Letter from Frances Hodgkins to Willie Hodgkins
Date
28 Jun 1940
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Object Detail
Date
28 Jun 1940
Transcript
The Croft Bradford on Tone June 28 – 40
My Dearest Willie
I hope you have had my letter telling you I have moved away from the S. coast into Somerset. Air raids have started and we are told by various eminent people of the wireless that they will get worse & that we're in for a bad time that we must try & be brave etc & stay where we are & when we see German parachoutists coming towards us we must scatter broken glass in front of them. So on & so forth.
I must say old Thatcher, the gardener, rather an old dear, puts it more to my taste “we must [not?] be rash with them Miss”. His opinion is that for safety it is best to go out into the fields & lie down but the Postman says “you stay where you are Miss” and I agree with him. The only shelter for the village is under the church Tower, on the hill top, for 50 people in a village of 200. Tower very old & shaky.
Enemy planes have been over Bradford 2 nights this last week, chased from Wales, & missing Taunton Station. We heard the bombs, 4-6 miles away, awoke us, but we went to sleep again. I happen to be alone in the cottage at present. Some friends who were joining me not yet come. A R P men patrol outside. The midsummer nights are light & short . A friend wrote in a letter “All New Zealanders are brave I am sure”. Yes, with one exception. My Dear this is the bloodiest war. I am sure you are as heartsick & as stunned as I am and now comes this last shock of France’s collapse & betrayal and, to us, mortal peril. It is no use expounding theories about the war news. One can only hope for the best, that is, that Hitler will find in England his Waterloo.
There are 2 French women refugees in the village. Their anger is terrible to see. They tear their hair. They have torn up their French passports. The younger woman tore off her bracelet & raffled it for the British Red X. Poor beautiful France she is “stripped to the bone & left with only her eyes to weep from”. Her desolation is complete. My grief is deep that I shall never look on her immortal beauty again. This is power! God help us!
I do the housework. My cooking, my shopping, a spot of weeding in Geoffrey's immaculate garden, all for escape from thought. Not much good for the mind, but it’s escape. Practically no painting. Plenty of food - bar sugar, for jam. There is a store cupboard full of reserves in case of communication being out. Lots of vegetables. No fear of starving. You will remember you said I look as if I could stand a siege that is live on my fat. I certainly shall.
It was cheering at this difficult moment to see Helen Simpson’s brave book on N Z women. I read it with greatest interest & pride and am letting some of my friends read it before returning it to you. Thank you for sending it. I am grateful. What grand heroic scale pioneer women they were. I know a woman who wld like to read it. Her name is Abrahams, daughter of Dunedin High School Head Master. I like the illustrations so much. How green were the English roots planted in N Z soil & how green they remain. I wish I could fight as those women fought. Goodbye Dears. You must not worry. Send this to Sis.
All love Frances How is dear little Issy getting on. Better? I shall stay here - put, live from day to day & be guided by events
My Dearest Willie
I hope you have had my letter telling you I have moved away from the S. coast into Somerset. Air raids have started and we are told by various eminent people of the wireless that they will get worse & that we're in for a bad time that we must try & be brave etc & stay where we are & when we see German parachoutists coming towards us we must scatter broken glass in front of them. So on & so forth.
I must say old Thatcher, the gardener, rather an old dear, puts it more to my taste “we must [not?] be rash with them Miss”. His opinion is that for safety it is best to go out into the fields & lie down but the Postman says “you stay where you are Miss” and I agree with him. The only shelter for the village is under the church Tower, on the hill top, for 50 people in a village of 200. Tower very old & shaky.
Enemy planes have been over Bradford 2 nights this last week, chased from Wales, & missing Taunton Station. We heard the bombs, 4-6 miles away, awoke us, but we went to sleep again. I happen to be alone in the cottage at present. Some friends who were joining me not yet come. A R P men patrol outside. The midsummer nights are light & short . A friend wrote in a letter “All New Zealanders are brave I am sure”. Yes, with one exception. My Dear this is the bloodiest war. I am sure you are as heartsick & as stunned as I am and now comes this last shock of France’s collapse & betrayal and, to us, mortal peril. It is no use expounding theories about the war news. One can only hope for the best, that is, that Hitler will find in England his Waterloo.
There are 2 French women refugees in the village. Their anger is terrible to see. They tear their hair. They have torn up their French passports. The younger woman tore off her bracelet & raffled it for the British Red X. Poor beautiful France she is “stripped to the bone & left with only her eyes to weep from”. Her desolation is complete. My grief is deep that I shall never look on her immortal beauty again. This is power! God help us!
I do the housework. My cooking, my shopping, a spot of weeding in Geoffrey's immaculate garden, all for escape from thought. Not much good for the mind, but it’s escape. Practically no painting. Plenty of food - bar sugar, for jam. There is a store cupboard full of reserves in case of communication being out. Lots of vegetables. No fear of starving. You will remember you said I look as if I could stand a siege that is live on my fat. I certainly shall.
It was cheering at this difficult moment to see Helen Simpson’s brave book on N Z women. I read it with greatest interest & pride and am letting some of my friends read it before returning it to you. Thank you for sending it. I am grateful. What grand heroic scale pioneer women they were. I know a woman who wld like to read it. Her name is Abrahams, daughter of Dunedin High School Head Master. I like the illustrations so much. How green were the English roots planted in N Z soil & how green they remain. I wish I could fight as those women fought. Goodbye Dears. You must not worry. Send this to Sis.
All love Frances How is dear little Issy getting on. Better? I shall stay here - put, live from day to day & be guided by events
Pages
5 pages
Sender's address
The Croft - Bradford on Tone
Institutional No.
MS-Papers-0085-45
Credit Line
Letters
from
Frances
Hodgkins.
Field,
Isabel
Jane,
1867-1950
:
Correspondence
of
Frances
Hodgkins
and
family
/
collected
by
Isabel
Field.
Ref:
MS-Papers-0085-45.
Alexander
Turnbull
Library,
Wellington,
New
Zealand.
https://natlib.govt.nz/records/22397035
https://natlib.govt.nz/records/22397035