including letters written to his wife Marion and some other correspondence
Letter to Marion
3 February, 1941
Dearest Mog,
I was glad to get your letter, but worried to hear that you are not well. You must let things go a bit and get better. I only sent the 2/6 because I guessed you would be hard up having to pay for the gloves. Anyway, I will be able to send you £2 soon.
My visit to the National Gallery had results not so good as I hoped but still I am very pleased. I had a letter from the Ministry of Information, yesterday, to say that they would buy two of my drawings for 2½guineas each. I suppose they will be included in the war show at the gallery. One you saw, of the men digging, a man on either side of the crater looking on, and two dead ‘uns in the foreground.
The other is one I did more recently, of three homeless people looking at the ruins of the street in which they lived. A very good one. Stark, not sentimental. I know you will be glad about this. The money is poor but it is another step in the direction I have always aimed at, and so it has cheered me up.
Also, it seems as if trois ballet is going to be produced and I am seeing him about it this week. He says he is now satisfied and if the directors don’t like it he will walk out. Just like a dancer, but the method often pays. I have begun to prove it myself. So I may have to do some more work on the designs.
In the meantime the war goes on but as I told you I have lost interest in it. Other things are so much more exciting. Also we hope to do a review in the depot in March, and that will mean a lot more work. So much better than doing nothing.
Do look after yourself. I hope I will get the money quickly. You must get yourself what you need.
All my love to you and Julian.
Clifford
Journal Entry
February 4, 1941
A letter on Saturday from the Ministry of Information. They will buy two of my drawings for five guineas the two. Not much of a price, but I am pleased about it all the same. And they did choose two of the best.
Started a portrait of Ivan Hirschler last Sunday. Nervous about it. Had not painted a head since last August, however, it commenced well.
Made two pen and wash sketches today. Recent depression due to before and after effects of influenza and not enough work, that is, painting.
Intensely interested in everything again.
Rugby, show fixed satisfactorily on the 29th March. They doubled their last offer.
I made up my mind to have nothing to do with Ala Story’s offer. I would have had to do all the paying and take all the risk whilst she stands to lose nothing.
Portrait of Ivan Hirschler by Clifford Hall (1941)
Letters to Marion
4 February, 1941
Dearest,
Here are many happy returns of next Saturday for you. Will you get something for yourself with this and don’t spend it on anything else, because as I told you in my last letter, I will be sending you a couple of pounds soon which will help you with P J’s bill.
I made a start on the portrait last Sunday. A good start. I was surprised that I had not got more out of practice.
I hope you are feeling better. You must take care of yourself. There is no news at the moment and things have been reasonably quiet in Chelsea. It si still blasted cold but I have got a little coal. Any sort of fuel is terribly difficult to get. Seems just as bad as it was last winter.
I wish I could be with you again but I never doubt that we will get everything as we want it eventually.
With lots of love,
Clifford
9 February, 1941
Dearest Mog,
I had your letter yesterday and am very glad that the move is fixed, because I know you wanted it. I will sort out all the things you want and get them packed up.
There is no caretaker in the building and I do not like the idea of leaving anything portable, like the rugs of bundles of linen in No 9 with the door unlocked. You must ask Peter to tell them that they must call on either February 24th, 26th or 28th. I will stay in all those days. It’s the only way to do it. I will send you two of the rugs but I must keep one because I do have people come sometimes who might buy pictures and I don’t want the place to look too bare. The building itself is in an utterly appalling state as it is, but I fear nothing will be done about that.
Whilst things remain quiet I am going back to sleep at the studio, It is completely impossible to get any proper rest at Putney and I have a terrible lot to do. The portrait, all the pictures to get ready for Rugby and some for America too. Leo is clamouring for the designs for his ballet and on top of it all there is the wretched review here with four backcloths, a transformation scene and God knows what. I tried hard to get out of doing it but there is no one else, and anyway it is better than mooching about wasting my time on duty. Also, I stipulated that this time I must get paid something for my work, if only it is a couple of guineas. Charity begins at home.
Mrs Smith has disappeared and I can’t find time to go and look for her but I sweep up the place myself. Try to let me know when they will be calling for the spinet and other things. It would help. I do hope you are feeling better. It will be lovely coming to see you when we can really be alone together. I wish I could come now. I would give a lot for a real rest.
I have got the sheets, pillow slips, table cloths, curtains and eiderdown ready. – ALL CLEAN! And I will get the knives, forks and spoons ready now. And won’t forget the ironing board.
All my love to you and Julian,
Clifford
11 February, 1941
Chelsea – Tuesday
Dearest Mog,
Could you draw, roughly, something like the scribble overleaf. Hair, side parting, ends fairly long and turned under.
Innocent expression.
I want it for one of the ballet designs. I have done the other but have got stuck with this. Let me have it soon if possible.
Hope you are feeling better. Have got all the stuff packed ready for when the van calls.
All my love,
Clifford
The scribble overleaf
14 February, 1941
Friday
Dearest Mog,
Thanks so much for your letter with the sketch. It will be very helpful. I simply cannot realize that pretty type. I have managed the others fairly well.
I have got everything ready for Pickfords. I will be here on the 26th and 28th and I have made arrangements with Mrs Hart that she will give them the key of the studio, where everything will be ready labelled for them if they come on the 27th. I will put a note on the door for Pickfords telling them where they can get the key and asking them to return it to the estate office. Peter might write and tell them this too. I really do not like taking the risk of leaving the stuff in No.9 with the door open because there often people snooping around. I also want to save the expense of sending by the railway. It is a blasted lot of trouble not having a caretaker here now, but I think nothing can go wrong with the arrangement I have suggested.
I am very much happier now that I am back at the studio, and I have been sleeping properly. I got that I could not go to Putney night after night. I felt as if I was always on the run, hunted, and it got really impossible to work without the right atmosphere. I expect I will have to go back there when things get bad again but at the moment why not take advantage of the lull? I will try to come and see you as soon as ever it is possible. I will try to take only one day off for the Rugby trip in March and then I may be able to wrangle five days sooner than they are really due to me. It won’t be easy but I will do my best.
They really should let me have them for all the all the work I will be doing for this review. Four backcloths, 18ft by 14ft to paint singlehanded and I have to make the designs first. It is a valuable experience and at least gets me away from the appalling grind of billiards, ping pong, cups of stewed tea and futile arguments about absolutely nothing at all. It was more exciting when the Blitz was going strong – but then I hated that because of all the horror and unhappiness it caused. What a mess! The world is crazy, and only the artists are sane.
I hope Leo’s ballet is produced. He has stuck at it wonderfully; I saw a bit of it last week and there is no doubt that it will be extremely good. But in these wretched times anything may happen to prevent it coming off.
I saw Stanley and Harry on Wednesday last. Bill I saw too, he has had influenza pretty badly but is getting over it now.
I have not yet got me cheque for the drawings but as soon as I do, I will send you some of it.
When I packed up the knives, forks and spoons I left out two of the silver tea spoons. Could not find them at the time. If you need them, I will post them on later. There are four in the bundle.
I do hope you will like the new plan and I hope I will be able to see you there before too long.
All my love to you both,
Clifford
20 February, 1941?*
*This letter was misfiled in an envelope dated 11th April ’41 but it was clearly written earlier during February the same year. 20th February seems to be the most likely date of the letter, judging by its contents. Editor
Thursday,
My dearest Mog,
I had both your letters, one this morning and one yesterday.
I should have written before only I have had lots to do; Leger wanted the show at the end of this month and I had to persuade him to put it off until the second week in March. There will be such a lot to do when the frames come back from Rugby. All the war drawings to be mounted, fitted in, taken to the M.O.I.* and photographed**, and lots more.
The M.O.I. (MOI) was the Ministry of Information
**If the Ministry Of Information did indeed photograph all of Clifford’s war drawings, it appears that they did not give him copies of most of the photos, sadly. Editor
I am glad you are going to East Meon and will send the extra pound when I write to you again tomorrow. I am sure it will be better for you there. I will be able to send you money for P.J.’s bill about the end of this month. Of course you are very silly and quite wrong because I was happy to see you and enjoyed our day in Bournemouth particularly – even having to see dismal Freddie didn’t dampen me – and that says a lot. And I am looking forward to coming to see you at East Meon at the end of May.
You are very sweet to write such things about my picture. I hope it does have all you say in it – or even some of it. Certainly, since the black out the river at night does move me very deeply. Maybe I did get something of it.
I hope your cold has gone and Julian’s too. He is very lovable and I have fallen for him completely and I will be very relieved for you and him to be away from that terrible attitude towards bringing up children enforced by Peter. Julian is too intelligent for that sort of thing and you must never allow it please.
Have started the pastel and don’t like the medium for such work, also thinking of the scenery and making different versions of the Sloane Square incident, now have three, the last is the best, but I have not done with it yet.
I am sorry that I had to miss seeing Fred. I wish he would let me send him a picture. I should hate trying to paint Sylvia. I could get no reaction at all and that’s hell.
I hope you are using the pound dismal Fred gave you towards money next week. I will pay it back to you at the end of the month. Try to have as little trouble as possible.
Lots of love to you both,
Clifford
Thank you for the handkerchief and postcard.
PS Try to get a room in E. Meon. Hope there are no more bombs. Fairly quiet here. One or two bad nights.
21 February, 1941
Chelsea – Friday
Dearest Mog,
I got your letter yesterday. I will try to get the morning off on the 27th. If not, I will take a chance and leave everything clearly labelled in No.9, of which the door will be open. This is the trial arrangement.
I am working pretty hard and wish I could have a real rest – but sleeping better because I get so tired. The work is going well but I hate the risk. It is unavoidable though.
I was sent for to the town hall this week. They wanted me to go to Gloucester on a gas course, all expenses paid. The idea was that I was to be pushed into the job of Gas Officer for the Depot and later for the Borough. I refused. No interest in the beastly subject. Of course, it was a big chance, in a way, but goodbye to everything that matters to me. And what good would I be when the war was over? It would have been a full-time job. Lecturing most of the time. I will not be changed into another sort of person like that. I hope you agree.
Don’t worry about your money. Only I still have no cheque for my drawings. Suppose it is bound to come soon. I can only get one sitting a week for the portrait, so it will literally take a month of Sundays.
Leo was very pleased with the final designs and they are rehearsing hard. As for scenery, it is amusing to do but after nine hours of it yesterday I felt nearly dead. Can’t be as strong as I used to be.
I hope you are well – you never say – wish you would. I think of you both.
All my love,
Clifford
PS The house next to Bill’s was hit on Monday. He is all right and only the kitchen was wrecked. He spent Tuesday night here and is coming again until he can find a place to go.
24 February, 1941
Monday
Dearest Mog,
I had your letter this morning – I am sure you must be busy and I am looking forward to getting your things off when Pickfords come this week. The cover to the ironing board I must post you separately. I left it out of the bundle and it is far too complicated to undo now.
You saying that you often wondered if I wanted you to be comfortable seem rather a nasty crack – although I suppose I may seem like that. I have been hoping for the last week to be able to send you some money for the extra things I know you will need. But the cheque for my drawings has not come yet. As for yours please don’t worry about it. I can always manage, and I will send you the £2 each week however late your cheque may be. I would have finished the portrait by now if I didn’t have to tear myself in half to try to do more work in three days than I used to do in a week. I will be done in two more sittings, but that means two weeks. And he at least will not keep me waiting. This time I have insisted on some payment for the scene painting although I only expect a nominal sum. I have been working 9 to 10 hours a day on it.
Leger wants me to have a show with him of my war drawings and is very keen on it and will provide the frames. Only I must do some more. There are not enough yet. The censor passed them all but one, Sloane Square Station; which he said, officially, had not been hit!
Often and often I wish you were here. The only thing for me is work and more work. Because then I become completely absorbed in it; ideas come so much easier than they used to and I am happy.
I want to make money for you and Julian but I will make it honestly and not with bad work, and one day I will surprise you by making it. I am quite convinced of this, and my convictions always have a way of coming to pass in the end.
I am only taking one day off to go to Rugby on the 29th March and am hoping to arrange to give a lecture there if they will pay enough. This means that I should not have to wait so long before I can come and see you in the cottage. I seriously think, about April, of seeing Castello and getting him to say I need a rest badly and then ask for a week.
All my love,
Clifford
Journal Entry
February 28, 1941
Only those we love have the power to hurt us.*
*Celia Franca married Leo Kersley on 27th February 1941. Clifford may possibly have been thinking about this and his recent infidelity when he wrote these words. Editor
Letter to Marion
28 February, 1941
Dearest,
I had both your letter this morning – with your cheque. I do wish you would not worry yourself about it being late. I will not let you down. I got nine for the two drawings which will be in the National Gallery, and I am sending you two pounds to help with the move. I will also be paid for the portrait about the middle of the month so I will them be able to send you some more.
I could not get away yesterday although I tried. We have a number of men away ill: however. Pickfords must have called for everything had gone from No. 9. Let me know as soon as it arrives, and also if there is anything else you would like me to send.
I am working well. Did a 18 x 14 foot backcloth this week in two and a half days. My assistant is ill, but it did not make much difference. Also a good one for the Leger show. I do hope you will have less to do when you finally settle down in the cottage. I will try for that weeks leave and write about, when the time comes, and get it somehow.
I am sure Julian must be very interesting now and I am sorry I am missing it all. It looks as if he is going to be very intelligent and he will probably be catching me out before long.
Have you had time to read the ‘Martyrdom of Man’?* I have got ‘ San Michele ‘ when you are ready for it. Also Samuel. But less note books. Really fine.
* A book by William Winwood Reade Editor
Write again soon. All my love to you and a kiss for Julian,
Clifford
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.