Letter from W S Meadmore (Bill) to Marion
28 February, 1941
Temporary address
c/o Mrs Ingham
35 Tanza Road
Hampstead, N.W.3.
My dear Marion,
Once more I take up me pen in my hand, pausing as I do so from the horrors of war and hoping as 'ow this reaches you inn the pinks as it leaves me. PINK! Good heavens, I'm blue, frozen with March winds in February.
I have news that I flatter myself will astound you. Very shortly I shall be in residence at 7 Margaretta Terrace, Chelsea, S.W.3. Hampstead has beaten me. I feel the time has now arrived o retire to a safe spot. No.7 is altogether charming, not a window broken, + the last tenant has obligingly left superb linoleum all over the house and a magnificent black-out.
One, Clifford Hall, (Good God! Have I put my foot in it? Isn't that your husband?) (Oh! - and the father of your child?) (this bracket to complete the Trinity) inspected the place with me on Wednesday last. Rent £120 = rates and taxes £35. £155 a year. Preposterous for such an entirely delightful residence. I offered the agent £100 all in. He phoned this morning and said I could have it for £104. So you see you are not the only one that is moving.
Of course, I've put the sweet before the soup, the train before the engine, the cart before the horse. As you know I've been wanting to move for ages. I've spent the dreariest winter of my life at 90, only my indomitable courage has kept me going and cheerful. Then, why haven't I moved? Three reasons:
1. Back rent of £26. Landlord not worrying but he would have been more than nasty had I given notice.
2. Cost of move. Estimated at £10.
3. The terrible job of cleaning up the rubbish of 9 years.
God, as usual, has come to my rescue and answered my prayers.
No - I am not moving on the proceeds of loot, robbery, blackmail or gangsterism.
- I hastened to say this because the thought I know is on your mind.
It is the bloody house next door.
Last Monday the Germans, up to their old game of trying to make my life miserable, dropped 5 in a row. One in the pond! One outside 116. One in the area of No 88.
Only a few days before workmen had finished putting up my ceiling and repairing the cracks in the wall.
While the bombs were dropping, I stood in my sitting room. The final one covered the room in soot and ceiling. When the house had stopped swaying and I had stopped swearing at the mess, I said, well, that little lot dropped on the Heath about 50 yards away. It was not until some 5 hours later when a policeman got me out of bed a 1 a.m. and he showed me the wreck next door, did I realize what a favourite of the Gods I must be. Little left of the kitchen and scullery and the gateway etc. wrecked, but I've lost very little - almost nothing.
So now you see how if you put your faith in God, he will solve all your troubles (all clear just sounding). I can now move because:
1. Landlord dare not fuss about back rent when I've been bombed out.
2. Moving estimate £14!! But Council will pay.
3. I've just got to clear up the mess - which I'm doing.
The house, needles to say, has been condemned. Poor South Hill Park! They are demolishing the 5 houses to my right (and mine when my furniture is gone) + the three opposite. The road is still up for 5o yards - a great mass of clay 10 feet high on one side and on the other a deep trench where the sewer is being repaired. Same sewer trouble at 116. Time I went.
But I shall miss the view and the ponds.
And referring back to the demolition squad, they've hardly had the grace to wait until I'm gone. Already they've dug and looted every bulb and plant in the garden and even pinched the knocker of the door!
One night last week, your bloke and me were standing by the fire in the Gateways. A young fellow in a resplendent uniform - blue - with a great splash of crimson ribbon down the leg - not to mention a few thousand highly polished brass buttons - came in. He regarded Cliff and I with great interest. Finally, he came over and said to me: "One you a Czech?" "Myself", I replied. "I is Czech." He turned to Cliff. "You are!" he said. "My friend. No. He no Czech" I said "He Finn. He talk the cockney like a Finn. It is the way he learn." He looked at me. "Never mind" he said, with a charming smile. "We shall soon get you out of it - now. Another six months. And then you can both go back to your own countries."
"I thank you" I said, and touching the place where I believe my heart beats, I added "From here. Accept if you please, the gratitude of myself and my friend."
"That's all right" said Red Leg. And so it was settled.
No more now. As soon as I'm settled I'll let you know.
Your last letter I can't find. It is at No 90. So I can't answer any questions you asked me!
Love to my Godson. Have you taught him the staves? EGBDF etc. Can he say the Belief:
I believe in Beethoven, Rembrandt, Balzac. Keats and the great gods who were. I believe in Clifford Hall, Marion Hall and Bill Meadmore as the great gods to be…..
My love to you both.
Clifford is well and working hard. He will work harder the day I move.
Ever yours,
Bill
I must write larger, then my letters will be longer.
Around this time the Thompsons moved to Waterditch Farm, Burton, near Christchurch, Hampshire*, taking Marion and Julian with them.
* Being very close to the county border, Christchurch was still, at that time, in part of the historic county of Hampshire.
Letter to Marion
3/4 March, 1941
Monday,
Dearest Mog,
I finished the portrait yesterday* so I am sending you some more money for whatever you need most. He was very pleased with it. It is a good likeness and with a certain penetration, although the edges are not quite all I would wish.
* The portrait of Ivan Hirschler.
I am writing this in a room at the top, sixth floor, of the Irish Independent in Fleet Street. We have to spend two nights a month fire watching in the City. Not our job of course, but the precious government's great plan for voluntary fire watching has simply failed, so far at least. I have just seen Gerald who is working here and he sends you his love and says Dodo is very well in the country. He has finished his book but naturally the war has held up the publication.
Here's some news for you - Leo and Celia got married last week, on Thursday I think, although it seems no one else was there. I have given them a picture from us. They are still at the Arts. The ballet is held up as Leo has gone temperamental and talking about leaving them next week - but it will probably blow over.
I think it is about certain that I will be able to come and see you this month. I am going to Rugby on the 29th and I will try to get back the following day and come straight on to you, and stay at least three days, probably four.
Bill has got a house in Chelsea but I do not know when he will be moving in. I am still very busy because I need five more drawings the show at Legers which has been fixed for the end of April or the beginning of May. I did two good ones last week but I still want five more and I don't know what to do yet unless, horrible as it sounds, we have a few more bombs in Chelsea, and I get a chance to go out. There it is. If I could not make something out of this it would get on my nerves terribly.
I do wish I could have been with you to help you when you moved. And I hope there will be some things that you can leave for me to do when I get down at the end of the month.
I have almost given up thinking about the war because I find that work is so much more interesting.
I am glad you did not mind me turning down that job to lecture on gas. I felt sure though that you would feel I was right. I am very sorry I said what I did when answering your last letter. I know the results are poor as yet but I am always thinking up ways to make money to send to you and I do really feel that I will do well before it is too late. I am very grateful that I have, up till now at my rate, been able to keep a certain amount of my time to myself, and so kept my contacts and even some fresh ones. For any one like myself the army would be like a kind of living death, and I have not avoided the horror or the danger in what I am doing. That would have been wrong and stupid because no good ever comes of turning your back on the period you live in. Look at the academicians. Inevitably I am wasting a certain amount of time but it might have been far far worse. I can't paint often enough. Painting does require time, but my drawing really has improved immensely and it certainly needed improving.
When I come to see you will you try to be with me all the time, just the three of us. However good other people are it's not like being alone together and it is so long since we were. Now there does seem to be a chance - let's take it.
It won't be long before I can see you and only a renewal of heavy attacks on London can stop me, and I do not think we will have those just yet.
I will bring my pochade box and try to make a panel of Julian. I still have quite a few left. They are unobtainable now.
Did the things from Pickfords arrive safely? And is there anything more that you would like me to send? Better let me know soon whilst I have a bit of extra money.
Write soon. I am looking forward so much to seeing you again. Lots of love to you both,
Clifford
Tuesday morning,
Just had your card. Delighted you have got all the things safely.
Had a long night stuck in a tiny railed rooftop, high above Fleet Street. Very dark, pouring with rain, guns going and planes overhead.
Journal Entry
March 4, 1941
I am happy again and working and I must have faith.
Letter to Marion
7 March, 1941
Friday
Dearest Mog,
Glad you got the money and cheque - I sent you some more the other day. Whenever I get some it is best for me to send you a bit quickly. I have a way of just wasting it, apart from paying off odd sums I have to borrow sometimes to keep going.
You must be glad the move is over, or getting over, and I am happy you like the part of the country better. Personally, I never want to see Dorset again - thoroughly unpaintable. You were sick of it too, I know.
I go to Rugby on the 28th , the exhibition opens on the 29th and I am giving a lecture in the evening - fee 1½ guineas , poor, but return fare is only thirteen and six and my friend is putting me up, so I will more than cover my expenses. I want to return to London on the 30th and, if possible, come straight on to you. Or I will arrive on the 31st if I can't make the connection. That will be a Monday, and I am hoping to stay until the Friday. I know it is not long, but otherwise it means waiting weeks and weeks and I don't want to do that.
All sorts of rumours are going around that the reserve age for us is to be raised to 41, but I have quite made up my mind not to be in the army. Both sides are hopelessly wrong and I have had far more dangerous jobs that tens of thousands of soldiers - so far. You cannot lay down rules concerning reality, we all have our own ideas about it. Mine may be peculiar, so-called "unpatriotic", but they are mine, and I have not come by them easily. I have every intention of sticking to them.
I am working well and feel fine, although I still cannot get enough sleep.
I am so glad you are feeling better and I am looking forward very greatly to seeing you again.
Love to you both,
Clifford
PS
Good news about the coach passing so close to Burton. I will let you know what time I will arrive. If there are any other small things you need tell me and I will bring them with me.
I have found the other two silver teaspoons, and what about the cover to the ironing board? Shall I bring that? Or would you prefer me to send it on by post?
You did not tell me what you thought about my show of war drawings at Legers - or maybe I forgot to tell you, although I think I did. We have fixed it up for the beginning of May. I expect you have had such a lot to do. Bill moves into Chelsea next week. He looks very ill and I think the bomb shook him up badly, although he did not seem to show it at the time.
I wonder if Julian will remember me when he sees me again? I suppose he is still too young.
Love,
Clifford
Journal Entry
March 8, 1941
Busy getting pictures ready for the exhibition I have been asked to have in Rugby. Bill came to lunch.
Evening, party at Barbara Hawkin's. Jack and Sid called for me and we walked to Gloucester Road, through the barrage. A lovely moonlight night and a nasty raid going on. A stick of bombs fell quite close enough soon after we arrived and rocked the building.
Walked home about midnight. Glass all over the pavements and roadway at Gloucester Road Station. The night still beautiful and I saw the colours I wanted for Seaton Street. A sky full of subdued light, blue. Stucco houses lighter than the sky - other houses darker, looming, their edges very indistinct, almost lost. The whole effect filmy - that describes it.
In Chelsea Square the barrage balloon hung poised a few feet above the ground, very still, and oddly like a huge elephant's head. The two fins were the ears, the tail was the trunk.
I made a sketch of it before going to bed. 'All clear' had gone as we crossed Fulham road.
Blitz
CLIFFORD HALL'S JOURNAL ~ 1939 - 1942 P16
including letters written to his wife Marion and some other correspondence
Letters to Marion
12 March, 1941
Wednesday,
Dearest Mog,
I got your two letter this morning. Glad to hear the money arrived safely. I will try to make some more soon. There is a chance.
Saturday night was pretty bad here. I was off duty and walking to Gloucester Road when it was on with a couple of other blokes from the depot to what turned out to be a very dull party. It was a heavenly moonlight night, and all the time I was seeing just the colours and atmosphere that I want for my Seaton Street oil. Six came down soon after we got to the party, one very close which rocked the building. It swayed to and fro like being on a channel crossing and the water in a bowl of flowers was upset. An "all clear" went up as I was walking home about a quarter to twelve and the balloon in the square was tethered just above the ground looking amazing in the light of the moon. Seen from the back it resembled a huge elephant's head, the tail making the trunk and the two fins, somewhat deflated, looking like enormous flappy ears. So I made a note of it, went home and sat up 'til 1 am making a wash drawing, whilst it was fresh in my mind. The only way. And so, curiously, I was happy; my nerves have never been better. It isn't danger that matters. There is fate, and I still think it is mine to go on and say something.
I wanted seven more drawings to make up the total of twenty-five for Legers and I have done nine more in the last three weeks, all good I think. One I am quite pleased with shows a man and two girls standing in a bombed street with a huge cloud of black smoke almost filling the sky. I have called it "Where They Lived". Also another - "Pull over the blanket".
You may think it is strange doing such things but I must explore everything that moves me. Otherwise there is no place for me. And I am still the same person, making things begin and end with myself, yet I think perhaps, in a way, not quite so selfish as I was, except where work is concerned.
I am looking forward to seeing you very much and I will love you very wonderfully.
Give Julian a kiss from me,
Clifford
17 March, 1941
Dearest,
I got your letter this morning. I am very worried that the place seems to be turning out so badly. I cannot think why Peter did not make fuller enquiries before going there. Anyway, I will be with you next week and we can have a talk about things.
How far is the farm from the coach stop in Burton? I could, with luck, arrive on the Sunday evening - March 39th. I can get from Rugby to Victoria in the afternoon - arrive 5.54, and a coach leaves for Bournemouth at 6. It all depends on if they keep to their timetable. I feel like trying it. If I miss the connection I will arrive on Monday, the 31st. If I do make it on the Sunday do not try to meet me if there is a raid on. Write plainly which road to take and I will find my way.
I do hope the bombs you had will not be repeated. If it goes on you will have to find somewhere else to go.
Lots of love to you both. Looking forward to seeing you soon.
If there is the slightest chance of getting a good bed - grab it.
Clifford
22 March, 1941
Dearest Mog,
I got your letter. It certainly seems best to stay with Pearl for the present.
However, you may get another bomb and I should try to make the cottage habitable. After all you could always run across to the farm house when the warning went. Anyway, we can talk about that when I see you. I have gone into the travelling arrangements and I find they cannot guarantee the coaches running to time and I might not make the connection. I will come on to you on Monday week and will let you know the time I arrive in Burton or Christchurch, next time I write. I think it will be about 2.30, but I will find out for certain.
Things have been rather worse here but I will not let them make any difference to me. It simply is not worth it.
I have done several more drawings these last two weeks and I think I will have thirty for the Leger show, which will make it look a lot better. Twenty-five would really have been hardly enough.
Bill has got fairly well settled now. I help him a bit and put up some bookshelves. It would be a good idea if I put up some for myself, only there is hardly any room.
I will bring you some books when I come, and the ironing board cover, and do you want the other two silver tea spoons? I have found them. An what about bringing a couple of pictures? Tell me next time you write.
Lots of love and I am looking forward to seeing you and Julian again - very much.
Clifford
24 March, 1941
Monday
Dearest Mog,
Will you meet me in Purewell next Monday? The coach will stop there, I suppose round about 1.30; it is due in Christchurch at 1.31. Lots of love to you both.
See you next Monday,
Clifford
26/27 March, 1941
Wednesday,
My dearest Mog,
I had your letter this morning.
I will get off at Purewell Cross. As the coach is due at Bournemouth at 1.31 I should be at the other place a little before 1, I imagine.
I went to Leger today and found he had just sold my sketch of the bombing of Seaton Street to the High Commission of Canada - fifteen guineas - so I will have some money for you soon. Also went on to the National Gallery and saw my two drawings there which have been very well mounted and framed and I liked them.
I am so glad things have been quiet for you recently. I was very worried about it all and that things should have turned out so badly. Do not think me unsympathetic, I am not, but there is only one thing for me to do, and that is to work hard, keep everything going so that when the War is over I will really be on the way to doing something for you and you will soon forget all the misery and discomfort you have had and are having.
Until Monday all love to you both.
Clifford
Journal Entry
March 30, 1941
Rugby. Arrived 4.30, by motor coach last Friday, the 28th. Fred Roots met me. Gallery about 6. Pictures shockingly hung. Phoned Reynolds, the Curator, and later had a drink with him. Told him I must rehang my pictures. He was very nice about it. He, Fred and myself were at it all Saturday morning and got done an hour before the show was due to open.
Opened 2.30 and my lecture followed. Can't remember what I talked about, but it was well received and by a most attentive audience.
Evening: Art Society's studio. Criticism provided by me and beer provided by the Society. Some oil paintings by a girl, Marie Chant, were particularly good. Real talent. Everyone very charming. Back to Chelsea this afternoon.
'Where They Lived', 1941, by Clifford Hall.
'But the damage was slight and the number of casualties very small', 1941, by Clifford Hall. Imperial War Museum, London, Art Collection.
Clifford Hall Rugby Exhibition catalogue pages 1 & 2.