Parade at Regents Park.  I can see them now – United Dairies, Carter Paterson, Hays Wharf Cartage – 600 lovely turnouts.  I was with Woods and Day, and then I met Rose afterwards.  Now Day is dead, Rose is a stranger, and only Woods is really happy, still driving his Suffolk mare about Colchester's streets.  What am I?  A very bad and inefficient secretary of a War Agricultural Committee.

Terrible wind all day, with driving rain at times.  Writing, and mounting photos.  After lunch, harrowing with Roger in the paddock by the stream, levelling mole-hills.  Most satisfying work, to see the little hillocks break and spread under the harrows, the crumbs of dirt swept along by the bushes tied behind. 

This evening went up the hill with glasses, to see a very high tide, which covered all the marshes between here and East Bergholt.  Tiny figures of black polled cattle, picking their way through the water, and browsing on little islands.

25th April 1943

Easter Sunday

Rain and shine, and very strong S.W. wind.  Cycled over to Boxted for the christening of the Roses' baby, Harriet.  Took a bottle of cider and 2 bottles of beer.  Rather amused that such a modern young woman as Mrs Rose should bother about a church christening, but her husband is still, I believe, a practising Christian.  She told me that the ceremony took place in the middle of the morning service.  Very few of the gentry were there, and Col. Guy Blewitt walked out as the ceremony was beginning.  [Colonel Blewitt disapproved of christenings taking place during a morning church service]

Quite a party at the cottage.  Rushbury was there, rather pompous, fresh from the Royal Academy Hanging Committee.  Brought his two pretty little daughters, one of whom was godmother.  Mrs. Rushbury was unwell, and did not come.  Lady Minter and her sister called, and there were several others.  We all had excellent cider-cup, which I much enjoyed.

When the others had gone, I stayed to eat the lunch I had brought with me, and spent a peaceful afternoon reading and listening to music on the radio.

Back to Lawford after tea.  Called at Sissons, but Mrs. Sisson still in bed.  Hope it is nothing serious.

Fisher’s sister-in-law is staying at the cottage for a holiday.  She lives in Norwich, and was there through all the raids last year.  As a result of these she now flatly refuses to go to bed if she hears aircraft about, whether hostile or not.  As there is so little room in the cottage, Joy invited Mrs. Fisher and her daughter Ivy to sleep in the house.

Fine night.  A few planes going over.

24th April 1943

Saturday

Rain and shine, fresh wind, W. and veering to S.W.  Mounting photos all morning.  After lunch drove Robin to Colchester, and brought back 3 trusses of hay.  Went to Bourne Mill.  Grass poor, but old Bob looking very well.

As I drove back, a sort of haze came up from the west, and cumulus clouds floating below it swam across the sky like great prehistoric monsters in an aquarium.  More photo work tonight.

Sleeping badly.  Find it very hard to sleep before 3a.m.  Feel extraordinarily nervous for no reason at all.  It seems to me that there are not quite so many heavy trains during the night as there a week or so ago.

Nott was married at Twinstead today, but nobody was invited from the office.