Ponting of the Antarctic *****

Clifton Hotel1

Welbeck Street, Cavendish Square

London, W.

Telegraphic Address:

“cliflinton” (wesdo) London

Telephone No. 5953 Mayfair

Dear Angel:

Your “last letter” came yesterday and sends little shivers all up and down my back.  In a way I wish you were going to be in New York, for I shall hate the time on the train when I really am so near, and yet not seeing you.  But on the whole I suppose I would rather have you peacefully at home.  Do you think you could run up to Summerville, and then we could have such a nice quiet chat on the way home, for I’ll be so excited if everything comes at once that I know my heart will stop beating.  Two weeks from today I hope we shall be there!

I was so sorry to hear of Mrs. Brown’s serious condition.  She has recovered from so many terrible spells that I somehow expected her to keep on and only hope she may this time.  Thank you for the bills for the linen.

We had a fine trip down from Todmorden, 230 miles through beautiful country and over splendid roads.  We stopped in some woods and had a picnic lunch, and later boiled the kettle and had tea.  It took us just twelve hours, including the two stops.  We came to this hotel as the Gillis’s wanted to come here (we expect them today) and it is under the same management as the Dysart, but a little more pretentious and larger.

I invited Maggie down to spend the day, and she is coming any minute now.  She wants to do a little shopping, and we shall then probably go to some matinee.  Father looks a thousand times better.  It is probably the home life and good cooking we’ve had at the Farrow’s and Petrie’s, I think.  Had a note from Mrs. Dutson, Mary’s mother, inviting us there, but hadn’t time this trip.

Do you remember some pictures in that “Alice in W.”2 of mine of an Englishman, Mr. Ponting, who crossed the Pacific with us ten years ago?  He sat beside me in the dining room, and we got to know him quite well.  He was the photographer who went with Scott three years ago on his South Pole expedition, and had most unusual experiences.  Well, he is here lecturing now with the moving pictures he took, and when he heard we were here invited us to hear him, and afterwards to supper.  He is awfully nice, and gave me a beautiful, big book he wrote after varied experiences in Japan.  He was particularly interested in the bird and animal life in the polar region, and shows some wonderful views of their strange habits.  One where a baby penguin is pecking its way out of its shell, and another of a huge seal gnawing through the ice.  This ends rather suddenly just as the seal charges at the camera.  He must have unlimited patience and endurance, for sometimes he sat by his camera ten or twelve hours waiting for a penguin to do some particular thing which he had seen, but no one else ever had, so he must make a record of it in the picture.  One time he was swung by a rope over the side of the ship down to the water line, and there took most marvelous pictures of the bow cutting through the ice.  Views of the dogs, ponies, camp life, and everything and all this done at 60 or 70 below zero.  He said you could hear a man talking three miles away.  He is dining with us tomorrow evening, and I hope to have some other people, too.

Am not getting any clothes at all.  That is, except just the most necessary things, for I want to wait till you are with me.  Let’s have a spree sometime soon, and you can get new linens, etc.  for I don’t know beans about them, and I must have some summer clothes, too.  My wardrobe is in a hopeless state, so be prepared for the worst.

We sail on Sunday at two thirty.  This will probably go on the same steamer.  Will telegraph you when to expect us, and if it doesn’t upset your plans, do come to Summerville.  I can’t wait any longer.

May 28, 1914

Ten Little Puppies Scuttled Off

Scaitcliffe1,

Todmorden

Telephone No. 10

Sallie dearest:

We left the Farrow’s on Friday.  I was sorry we couldn’t finish the week with them, but Mrs. Petrie found she had to go to London soon, so begged us to come now.  It was so planned at first.  I mean we set that date, etc. and I put it off a couple of times before, so I thought we had better come, especially as we shall see Mr. and Mrs. Farrow in the States ere long.  Maggie wanted us to come back and spend a few days with them later, but I don’t believe we had better, as she is having trouble with servants.  I want her to come to London when we get back, and we can have a little spree together there.

Mr. Petrie met us in the car.  They have three beauties, and as we came up the drive, we were greeted by thirteen guns and the hoisting of our flag.  It was very gay, and Mrs. Petrie was on the lawn with ten little puppies;  they were so frightened by the firing that they all scuttled off, and we were summoned to rescue them from the pond, tulip beds, etc.  The grounds here are beautiful – very hilly country with wonderful flowers and splendid roads, so between numerous dinners, teas, etc. we’ve done a lot of motoring.

The coming week is full, and we leave on Friday for London.  Evelyn Champion is here too.  We met her in Egypt, and her father and mother asked if we would take her home on the steamer in June, so she will cross with us.  Is a little older than I am and from Winnipeg.

Sorry I haven’t time for more, but they are calling me to go out for a walk.

Oceans of love,

Alice

May 17, 1914

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1 http://www.scaitcliffehall.com/index.php Apparently a hotel 2009.

Hawthorne Hedges

Westwood Manor

Peterborough

Sallie dear:

My, how I wish you and Shang were here.  What good times we good have!  The hawthorne hedges are beautiful now – great masses of snowy white all through the country, outlining the fields and lanes, and in town the pink ones are just at their best.  I was so glad to get here, and it does seem good to see people whom I’ve known before.  Maggie and Mr. Farrow met us and we’ve been motoring with her every afternoon.  Last night were there for supper.  The boys all have the whooping cough, but play outdoors just the same.  Aren’t they splendid?  I hope I shall have sixteen just like them.

This afternoon we are all going to an oratorio at the cathedral, the “Messiah,” and they say it will be very good.  Willie and his family were here for tea a couple of days ago.  The baby, of course, is much bigger than when you were here, and while it isn’t much for looks, she is a bright, happy little thing.

The Gillis’ are coming to see us off.  They have been spending these two months in Florence, where the girls are taking three lessons a day is Italian, and now are coming on to London to have three or four days there with us, and will then take us to Southampton, going from there to Spain for the summer.

The first couple of days here were rather cold and rainy, but now it is fine – still not sunny, but clearer and warmer.

Mrs. Farrow is much thinner than when we were all here, though perhaps no more so than last summer.  Mr. Farrow looks very well, and stouter.

I hear Maggie’s car coming.  It’s time for us to go to the cathedral.  This morning we motored over to Crowland Abbey.

Oceans of love,

Alice

May 14, 1914

British Country House *****

Telegrams,                                                                                    Alderbourne Manor,

Fulmer                                                                                    Gerrard’s Cross, Bucks.

Dear Sallie:

So much to tell you!  I’ve been shopping wildly, and finished just at the last minute.  That is, all but your curlers, which I hope to get when we return.  Went to Tarlita’s one day, but he was closed.  The baby dress was quite a puzzle, but lots of fun getting.  Never before knew there were so many styles, and as you gave me no definite idea, I hadn’t much to go on.

Went to Selfridges.  It is a beautiful store isn’t it, and their baby department fascinating, but they had only one dress that I thought very pretty at the time. So decided I’d better look further, for my own instruction if nothing else, for there was little for me to compare this one with.  So after visiting various shops, I found the prettiest one I had seen – nothing very unusual, but dainty, good embroidery and fine material;  well made on a little yoke – the lower part tucked, and under the little tucks, big ones so it can be let out – a touch of real val lace around the sleeves and scalloped bottom with eyelet daisies.  It is very simple, but I hope you will like it.  Thirty eight shillings.

Then I got a suit and hat, blouse, gloves and two blue silk dresses – one rather evening, and the other afternoon.  That is my greatest weakness, for I rarely can resist buying one – and by the way, when I die, won’t you dress me in dull blue silk?  I’m happier in it than anything I know of, and I should think most natural.  Father had a very nice looking blue suit made.  My army cape came from Lover, and is a monster, but as warm as toast, and will be fine for crossing the Atlantic.

We went to see “The Lights o’ London”.  It was played in 1881.  Father saw it here then, and it is now being revived, is most harrowing and I was dissolved in tears most of the time, but is well played.  Also “Things We’d Like to Know” which was splendid and had as an ending the loveliest proposal I’ve ever seen on the stage.

Do you remember Mr. Bell White who was so good to me ten years ago in London and who always sends me a Christmas card?  Well, Father let him know we were here, so he called and promptly invited us out to his home for the weekend.  We took the 4 o’clock train, reached here at 4:30, where he met us in the car.  His wife is a charming woman.  Two daughters, about my age who have spent the day transplanting tomato plants, and are very human, and acres and acres of grounds, hunting preserves, woods, a big pond, and huge rambling house with thousands of rooms.  Sir Charles and Lady Parsons and another man (the latter, I suppose, to amuse me) also as weekend guests, so we are quite a party.

We had tea, and then went for a stroll in the woods to see the bluebells, which are perfectly wonderful – just a solid carpet and it looks as though a blue mist had settled over everything.  The garden and grounds are magnificent, and after inspecting all the vegetables and livestock, it was time to dress for dinner.

Imagine my surprise to find lined up on my dressing table various treasures, which I hadn’t seen for months!  One of the maids had not only unpacked my suitcase in the usual sense of the word, but had taken out every single thing, arranged them in proper drawers, or on the desk, or in the closet, and gone off with the suitcase!  Of course periodically I have a housecleaning party among my belongings, but never by any chance is the lower layer disturbed, for it contains “night needs” and other useless odds and ends, so you may know how I felt to see them out in broad day light.  Things I didn’t know I had!  Now the mystery is, how did they get it open when I was walking in the woods with the key in my stocking?

However, I selected from the array on the bed my most festive evening gown, which I donned with much assistance, descended to indulge in a most elaborate dinner.  We talked later, had a little music, and now I’m having a fine talk with you. There is a lovely fire cracking away, I’m all ready for bed, and sitting in a big comfortable chair by a soft shaded light, and at my elbow is a glass pitcher of rich creamy milk, three dainty sandwiches, and a little sponge cake.  I’m gritting my teeth and wondering if I can go to bed and leave them there untouched.

Do you know that three years ago tonight I was sleeping on the couch in your room at the hospital, and tomorrow we go home.  Mrs. Perchment with the carriage and all.  Do you remember?

It has turned quite cold today, but I don’t mind for these people are all so charming and natural, and the house so beautiful I’m glad to enjoy it more thoroughly.

The little clock says nearly two!  So goodnight.  I love you bushels, and to think that in a month we shall be at least in the States, and very shortly with you.

Alice

May 9, 1914