British Camp Hotel,
Wynd's Point,
Malvern.Sept. 3 1926
Honey dear:-
This is an interesting place - and I'm crazy to have the "depression" pass so I can see it. But yesterday's paper says the fair weather was "squeezed out" between one depression which came from France and another from the south of Ireland - too bad. It's a brief journey here from Hereford. The hotel is, I judge, at the top of a pass in the Malvern Hills. These are bare things, about the size of our ranges, but much more gentle, though they talk about precipices. There were old Roman and earlier fortifications here because of the pass from Wales. This morning I've been up on two hills, what I know not, and the old embankments are certainly clear. If the weather will improve - and today really does give some hope - I'll take pictures cheerfully. There seem to be many walks and in several directions. The hills are not heather covered, alas, but have gorse, with many deep gold blossoms, though I think it's a second blooming, and brachen and sheep. The valleys have trees and much greenness.
Jenny Lind has a summer home next door - died there. I found a most interesting life of her around the house yesterday and it was fun to get the references to her early years in Stockholm. I've always remembered how my mother talkeda bout her, though I doubt if she ever heard her sing. She gave up the opera because she didn't like the life it necessitated, partly from the religious point of view, and later gave up her concert life just because she wished to have a home life of the usual type. And so much of her singing was for charity. It seems very unusual.
A retired vicar from Cheltenham has just been around to see if he can't get me to Eastnor Castle, a "sight" near here. He's a sweet old thing, Niblett by name, with a hustler for a wife. They have a daughter married to an American in Harrisburg, Pa. and so they asked me to sit with them at table. The other permanents seem to be a retired master from Winchester and another sprightly wife, and a silent lady, who only spoke last evening to tell the other dames one choice bit of scandal wasn't so! There's also a fine looking man, who hunts, and who also was the basis for the scandal! Oh, it's an amusing group. The vicar has a bicycle and would ordinarily trundle along to Eastnor. His wife can't go, even in a ponytrap - she's too nervous! Motors not allowed in the Park which begins very near here. But he can't quite let the lady walk alone, as I've suggested. What will happen I don't know - it may rain, as it did yesterday. But it's a restful spot - I've been mending my garments since I came in.
The tickets and lodging for Worcester are secure - I finally telephoned about the bed. Today I've engaged a bed for the last night in Southampton at what sounds like a charming spot, Blue Peter House. And from the retired master at Winchester I'm expecting to learn just what I can see there in a few hours. My trunk has not reached Southampton, so the Royal Mail writes, but they have "taken steps" and so have I - and it's not time to worry yet.
Many birds singing around here, even thus [sic] late. I've seen a wood pecker as large as our flicker, possibly a "green woodpecker, for it was greenish and on the ground, and that one like ours eats ants. There was a nice robin on the hill this morning, and some little bird with a white rump. A greenish warbler sat on the roof below my window, but who does the singing I have no idea. There are wag-tails about as in Sweden, many of them, also sparrows of more than one kind and perhaps wrens.
Sept. 4.
I'm ready before breakfast - think of that. Yesterday the walk to Eastnor came off. The vicar is a nice little red-faced, bald-headed gentleman of over 70, I judge, with few brains. He told me how he was in his parish, a small one near here, 43 years and now his son has it. It's one of those things where the people have no choice, I forget what kind of "living" he called it, and he just established his son there for life. Remarkable. But he's a sweet old thing and his wife seemed to think 8 miles not too much for him, so off we went. About a half mile along the road we went in a lodge gate and then through Lord Somer's estate by the Ridgeway drive for 2 1/2 miles, all the way a tree-shaded avenue - beeches, oaks, other trees, and especially yews. I never saw such fine big ones, and many of them really full of red berries, very lovely indeed. At one place there was mistletoe on an oak, rare, Mr. Niblett says. The Ridgeway lies along the summit of an almost straight narrow and level ridge with low ground rolling away on either side, to near hills on one side, far ones on the other. It didn't rain and the haze let us see a little of the landscape. Then we came to some fine gates, formerly painted blue and gold, where the lodge woman took on and put off her h's beautifully. That entered the Park, a half mile or more of open space with beautiful, huge trees, hundreds of rabbits and maybe 50 deer in a herd standing down in a vale, just like English pictures. The castle came in view, quite large and elegant, rising above a lake. But we didn't get in because the vicar who was to do the act was away on holiday. It's another of those "livings", I judge. Lord Somers has gone to be governor of Queensland, to be sure.
Sept. 4
To continue, a man who stuttered horribly but who didn't let that interfere with his conversation, told us about the vicar's vacation and how we might possibly see the Castle, but I felt sure we ought to have tea so my elderly escort could get cherked [sic] up, so we went on up the road to "Somers Arms" and had a "proper set up tea", at which the Rev. Niblett drank three strong cups and was as good as new. We looked over the little church, with a Norman doorway and font about which they claim that it indicates the babies were immersed, since the thing is deep, but to my mind the clergyman would have had to steer the wiggling feet rather deftly, for the deep part is but small! The vicar and I suspect the evidence! Lady Henry Somerset belonged at Eastnor and there are many stories of her, especially she took all her jewels near the end of her life and made a very beautiful cross for this same little church. This again we could not see because of the vicar's holiday. We walked on home through the Park and the Ridgeway, arriving in time for dinner - about 8 miles between three and seven.
We sit of [sic] an evening in the drawing-room, and really, you would be most amused. The conversation doesn't flag at all. I write in a desultory way and don't miss any of the important topics. The wife of the Winchester master is really pleasant, "not a drop of English blood in my veins, mother Welsh, father French." She's going to tell me about Winchester, even give me notes so I'll be shown around properly. Now think of that! I don't even know their names yet - Hardy husband gentle and sweet. ["Hardy" was added in the margin.] The disgruntled, silent lady speaks only to make corrections! She led me out for an evening stroll and told me how the remarks of the vicar were all wrong!
This forenoon after breakfast, at which the man of questionable morals (!) prophesied fair weather in spite of heavy clouds, I set out for three miles down hill to Malvern Wells. Mr. Berry, proprietor, told me to turn at the lamp-post beyond the row of stores. But anon the lamp-posts and stores appeared in alternation, and I found that the turn was about at the 45th lamp-post. However, the station was there, as remote from the town as usual. The railroads seem to allow for much growth of the towns. There was a train for Tewksbury with a round trip for a single fare on Saturday. Great bargain 1/3. The Abbey in Tewksbury is lovely, more beautiful than some cathedrals, Norman nave and beautiful Decorated choir with the old windows, seven of them. The glass with the sun shining was just like jewels, and all the proportions are so satisfying. The monuments, too, are lovely, and one very amusing, with a corpse and its worms! The animals seemed unusual to me, snakes, frog, snail, mouse, really quite zoological. I forgot to look at the tracery [?] for chasing the beasts. Then I got up the tower, from which there was a charming view, the Malverns in the distance, the Severn the gradens of the abbey, and such an interesting set of roofs, in the circle of chapels around the choir.
There were more old beamed houses in Tweksbury than I ever saw in my life, but I lunched at an Italian restaurant, which with its tawdry canopies buts [sic] up against the cathedral close. Perfectly absurd, but a good lunch.
It's a hop region around here and one "sight" was a crowd of hop-pickers "hoppers" getting off a London train, with babies and battered tin trunks whcih they helped each other carry. Such awful coats tied on the outside of them I never beheld. But I'm told they really have a good time at this season. There's a hop-market in Worcester almost under the windows of my hotel - also the Royal Worcester factories for side shows there.
On the way back from Tewksbury I decided to go on to Great Malvern - most remarkable place! I should judge it to be more or less of a Bar Harbor - big hotels, rather elegant shops, fine houses, &c. There's a Priory with another Norman nave. Every church in this region began between 1070 and 1080! There was a wild rush into these huge edifices, with one of William's sons on the spot. He's buried in Hereford, with one leg still in the air - not crossed peacably yet - most restless looking.
At Malvern I bought me a cake of soap and a small bottle of smelling salts against the journey home. Rime's [?] were fine in making the stateroom pleasant on the way over. These are less good - but nobody knows what sort of companion I'll have! I've heard such awful tales this summer of these unknowns.
Then at 4:30 there was a bus back, by the Jubilee Drive (1887) which cuts the range half way between Malvern and here, and so gets the outlook on both sides from high levels. 'Tis a fair picture, too, such a wide stretch of level or slightly rolling country, all cut up by hedge rows and little villages, with occasional woodland. Oh, the lodge keeper at Eastnor was gathering waste wood and tying it in fagots because of the coal shortage. The situation is about like ours ina time of coal strikes, but the trains seem to be undisturbed.
The news from China makes me wonder what is happening to Lucy Baker and her things. With Wuchang captured and Hankow the bone of contention, the chance of looting Wuchang seems considerable. Lucy and her family may still be in the mountains of course. And I wonder if Miss Purington will be kept from stopping at Peking. She surely can't go to see Lucy! An editorial in the Times (I think) said that England, Japan & the U.S. ought to go in and help China as they had helped Germany, &c, but that they couldn't possibly agree as to what to do! It certainly gets worse and worse. Me-iung's last letter was very distressing.
The man-of-uncertain-morals has been today to see an auto hill-climbing race, one of those deadly ones, with most of the winners in the awful [?] French races over for it. He was much excited. I judge he has sporting tendencies. He's rather diverting, and the vicar's wife likes to talk with him! He belongs somewhere around here and the Nibletts know everybody in the region.
I'll send this off tomorrow, and then mail one more before I start, for it will probably take a quicker boat than I travel on. Expect me when you see me. Boat due the 20th, I believe. Shall get to So. Had. as soon as I can, naturally, but of course I can't tell when. Please have my keys available if you go out for an evening or a forenoon for the wherewithal for making my bed is in my locker. I haven't any house-key, but I guess I can get in if the hour is late. If not, I'll shin up the vine to my porch.
Much love, honey dear,
AbbyThe wife of the Winchester master is sister of the Bishop of Liverpool, who was headmaster of Rugby before he became bishop. She's an entertaining woman - but quite sure there's something in horoscopes! Says she, "Henry, when the hoky-poky ice cream man comes, you can bring me some." Now I like an elderly lady who still enjoys hoky-poky.