Sarah Elizabeth (for some reason, always known as ‘Trot’ – perhaps she ‘trotted’ around?) was born in Scotland, the second daughter of John Smith II and the first of his second wife, Philadelphia Wright; her elder, half-sister Della, was five years old at the time.
Delphia went on to have two more daughters, Lucy (1861) and Alice (1863) but, sadly, neither survived for more than a few days and Delphia, herself, died only a few days after Alice’s death, leaving John Smith II a widow for the second time and with two small, motherless daughters.
Before she died, Delphia dictated her last wishes (see John Smith II) one of which was that Della and Trot should be brought up as sisters and never parted, save for when Della went to visit her grandmother Collins in Birmingham!
By this time living in south London, John Smith married, for the third time, Mary Anne Fowle, who raised Della and Trot as her own, along with their own two children, Grace Marian (1870) and Edith Adeline (1872).
By this time John Smith and the family were involved in the Methodist church and, in 1880, Trot became engaged to the Reverend Terry Coppin, a Methodist missionary. While there is no mention of the engagement being broken off, Trot married, in 1883, Edwin Arthur Cade, eighth and last child of Robert Cade of Ipswich.
They had five children: Ethel Della (1884-1968), Gladys Mary (1886-1937), Arthur Gordon (1893-1918, known as Jim), Cecil Ewart (1899-1967, known as Bobbie) and Theo Daphne (1903-1991), born three weeks after the death of her husband in Obuassi.
Trot died in 1931.
Letter Extracts
 Trot letter Nov 10  Trot letter Nov 11  Trot letter Nov 30
|
Letters To And From Her Daughters
The GREEN
Southgate
May 7th 1899
My dearest Mother
Yesterday, my bicycle came home and it does look fine. It has all be enamelled and done up beautifully and all the afternoon we were riding around the tennis lawn. I was on mine, Mary on yours and Father on his. Father has not been to business since last Tuesday.
On Wednesday afternoon, he gave us a half holiday. On Saturday morning, he had a very hot bath and I put some fir tree oil in it and it made his cold much better, for he said so himself.
I am going to have my plate put in on Friday. We had a lovely box of sweets sent us on Wednesday afternoon from Plymouth, but we do not know who sent it.
This morning, Father asked me if I had got a photo of you in my desk rolled up and as I did not know, he came with me while I looked but it was not there, but there was a silver watch, and he gave it to me. It is a great, big, man’s watch. I do wish you could come home tonight, it does seem such an age since you were at home.
The lilac will very soon be out now. We have got up at either 6 or 6.30 every morning now for ever so long and gone out in the garden. I do wish you would come home to baby because, you know, he has something the matter with his head! And then, on Saturday, Nurse said that there was something the matter with his back and Mary says he is weak altogether (which means he must lie down and they cannot nurse him – nothing else) but nobody will say what is really the matter with him and we have not seen him have his bath for nearly a fortnight. I believe there must be something very much the matter with him, poor little soul.
Every night, when I go to bed, I can’t help thinking whatever can be the matter with him and I do wish somebody would tell me, really and truly, because I do imagine such dreadful things and then I dream he has got all sorts of things the matter with him.
Father wants you home very badly, but he and Mr and Mrs Childe and Mr Hill think you ought to get your face quite well first. but I do want you home.
Don’t forget it is my turn to get a letter
From your loving ‘fille’
Ethel
PS I send my love to dear little May
THE GREEN
Southgate
September 20th
My darling girls
I have just got home from Carshalton with Father. We have had a very sad day, leaving dear Grandma’s body in the grave – but we know she herself was not there – but is far better off even than she was in her home.
Do you know when she died there was still one of those lilies which we took her – quite fresh – and Auntie Adeline put it in her hand and it is still there. There were such beautiful flowers. Uncle Charles and Aunt Miriam and Lizzie and Janey sent a lovely harp of white flowers that was at the head of the coffin.
Then there was a lovely cross from Grandpa and Aunties – then your cross – across the foot, then Father’s and my wreath of white chrysanthemums hanging at the end – and down each side such a number from friends.
Now, dears, you must not cry over it – she is quite happy.
Do you know your letters this morning gave me temporary blindness – do you guess why? You must cheer up, you know, try and see a funny side of everything. ‘It is better far to laugh than cry’.
We are all coming on Monday and Grandpa is bringing his carriage – you may be sure we shall soon come and see you. Perhaps I shall have some surprising news for you – I am not sure.
Isn’t it kind of Mr White – he has got your coats and skirts done already – they are here now – and I shall bring them. It is too bad of the Matron to take your sweets – but I suppose she will give you them back sometime. She isn’t likely to eat them, she would be too sick.
Mrs Daw sends her love to you, so do Grandpa and Aunties. They all said it would have been quite too bad not to let you sleep together. I do hope you will keep the rules and not get separated.
Now, both remember and tell me everything because you don’t know how to spell them. Of course, I’d rather have the spelling right but if it isn’t I shall know what you mean.
Father does not quite like the idea of sending your bicycles just for one ride a week – because I’m sure they wouldn’t get cleaned properly. So if you very much want to go with the others, you had better hire.
Lots and lots of love from us all and kisses, too. I wish I could just give you some from all of us
Your loving
Mother
All the animals are well at present. Cap sends love
Sackville Hotel
Bexhill on Sea
September 27th 1901
My dear Gladys
Father has sent Merrylegs down and I thought you might like to go for a ride tomorrow afternoon with Jim, the rest of us in the carriage.
If you would, then pack your habits and caps in a card box and I will send for them tomorrow morning.
Jim goes with a Miss Attwood, a riding mistress, and she will look after you.
I’ve not heard from Father, so do not know whether he is coming tomorrow.
Much love,
From
Mother
Sackville Hotel
Bexhill on Sea
October 4th 1901
My darling Girls
I am obliged to go back today – I am so sorry to disappoint you but I have left tickets with the Aunties and my birthday presents to you both. Accept them with very much love.
Your birthday cake will arrive on Saturday and you can take it to school with you.
Father says he ‘has been left to his own resources’ all this dreadful summer and is now without children, home, wife or anyone to care what becomes of him here or hereafter! You know whether this is true – but of course I must go.
The Southgate house is dismantled, things are to be stored but where we are going I don’t know. Auntie will call for you tomorrow – and try and be happy to please
Your loving
Mother
The GREEN
Southgate
October 8th 1901
My darling Gladys
Very many thanks for your and Ethel’s nice long letters. I am very glad to hear you had a nice cake, it certainly is a nice one – and that you enjoyed the concert.
Thanks, too, for the photos – aren’t they nice, children? Countess looks beautiful, and goes very fast, I hear, though I’ve not been out with her.
I have to rush away now to look at houses – furnished – won’t it be queer?
Baby is at Mrs Parker’s. Nurse has been horrid to Collins – I don’t think I can keep her much longer.
Will write tonight and tell you more
Very much love
From
Mother.
The GREEN
Southgate
October 8th 1901
My darling Ethel
You must understand that my letters are to both of you.
I have been looking at furnished houses nearly all day – and it seems a toss-up between 10 Chester Terrace and 23 Russell Square. The former has a most beautiful look out over Regent’s Park and is comfortably furnished, within 10 minutes of the zoo and botanical gardens – and one could ride a bicycle and drive all about the park. The other is splendidly furnished, has electric light and is within 10 minutes of Father’s office – and I think he will decide on that.
The house here is queer; in the dining room there is only the table and chiffonier; in the hall, the stand. In the morning room – the settee, 2 arm chairs, tea table, piano and pianola but, as the carpets are down, it isn’t so bad.
The spare room is quite empty and ours has the bed, sofa and ottoman. Father is sleeping in town tonight, as he is so busy, so it is quiet – no Jim and no baby – he and Nurse are at Auntie Parker’s.
The new horse is black and very nice-looking. Woodcock thinks he can be ridden. Countess goes beautifully in Mr Eaton’s trap – is nice and fast. Joseph was here when I arrived and only left this morning.
I have sent dear old Bobs to the William’s at Sutton – we could not possibly keep him and they wanted a dog, and were delighted to have him. The kitten is a dear, clean little thing. Your birds are all right and jolly. When Maple’s vans pulled up yesterday outside here, I expect the Burrows pricked up their ears and opened their eyes. It is something for the village to talk about.
The Armstrongs came in last night and Father read out some of your letters, so he got your message. Their baby is better and goes out now. I did not go to church on Sunday, so did not see Kate, or anyone.
Thank you for the photo, – shouldn’t you like to play like those children? Stick to your practising so that you may get on well.
I can’t tell you how pleased I was to hear such a good report of you both from Miss Browning. I am sure she is very nice and you would like her if you had not made up your minds not to.
I’ve sent two shawls – but they are rather large and I thought I had better put a few sweets in – I daresay you will have them on Saturday. I got them at Fuller’s this afternoon.
We have some lovely things for the pianola now – Sonata Pathetique, Taratelle de Bravura by Liszt, Piccaninnies (yours); The boy guessed right the very first time; several of Mendelsohn’s songs without words and some of Wagner’s.
Perhaps you may see Father soon.
Lots of love to you both
from
Mother.
The GREEN
Southgate
October 19th 1901
My dearest Ethel
I send the box to you because I wrote to Gladys yesterday – but four of the collars are for her. I think I gave you some before you left, so I only send you two, but if you already have enough, let Gladys have them all.
The drawings and letter arrived after mine was posted. Thank you both very much, I think they are really nicely done – especially the beans and chestnut – and I feel sure Father will think so, too.
I was in bed all yesterday and, in the evening, Dr Armstrong called so Auntie Parker must needs bring him up and he said I was to stay there till he had been today because my temperature was up – so I did. But I’m up now. He is very kind, isn’t he? I shall be most awfully sorry to go away from them both.
Father and I are going to dinner at the Feiling’s next Tuesday. The new horse looks very nice indeed and doesn’t mind trains or motors or rollers.
Auntie Parker is here packing things – she is most kind – has been here nearly every day.
My love and thanks to Gladys for her letter. I could not give her message to Mr and Mrs Young as I did not go there last night – but I gave it to Dr Armstrong and he sent his love to you both and hopes you are getting to like it by now.
Ronald Childe has chickenpox. They have got a double-fronted house down the road, just before you reach the crescent.
Lots of love to you both
from
Mother.
The GREEN
Southgate
October 24th 1901
My dearest Ethel
You will have received a bottle of medicine from Dr Armstrong, I expect – if you are all right, keep it in case you want it any other time – though it will only do you good. I will get Gladys’ paper as soon as I can go to town.
I can’t say the house is especially quiet and tidy, in fact there isn’t one tidy room – if the house were all right, I should miss you both dreadfully – as it is, I haven’t any home now and should be glad to know when we are likely to get one. This is most miserable, all my things packed – nowhere to put anything and, when I want to put on a clean garment or a different dress – have to unpack a box and then pack it up again.
I was expecting Father last night, and had such a nice little dinner – fish and pheasant – meringues, etc and just at 7.30 he sent a wire ‘staying in town’.
Baby climbed onto the study table when I had left him with Jim and gone upstairs this morning and he fell off onto his face – such an awful bang – in my room, I thought it was a chair till he screamed. He has such a bruise on his forehead and his nose is swollen and cut a little – it bled rather a lot. I was frightened, but he seems all right now.
It was very jolly at the Feilings. Elise was away – May Ricketts was there – very fat ,and very cow neck – Florence looked very nice. I never heard a family cow each other so – they seemed to be quarrelling all the time and calling each other every name they could think of – but it didn’t mean anything. Father did not like them much. Two footmen waited – and the silver was lovely – and the flowers.
I’m afraid I’ve not answered all your questions – but can’t think of them. Miss Amy had better get your hockey sticks.
Heaps of love to you both
From
Mother.
The GREEN
Southgate
October 27th 1901
My darling Gladys
I expect we shall have letters from you in the morning and then I shall have some questions to answer, so I will write again.
I am going to see Jim’s school tomorrow at Bengeo, near Hertford.
Father has been ever working and is going to Bournemouth on Tuesday for a week and I am to go, too. I don’t like leaving dear old Jim and little Bobs but I suppose I must. Bobs fell off the table on Thursday, such a bang on his head, he was so sick and has a scar under his nose, but is all right again.
Father has ordered a Ralli car for Countess. I don’t know at all where we are going to live yet.
I have given Kate one of Ethel’s photos, and Mrs Childe, too.
Nina Sawyer came up yesterday and sent her love.
Certainly wear your red blouses if you like – they will be too small if you save them.
Heaps of love, dears – I do miss you so – you didn’t say when the half term holiday is.
Your loving
Mother
The GREEN
Southgate
October 29th 1901
My dearest Ethel
I hope you won’t be very disappointed to hear that we are going to Bournemouth today for a week. Dr Armstrong said Father ought to go – and he wants me to go, too. Mrs Parker is coming to stay with Jim and Baby.
I should awfully like to see you both – but as I cannot come, I am going to ask Uncle Parker to come down and spend Friday with you if that is the half term holiday. If it is not on that day, send word to Auntie here at once. If it is on Friday, never mind. So think what you would like to do on that day and, if there is anything on in the afternoon, tell him of it.
I am sending you some orchids out of the greenhouse. Aren’t they lovely. I will send you two more merino bodices.
One of your little birds – Jack I expect – sings so prettily and jumps up and down while he sings.
I have asked Mr Bolton to send you some more of your inhaler. I hope you use it very hot and do it thoroughly.
I am sorry to hear you are not very well – keep on with Dr Armstrong’s pills.
Your letter to Father made me very sad – I can’t bear to think of you being homesick – do try not to be. This isn’t a bit like it was – so you wouldn’t like it much if you saw it.
The Pams are at the Burlington and Mr & Mrs Daw are going in a day or two. It was very interesting to meet with a friend of Jack Kirk.
Tommy Lipton is coming home on Thursday and they are going to decorate the village, take out the horses and pull the carriage from Greens, the Bakers, up the village and have illuminations at night.
Dr Armstrong said he would write to you – he always asked after you both. He is a good sort, isn’t he?
I went to see Jim’s school yesterday – at Bengeo at Hertford. It is a nice place – Mr & Mrs Bowden Smith are delightful – he will enjoy himself there. Try and be jolly and happy like dear girls. I shall be awfully glad when you come home.
Always your loving
Mother.
Hotel Burlington
Boscombe
Bournemouth
October 31st 1901
My darling girls
I have sent you some cakes from ‘The Bungalow’ to have on Friday at the Sackville – they are in charge of Mr Wolff, so ask for them and enjoy them – but do not make yourselves sick. I should not eat all on Friday, but take some back with you.
Tiddy and Gretel send their love. Tiddy has been having influenza.
Mr and Mrs Feiling arrived here last night – it was a mutual surprise. It is very windy and cold here and there are no interesting people staying here now – no pretty girls.
How strange that you should see Mr Willis.
Mr and Mrs Daw are coming down soon, I believe – I don’t know how long Father will stay.
Uncle is bringing the warm bodices and the thick coat. I don’t know who is to have it, but someone ought to wear it to save the best as they were expensive.
Lots of love, darlings
From
Mother
Hotel Burlington
Boscombe
Bournemouth
November 1st 1901
My darling Gladys
I quite forgot to tell you in my two last letters of the very sad news which was wired to Father last Tuesday morning.
Mr Starley died, very suddenly, on Monday night under an operation which had to be performed in a great hurry. I can’t explain to you what it was – but he was only ill a few hours. Isn’t it dreadfully sad for poor Flo and, Gertie at school.
How little we thought, at Bryn Eithyn, that within two months he would be taken.
I hope you are enjoying your day with Uncle and Jim.
Tell Ethel to keep on with the pills and inhaler.
Very much love to your both
From
Mother
Hotel Burlington
Boscombe
Bournemouth
November 4th 1901
My darling Ethel
I have just come in from Bournemouth – where I bought you both some sweets, but I did not send any chewing gum – for it really isn’t nice for you.
I feel very anxious about your cold and cough, dear – I can’t leave off thinking about it and am going to write to Dr Wills about you. I wish you to speak to Miss Browning about the draught onto your bed – it won’t do at all. I suggest that you sleep in Gladys’ bed both together – it would be warmer.
Of course, you are wearing your combinations? You have the fur collars now, haven’t you?
Poor dear Gladys, how terrified she must have been – and you, too, I am sure. I hope the bruises don’t hurt her now. She might have been terribly injured. I am glad she got on again and rode home. Who was with you? Did not any passer-by come to help? Tell me all about it next time you write.
I do really think you ought to take Scott’s Emulsion. I could send it down. Your health is most important. Fancy if you grew like Auntie Adeline.
Mr Pam and Gretel have gone home today. She came with them because she has grown so immensely, and isn’t strong – she is taller than she was at Colwyn. It is a pity she is so plain, I believe she is a nice child but her learning is too much for me – she talks like a professor – about ‘geometrical progressions’ and ‘logarithms’ etc. I think it awful.
Darling Gladys – try not to dislike it so much. What has happened? I thought you were getting to like the girls and to think it was not so very bad. My dears, even if you left there, the fact is that we really haven’t a home. Except that, wherever we are together, is a sort of home.
The Green looks awful – nothing in the dining room but bicycles and table – nothing in your room, and just a bed in Nurse’s. I don’t know at all where we are going finally. You see, when Father sent the things away, he thought he was going to Ashanti this month – now he is not going so soon. So, wherever we do go, we shall have to stay nine or ten months – that would be very expensive at a hotel.
Don’t imagine your letters could be too long. You don’t know how glad I am to get them. I was ever so disappointed this morning, for I expected to get them by the first post, like I do at Southgate – but there was not one for me. They came in about 12 o’clock. I always have my breakfast alone here, for the Pams come down about 9.30 or 9.45 and Father about the same time.
Sometimes I’ve had my breakfast and written half a dozen letters before I see them. I don’t know how long Father means to stay. I am supposed to lunch with Mrs Burn on Wednesday. I am so glad Dr Armstrong wrote to you, it was very kind of him. Tommy Lipton came back on Thursday and there were fine goings on in the village. I expect Jim told you all about it.
The pretty lady here is a Jewess, a Mrs Holt. She does have such lovely garments. I’ve not worn my coat yet. I wonder if Father will stick to what he said. It would be awkward if he does – as I shall be jolly cold. I bought two cotton ties for you both the other day – to wear riding – you put them on like those wired or corded ones and make a sort of sailor knot if front. I’ll send them soon.
It is getting towards dressing time, so I must stop. Do you properly use the inhaling stuff? I think you had better stop that morning bath. Tell Miss Browning you have never been used to it at home and can’t stand it. Do you take the pills? I feel awfully worried about you both. Do take care of yourselves.
Lots and lots of love, my darlings,
From
Mother
Hotel Burlington
Boscombe
Bournemouth
My dear girls
Just one line, with my love.
I’m so glad you had a good time on Friday.
Sorry Gladys got a fall. Trust most sincerely that she is all right.
Am better, but not quite well.
All my love, dears
Yours affectionately
Father
Hotel Burlington
Boscombe
Bournemouth
November 6th 1901
My darling Gladys
How are you both getting on? I hope your bruises are gone and that Ethel’s cold is better. Have you told Miss Browning about the draught and leaving off the bath? As soon as I get home, I am going to send you a rug each – which you can put on your beds. At Jim’s school, each boy has to have a rug and he is most particular always to have his own rug on – even in the hot weather. Mr Bowden Smith says he has known some of them to turn off the blankets and counterpanes but still stick to their own rugs.
I wonder if you have had any fogs – in London they have been awful for days – no end of accidents and trains stopped.
Father is very unwell, not actually ill – but constant headaches. He doesn’t talk of going home. I don’t know how Auntie Parker can manage to stay on at the Green, I’m afraid it is inconvenient.
You know there is a craze about smallpox – well, there have just been two cases sent away from The Bourne – Southgate – you know where that is. Where the pub called ‘The Woodman’ is – beyond Mr Miles.
Did I tell you Shoolbreds have sent me a bill for over £50 for the things I had to get for you two. Everything is for you, except my golf cape £2.17. Isn’t it perfectly awful? I’m sure I don’t know how I am going to pay it – unless out of my own account. And now I really ought to get you a frock each. Ethel had better send her white silk blouse, by post, in a little box to Auntie at home – with a note inside asking her to send it to Mr White’s and ask him to let me have it as soon as he can – that is, if it is really dirty. They did my black cloth skirt (Bobs was awfully sick all over it) between ten in the morning and four in the afternoon.
Do you know Kate’s brother has gone to Australia? I’ve seen nothing of the Rosses for a long time – but Winnie is better. The others have not gone to school yet. Gretel and Mr Pam had an awful time getting home on Monday – the train was over two hours late.
There is a very healthy-looking girl here for hysteria, who goes riding – she does look a caution when she walks about the hall. Her skirt is a ‘patent safety’ one – and comes down halfway between her knees and ankles on the left side and, on the other side, there is just a long piece of skirt which she hooks round her legs when walking but, when mounting, she unhooks it and stands there in trousers, exactly like a man’s!
The cooking here is not nearly so good as it was. There is a new manager – Father says he has not had anything decent to eat since he came. We went to Bournemouth yesterday and had lunch at the Mont Dore Hotel – the most ghastly, dull, establishment I was ever in, I think. I really have not a thing to write about but I know you like getting letters even if they are about nothing.
Did I tell you, Father has ordered a Ralli cart for Countess? How I wish I could find a house to live in. After reading your letters, Father said ‘Well, I feel quite disappointed. I thought they were settling down to like it – but they don’t seem to’. I can’t bear to think of you unhappy – do try and find something nice there. There are a nice lot of girls surely? Can’t you like them?
When you write, be sure you tell me how Ethel’s cough is and your bruises. Now you and Jim have both had the same experience – but yours was the more dangerous – being a bigger horse.
Lots of love, dears – I am constantly thinking of you – you may be sure. Be happy –
from
Mother.
Tiddy sends her love to you both.
NB on a card
Thursday
My dearest girls
I am so sorry I forgot in my two last letters to thank you both for the pictures you have bought us. I don’t think I would send them by post – either give them to Uncle Parker to bring or keep them till you come yourselves.
Father bought you a blouse each this morning and we sent them by post. I hope they will fit and you will like them.
There has been a grand wedding here today – a rather pretty bride.
The beach has been lovely here – such breakers. I shall think of you tomorrow.
Lots of love
From
Mother.
On a postcard
November 8th
Very many thanks for the letters received this morning.
Father is better and has been for a long walk on the sands.
Mr & Mrs Feiling left today.
Jim and Baby are all right.
Much love
Mother.
Hotel Burlington
Boscombe
Bournemouth
November 10th 1901
My dearest Girls
Of course I don’t think it selfish of you to want to see us – if you didn’t, I should think you were horrid little wretches – but I expect Miss Browning didn’t exactly mean that. She meant you ought not to make yourselves miserable about it.
Father has been quite ill and yesterday I sent for a Dr McGillicuddy to come and see him and we telephoned to Dr Armstrong and he said he would come down today, but this morning Father was so much better, having had the first night for a week without a raging head, that I telephoned him not to come.
Don’t say a word – but Father is trying to get a furnished house in Ipswich for a time – how do you like that? You can say when you write to me. You are good children and write so often, and such long letters.
This morning Father and I went down the gardens and found a hedgehog. We brought it into the lounge, where it is now.
Father talks of going home next Tuesday, so you had better write to Southgate after that.
There is the sweetest toy Pomeranian – black – here you ever saw. Its body is about the length of this paper open – has a huge tail and the sweetest face, even Father is quite gone on it.
Fancy! Woodcock has a baby girl, came last Friday. I’ve been buying Baby Jaeger and sleeping suits – I hear he does not like that style, prefers the old fashioned night shirt – like the man at the Gaiety Theatre.
Am glad you got on so well at hockey – did you two play?
I’ve worn my coat twice and Father went out with it and said nothing – it is most lovely.
As soon as I get home I shall be most awfully busy about the Bazaar and must get you a dress each somehow.
Heaps of love dears
From
Mother
Hotel Burlington
Boscombe
Bournemouth
November 11th 1901
My dearest Ethel
Were you not surprised to hear about the new baby?
Many thanks to you both for your long letters. Certainly if it is likely to do it good, Gladys may have her hair short. Not close to her head you know, but about four or five inches long.
Mrs Pam and Tiddy left this morning – Father and I walked with them to the Station and then on through Bournemouth across the Square into the gardens – by that time Father was tired so had a rest and came back on the hotel bus. He got up in the middle of lunch and went to lie down – where he has been ever since – it is now 5.30. I went up three times to see if he was all right and last time got him a glass of hot milk. The Doctor here says he is to drink a quart a day – but when I asked him to drink it he said he ‘couldn’t be disturbed’. So I lit the fire – but he said ‘Oh that beastly skirt’, meaning the silk lining – so I came down.
It is ghastly dull here – not a creature to speak to – even when Father is up he won’t talk. How I do wish I had one or two of you four here. I’m positively dying to see some of you. It is all very well of Father to preach ‘self-control’ to other people – (he says it is the one great lesson you two have to learn) – I just wish he would slightly control his irritability.
For goodness, sake don’t you ever allow yourselves to get into the way of fidgeting about every little thing that is not quite to your liking. I’m sure all last week, while his head was so bad, I crept about like a mouse and did everything I could think of to relieve him, but he was as irritable as he could be. I should be glad to go back to Southgate.
I wonder how much your theatrical frocks are going to cost! I suddenly remembered your aprons the other day – but, as you have managed so far, I suppose it is all right. I am looking forward to the 19th. You will be in time for at least one day of the Bazaar. I hope you will come by the early train, otherwise I could not come to meet you – as I should have to be at Queen’s Hall.
Isn’t it good of Auntie Parker to stay at Southgate all this time? I expect it is not very convenient. Mrs Starley has asked me to let her girls spend a day or two with you in the holidays. They had intended asking you there – of course, though, we couldn’t have spared you)
Goodbye dears, keep well.
Lots of love
Mother
Hotel Burlington
Boscombe
Bournemouth
November 13th 1901
My darling Gladys
Thank Ethel for her letter this morning. Your fur caps are at Southgate, waiting till I go home – they are with my muffs and fox fur – I want to see them before they are sent.
Father had quite a good night and no headache. I don’t know when we are going home.
May I suggest, dear, that you write much closer – your paper won’t last any time if you spread it out so.
Do you know – you must not mind my saying so – but it really does seem as if you go out of your way – really take pains – to spell words in the maddest way you can. Do try to get them right, there’s a dear.
I expect you got your ties today – hope you like them.
Mr and Mrs Daw don’t seem to be coming – I wish they would.
I’ve done nothing about the bazaar yet – I shall have to look sharp. Fancy, only five weeks – lovely.
I wonder where we shall spend Xmas this year?
Yesterday was awful, pouring rain and a hurricane of wind – down at the pier, I could hardly stand and though the waves reached up to the breakwater, they broke very far beyond the end of the pier. I never saw it so rough.
Lots of love, dears, to you both
From
Mother.
Hotel Burlington
Boscombe
Bournemouth
November 15th 1901
Darling girls
I think you had better leave off your combinations at night – it gives them a chance to get aired. I wish you to have your hair cut short so you can tell Miss Browning so, if she says anything.
Father’s head is better but he is not at all well and I don’t know when I am going home. I am getting in a stew about the bazaar for I’ve done nothing towards it yet. I suppose I shall have to buy all the things myself – as well as pay that £50 to Shoolbreds. By that time, I shall be pretty well cleared out.
We went over such a delightful house, close by, the other day – did I tell you? Exactly the house for us, if it could be transferred to the neighbourhood of Southgate or Hadley – you would like it. Parquet floors, two bathrooms, a lovely big nursery – all quite new – electric light and about an acre of garden – no stabling.
But how could we live all this way away from town?
t has been, and still is, bitterly cold here but now the sun is shining. Father and I have taken to playing patience – fancy!!
Lots of love, dears, to you both
From
Mother.
The GREEN
Southgate
November 17th 1901
Dearest girls
I came home last night – and was very glad to see the boys again, I can tell you. Isn’t it kind of Auntie to have stayed here all this time – nearly three weeks?
I left Boscombe in brilliant sunshine, bright blue sky – by the time we got to Woking, the ground and trees were white with hoar frost, like a Christmas card and just afterwards we ran into an awful fog – which got worse and worse. We could see nothing from the windows – it was like a grey whale and the glass was frozen. We kept stopping and finally got to Waterloo at 6.15, just an hour and a half late.
Woodcock had been waiting about an hour and three quarters – he was nearly frozen. The fog was so bad that, crossing Waterloo Bridge, conductors had to lead omnibus horses. Up at the end of Bow Street, it suddenly disappeared.
It is frightfully cold here, the ice is thick on the ponds and it seems impossible to get warm.
Father goes to Coventry tomorrow – I don’t know when he will come here – but he wants to see your caps before I send them, so you must wait a little longer. They are fearfully expensive – one would never guess from looking at them that they could have cost so much.
I went to the Rosses this afternoon – Winnie looks all right – has been to Scotland for the Exhibition. They sent their love to you both. The three have gone to Enfield High School – as day boarders.
Mr Ross seems to delight in teasing me – he says he has been telling people that Mr and Mrs Cade had gone to Bournemouth to a home for inebriates – and he was going to get an order form the Guardians to take charge of Jim and Baby!!!!
Sammy Hodgson is an abominable boy – he is nineteen and, the other day, went off and married a girl of eighteen – and wrote telling his parents next day – there’s treatment from an only child. Of course, they have nothing to live on at all. Idiots!
They birds and animals are all right.
Lots of love, dears. Kate walked up the village with me and sends love
Your loving
Mother.
The GREEN
Southgate
November 22nd (on a card)
Dearest girls
Here are your caps – the biggest, of course, is Ethel’s – are they not nice? Lizzie will sew the other end of the elastics I expect, if you ask her. Father is here – came last night. He doesn’t look at all well – but is better.
I am awfully busy about the bazar. I am having chiefly leather goods – purses, etc – suitable for presents – such beauties. The Lord Mayor opens it the first day – in state.
Dr Armstrong has been elected medical officer to the board of Guardians – he got twenty-one votes, Runsome, fourteen. Isn’t that fine!
Countess is beautiful – the cart and harness will be ready in ten days.
Heaps of love
From
Mother
The GREEN
Southgate
November 29th 1901
Darling Gladys
I’m so sorry about your toothache dear, but I would much rather you did not have it out. I’d like you to have it broken off, like Ethel’s, at Mr Hugo’s. See if Dr Wills can kill the nerve to stop the pain. You could go as soon as you get home.
I’m nearly out of my mind with house hunting, Father, and never being able to find anything – it’s positively maddening.
I’ll look again for the ballet shoes.
Thanks for the dear little curls – much love, dear, I do hope the pain is better
Mother
The GREEN
Southgate
November 30th 1901
My dearest Ethel
I’m afraid you have not had many letters from me lately since I came home for Father has been away from business and you know what it is like when he is at home; either I must be with him or going out somewhere with him. For a whole week I think I went up to town every day, either to look at flats or houses, or go to the dressmakers, or something. And now we are not one bit forwarder – we have no house.
Last Friday morning we drove to Hampstead Heath to see one and Father was very much gone on it. I was not. There was no stable, and only a small garden, though the house was very convenient. This morning we drove Mr and Mrs Ross over to look at it and they don’t like it at all – so it’s off, and I’m glad. Then, on Friday afternoon, we drove down to a most charming little house called The Cottage at Kingsbury near Hendon – a lovely place – very lonely, miles from everyone. Father is gone on that now. Where we shall finally go for Xmas I can’t imagine.
You had better send your silk frocks and white blouses home to be cleaned at the end of this week or you won’t have them for Xmas.
Yesterday Father and I went to lunch and tea at Mr Ross’s and had a very pleasant time. Father seems a little better on the whole, though he has a bad head just now.
This afternoon we drove to Mr Cranfield’s at Enfield – (you remember us going one Saturday with Mr & Mrs Rice). I took baby, and Mr & Mrs Parker went. They made us stay to tea and baby had a high time with the children. He is a little dear. You will think he has grown a lot when you see him.
Countess has been clipped and does look swell. I think we shall use the Ralli car and the harness this week. People will see us coming then, I assure you. I am counting the days till you come home – be sure and come in the morning because I have to be at the Bazaar by 2pm – it opens at 2.30pm.
How is Gladys’s toothache? I’ve so often thought of her and do hope it is better.
Much love dearies
From
Mother
The GREEN
Southgate
December 3re 1901
Dearest Gladys
Thanks for your letter and cards – they are very pretty. We think you had better not be vaccinated again as it would very likely interfere with our arrangements for Xmas time.
I can’t find the white ballet shoes yet, but will turn out another box and send them if they are there.
I’m sorry if Ethel is disappointed about Titania – but, never mind, perhaps it is better for a girl to have it who has been there longer.
Auntie Grace has been here today – sends lots of love to you both.
I wonder if you will want a new party dress each? You must come home in the morning of the 19th or I shall be at the bazaar. Mary Ross, Kate, Tiddy and Lois are going to sell for me.
Have been looking at no end of houses – am thoroughly tired of it.
I told Baby the other day you were both coming home in a fortnight and he said ‘That’s all right’. You will find he has grown.
Father seems better, but has not gone to business yet.
Lots of love to you both
From
Mother
Have got rid of flowers you had at dancing?
The Sackville
undated
Dearest Ethel
I send the hair wash – and I meant to ask you if you had your riding gloves as I should not like you to wear the new black ones. Send word by Jim if you have them – if not, I will get you some in the town.
This, of course, means both of you.
Much love to you both
From
Mother
© VCRT