Sunday, May 14, 2017

Diaries of a Pakistan leader

‘Invited the members of cabinet and explained why I had resigned. It was quite obvious that the politicians are hell bent on disrupting the country, and besides, economic life was coming to a halt. Workers and even government officials had said goodbye to discipline. In any case, I could not sit on the dissolution of Pakistan by lawful or unlawful means.’ This is Mohammed Ayub Khan, the second president of Pakistan, explaining to his diary why he has decided to step down from office. Ayub Khan, born 110 years ago today, kept a detailed diary in the latter years of his life with the full intention of it being published, but not till long after his death. Since publication, in 2007, Ayub Khan’s diaries have been praised for providing a unique insight into the country’s politics at the time, but they have also been condemned for the way he denigrated his contemporaries.

Ayub Khan was born on 14 May 1907 in Rehana, a village in what was known as the North-West Frontier Province (now Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa, province of Pakistan), the first child of the second wife of Mir Dad, a soldier in the British Indian Army. He rode four miles to his first school on a mule, then lived with his grandmother while attending a school in Haripur. He studied at Aligarh Muslim University before being accepted into the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst, though he did not complete his degree there. As well as his regional Hindko dialect, he was fluent in fluent in Urdu, English and Pashto. He followed his father into the British Indian Army, rising to the rank of major by 1941.

During the Second World War, Ayub Khan was second-in-command of a regiment in Burma (Myanmar) and in charge of a battalion in India, being promoted to colonel. After the establishment of Pakistan in 1947, he rose quickly in the new country’s army from major general to commander in chief, serving briefly in 1954-1955 as minister of defence. After several years of political chaos, Ayub Khan emerged as the country’s leader in the late 1950s, being elected president in 1960 (he also held the post of minister of defence). He helped restore the economy through agrarian reforms and by promoting industry and encouraging foreign investment. He also introduced a system of local government, and moved the country’s capital from Karachi to the planned city of Islamabad.

His period in office was characterised by worsening relations with India. In response to China’s invasion of northern India in the early 1960s, the US had begun to re-arm India; in response Ayub Khan moved to establish closer ties with China. And, in 1965, Pakistan went to war briefly with India over a boundary dispute in Kashmir. Although that same year, Ayub Khan was re-elected president, the simmering Kashmir dispute and growing turmoil at home, including riots, led him to resign office in 1969. He died a few years later, in 1974. Further information can be found online at Wikipedia, Encyclopaedia Britannica, or the Pakistani magazine Forum.

For several years, towards the end of his life, Ayub Khan kept a diary. Edited and annotated by Craig Baxter, this was published by Oxford University Press in 2007 as Diaries of Field Marshall Mohammed Ayub Khan 1966-1972. In an ‘Author’s Note’, he explains his reasons for keeping the diary, and why he mandated it not be published for ‘a long time’.

‘Ever since assumption of the responsible office of C-in-C of the Army on 17 January 1951, I, apart from becoming responsible for the defence of the country, also came into contact with the higher functionaries of the government at the policy making level. So, I have had the opportunity of seeing the history of Pakistan in the making and later making it myself in the capacity of President. I was often asked by friends to record my experiences for the benefit of future generations and myself felt the need for it, but somehow I never got round to writing my diary, more through lack of habit than anything else. However, when I came to writing my book Friends not Masters [OUP, 1967], I had to do it through memory. This was a very taxing and tiresome job. So, I forced myself to start writing my diary in case it was decided to write another book or use it as reference material. But one thing is clear: that this material cannot be used for a long time to come as it is bound to contain sensitive material affecting personalities or events having a bearing or relationship with, or influence on, the affairs of Pakistan. In making my comments or observations, I will do so as I honestly felt at the time. But these are liable to be misunderstood and can cause a lot of harm if divulged prematurely. Hence, the need for deferment of publication of this material until such time as it ceases to be part of contemporary history.’

A positive review of the diaries has been left by Dr Syed Hussain Shaheed Soherwordi, an associate professor at Peshawar University, on the book’s page at Amazon. He says: ‘Diaries of a person who held top posts in Pakistan are very rare. Aruba Khan’s are the only diaries yet found to have given a first-hand perspective on the important political events of the period and have further advantage of being fulsome and detailed. These diaries also have a more pertinent value than most as these can be read and assessed in conjunction with other works on Ayub Khan - such as by Lawrence Ziring and Altaf Gauhar and with his own autobiography, ‘Friends Not Masters’. In the diaries, Ayub Khan has insights which in themselves shed light on contemporary politics, help to document the relations between the government and the governed, and also provide, for the first time, an insider's viewpoint on the workings of political ruling hierarchy.’

However, a more critical view of the diaries can be found at Pakdef (which describes its main objective as ‘to provide policy-makers, the press and media, students and teachers, journalists and scholars, and the interested public with authoritative information, analysis and commentary on Pakistan’s military and geo-strategic environment’). The discussion is based on an article, written by a retired commodore of the Pakistan Air Force, S. Sajad Haider. He starts as follows: ‘Discerning observers have been deeply perturbed by the expletives used in [Ayub Khan’s diaries] against the late military ruler’s opponents and dissenters. Ayub Khan was far ahead of all other dictators and usurpers when it came to obfuscating the truth and portraying himself as a national hero. This was made possible because the plunderers and blunderers of this beleaguered nation have always left behind a powerful network of scions and beneficiaries who either kept their sins hidden away from the reach of students of history or projected themselves through propaganda sustained by the power of embezzled and stolen wealth. What stands out in some excerpts that I read of the diaries is Ayub Khan’s contempt for and denigration of every single one of his former colleagues who turned hostile to his despotic and dishonest policies and rebelled after perceptive deliberation.’

Here are several extracts from Ayub Khan’s diaries.

26 September 1966
‘The deputy foreign minister of the Soviet Union, Nikolai Pavlovich Firyubin, came to see me in Swat. His objective was to gain support on the stand they are taking on different world problems in the current General Assembly. Problems like disarmament, non-proliferation of nuclear weapons, Vietnam, decolonisation, future of Southwest Africa, etc. are involved. Our views are not dissimilar.

I brought up the question of more economic aid, supply of arms and the danger of arming India to such an extent. He took note of these things and promised to convey my views to his government. The general impression one gets is that the Soviets are happy about the manner in which our relations arc developing and so are we. It is in our interest that our relations with the Soviets should gain depth. We can then develop greater leverage with the USA and India.

The Soviets seem to be hesitant in supplying us arms even though Kosygin had repeatedly promised to me. I am sending him a letter of reminder.’

27 September 1966
‘Went to the Kalam Valley at the head of Swat Valley for a day. In fact, there are two main valleys from the village of Kalam with beautiful rivers flowing through them. We motored up these valleys part of the way. The scenery was fantastic. The roads have made all the difference to the life of the people. They can get their products out and get their requirements in so cheaply. All villages are connected by a bus service. They hardly had any winter crop in the past. Now the agriculture department has developed a strain of wheat for them which does well on those heights. All this has remobilised the life of the people. There are schools, dispensaries and rest houses in all places of note.

On the way to Kalam, we found many signs of progress and prosperity. The Wali has done a lot for his people. There is a great influx of tourists, especially in the summer. Small hotels and rest houses are, therefore, springing up everywhere. The trouble with the Wali is that he is not interested in agriculture and horticulture and is not prepared to take advice or learn. If he did, a lot of development could take place increasing the income of the people and the state manifold.

The drive up the valley of Swat is by itself soul satisfying, but the beauty of the side valleys, which are many, is fantastic and breathtaking. There are good shingle roads to practically all of them.’

1 December 1966
‘Ayub Awan and the governor of West Pakistan and the defence minister came to see me to transact business. Bhutto’s acrobatics on politics were brought up by every one of them.

Mr Farooqui and the architect showed me the plan and model of president’s house in Islamabad. It looked very attractive. I told them that the cost should be kept as low as possible.

Gave a reception to the dignitaries of the Colombo Plan. The conference was held in Karachi. About seventy guests attended.

I saw a telegram from the ambassador in New Delhi that Chagla had gone back on his earlier desire to meet our foreign minister in Geneva. He refuses to discuss Kashmir. It just shows what twisters the Hindus are. They have no word of honour.’

2 December 1966
‘Went to Nawabshah for a day shoot in the Pai forest. The bag was 135 partridges. I shot 79. It was a poor shoot. Something has gone wrong. There are not so many birds there now.

Large number of people had come to see me at the airport. An address was read out inviting me to accept presidentship for twenty years. I told them that was wrong. People must exercise their right of choice every five years in accordance with the constitution. Little do they know that I should be very happy if they find someone else to replace me provided he is suitable and does not bring to naught what I have done.’

3 December 1966
‘Mr Pirzada, the foreign minister, saw me on return from Geneva where he had gone to meet our team who are fighting the Rann of Kutch case with India before the tribunal. It is understood that the Indians, finding their case weak, are now trying to gain time and influence the tribunal by other means. They have suggested to the tribunal to visit India for sightseeing and inspection of the Rann. Mr Pirzada was instructed to tell our representative on the tribunal to warn the president of the danger of this. If they listen to the Indians, they will only be exposing themselves to the charge of being bought.

Laid the foundation stone of Tibbi Institute being sponsored by Hakim Saeed. The doctors are very perturbed. They think that quacks are being given unnecessary encouragement. I warned in my address that unless Tibbis modernize their science and allow their research to be subjected to critical analysis, they would not be able to bluff their way through.

Attended a banquet given by the Pakistan British and Commonwealth Medical Council. It also included eminent scientists from several other countries. I had the pleasure of meeting several medical celebrities.’


16 March 1969
‘Yusuf Haroon has been designated as Governor of West Pakistan.

I am doubtful the two amendments we wish to bring before the assembly will go through. Even the moderates will try to outbid the extremists in demands. I have told some Punjabis to get influential Punjabis to make statements that they would not be averse to undoing West Pakistan [one unit] so as to gain the confidence of people of smaller provinces to prevent them depending too much on East Pakistanis. I have also said that two commissions should be set up to determine the financial and administrative consequences of undoing one unit. I am told the Frontier, Balochistan, and even Sindh would not be viable without substantive support from the centre. I would like a similar commission for East Pakistan. My object is to prevent rush actions being taken. Whatever is done must be scientifically considered.’

25 March 1969
‘Recorded my speech to the nation explaining why it was necessary for me to step aside.’

26 March 1969
‘Invited the members of cabinet and explained why I had resigned. It was quite obvious that the politicians are hell bent on disrupting the country, and besides, economic life was coming to a halt. Workers and even government officials had said goodbye to discipline. In any case, I could not sit on the dissolution of Pakistan by lawful or unlawful means. As a result of my resignation the governors, ministers etc. stand dismissed. I told someone jokingly that as a real general election had taken place I can see a leader for two governments in Pakistan will change [...]. I can’t see any politician of national outlook or stature rise for a long time to come. Besides democratic methods are foreign to our people.’

1 April 1969
‘Mr Suleri has written a penetrating article on the root causes of political maladies in Pakistan. I entirely agree with his diagnoses, but I don’t agree that the remedy suggested will draw much attention and bind people together. Islam, as propounded by the theologians, has ceased to be a living philosophy. It does not offer socio-economic satisfaction in an institutionalised form. Besides, the pull of parochialism and Bengali nationalism is so great that any remedy for constitution that does not take these actors into consideration is bound to fail.

I can claim this much credit that I succeeded in keeping the country together for the last ten years and made them do constructive thinking. That is no mean achievement. And if they had gone on like this for another ten years or so the country would have reached the takeoff stage and the people would have entered the scientific and technological spirit of the twentieth century. However, they decided to do otherwise, reject my system and run away from the path of progress and self-control. The result is that even the existence of the country is now in jeopardy. I hope and pray that God saves them from extracting due price for their folly.

Started for Swat where I intend staying with Naseem and Aurangzeb [daughter and son-in-law] some time before my house in Islamabad is ready for occupation. I hope to be able to rest, do some reading and have the opportunity of playing with my grandchildren. In any case Swat is a heavenly place to stay in and especially during the spring when the blossoms are out. Before leaving I met all the members of the household staff, thanked them for the service they have rendered me and assured them that my successor will take care of them. Most of them were in tears. It was inevitable. They had spent ten happy years with me and especially my wife took special care of them.

Reached Saidu Sharif midday, had lunch with the Wali, rested in the afternoon and went out for a walk. The Wali too had a spate of troubles starting with the students leading to defiance by some people whom he had nursed for so long. But it is all quiet now and people are coming to him in hoards owing allegiance. But the writing on the wall is clear. Personal rule is no longer fashionable in these times of individuals and agitations. He will be wise in making necessary changes and shedding power gradually before opposition mounts up.’

19 October 1969
‘Heard sad news this morning. Poor Nawab of Mamdot had died of heart failure. He was an old diabetic case. He was one of those who was in the vanguard of the struggle for Pakistan and suffered and sacrificed so much for the cause. May God bless his soul. I have sent a message of condolence to his wife and also asked Qasim to represent me at the funeral.

The Turkish ambassador came to deliver a reply from President Sunay and Premier Demirel to my message of congratulations on their recent electoral success. He said please let us know if there is anything we can do, we have a great regard for you and we do not change easily.

Wahiduzzaman is supposed to have told someone that Mujibur Rahmans plans are that on coming to power, he will make East Pakistan secede and declare independence, then negotiate non-aggression pact with India backed by USA and the Soviet Union. At the start, India will soon dominate East Pakistan if not physically occupy it. There are two dominant reasons. She wants East Pakistan’s jute and also the use of her waterways and the railway system for through communication to Nepal and Assam where, apart from requirement of vast trade, she needs these facilities for maintenance of the enormous army India keeps on that front. As to the expectations of American guarantees, it is nothing short of living in a fool’s paradise.’

2 December 1969
‘Shaukat Ali, son of Imran Khan, who was a friend of mine, came to see me. I had helped him to go to England to do his bar. He belongs to Dacca and was a close lieutenant of Maulana Bhashani. Now he has given him up and joined the Awami League. Talking about Bhashani, he said the old man is now 84. He had a prostrate gland operation sometime back, the doctors told him that he was good for another 20 years. I said that then God help East Pakistan. I am told that at the time of partition Nehru complained to Sir Sa’adullah of Shillong that Sylhet district was being divided and the major portion being handed over to Pakistan. He will see to its destruction. So there was no cause for worry. Bhashani has been the major disruptive actor in East Pakistan. He is an unprecedented rabble-rouser.

I understand that during the recent editors conference held by Yahya a question was asked why action was not taken against me. He replied that he had found nothing against me but if anybody has any evidence he could go to the court.

I asked my son Akhtar Ayub as to how will it do if Qayyum became the head of the Muslim League. He said that unless I was prepared to take active part in politics, the Muslim League would cease to exist. My supporters, out of consideration for me, will wait for a while, but soon they will seek alliance with others. Some will go to Daultana, others to Qayyum and so on. Most of them on the Frontier will follow Qayyum as he is the only plausible counter to the Red Shirts. Council League, through the influence of Daultana, would join them and there is a link between Mujib, Daultana and Wali Khan. Though by no means ideal, Qayyum is the lesser evil and the only alternative, so I have told him to sound out Qayyum on whether he is prepared to take the lead in the Muslim League.’

3 December 1969
‘Rashidi came to see me this morning. I particularly wanted to see him to give him a bit of my mind on scurrilous articles he had been writing about me. I reminded him of what I had done for him from time to time. I appointed him as an ambassador over the head of foreign office advice to the contrary. They told me that he was a man devoid of any character and utterly lacking in scruples. He was capable of selling the country and this proved right when we heard from several sources that he had been selling our cipher and committing many other irregularities. Later, when he returned to Pakistan, I saw to his maintenance from different sources. In return what do I get, abuse from him. He was ashamed of his conduct and tried to make lame excuses. He said he had taken the courage to call knowing that I will forgive him and so on.

Rashidi told me not to give up the Muslim League. Otherwise the field would be left free for my enemies to take their revenge on me when the assemblies come into being. The answer was to appoint a suitable vice president. He thought that Qayyum would be a liability. Yusuf Haroon, Sardar Bahadur or even Khuhro might do.

About the recent declaration of the president on constitutional matters he said he found an undercurrent of resentment in the Punjab on the break up of one unit. They feel that the cause of Pakistan has been damaged and the process of disintegration started. Whilst they had made so many sacrifices in the national interest they also feel that Bengalis and the smaller provinces are out to do Punjab down. This feeling can assume explosive proportions and there is no leader of any stature in the Punjab to hold it in check.

There is no hope of the constituent assembly succeeding. Rashidi did not see how agreement could be reached on burning issues like the system of voting, division of powers between the provinces and the centre and the second house. He was sure that there will be a breakdown and then what? Politicians will certainly be discredited.

Rashidi said that basically Bhutto is a fascist. He is power hungry and wants to misuse it and victimize people. He did a good deal of that when he was a minister. All this talk of socialism is nonsense. Sindhi Mahaz knows that and will do all in their power to see that he does not get elected from Larkana. He said that Bhutto had no chance in Larkana even if there were more than one seat in the district from the central assembly. I did not agree with that. If Khuhro is untouched in his seat, who else will compete with Bhutto. He said there is a man that is being groomed. Bhutto is asking Ghulam Mustafa Jatoi to vacate his seat for him, which is doubtful. He said the only other way Bhutto can come into power is by becoming a minister by getting around Yahya. Having done that he will turn on Yahya or he will incite young army officers to rise against Yahya. G. M. Syed told all this to Yahya. Yet Yahya sends a personal message to Bhutto when the recent scuffle took place with him in Sadiqabad. This is unheard of. Bhutto is going to make full use of it to build up his image and give credence to believe that the president is in his pocket. He said Bhutto is spending money lavishly. A large number of people are paid upwards of 500 each. Most of the press correspondents are paid. Where is he getting all this money from?

Rashidi, along with G. M. Syed and others, went to General Sher Ali [Pataudi], the minister for information. They complained that in spite of the martial law regulations, anti-lslamic and communist propaganda was being made in the press which is full of communist views. They were going to explain more but Sher Ali cut them short by saying that he has already countered 80 per cent of them, 10 per cent more are on the point of conversion and he is working on the rest. Seeing that the man’s mind was shut and he had his own make believe they decided to take leave and came away as it was no use continuing with the talk.

Some people are asking the president to make his position clear vis-a-vis the assembly. They expect him to act purely as a constitutional president. In other words, endorse what the assembly says and become ineffective.

Asghar Khan has announced today that he has decided to retire from active politics now that his limited mission of removing the corrupt and despotic regime has been achieved and a clear guarantee has been given by the president that elections will be held and democracy restored. He will watch its progress with interest.

This announcement may have been caused due to frustration with the politicians who, having used him during the upsurge, are now giving him no place in party hierarchy or it may be a trick to become neutral and be available for an office to any party that comes into power. It may also be due to realization that he has no hope of getting elected from anywhere. I think he has made soundings in many places without much hope of success. He and Bhutto would, of course, have liked to have seen the presidential system stay in which they saw chances of being selected as a candidate by one party or the other.

When Asghar Khan talks about having achieved limited objectives of mission he, in fact, together with Bhutto has done much more than that. They have between them laid the foundation of destruction of this country by playing on the sentiments of the people and misleading them.’

Sunday, May 7, 2017

A Highland diarist in Ireland

‘Christmas day. What a pity - I forgot teetotalism when I mixed the puddings, and not one of the outside men would taste them. Now when those unruly people have such self-command where they think it a sin to yield to temptation, is it not plain that properly educated they would be a fine and a moral race, almost equally plain that those thousand crimes they do commit they have not been taught to consider sins.’ This is from the delightful, but opinionated, diary of Elizabeth Smith, born, in Scotland, 120 years ago today. She moved with her Irish husband to manage and improve his landed estate in County Wicklow, and her diaries are considered literary but also important for what they reveal of Ireland’s social history before and after the potato famine in the mid-19th century.

Elizabeth Grant was born on 7 May 1797 in Edinburgh to Sir Peter Grant, a lawyer and MP, and his wife, Jane. Her childhood was spent mostly at the family estate of Rothiemurchus, Strathspey, and in London, with her education provided by governesses and tutors. In her mid-20s, she was writing, and earning money from, stories for magazines such as Fraser’s and for The Inspector: a Weekly Dramatic Paper. However, her father fell into debt and, in 1827, took his family to India where he had managed to secure himself a position as a judge in Bombay. While in India, in 1829, Elizabeth married the Irishman, Henry Smith. When he inherited a neglected estate, Baltiboys, in County Wicklow, they went to Ireland, to rebuild the house and develop the farms.

Elizabeth raised three children, and actively helped to manage and improve the estate. She also continued to supplement the family income by writing. She died in 1885. Her memoir of years spent in Scotland was edited and abridged by her niece, Lady Strachey, and first published, by John Murray, in 1897 as Memoirs of a Highland Lady. This has been reprinted many times over the years, and is freely available online at Corpus of Scottish Writing (1898 edition) and Internet Archive (1911 edition). There is much less information readily available about her married life and time in Ireland, but see Wikipedia, Am Baile, Highland history and culture, the Rothiemurchus website, or the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (log-in required).

From around 1840, Smith kept a diary, which she hoped would provide guidance and instruction for her children. Although she kept the diary until her death, the entries during the 1840s are considered particularly complete and informative. In 1980, the Clarendon Press published The Irish journals of Elizabeth Smith, 1840-1850: a selection, as edited by David Thomson with Moyra McGusty. Then, in 1991, Canongate Classics brought out a more complete edition of the diaries, under the title The Highland Lady in Ireland: Journals 1840-50 edited by Patricia Pelly (a great great granddaughter of the diarist) and Andrew Tod. This edition, however, omits the years from 1843 to 1845 when, in response to the Irish famine, the family moved to Paris. The publisher claims, ‘[Smith’s] sharp observations of all classes of society however, from corrupt landowners to the poor and often dissolute farm-workers, make this book a memorable and important chronicle of her times and a unique contribution to the social history of Ireland.’

According to Andrew Tod’s introduction, the diaries add to ‘the Highland lady’s reputation as an extremely distinguished diarist’, but also significantly help revise the historical picture of Irish landlordism, and give (after the family’s return from France) a day-to-day account of how the eastern part of Ireland coped with the challenges of the potato blight. Some pages of The Highland Lady in Ireland: Journals 1840-50, including the introduction, can be read online at Googlebooks. An excellent review of the diaries by Janet K. TeBrake can also be read at History Ireland.

Here are several extracts from Elizabeth Smith’s diaries.

6 February 1840
‘Very fine hunting morning, bright but cold. Had cold luncheon ready in the hall for the hunters, no one called in but the Doctor who made a good dinner and gave Janey and me a Latin lesson, and told us Lady Milltown was not well, complaining of no one ever calling on her, out of spirits. Her Lord complaining that she never dresses till near dinner-time, an idle slovenly habit she learned in France, never stirs out, she that used to be so active, he don’t know on earth what to do with her; so it must be for she has no pursuit. With that beautiful house [Russborough] full of the choicest works of art she has no pleasure in it but to see it now and then dusted, her fine family of children are no resource to her. She is incapable of assisting in their education. No reader, beyond a novel which only wearies the spirits, no worker.

And here let me remind you, dear little girls, of an old saying of dear Grandmama’s that a woman who had not pleasure in her needle was never happy, and very seldom good, it may sound a little forced but it is nevertheless perfectly true. A woman has so many solitary hours. Reading through all would be very far from profitable to her, a scientifick pursuit or a devotion to some particular art would withdraw her attention too much from these numberless little duties upon which the happiness of all around her depends.

Besides this want of occupation poor Lady Milltown has had the misfortune to yield to a vile, irritable, jealous, malicious temper which has alienated every friend, and of what avail to her is all her wit and her talent and her rank of which she is so vain now that she is getting old? The spirits that once carried her through are deserting her and she has nothing to replace them with, no one loves her, not even her children, I can’t excuse her failings though I make every allowance for her entire want of education, her early marriage to a profligate man, her later marriage to an unprincipled one, for she knows the right way, and won’t pursue it.’

9 July 1840
‘Your father says, dear children, that I shall quite frighten you into fancying your mother had been in her youth a monster of wickedness from the severity with which in mature age I have censured the follies and the flippancies of girlhood, for my indiscretions amounted to no more serious crime, bad enough. What can be more odious than a pert flirting girl, often betrayed by her giddiness into little better than a jilt. First of all inconsiderately entangled herself, then without reflecting on her duty to him whose whole object she had become or on her own feelings towards him, or on his character, or on the reasons urged against him; was easily frightened into giving him up, and weakly led to act a heartless part in affecting levity very ill timed and God knows very unlike the reality. The whole tale was melancholy, none acted rightly and each I believe suffered for it. Let it rest with the Dead.’

24 October 1840
‘The Doctor was quite agitated yesterday in telling us of a most shocking piece of negligence - worse - neglect of positive duty in our Vicar and Curate. A girl thirteen years of age, for whom they are receiving an annuity from the County, allowed to live among papists, unacquainted with the nature of an oath, remembered two years ago to have said some prayers, etc. This shocks him and others because it came before them in a Court of Justice, where her testimony could not be received by the magistrates on account of her ignorance; but I could rake up fifty such cases or such like, where the total inattention of our clergy is every day increasing evils that a generation of better care will not eradicate. And people wonder that the reformed religion does not spread here. I wonder it is tolerated - it seems to fail to produce even in gentlemen an idea of their duty. What effect can it have on the poor. Mr. Moore is greatly more culpable than Mr. Foster - he knows his duty, which the other poor creature really does not - poor Ireland!’

25 December 1840
‘Christmas day. What a pity - I forgot teetotalism when I mixed the puddings, and not one of the outside men would taste them. Now when those unruly people have such self-command where they think it a sin to yield to temptation, is it not plain that properly educated they would be a fine and a moral race, almost equally plain that those thousand crimes they do commit they have not been taught to consider sins.’

1 April 1841
‘Mr. Murray is to be buried to-morrow, there is no idea who will be the new agent, Lord Downshire not being a man of any attachments except to his purse. Tom Murray heard he meant merely to keep a common bailiff here at an inferiour salary. Ogle Moore has written to ask for the house. Will it be given? Will Mrs. Moore like coming in to play parson’s wife in the village so many miles farther from the gaieties of Dublin and nearer to clerical duties.’

The Diary Junction

Thursday, May 4, 2017

See maggots squirming

‘It is now as hot and sultry as it was ever my lot to witness. The cloudy weather and recent rains make everything damp and sticky. Wo don’t any of us sweat though, particularly, as we are pretty well dried up. Laying on the ground so much, has made sores on nearly every one here, and in many cases gangrene sets in, and they are very bad off. Have many sores on my body, but am careful to keep away the poison. To-day saw a man with a bullet hole in his head over an inch deep, and you could look down in it and see maggots squirming around at the bottom.’ This is from the astonishingly graphic diary of John L. Ransom, a Union Army soldier who was imprisoned by the Confederates during the Civil War at Andersonville. Although, initially, Ransom self-published the diary, it has long since been considered a primary source of information about the war and thus been reprinted many times, most recently by Dover Publications.

Ransom was born in Conneaut, Ohio, to Zebina and Mary Ransom, in 1843. While still in his teens, he began working as a printer for the Citizen (a predecessor of the Citizen Patriot), a newspaper based in Jackson, Michigan. In 1862, he joined the 9th Michigan Cavalry, part of the Union Army, becoming a quartermaster sergeant with Company A. However, in 1863, he was captured by the Confederates, and confined at Belle Isle, a Confederate prison on a small island in James River, near Richmond, Virginia. Some three months later, he was taken on a week-long train ride, for incarceration at a new prison in Andersonville, Georgia. Conditions there were appalling, with overcrowding, lack of food, bad water, disease; nearly a third of 45,000 prisoners died.

After around six months, during which time his weight had fallen from a little over 11 stone to six and a half stone, Ransom was transferred to the Marine Hospital at Savannah. There, he recovered, and eventually managed to escape, rejoining his unit in December 1864. After the war, he returned to work for the Citizen, which serialised a diary he had kept during his time in prison. He married twice, once to Eliza Finette Holway, who bore him a daughter, Katherine, and then, after Eliza’s death, he married Frances Wendell. He live in Auburn, New York, for a while, and also Chicago, where he died in 1919. There is very little biographical information about Ransom readily available online, but see MLive, Spartacus or a message board at Ancestry.

The diary kept by Ransom while in Anderson prison and then serialised by his newspaper was first published in its own right (privately, by Ransom himself), in 1881, as Andersonville Diary: Escape and List of the Dead (freely available at Internet Archive). Here is Ransom’s own introduction.

‘The book to which these lines form an introduction is a peculiar one in many respects. It is a story, but it is a true story, and written years ago with little idea that it would ever come into this form. The writer has been induced, only recently, by the advice of friends and by his own feeling that such a production would be appreciated, to present what, at the time it was being made up, was merely a means of occupying a mind which had to contemplate, besides, only the horrors of a situation from which death would have been, and was to thousands, a happy relief.

The original diary in which these writings were made from day to day was destroyed by fire some years after the war, but its contents had been printed in a series of letters to the Jackson, (Mich.) Citizen, and to the editor and publisher of that journal thanks are now extended for the privilege of using his files for the preparation of this work. There has been little change in the entries in the diary, before presenting them here. In such cases the words which suggest themselves at the time are best - they cannot be improved upon by substitution at a later day.

This book is essentially different from any other that has been published concerning the “late war” or any of its incidents. Those who have had any such experience as the author will see its truthfulness at once, and to all other readers it is commended as a statement of actual things by one who experienced them to the fullest. The annexed list of the Andersonville dead is from the rebel official records, is authentic, and will be found valuable in many pension cases and otherwise.’

Since its original publication, Ransom’s diary has become a primary source for US Civil War researchers, and has been reprinted many times, most recently in March 2017 by Dover Publications with the title John Ransom’s Civil War Diary: Notes from Inside Andersonville, the Civil War’s Most Notorious Prison (available to preview at Amazon). The Dover publication is an unabridged copy of Ransom’s original with one exception: it does not contain the 100 odd pages listing (in small print) the tens of thousands of names of those buried at Andersonville. Here are several extracts from the diary.

4 June 1864
‘Have not been dry for many days. Raining continually. Some men took occasion, while out after wood, to overpower the guard and take to the pines. Not yet been brought back. Very small rations of poor molasses, corn bread and bug soup.’

13 June 1864
‘It is now as hot and sultry as it was ever my lot to witness. The cloudy weather and recent rains make everything damp and sticky. Wo don’t any of us sweat though, particularly, as we are pretty well dried up. Laying on the ground so much, has made sores on nearly every one here, and in many cases gangrene sets in, and they are very bad off. Have many sores on my body, but am careful to keep away the poison. To-day saw a man with a bullet hole in his head over an inch deep, and you could look down in it and see maggots squirming around at the bottom. Such things are terrible, but of common occurrence. Andersonville seems to be head-quarters for all the little pests that ever originated - flies by the thousand millions. I have got into one bad scrape, and the one thing now is to get out of it. Can do nothing but take as good care of myself as possible, which I do. Battese works all the time at something. Has scrubbed his hands sore, using sand for soap.’

15 June 1864
‘I am sick; just able to drag around. My teeth are loose, mouth sore, with gums grown down in some places lower than the teeth and bloody, legs swollen up with dropsy, and on the road to the trenches. Where there is so much to write about, I can hardly write anything. It’s the same old story, and must necessarily be repetition. Raiders now do just as they please, kill, plunder and steal in broad daylight, with no one to molest them. Have been trying to organize a police force, but cannot do it. Raiders are the stronger party. Ground covered with maggots. Lice by the fourteen hundred thousand million infest Andersonville. A favorite game among the boys is to play at odd or even, by putting their hand inside some part of their clothing, pull out, what they can conveniently get hold of and say: “Odd or even?” and then count up and see who beats. Think this is an original game here. Never saw it at the North. Some of the men claim to have pet lice, which they have trained. Am gradually growing worse. Nothing but the good care I have taken of myself, has saved me thus far. I hope to last some time yet, and in the mean time, relief may come. My diary about written through. It may end about the same time I do, which would be a fit ending.’

2 July 1864
‘Almost the Glorious Fourth of July. How shall we celebrate? Know of no way except to pound on the bake tin, which I shall do. Have taken to rubbing my limbs, which are gradually becoming more dropsical. Badly swollen. One of my teeth came out a few days ago, and all are loose. Mouth very sore. Battese says: “We get away yet.” Works around and always busy. If any news, he merely listens and don’t say a word. Even he is in poor health, but never mentions it. An acquaintance of his says he owns a good farm in Minnesota. Asked him if he was married - says: “Oh, yes.” Any children? “Oh, yes.” This is as far as we have got his history. Is very different from Indians in general. Some of them here are despisable cowards - worse than the negro. Probably one hundred negroes are here. Not so tough as the whites. Dead line being fixed up by the Rebels. Got down in some places. Bought a piece of soap, first I have seen in many months. Swamp now in frightful condition, from the filth of camp. Vermin and raiders have the best of it. Captain Moseby still leads the villains.’

6 July 1864
‘Boiling hot, camp reeking with filth, and no sanitary privileges; men dying off over a hundred and forty per day. Stockade enlarged, taking in eight or ten more acres, giving us more room and stumps to dig up for wood to cook with. Mike Hoare is in good health; not so Jimmy Devers. Jimmy has now been a prisoner over a year, and poor boy, will probably die soon. Have more mementoes than I can carry, from those who have died, to be given to their friends at home. At least a dozen have given me letters, pictures &c., to take North. Hope I shan’t have to turn them over to some one else.’

9 July 1864
‘Battese brought me some onions, and if they ain’t good, then no matter; also a sweet potato. One-half the men here would get well if they only had something in the vegetable line to eat, or acids. Scurvy is about the most loathsome disease, and when dropsy takes hold with the scurvy, it is terrible. I have both diseases, but keep them in check, and it only grows worse slowly. My legs are swollen, but the cords are not contracted much, and I can still walk very well. Our mess all keep clean, in fact, are obliged to, or else turned adrift. We want none of the dirty sort in our mess. Sanders and Rowe enforce the rules, which is not much work, as all hands are composed of men who prefer to keep clean. I still do a little washing, but more particularly hair cutting, which is easier work. You should see one of my hair cuts. Nobby! Old prisoners have hair a foot long or more, and my business is to cut it off, which I do without regards to anything except to get it off. I should judge that there are one thousand Rebel soldiers guarding us, and perhaps a few more, with the usual number of officers. A guard told me to-day that the Yanks were “gittin licked,” and they didn’t want us exchanged, just as soon we should die here as not. A Yank. asked him if he knew what exchange meant; said he knew what shootin’ meant, and as he began to swing around his old shooting-iron, we retreated in among the crowd. Heard that there were some new men belonging to my regiment in another part of the prison; have just returned from looking after them, and am all tired out. Instead of belonging to the 9th Michigan Cavalry, they belong to the 9th Michigan Infantry. Had a good visit and quite cheered with their accounts of the war news. Some one stole Battese’s wash board, and he is mad; is looking for it - may bust up the business. Think Hub Dakin will give me a board to make another one. Sanders owns the jack-knife of this mess, and he don’t like to lend it either; borrow it to carve on roots for pipes. Actually take solid comfort “building castles in the air,” a thing I have never been addicted to before. Better than getting blue and worrying myself to death. After all, we may get out of this dodrotted hole. Always an end of some sort to such things.’

22 July 1864
‘A petition is gotten up, signed by all Sergeants in the prison, to be sent to Washington, D. C., begging to be released. Captain Wirtz has consented to let three representatives go for that purpose. Rough that it should be necessary for us to beg to be protected by our Government.’

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

An extraordinary ordinary woman

‘Cloudy. Mrs Heath died this day. Finished my web. Sewing until 2 o’clock. They have a dance to the other house. My husband is there. Oh that he were at home attending prayers with his family but alas there is no hopes for such things.’ This is typical of the matter-of-fact diary kept by Phebe Orvis, a young American, during the early part of her life in the 1820s. The diary has just been published for the first time, by Excelsior Editions, an imprint of State University of New York Press, and is considered to provide a ‘unique perspective of domestic life in northern New England as well as upstate New York in the early nineteenth century’.

Orvis was born in Vermont in 1801, the fourth child and first daughter of Quaker settlers. However, her mother died within a few months, and she was brought up in the comfortable and educated household of her grandparents in Bristol village (where she remained even after her father remarried). As an adolescent, she did housework, read a lot, wrote to family and friends, but also earned money sewing and spinning for local merchants and neighbours. Thus, she was able to enrol in Willard’s female seminary, in Middlebury, in 1820.

For most of 1821, Orvis went to live in Parishville, the western frontier of New York State, at the behest of her uncle and aunt. But, on her return to Bristol, and after much soul-searching, she gave in to the courting of Samuel Eastman. They married in early 1823, and went back to Parishville to develop farm land. Over the ensuing years, she successfully raised ten children to adulthood. While her husband immersed himself in the local Baptist group, she resisted membership of the church preferring to hold on to her Quaker ideals, though without much Quaker society around her. Very little more is known about Orvis, who died aged 67, or Eastman, though they were buried side by side in the Parishville Baptist cemetery.

Without doubt, the only reason Orvis is remembered today is because for ten years, from 1820 to 1830 or so (and for very brief periods in 1855 and 1859), she kept a diary which has survived to the present day. This seems to have been more through luck than any safeguarding by her descendants: the diary was found at an auction in a tattered old box of random books in the 1960s and passed to a local historian, Mary Smallman. Over the years, Smallman transcribed the diary, and researched Orvis’s life as well as she could; eventually, she donated the manuscript to the Saint Lawrence County Historical Association.

Susan M Ouelette, professor of history at St Michael’s College (Colchester, Vermont), has recently edited the diary for publication by Excelsior Editions, an imprint of State University of New York Press, with the title, An Extraordinary Ordinary Woman: The Journal of Phebe Orvis, 1820 -1830. In her book, Ouelette provides a wealth of additional material, in the form of essays, references and maps. The publisher claims ‘this combination of analytical essays and primary source material offers readers a unique perspective of domestic life in northern New England as well as upstate New York in the early nineteenth century.’ In particular, Ouellette finds much in the diary to illuminate, what is known as, the Second Great Awakening (a Protestant revival movement which was peaking in the 1820s). Some years ago, in 2009, she published Religion and Piety in the Journal of Phebe Orvis in Vermont History magazine (Volume 77, No. 1).

Susan M. Ouellette says in her introduction to the new book: ‘What sets Orvis apart - even now in the twenty-first century - is her diary. The manuscript she left behind is a lens into the intimate details of Orvis’s life, but also into another age. Although the diary is sometimes formulaic with obscure and even cryptic passages at times, it is also a charming and honest account of her days. It is not literature; rather, it is typical of the type of daybook kept by many individuals - men and women - of Orvis’s time. Most of her entries begin with a short - sometimes one-word - description of the weather. This observation is often followed by a list of her daily work, social events, and other details that captured her notice that day. It is not organized in a true narrative form, except that it is chronological. For most of the diary the text moves along in fits and starts and is riddled with unfinished, coded language that made sense to the writer, but not necessarily to a casual reader. So, to follow Orvis’s story, a reader must use imagination and make certain leaps of faith to tease out the details. On the other hand, the sum of her prose tells Orvis’s story. And, her feelings - secret and acknowledged - peep coyly from underneath the somewhat terse wording.’

In her conclusion, Ouellette notes: ‘Orvis ended her life in the same gentle, unassuming way she lived. Because of this comfortable anonymity, except for the historical accident that preserved Orvis’s written words, we would never have known anything about her life. Even with those documents we know only a fraction of her life, and even this is imperfectly understood. And we know only an outline of her later experiences, although official records fill in some of the gaps.’ Here are several extracts, with thanks to Excelsior Editions, from The Journal of Phebe Orvis.

29 November 1820
‘Attended school this forenoon not able to compose. Drew a short extract. returned to Dr.’s. distracted with the sick headache together with the toothache not able to get up[.] after puking and taking Essence felt more relieved[.] Esq Hoyt, Miss Sarah Matticke of Montpelier. Miss Delia Hoyt called this eve to see me, hearing that I was out of health. after soaking my feet and taking more essence, retired.’

10 December 1820
‘Snow of considerable depth. returned to Newhaven. heard Mr. Hopkins preach from Ezekiel Thirty-third. Eleventh . . . Turn ye, Turn ye, why will ye die O house of Israel. saw Miss Sylphina Hanchet at Mrs. Phelps. insisted upon my visiting her at Mrs. Spragues, East Street. Miss Maria W[ilcox]. insisted on my spending the night with her. I did. my old tooth threatened to jump out of my head.’

16 November 1821
‘Finished the kersey. put in a Cotton web for Dr. Sprague. he extracted a tooth for me. came very hard, the only one remaining. glad to get rid of it.’

19 December 1821
‘Cold and windy. Mrs. D[urfey] gone all day. Mr. D[urfey] this eve at Mr. Chester Rockwell’s did the wash. Twisted and washed ten knots of yarn. pieced the outside of a quilt. Mr. E[astman, Jr.] called. I spent the eve alone excepting the children. Retired at twelve.’

6 February 1822
‘Stormy. began to find myself on the road to Vermont. eight sleighs in company. rode eight miles to Oliverts. prepared breakfast for the whole. in good spirits rode ten miles to Robinson’s, ten miles to Bankers. left Bird and Eastman. rode six miles to Gordon’s, Plattsburg village. crossed on Cumberland head. snowed so we could scarcely perceive the Bushes in the cracks put up at Fletcher’s on the Grand Isle. prepared tea. visited late with the Ladies. they were preparing for Installation tomorrow.’

10 March 1822
‘Pleasant. hard cough ventured to cross the poles alone. Lucinda accompanied me to meeting. Mr. A. preached from these words: Behold how they love one another A.M. Adam where art thou, P.M. introduced to Miss Sally Cowan. Saw my dear friend and correspondent Abigail Lewis. she returned and spent the night with me. she has been very sick. she could not enjoy herself as I could wish. the place I had chosen for pleasure was where her sister was drowned. wet, muddy.’

16 May 1822
‘Arose and visited the springs before light. drank some water from Saratoga. Cut out the skirt of my white frock.’

30 June 1824
‘Very warm. spun some. very drowsy took a walk to the Mill. went out on the raft fishing. caught none. headache.’

19 October 1824
‘Cold. The harvest is past, the summer is ended and we are not secure.’

2 December 1824
‘Smoaky. Air. wove some. my Babe has one tooth cut through[.] gets up by chair.’

10 June 1826
‘Pleasant. Mr. Converse[’s] son died of the measles today, yet we go on to sin[.]’

13 September 1826
‘Cloudy. Mrs Heath died this day. Finished my web. Sewing until 2 o’clock. They have a dance to the other house. My husband is there. Oh that he were at home attending prayers with his family but alas there is no hopes for such things.’

16 September 1826
‘Pleasant. Mr. Wing died today of a Consumption. Baked[.]’

13 May 1827
‘Pleasant. Visited Mrs. Converse, I think she can live but a little longer. A child of Mr. Tupper’s buried today. Headache.’

19 October 1827
‘More pleasant. Very unable to do anything, but I have a shelter for my little ones, food and clothing. What more can I ask.’

Monday, May 1, 2017

Diary briefs

Diaries: good for memory? - The Telegraph

The journals of Dan Eldon - Chronicle BooksAmazon

Diary of the last Tsar’s lover - Daily Mail

Tina Brown’s diaries to be published - USA Today

The British Army in Flanders - EER, In Flanders Fields Museum

New BBC drama on Anne Lister - Mail Online, The Sun

The War Diaries of Maud Russell - Dovecote Press, The Spectator

‘Dear Diary’ exhibition at King’s - King’s English, Evening Standard

Grandad’s War - Poppyland Publishing, Daily Mail

Shipwreck diary auctioned - Bishop and Miller, Bury Free Press

A Jew in Hiding in Warsaw - Haaretz

Victor Hugo diary auctioned - The Guardian

The Journal of Jean Chevalier - The Idea Works

Kiwi soldiers diaries stolen? - Stuff

Friday, April 28, 2017

The Irish Difficulty

William Joseph O’Neill Daunt, a staunch follower of Daniel O’Connell, the so-called Liberator, who advocated repeal of the union with Great Britain, was born 210 years ago today. Although a modest, somewhat reclusive man, ‘too scrupulous to be a successful politician’, he did make a significant contribution to the home rule movement and towards disestablishment of the Irish church. His diaries - kept through four decades - show a lively and literary mind, perhaps more content writing letters to newspapers in his later years, than as an activist.

William Joseph O’Neill Daunt was born in Tullamore, King’s County (now Offaly County) on 28 April 1807, the son of Joseph Daunt and Jane Wilson. In 1828, he broke with his family to convert to Catholicism. A protégé of Daniel O’Connell, he was a Member of Parliament for Mallow between 1832 and 1833, but was unseated by a petition. He was a charter member of the Repeal Association, set up by O’Connell, for a repeal of the Act of Union between Great Britain and Ireland. In 1839, he married Ellen Hickey, and they had two children. They lived at Kilcascan, Ballineer, County Cork.

In 1841-1842, Daunt was O’Connell’s secretary while the latter was lord mayor of Dublin. He collaborated with others to found the Irish weekly nationalist newspaper, Nation, and occasionally contributed to it, though later he distanced himself from it and the radical Young Ireland movement. After O’Connell’s death, Daunt retired from politics. However, in the mid-1850s, he helped to found the Irish church disestablishment movement, and campaigned regularly through to 1869 when the Disestablishment Act became law. He also supported Home Rule, which he viewed as the best likely outcome for Ireland short of full repeal of the union. Daunt died in 1894. Further brief biographical details can be found at The Peerage and Ricorso.

In his entry on Daunt for the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (log-in required), D. M. Cregier, concludes: ‘Too introverted and reclusive, and possibly too scrupulous to be a successful politician, Daunt was nevertheless important as a link between the repeal and home-rule movements, and as an observer and chronicler of Irish nationalist politics for over sixty years. His unpublished journals and letters to scores of correspondents, as well as his many published works, are major historical sources, significant for their factual accuracy and broadmindedness.’

Daunt wrote several books on Irish politics and history (as well as a few novels under the pseudonym Denis Ignatius Moriarty). His Essays on Ireland (1888), freely available at Internet Archive, includes an essay entitled The Irish Difficulty. Here’s a sample: ‘For eighty-five years we have been subjected to English legislation, a length of time sufficient to test the effect on Ireland of the legislative union; and at the end of that long period we find our country disturbed by conspiracies; great portions of its revenue, public and private, exported to England; its inhabitants divided into hostile classes; whole districts swept by occasional famines; bitter discontent developing into  horrible crimes; manufacturing industry brought so low, that only about 80,000 persons in a population that still amounts to 5,000,000 are engaged in it; multitudes flying to America in pursuit of that prosperity which at home they have failed to acquire beneath the rule of an alien legislature, and bearing with them into exile deep and ineradicable hatred of the system that has stripped their native land of the means God had given for their support.’

Two years after Daunt’s death, in 1896, his daughter, Alice, edited selections from his diaries (40 years worth) which were published by T. Fisher Unwin (London) as A Life Spent for Ireland: Being Selections from the Journals of the late W. J. O’Neill Daunt. Alice writes in her introduction: ‘Mr Daunt’s character stands pretty well revealed through the pages of his diary. He was upright and honourable, unalterably true to his political and religious principles, and to his private friendships. His simplicity was that of a child; he could scarcely be brought to believe evil of anyone, without at least overwhelming proofs. His estimation of himself was a very humble one, and therefore he was quite free from those petty jealousies and spites that sometimes disfigure the career of public men. His urbanity and gentleness were charming, his sweetness of character and manner increasing the more helpless, physically, he grew. Latterly he became very lame and feeble, and moved with difficulty, although he came downstairs daily about two o’clock. The end came very unexpectedly.’

Here are some extracts from Daunt’s A Life Spent for Ireland.


29 March 1847
‘In the midst of sharp privations of various kinds, I this day rode to Clonakilty to borrow money at the bank to pay the tithes to the Protestant minister. I have sometimes dined on Indian meal porridge and sheep’s milk, sometimes on a pennyworth of rice, and gone supperless to bed. Of this I do not complain, for it is caused by a visitation of Providence. But of the Established Church I do complain, for it is the visitation of England, not of Providence. . .’

31 January 1851
‘For a fortnight nothing has occurred to diversity the monotony of existence. Planting, thinning, and pruning as usual, and teaching my daughter to read, spell, etc.

2 February 1858
‘Bought a horse . . . from Curly Crowley for £18. He told me he could have got £2 more from a sporting gentleman in our neighbourhood. “You would have got his promise,” said I, “but you know he is not the best pay.” “Och, I wouldn’t care for that,” returned Crowley, “for he couldn’t keep me out of the money beyond the next quarter sessions, and the cost of the process would be only five shillings.” There was something very ‘Irish’ in this notion of selling a horse on the security of a lawsuit with the purchaser. . .’

17 February 1858
‘Visit from C_, who seems to have found the fairy cap. Recently a hamper of wine was sent to him by an anonymous donor, and a friend, who is not a relation, has written to offer him the gift of a large sum of money. . .  He tells me that when his brother was appointed rector of D_, Father Creedon, whom the previous rector had tormented with souperism, asked him to abstain from interference with the Catholics. His reverence answered, “I’ll get every man of them to come to my church if I can; but I won’t give them so much as a potato for coming.” Creedon was quite satisfied with this, well knowing that, bribery apart, there would be no conversions.’

25 July 1859
‘My pugnacious youngster came in to-day with his face streaming blood from a blow of a stone near the eye. . . It was almost impossible to get him to tell who hit him. “It is done now,” said he, “and what does it matter who did it?” He took the matter very philosophically, saying that “in our course through life we must expect to meet accidents.” . . .’

3 September 1859
‘Letter from Scott, who tells a story of Father Strickland, S.J., recently returned from India, where he learned to wear a long beard kept trimmed to a point. While preaching a few days since in Sligo, he observed that an old woman was greatly affected, and shed tears. He ascribed her emotion to his sermon, and seeing that she still retained her place when the congregation had dispersed, he went to her and . . . inquired the cause of her tears. She looked up wistfully at his beard, and sobbed out, “Och, it’s bekaise your riverence reminds me powerful of my poor ould goat that died last week.” Father Strickland came away more amused than flattered.’

26 September 1859
‘Arthur O’Connor came here. It seems that his Uncle Feargus made a will leaving Arthur everything he had. The legatee is slightly puzzled to discover whether everything means anything or nothing. I incline to the latter interpretation. . . When I was about six or seven years old, a certain countess, whom my mother took me to visit, pronounced me to be “a handsome boy with a bad countenance.” I do not name her ladyship, who was said to have scared Lord C_ into marrying her, by threatening to stab herself in the event of his refusing to accompany her into Hymen’s temple. She was a very clever woman . . . could be very captivating and very disagreeable. In old age she still clung to the vanities of youth. I have seen her, when more than fourscore, with a bare neck, an enormous sable wig, curled into multitudinous ringlets, and surmounted by a fantastic little pink satin hat, that contrasted strongly with her old, withered, wrinkled, toothless, haggard visage. . .’

3 August 1864
‘Returned home. . .  Found a card of invitation to the banquet to come off in the Rotundo on the 8th inst., on the occasion of laying the foundation stone of the O’Connell monument. . . I am pledged to attend the contemplated Repeal meeting whenever it is held, and one political trip to Dublin will be quite enough for me just now.’

9 August 1864
‘Letter from John Martin, asking permission to nominate me one of the Repeal Directory of five. . .’

8 September 1864
‘The Times not having printed my recent letter on the Viceroyalty and the State Church, Mr Carvell Williams sent a copy of it to the Morning Star, in last Thursday’s issue of which it occupies a prominent place.’

9 September 1864
‘The Times has printed my letter, though somewhat of the latest. . .

10 September 1864
‘Letter from the Archbishop of Cashel warmly congratulating me on my letter. . .’

30 September 1864
‘The Times has published four letters of mine. The last was in reply to a Mr W. J. Lawson, who attacked some of my statements on Irish finance and its mismanagement. . .’

24 October 1864
‘The stir we have made about Irish fiscal wrongs has compelled the Government to issue a tract in self-defence. This is a report to the Viceroy by Dr Neilson Hancock on the public accounts between Great Britain and Ireland, and it is precisely such a combination of balderdash, falsehood and impudence as might have been expected, reply. . .’

24 January 1886
‘Letter from Lady F. Dixie, announcing the gracious reception by the Prince of Wales of my article on The Irish Difficulty.’

30 January 1886
‘Parnell and his party have turned out the Tory Government. . .’

16 February 1886
‘Accompanied my son to Dunmanway, where he, as a magistrate, had to register claims to vote for Poor Law Guardians. One of the claimants was a fine old relic of the last century, aged 97; he remembers the French fleet in Bantry Bay. . .’

12 April 1886
‘On the 8th Gladstone made his speech, introducing the measure of Home Rule for Ireland; a speech of splendid eloquence. It occupied three hours and twenty-five minutes. He deserves gratitude for this attempt to solve the old international quarrel. . .’

Monday, April 24, 2017

The Gray Eminence

‘Well, Bismarck’s foreign policy has suffered its first setback. We have meekly accepted a slap in the face from Spain and are retiring from the fray. Other people will be encouraged by this example.’ This is from the diary of Friedrich von Holstein, or the ‘Gray Eminence’ as he was sometimes known, born 180 years ago today. His career was nurtured by Otto von Bismarck, the Prussian statesman who dominated European affairs in the second half of the 19th century, but after Bismarck’s downfall, Holstein’s influence over Germany’s foreign policy grew, though he was unable to temper Emperor Wilhelm II’s impetuous policies.

Holstein was born on the family’s estate in Pomerania, in the Kingdom of Prussia, on 24 April 1837, the son of a military officer. He was a sickly child, tutored at home mostly, but the family travelled much, often to Berlin, and he became fluent in several languages. After studying at the Frederick William University of Berlin, he joined the diplomatic service. In 1860, he was assigned to the Prussian embassy in St. Petersburg where Otto von Bismarck, a family friend, was ambassador. Postings to Rio de Janeiro, London, Washington, Florence, and Copenhagen followed before Bismarck recalled him to Germany, during the Franco-German War, to help negotiate with the Italians.

After peace with France, and the establishment of the German Empire in 1871, Holstein served in Paris under the German ambassador, Harry von Arnim, who was opposed to Bismarck’s support of a republican France. When Arnim was disgraced, some claimed Holstein had been spying for Bismarck. Holstein was recalled to Berlin, where his experience and networks allowed him - as political secretary to the foreign office - to exert significant behind-the-scenes influence, not only over foreign policy but domestic policy too. He declined several diplomatic posts, which would have brought him advancement, and an offer to become head of the foreign office. Over time, he became increasingly opposed to Bismarck’s policies, especially his wish for alignment with Russia, believing in closer ties with Austria and Britain.

After 1890, following Bismarck’s dismissal, Holstein’s influence, under the inexperienced new chancellor Leo von Caprivi (to whom he advised against renewal of the Russian treaty), only increased, as it did under subsequent chancellors, Chlodwig von Hohenlohe-Schillingsfürst and Bernhard von Bülow. Indeed, Holstein, famously, became known as the ‘Gray Eminence’. pedalling his authority behind the scenes. However - as Encyclopædia Britannica points out - the most important policies in the years after Bismarck were largely inspired by Kaiser Wilhelm II without much consultation of the government, and Holstein, who saw folly in them, was powerless to oppose the sovereign. Holstein never married; he died, in relative poverty, in 1909. Further information can also be found at Wikipedia or by previewing a biography by Norman Rich at Googlebooks.

Cambridge University Press first published The Holstein Papers in English in the 1960s. Volume 2 of the series reproduces a substantial selection of  Holstein’s diaries as edited by Norman Rich and M. H. Fisher; this was republished most recently in 2011. The publisher states: ‘Friedrich von Holstein was Bismarck’s subordinate at the German Foreign Office. Since his death historians have combined to make him a monster of sinister and self-seeking policy. A selection of his Nachlass [literary remains], which was first published in volume form between 1955 and 1963, is presented here. The original effect of this publication prompted an entire re-judgement of Bismarck, of German foreign policy at that time and since, and of Holstein himself. Though he had been advised by Bismarck that it was indiscreet to keep a diary, Holstein began to do so in the 1880s, and passed the pages to a cousin as they were completed up to 1886, when they died out. This diary (Volume 2) gives an incomparable fresh and direct description of life in the German foreign ministry at the time as well as Holstein’s own mordant comments on the general trend of international politics.’

Here are several extracts.

28 March 1881
‘[…] The trouble about politics is that you can never be certain when your policy has been correct. Perhaps our policy after 1866 was in fact mistaken. The Federal Diet had greater means of checking revolutionary movements and tendencies to disaffection in individual states than the modern Reich with its Federal Council and its Reichstag. […]’

7 September 1885
‘Well, Bismarck’s foreign policy has suffered its first setback. We have meekly accepted a slap in the face from Spain and are retiring from the fray. Other people will be encouraged by this example.’

18 October 1885
‘[…] I had advised Hohenlohe to replace Hofmann, the State Secretary, by Puttkamer, the Under State Secretary, as soon as possible and in addition to appoint a vigorous senior Landrat as his Chef de Cabinet. I enclose his evasive reply. If he retains the present stick-in-the-mud he will do badly, but I wash my hands in innocence. […]’

24 October 1885
‘In the enclosed letter, Radolinski bids me state that the Crown Princess has expressed the wish to see Hatzfeldt before his departure for London. She wants to win him over to supporting Battenberg, and will probably promise to receive and reinstate Countess Hatzfeldt provided Hatzfeldt keeps Battenberg in Bulgaria. His official duty will more likely be the exact opposite. The Chancellor is perfectly prepared to oblige the Russians by supporting their policy in Bulgaria; on the other hand he will not be at all sorry if the English adopt a stiffer attitude which involves them in a quarrel with the Russians. Hatzfeldt can to that extent oblige both sides, however odd that may sound.

In my reply to Radolinski I said I was a man of too little account to pass on such a request, and anyway I thought it probable that Hatzfeldt would in any case be recalled to Berlin to receive his instructions. I shall take care not to get my finger crushed between these two millstones; I saw in the spring where that leads to. But the Crown Prince and Princess seem to have picked on me for that very purpose. Besides Radolinski, Sommerfeld also reproached me recently for not making any advances to the Crown Prince and Princess and said I owed it to my position. We shall see which side is the more obstinate.

The Crown Princess told Radolinski that Battenberg could perfectly well become King of Bulgaria now, which would make things easier for the marriage. Had he not behaved magnificently and heroically? And the young Princess had confessed to her mother in Venice that if anything happened to him she would jump into a canal. ‘Fancy my poor child jumping into a canal’, said her mother to Radolinski, with tears in her eyes.

The whole thing is rather amusing. Far more serious is Herbert’s increasingly apparent inclination towards Russia and aversion to Austria. The son is not a trapeze artist like his father, who constantly kept the balance between them. Whereas the father’s preferences may privately lie with Russia, the son makes no attempt to conceal his feelings. If this is not changed we shall in a couple of years have not a Three Emperors’ Alliance, but a Two Emperors’ Alliance, and Austria will seek support elsewhere. That will certainly not accord with the Crown Prince’s policy.

I fail to understand the Chancellor at the moment. Three months ago, when the Kaiser was so feeble. His Highness spoke of the need for a political volte-face, and consequently dropped France and turned to England. But if we now consistently ill-treat Austria to please Russia, that will hardly be a change of policy which will suit the next Kaiser.

I heard again yesterday how completely out of favour Herbert is with the Crown Prince and Princess. Two days ago they gave a dance for Princess Wilhelm. When Their Imperial Highnesses saw Herbert’s name on the list of guests, they said: ‘Oh no, we don’t want him; we’d better just invite people from Potsdam.’ ’

1 December 1885
‘No one could say that our foreign service is now being efficiently run. To-day, for example, we are still without news of the terms laid down by Bulgaria for the conclusion of peace. The terms are printed in the newspapers already. Our representatives abroad are cowed, and yet it occurs to no one at this end to tell them occasionally which problem or which object should occupy their attention.

The Chancellor’s ideas have lost all coherence - he changes his mind overnight. During the recent colonial debate he began by saying it was legalistic casuistry to regard the German colonies as foreign territory. But the previous day he had written with his own hand in the margin of a document: ‘The colonies are foreign territory.’

The trouble is not that he sometimes confuses or forgets things - any one else would do the same - but that no one dares to point out his mistakes.

The Chancellor told Bleichröder that it would be our duty to collaborate more with England now. And yet Salisbury tells Hatzfeldt that the two proposals at the conference which England finds unacceptable were introduced not by the Russian delegate but by Radowitz. I think, indeed I know, that Radowitz is vain, and easy game for the shrewder Nelidov; even so R. would not go so far unless he had secret instructions from Herbert, who pursues a policy of his own behind his father’s back.

We are now entering upon a critical phase: Russia and Austria are extremely incensed against each other. I wonder how the Chancellor will extricate himself from the difficulty. If he entrusts the affair too much to his son, it may turn out badly.’

1 December 1886
‘Herb. Bismarck recently told me Prince Wilhelm would soon be working in the Foreign Ministry. Herbert said that whenever he was too busy to give the Prince instruction he would send him to me. I replied: ‘Since this is an official request I cannot refuse, but I should find such association with the Prince highly undesirable. In the first place, he gossips about everything he hears - we have had examples of this very recently.’ (I cited several instances.) ‘But in addition my love of the truth would get me into trouble. You see, if he asks me my opinion I shall have to tell him; and my opinion differs from yours in quite a few essentials.’ ’

13 February 1888
‘When Radolinski informed the Kaiser on Thursday that the Crown Prince was to be operated on, the old gentleman wept a good deal, said ‘my poor, poor son’, but slept well all night. In all three generations of that family warmth of feeling is very under-developed.

When the Kaiser celebrated his birthday recently the Crown Prince arrived a quarter of an hour before he was expected. The Kaiserin asked him in a hectoring tone: ‘What are you doing here? Why, the Kaiser is not ready yet’ - and the Crown Prince had to wait outside.

The Crown Prince, although he is the only man of sensibility in the whole family, did not refrain from making waspish remarks about his parents’ longevity. ‘You’ll see’, he said in great irritation to someone the day the corner-stone of the Reichstag building was laid, ‘my father will live to see the building dedicated.’ On another occasion he said: ‘I was standing in the White Room yesterday evening’ - a ball had been held - ‘when I heard something behind me rattling. I looked round, it was my mother. She’s so skinny now that her old bones fairly rattle. But that does not keep her at home. She must put in an appearance even though she’s got one foot in the grave.’

Prince Wilhelm’s attitude to his father’s illness is purely businesslike. Between him and his mother there is fierce hatred. Recently on her son’s birthday she refused to drink to his health.

Except for a few fanatics no one now imagines that the Crown Prince has anything but cancer. And if it is cancer, then, so the doctors think, it will probably be all over by the 1st of April. His strength has declined very rapidly during the past four weeks.

The Chancellor’s speech is a masterpiece of rhetoric. Its contents are admittedly open to criticism in places by the specialist, whether he is a soldier or a diplomatist. The Chancellor felt that himself, which explains why he flattered the officers, the noncommissioned officers, the muscular stalwarts of the reserves, the whole nation in fact. As a result his speech has been a great success at home, and has done less harm abroad than I had feared.

It has made no difference to the general situation. The hatred and mistrust in certain quarters remain as strong as ever. Perhaps we shall keep the peace this year, during which we shall be exposed to the danger of seeing our alliances dissolved.’

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

A third dose of pneumonia

It is just ten days since the P.M. landed at Northholt with a temperature of 103; for some days after that he was chesty, and the X-rays revealed a shadow at the base of the lung, a third dose, though a very mild one, of pneumonia. There had been some doubt whether he would be fit to set off on another trip so soon. I decided at the last moment to ask Lionel Whitby and a nurse to come with us. Winston has got it into his head that a pathologist is an essential part of the team to deal with an attack of pneumonia, and I thought it would comfort him to have one on board.’ This is from the so-called diary of Charles McMoran Wilson who died 40 years ago today. He was Winston Churchill’s personal doctor through the Second World War, often travelling with him on trips abroad. Soon after Churchill’s death, Moran published his diary extracts concerning the great leader, but it caused huge controversy, not only because its revelations were considered to be in breach of many confidences and ethical considerations, but because the ‘diary’ was little more than a construction written in retrospect.

Wilson was born in 1882, in Skipton, Yorkshire, the third child of a doctor and his wife. He was schooled at Pocklington Grammar School; and he studied medicine at St Mary’s Hospital Medical School 
(now Imperial), London. While training as a registrar, he took 18 months out to travel in Egypt and Italy, but he returned to complete his studies. He won the gold medal in the London MD exams in 1913, and the same year achieved membership of the Royal College of Physicians. During the First World War, he enlisted in the Royal Army Medical Corps, becoming medical officer to the 1st Battalion of the Royal Fusiliers from 1914 to 1917. He was then in charge of medical facilities at the British hospital in Boulogne from 1917 to 1918. He won the Military Cross in the battle of the Somme (1916) and the Italian silver medal for valour (1917), and was twice mentioned in dispatches.

After the war, Wilson was appointed as physician to outpatients at St Mary’s. In July 1919, he married Dorothy Dufton, and they had two sons. From 1920 to 1945, he served as Dean of St Mary’s, but also maintained a private Harley Street practice. He studied the effects of war on the resilience of soldiers publishing a series of lectures - The Mind in War - in the 1930s. He was knighted in 1938 and became Baron Moran in 1943, thereafter making many speeches in Parliament on the NHS. He was also a member of the Spens Committee, which devised the merit awards system for consultants. In 1941, he was elected president of the Royal College of Physicians every year until he stepped down in 1950.

Most famously, Wilson was Winston Churchill’s private doctor, from two weeks after he had become Prime Minister, accompanying him on most of his travels through the war, and recommending specialist medical help whenever needed. After the war, and until 1961, he chaired the government standing committee which determined which consultants should receive increments in their salaries. He died on 12 April 1977. Further information can be found at Wikipedia, the Royal College of Physicians, or the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (although log-in required).

Moran was not a committed diarist, though he did keep notebooks intermittently. Some of these are held by the Wellcome Library, London. In particular, the Library notes that it has photocopies of his World War I army notebooks (the originals remain with the family). It also has: ‘A closely written loose-leaf manuscript book, which overflowed into collections of separate pages, covering the years 1940 to 1947. Judging by the varied use of past, present and future tenses and references under some dates to events that had not yet happened this volume must have been a fair copy of some earlier writing. There are further manuscript books, mixture of notes, diary and medical details continuing to 1955 and many pieces of paper, often backs of envelopes, with vignettes of a few lines elaborating particular ideas; some of these jottings, more or less modified, found a place in the book.’

In 1966, soon after the death of Winston Churchill, Constable published Moran’s book Churchill: The Struggle for Survival (1940-1945). It was presented as a day-by-day diary kept by Moran, as reflected in the book’s American title Churchill: Taken From the Diaries of Lord Moran. Some forty years later, the text was abridged and revised, and retitled Churchill at War: 1940-45 (Robinson, 2002). The Publisher’s blurb states: ‘This new edition of extracts from the extremely candid diaries of Churchill’s doctor Lord Moran, his devoted friend and confidant, contains material not previously revealed. It sheds a new light on how the great man faced up to and absorbed the strain of events during the war years, the tremendous burden of his responsibilities, and his extraordinary resolution. Moran’s keen observation, sensitivity, truth and insight, are brought to bear on Churchill’s conduct and personality. We hear of the weaknesses as well as the strengths: his rages, his jokes and salty comments, his occasional foolishness, his rare cattiness (of Attlee: ‘He has a great deal to be modest about’) and endearing playfulness, are all captured. Moran was not just an acute observer of his most famous patient. At Churchill’s side, he was able to record remarkable details of other world figures, and the historic events in which Churchill played so momentous a part.’

The original publication produced a storm of protest, not only from Churchill’s family but from other medical professionals, quoted by Moran, who considered Moran’s revelations had breached their confidences and crossed an ethical line. In the 2002 edition, Moran’s son, John, goes to some lengths to counter some of the criticisms levelled at his father. However, he fully accepts that his father did not keep a diary ‘except for very short periods’, and quotes Richard Lovell in his biography Churchill’s Doctor: A Biography of Lord Moran (Royal Society of Medicine, 1992).

Lovell says: ‘‘In his two books . . . Lord Moran alluded to his diary But he indicated in the prefaces to both books that he did not keep a diary in the ordinary sense of the word. In the First World War he scribbled in army notebooks, on the backs of orders and odd sheets of paper and in his Churchill years on the backs of envelopes and other scraps of paper. The scribblings in the army notebooks, and the elaboration of his thoughts in other notebooks, formed the basis for The Anatomy of Courage. In his Churchill years, the earliest orderings of his thoughts from his jottings (some of which, often barely legible, were also scattered through the family papers) appeared in diary form in closely written loose-leaf manuscript books, which overflowed into collections of separate pages. Judging by varied use of past, present and future tenses, and references under some dates to events that had not yet happened, these manuscript books cannot be regarded literally as a diary. Finally, in regard to the notion of a diary, the closest diary-like records from the Second World War onwards were unquestionably the letters written by Lord Moran to his family, many of which they kept.’

Thus, the diary format in the original 1966 book and its re-edition is a deception - little more than a construction in retrospect. John H. Mather, writing for the International Churchill Society, has taken a close look at the 2002 edition in order to answer his own question ‘What can be said now about the accuracy, veracity and comprehensiveness of Moran’s “diary”?’

Mather concludes: ‘Notwithstanding the discrepancies in the diary, and with the benefit of forty years of hindsight, we may conclude that Moran was the first physician significantly to reveal important information about a world figure that no one else would have been able to record. When under attack, and in his own defense, he commented to The Times: “It is not possible to follow the last twenty-five years of Sir Winston’s life without a knowledge of his medical background . . . It was exhaustion of mind and body that accounted for much that is otherwise inexplicable. Only a doctor can give the facts accurately.” Moran’s revelations of Churchill’s physical and mental health was a first, but subsequent biographers have not been squeamish about covering similar ground. This is a big plus for medical historians. Commenting on Moran as a diarist, an academician observed in 1969: “The topical question of whether a patient’s confidence has been outraged by his physician’s account of him both in his strength and in his weakness will no longer agitate the reader.” ’

Finally, here are some extracts from Moran’s ‘diary’ (taken from the 2002 edition).

28 July 1942
‘I was summoned this morning to No. 10 Downing Street, where I heard that we should soon be on the move. The P.M. has decided to fly to Cairo. From Gibraltar he will fly south to Takoradi on the Gold Coast, and so across Central Africa to Cairo. It means about five days in the air, landing at places where malaria and yellow fever are rife. The P.M. wanted my advice about inoculations. I did not like the plan and gave my reasons.

As I was leaving I met John Anderson. He said that certain members of the Cabinet were concerned about the Prime Minister’s travels and the dangers he was running in flying over hostile territory in an unarmed bomber. He and Cripps had arranged to see the P.M. this afternoon, and, as health might come up, he would like me to be there.

At the appointed hour I joined them in the Cabinet Room I was most concerned with the actual risk of the protective measures against yellow fever. While we were discussing these problems, the door opened and the Prime Minister hurried in, beaming at us disarmingly - always a sign that he is up to mischief. He began to unfold a large map, spreading it on the table.

“Vanderkloot says it is quite unnecessary to fly so far south. He has explained to me that we can fly in one hop to Cairo. Come here and look.”

Sir John knelt on a chair to get nearer the map, while Cripps leant over his shoulder. The P.M., with a pencil, traced the route from Gibraltar across Spanish Morocco till he struck the Nile, where his pencil turned sharply to the north.

“This changes the whole picture,” the P.M. added confidently. I ventured to ask who Vanderkloot was. It appeared that he had just cross the Atlantic in a bomber, and it is in this machine that we are to fly to Cairo. I wondered why it was left to an American pilot to find a safe route to Cairo, but that did not seem a profitable line of speculation.

“You see. Charles, we need not bother about inoculations.”

Anderson and Cripps pored over the map like excited schoolboys, and the party broke up without a word of warning or remonstrance about the risks the P.M was taking in flying over hostile territory in an unarmed bomber by daylight. The P.M. gets his own way with everyone with hardly a murmur.’

1 August 1942
‘Called at No. 10 to see if anything was wanted. The P.M. seemed abstracted. “There’s something very wrong there,” he muttered half to himself. “I must clear things up.” For a long time he has been worried by the reverses in the desert, and when he told me that he had asked Smuts to join him in Cairo, I knew he meant to bring things to a head. As I was leaving, he put down a telegram the secretary had just brought in.

“We may go to see Stalin. He won’t like what I have to say to him. I’m not looking forward to it.” The P.M. is turning over in his head how he can break the news to Stalin. He has to tell him that there will not be a Second Front in France this year.’

11 August 1943
‘I wish sometimes that one member of this singular family would behave like an ordinary human being. Clemmie is the culprit this time; she is being difficult - over nothing. The P.M. was in tremendous form last night. In a few hours he would be leaving Quebec for Hyde Park to spend some days as the President’s guest; then, as he grunted with great satisfaction, things would really get moving. I was therefore surprised to find him this morning in poor spirits. It appears that Clemmie was to have gone with him; but she changed her plans at the last moment; she was not sleeping well, she said. The truth is she does not like the President; once she confided to me that she does not like any great man except Winston. Winston tried to argue with her; it was not very polite to the President, he said. But Clemmie can be as difficult and obstinate as the great man himself. Besides he has ‘talked at’ her so often she has become resistant and doesn’t mind being ‘shouted down’.’


11 December 1943
‘Our luck is out. Soon after daybreak we came down near Tunis. A cold wind blew across the deserted aerodrome, there was no one about, no car, nothing. The P.M. got wearily out of the hot aircraft, looked around blankly and then, in spite of our protests, he sat down on a box, took off his hat and gloomily surveyed the sandy ground. The wind blew a wisp of hair this way and that, his face shone with perspiration. I pressed him to get back into the Skymaster; he only scowled. I went off to find out what had gone wrong, and learned that the airfield where we were expected was fifteen miles from this spot. There was nothing for it but to reembark. As the P.M. walked very slowly to the aircraft there was a grey look on his face that I did not like, and when he came at last to this house he collapsed wearily into the first chair. All day he has done nothing; he does not seem to have the energy even to read the usual telegrams. I feel much disturbed.

I went to bed early and woke to find the P.M. in his dressing-gown standing at the foot of my bed. “I’ve got a pain in my throat, here.” He put his finger just above his collar bone. I rubbed my eyes and got up. “It’s pretty bad. Do you think it’s anything? What can it be due to?” he demanded in one breath. I reassured him, and indeed I am not unduly perturbed. For a man with his strong constitution he never seems to be long without some minor ailment. Probably in the morning I shall hear no more of this pain.’

25 December 1943
‘To Early Service with Mrs Churchill. It was held in a barn with a few officers and men of the Coldstream Guards as communicants. During the service a dove flew in and perched on a rafter. The men said it meant that there would soon be peace.

An officer asked me, a little wistfully, how long the war would last. They are out of it all for a week or two guarding the Prime Minister, but they must know that when they go back the odds are against them; that it is just a matter of time. These highly civilized young men, who are so meticulous in the discharge of their duty, feel the utter beastliness of war, though they never speak of it. They have been brought up by their fathers to think that there is no sense in war, that it brings the solution of nothing.’

8 September 1944
‘It is just ten days since the P.M. landed at Northholt with a temperature of 103; for some days after that he was chesty, and the X-rays revealed a shadow at the base of the lung, a third dose, though a very mild one, of pneumonia. There had been some doubt whether he would be fit to set off on another trip so soon. I decided at the last moment to ask Lionel Whitby and a nurse to come with us. Winston has got it into his head that a pathologist is an essential part of the team to deal with an attack of pneumonia, and I thought it would comfort him to have one on board.

It was a happy thought. This morning when the P.M.’s temperature went up again he became thoroughly rattled and bad-tempered, until Whitby restored morale by finding that he had a normal blood count. The trouble is that Winston always has pneumonia at the back of his mind. Now the temperature has subsided and he is quite himself again.’

15 October 1944
‘After breakfast I called on the P.M. and found that he had diarrhoea. He was, however, in good spirits, and very hopeful about the way things are going. This afternoon his temperature went up to 101. He is quite certain now that he is beginning another attack of pneumonia.

“I am in your clutches once more, my friend. What about getting Bedford? I wouldn’t wait. The Cabinet will be getting fussed. Clemmie would like to come out, I am sure.”

He buried his head in his hands and moaned. Then Sawyers did something wrong and the P.M. flew at him. I fancy that his temperature is associated with the diarrhoea, but he won’t accept this, because the diarrhoea stopped at noon, and now, seven hours later, the temperature is still up. Nothing is gained in such circumstances by arguing. If, on our journeys, I were to send for specialists and nurses every time the P.M. runs a temperature we might as well add them to our travelling establishment. However, I sent a message to Cairo asking Pulvertaft and Scadding and two nurses to stand by; it would take them twelve hours to get here. Time enough tomorrow to send a telegram to Clemmie.’

30 January 1945
‘I turned in soon after we were in the air to get some sleep, as we were to land at Malta between four and five in the morning; an hour later Sawyers pulled my curtain back and said that the P.M. had a temperature - a good beginning to a winter journey of three thousand miles. The P.M. blames my sulphaguanadine tablets, which he has been taking during the day. As they are not absorbed from the gut, they could not be responsible, but the P.M. has views on everything, and his views on medicine are not wanting in assurance.

He was restless, and I soon gave up any attempt to sleep. He asked me if I would like to send for Whitby, the pathologist, and what about Clemmie? - the Moscow performance over again. He has developed a bad habit of running a temperature on these journeys.

It is not the flesh only that is weaker. Martin tells me that his work has deteriorated a lot in the last few months; and that he has become very wordy, irritating his colleagues in the Cabinet by his verbosity. One subject will get in his mind to the exclusion of all others - Greece, for example.

Winston stayed in bed in the plane till noon, when he was taken to H.M.S. Orion. He rested until the evening, when Harriman came to dinner. Only this morning he was in the doldrums when, turning his face to the wall, he had called for Clemmie. Surely this bout of fever should put sense into his head. But Winston is a gambler, and gamblers do not count the coins in their pockets. He will not give a thought to nursing his waning powers. And now, when it was nearly midnight, he demanded cards and began to play bezique with Harriman. Damn the fellow, will he never give himself a chance?’