Sons- and daughters-in-law of Francis Edward and Mary Spence Watson Pollard

Lovely to have R. & B. safely with us for 2 nights. They, esp. B. look quite done up. Were just getting them off to bed early, when warning, but "All clear" soon came, so they had a bath & then a really good night.

Beatrice came, alone, for week-end, as tired & bad cough. Gave us most interesting account of her work at West Ham in shelters, etc, under Ministry of Labour.

. . . we heard that this evening (Wed.) was one of London's worst raids. B. was at West Ham & R. said it was a miracle she escaped.

Beatrice E. Pollard was first a teacher for eight years. Her casework included experience in a venereal diseases clinic; the homeless services during the Second World War and the Probation Service. She assisted Professor R.M. Titmuss with the social services volume of the Official History of the War and trained social workers at Bedford College.

Latest report about Aunt Beatrice is that she can now walk with the aid of one nurse instead of two & may have progressed even more by now since that news is at least 7 days old. She is getting (always was?) very demanding, says her sister, which seems to be a good sign.

Aunt Beatrice has been looking at Nursing Homes in Bognor, and may have moved into one by now. She is making good progress, but still needs a wheel chair to get far. Her sister, Mrs. Soothill, is coping with her.

A letter from Aunt Beatrice came this week, dated 31 October. Dictated to a friend, but she signed it with her right hand to show she is still making progress. She is now staying at her sister's hotel in Bognor Regis, having left the Nursing Home.

I heard from Aunt Beatrice over the New Year holiday. She is back in her own home in Chichester. Finds stairs difficult to manage, and can't walk far, but is persevering. She has bought an electric chair and is practising driving around the cul-de-sac where the house is situated. She is hopefully talking about taking the electric car [sic], by train, to London, so that she can visit the Hayward Gallery! At the moment, she has a Home Help who pushes her to the shops, dentist, etc.

. . . is planning to fly up on October 6^th and return on October 10^th, staying at Craiglands Hotel. I shall have to help push her around in a wheel-chair! Very brave of her to attempt the journey, she can only manage to walk 20 yards at present.

I don't think I told you that Aunt Beatrice went to Leningrad on June 14^th, travelling with a companion on the Leonid Brezhnev, the Russian cruise lines, doing the same Baltic sea trip as we did in 1961. She is due back on this Saturday and I hope she has survived the weather on the trip, as the charts on TV have shown a deep depression over Scandinavia the whole period.

My train was late getting to Chichester, so we went straight off to a restaurant for a very agreeable dinner—costing much more than I approve of, of swordfish steaks with baked potato, green beans, and courgettes stewed in tomatoes, followed by raspberry pavlova. Aunt B's wheelchair had conked out, so she was virtually immobilized, apart from taxis—she can now barely walk at all, walking only with great difficulty and very slowly—so her plan for me to wheel her to the Cathedral, and for her to show me round, proved impossible; nevertheless, she was so determined that I should see a bit of Chichester that she took me in a taxi to the tourist information booth by the cathedral with instructions to buy a map and have a look at some of the sights, while she would continue in the taxi back to her home, where I would meet her later. This struck me as defeating much of the object of my visit, which was to see her, but she seemed adamant. So I had a look round the cathedral, and then went on to the Pallant House museum and gallery, which she had particularly recommended, before going on to Clydesdale Avenue; I took as little time as possible, but felt I had to have a sufficient look round to satisfy her of my real interest. She gave me tea when I got back—Earl Grey, with lemon, and some almond slices.

Conversation with her proved of considerable interest, and some of it may be worth recording here. She is now an overseer of Chichester Meeting, which I hadn't realized, and seems very committed to Friends; said she had once before been an overseer—of Hammersmith meeting—but felt now that that had been a great mistake—she hadn't been a Friend long enough. She mentioned that she had also at one time been a governor of a couple of schools, as a Labour political nominee; I'm not sure where this was. She is now a great aunt twice over in her own family—two grandchildren of her sister. She takes a great interest in sport on TV, following cricket and tennis with interest, and is also—extraordinary to think of in Aunt Beatrice—quite fond of sitcoms and, of all things, addicted to Neighbours!

We got into a discussion about family history and genealogy; she said that someone had done research on her own family, the Pascalls, who were apparently Huguenots by origin, having settled in the Huguenot heartland of Spitalfields.

She averred that she no longer had any papers or photos relating to my own family, but nevertheless compensated for this by giving me a few reminiscences of her own. To begin at the most recent generation, she told me of one vivid memory she had of my brother Daniel: it was at my grandmother's cottage, Mushroom Cottage, in Berkshire, and her memory is that he, as a little boy, had just learnt the word "huge", and was running around in bare feet on gravel, clutching at leaves, and crying "Huge!—Huge!"

She asked me if I remembered Francis Pollard, and seemed astonished when I told her he had died before I was born. She said I was most unlucky not to have known him—she spoke of him with great reverence, I thought. She said he was a most extraordinarily handsome man, whose good looks none of his daughters—"not even Margaret"—had inherited; this was something of which he appeared quite oblivious, although Beatrice had at least once told him of it, to his face. She told me of one occasion on which she had seen him take part in some kind of historical reenactment, at the Quaker place Jordans, in Buckinghamshire, in which he had dressed up in seventeenth-century costume.

She told me she had met only one of his brothers—Albert, she thought it was; "Of course," she said, "many of them were very old men, by the time I knew Francis Pollard." She found it curious how theologically orientated his brothers were.

She told me—this adds nothing to what I already knew, but is interesting, in that it conveys an oral memory dating back to at least the 1850s—that she remembered Francis Pollard telling her that his forebears had been farmers, in Sussex.

Present at the funeral: Graham Soothill (Beatrice's brother-in-law), Gerard Soothill (her nephew), Joan Soothill (I think—Gerard's wife), Jonathan and Emily Dale, Lucy and Ben Beck, Nathalie Ross (Beatrice's companion of her final years)—and others unidentified, for a total of perhaps 40.

The ceremony began at 13:30, and lasted just 20 minutes [ . . . ] . It started with the playing of Dvořak's 'Going Home' theme from the New World Symphony, as the pall-bearers brought in the coffin. The music occupied perhaps too much time, as afterwards one or two local friends commented that they hadn't had time to speak, as they'd intended. Anyway, the clerk (or ex-clerk) of Chichester meeting gave the usual introduction, before going into the customary format for a Friend's funeral. Natalie spoke first, briefly and confidently, but affectingly. Then a middle-aged woman Friend made a really first-class contribution, describing a wonderfully characteristic anecdote of Aunt Beatrice: she almost apologised for introducing it, saying some might find it irreverent, but in fact it wholly broke the ice and transformed this funeral into the most joyous funeral I've ever attended. I really mean that word—I commented to a couple of people afterwards that I'd almost enjoyed the occasion, and they responded very affirmatively. The story she told was that on one occasion she'd seen the now-quite-frail Beatrice struggling up the steps to the meeting house, but Beatrice had declined her assistance; the Friend commented to her that Natalie had described Beatrice as "fiercely independent", to which Beatrice had responded, "Fiercely??", in—as she put it—"that 'handbag' tone of hers"; Beatrice had added, "I'll tell you what Natalie says about you", continuing, after a pause, with "She says you're 'a good woman'"; a further pause, then, "Personally, I never thought much of the phrase". This was so evocative of the real Beatrice Pollard we'd all known, that a ripple of chuckling went round the crematorium, and the whole assembly perceptibly relaxed. The same speaker finished off by saying how good it was that no-one present needed to grieve, as it had so obviously been a mercy that Beatrice had finally passed on (in her final months she had apparently been distressingly confused, and after her eighth stroke she had been left blind and deaf, making it very difficult for anyone even to comfort her). Subsequently all speakers felt able to speak freely of their true feelings about Beatrice, and Emily Dale even confessed that when she first knew Beatrice she'd thought of her as rather a "dragon"; Jonathan—who, as perhaps now the most respected Friend present, was the last Friend to speak—told how, when he and Emily were courting, their first encounter with Robert and Beatrice had been perhaps their biggest ordeal, seeing if they could pass their scrutiny (my father, too, had had to pass through this mill, in 1941); he also referred to Beatrice as "cantankerous" and "imperious". But all these references were coupled to references to how they'd come to know her more deeply, and were all made very lovingly; Jonathan's address was quite emotional.

After the funeral we all went back to Gerard's hotel—the Black House Mill Hotel—in Bognor Regis, where he served up sandwiches and tea & biscuits.

[ . . . ]

There appeared to be considerable difficulty over Aunt Beatrice's will, tied in with lingering problems from Robert's. Somehow or other their house was tied up in Robert's law firm, and arguments over this prevented Beatrice selling it to pay her nursing home fees. It seemed surprising that Robert, of all people, should have left this messy situation.

At my mother's funeral, they travelled up on the same train as us, though we didn't realize it till we got to Leeds. The train journey from Leeds to Ilkley was a little two-carriage, conductor-served, shuttle; in those days it still had the tiniest of First Class compartments, with about two seats. Robert insisted in sitting in the First Class part all the way to Leeds, and not with us; Beatrice, however, graced us with her presence.

Beatrice had a stroke a few years ago, which left her quite severely debilitated, though she could just about walk with aids; she didn't let this deter her in any way, and still got about a lot—Ilkley, Wales, Ireland—and even at some point going on a cruise; mostly she flew places, even within Britain.

MARRIAGE OF MISS POLLARD.

Ceremony at The Friends Meeting House.

The marriage took place at the Friends' Meeting House, Reading, on Saturday afternoon of Mr. Reginald Rowland Dale, son of Mr. and Mrs. R.B. Dale, of 7, Elizabeth Terrace, Ditton, near Widnes, Lancs, and Miss Margaret Watson Pollard, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. F.E. Pollard, of 9 Denmark Road, Reading.

The ceremony followed the usual course of a Friends' meeting. After a few minutes' silence the bride and bridegroom rose and each made a simple statement that they took one another in marriage "promising through Divine assistance to be unto him (or her) a loving and faithful wife (or husband)." In the silence that followed short addresses were given by Mr. C.E. Stansfield, Mr. C. Thompson and Miss M. Lloyd, and prayer was offered by Mr. W. Leach.

The bride wore a simple white silk crepe-de-Chine ankle-length gown fastened in bow behind, also white fichu fastened in front with spray of orange blossom. She carried a bouquet of white carnations and delphiniums and wore similar flowers on her hair. The bride was attended by her two sisters, Miss C. Pollard and Miss R. Pollard, and Miss F. Dale, sister of the bridegroom. Two of the bridesmaids were in ankle-length dresses of white flowered silk and one was in pink flowered silk. Their dresses were after the Victorian style, and they wore open-work hats to match. They carried bouquets of pink larkspur, and also wore necklets, the gift of the bridegroom. The dresses of the bride and bridesmaids were made by the Misses Kleiser. Mr. Donald Clarkson was best man.

After the ceremony a reception was held at 9, Denmark Road. The guests included: Mrs. and Miss Archibald, Mrs. Bowman Smith, the Misses Brain, Mrs. Burrow, Mr. T.T. Cass, Mrs. W.M. Childs, Mr. Patrick Childs, Mr. and Mrs. D. Clarkson, Mrs. D.S. Crichton, Mr. and Mrs. Cumber, the Misses Cumber, Miss Curtis, Mr. and Mrs. R.B. Dale, Mrs. S. Daires, Miss Fardon, Mrs. and Miss Gardiner, Mr. and Mrs. Gibbins, Mrs. Cretton, Mr. E.W. Harrison, Mr. and Mrs. Hampton, Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins Mr. Harrison Jackson, Mr. and Mrs. L. Jackson, Mr. Labrey Jackson, Miss Lloyd, Mr. E.C. Lowe, Mr. and Mrs. C. Merz, Alderman and Mrs. J.B. Morrell, Miss Morrell, the Misses Player, Mrs. Peto, Mr. Leonard Peto, Miss Pollard, Mrs. Rawlings, the Misses Rawlings, Mr. and Mrs. S.A. Reynolds, Miss Reynolds, Mrs. Richardson, Mr. and Mrs. E.M. Robson, Mr. Raymond Robson, Miss Barbara Robson, Miss Roberts, Mrs. M.S. Sparkes, Mr. Wilfrid Sparkes, Mr. Stansfield, Miss Stansfield, the Misses Stevens, Miss H.W. Sturge, Mr. and Mrs. Sutton, Mrs. and Miss Timms, Mrs. Turvey, Miss Waltis, Professor and Mrs. F.E. Weiss, Miss Weiss and Mr. and Mrs. Wicksteed.

Leter the bride and bridegroom left for their honeymoon, which is being spent at Sark. The bride travelled in a dress of blue flowered shantung with blue coat and hat to match.

I don't think I said before that Reg. has got a new post at Stepney, so this may be my last visit to this lovely place—it is so wonderful at night when the lights of the factories below are lit. Also Reg. got his Master of Education degree (a musical thesis) & excellent testimonial . . .

About noon we set off for the village of Gargrave, near Skipton, where my Uncle Reg's 90th birthday was being celebrated at a large family pub called the Anchor Inn. . . . They'd laid on a splendid buffet . . . . it was Reg's day, and everyone was determined to make it a joyful one. After we'd eaten, Reg gave a long, rambling and pointless speech, which no-one could fathom, though he seemed to enjoy delivering it; then he cut the cake and we got on with our socialising. Reg's voice is now very weak, and he's certainly quite frail, but facially everyone said he hadn't apparently aged since his 80th, and he's obviously still got all his marbles.

Rather improbably, Reg was a great friend of Harry Corbett, creator of the puppets Sooty and Sweep; we found this out through the surprising circumstance of hearing Harry Corbett refer to their friendship on the radio, when he was the guest on Desert Island Discs!

Joe completed his five years' apprenticeship as a mechanical engineer in 1931 but because of the poor economic situation at that time Daimler, although they offered to keep him on, would only do so at apprentice pay. He refused the offer and left, spending the next couple of years working in the public library for a degree in Economics [and Sociology] via a London University correspondence course. The family belonged to a Congregational Church and he was heavily involved there as well which let to his studying theology at Westhill College in Birmingham where he first my mother.

Joe went on to the Yorkshire Independent College in Bradford in 1935 to spend four years there training for the ministry. All this time he had been consistently in love with my mother while she could never make her mind up about him!

Coventry Man for China

SEVEN YEARS' SERVICE AS MISSIONARY

Ordination Service To-Night

A service believed to be unique in Coventry takes place at Warwick Road Congregational Church this evening, when Mr. Joseph Malcolm Hardie, B.Sc., is to be ordained into the ministry.

Mr. Hardie, who has been a member of Warwick Road Church for many years, was employed in a local engineering works before he decided to take up church work. He entered Westhill Training College, Birmingham, to train as a specialist in young people's service.

Subsequently he went to the United Theological College, Bradford, where the urge for missionary work caused him to alter his plans and he has now offered himself, and has been accepted, for service in the mission field in East China.

To-night he will be ordained in his mother church, and on Sunday morning he will preach his ordination sermon at the Warwick Road Church by the special invitation of the church.

The ministers officiating in the ordination will be the Rev. Leslie E. Cooke (Warwick Road) the Rev. T. Cocker Brown (Foreign Secretary to the London Missionary Society), the Rev. H. Cunliffe-Jones (Professor Yorkshire United College) and the Rev. S. Maurice Watts (Elgin Place Glasgow), who during his ministry in Coventry first stimulated Mr. Hardie's enthusiasm for church leadership.

After to-night's ordination service, there is to be a reception in the Sibree Hall, at which the Warwick Road Church will make presentations to Mr. Hardie, consisting of a portable typewriter and a substantial cheque.

Mr. Hardie is the son of Mr. John Hardie, 120, Green Lane, Coventry, and he will be going out to East China for seven years.

[small head and shoulders photo included]

TO BECOME MISSIONARY IN CHINA

Ordination of Mr. J.M. Hardie

WARWICK ROAD CHURCH PRESENTATIONS

Warwick Road Church and congregation was well represented last evening at the ordination of Mr. Joseph Malcolm Hardie to the ministry for work in East China, in the service of the London Missionary Society.

Long-standing friends of Mr. Hardie's—young people who have grown up with him in Warwick Road Church, and adults who have watched his progress—attended in large numbers to pay tribute to his courage in undertaking missionary work in China for a first period of seven years.

The ordination service was an impressive ceremony and included a striking address as a charge to the missionary by the Rev. S. Maurice Watts, who took a keen interest in Mr. Hardie when he was in Coventry.

Mr. Watts has a special welcome to the service because of his distinguished pastorate at Warwick Road before leaving for Elgin Place, Glasgow.

PRESENTATIONS

The present minister of the church, the Rev. Leslie E. Cooke, led the service of ordination, in which he was assisted by the Rev. T. Cocker Brown, Foreign Secretary to the London Missionary Society, and the Rev. H. Cunliffe-Jones, Professor at Yorkshire United College, Bradford, where Mr. Hardie had been in training during the past four years.

Afterwards, following a brief reception in the social centre of the church, presentations were made to Mr. Hardie in the Sibree Hall. These were from the church members and consisted of a portable typewriter and a substantial cheque.

Mrs. Leslie Cooke made these presentations after speeches had been made by the Rev. S. Maurice Watts, the Rev. Leslie Cooke, and the Principal of Yorkshire United College (the Rev. Ernest J. Price).

Mr. Hardie, who was supported by a number of fellow students of Yorkshire United College, made suitable response. He will preach his ordination sermon at Warwick Road on Sunday morning.

The crunch came in 1939 when my father achieved his wish to be sent to China as a missionary with the London Missionary Society. At the last minute she agreed that she would follow him to Shanghai and marry him there, but the work intervened and she could not travel out.

Joe worked as a missionary in Shanghai until early 1942.

Caro had 2 letters from Joe. Poor man, he is probably interned now as Shanghai has just been taken by the Japanese.

What do you think of me now that I am in the Army? The truth of the matter is that I met this group of people first when I got into the interior of China and they were keen for me to join them. I am not a very important person hereabouts and get all sorts of funny jobs to do. But I think I have been able to help in one or two ways and shall be glad to do what else I can.

My Chinese is a funny mixture now: coming from Shanghai I gradually picked up Mandarin expressions and now even if I try to speak Shanghai dialect—I often meet Shanghai people—the result is a mixture, and my Mandarin has in any case to be eked out with Shanghai words.

[ . . . ] One of my jobs here is that of a sort of unofficial chaplain. We often have services on Sunday and it falls to the ex-missionaries, of whom there are quite a number, to take the services. At the moment I am the only one at this particular place.

I wonder what sort of a picture will come into your mind when I tell you that I am in hospital. I have had an attack of dysentery but am well on the way to recovery now. I have been here a week and the unpleasant stage of the illness is past. I expect to be back at my job a week from now.

[ . . . ] Among other things I am in charge of the motor transport and owing to the high price and shortage of petrol (cost at least two pounds sterling a gallon) I have had the task of superintending the conversion of some of our lorries to charcoal burners—rather a Heath Robinson contraption but one which works. I am now quite used to driving three-ton lorries along tracks where I would formerly have been scared to drive a private car.

First about leaving Shanghai. Out of 2,000 American and either 6,000 or 8,000 British subjects I think I am right in saying that only 5 Americans and 9 or 10 British have got out—and reached the West.

[ . . . ] Have been in seven provinces now—all south of the Yangtse River.

I don't suppose you are very interested in questions about rank—I am not, but I am now Acting Captain (i.e. I am paid as a Captain)—most ranks are 'acting' ranks in war time. My war substantive rank is Lieutenant—i.e. if I were transferred to another unit I might be only a Lieutenant. It would not worry me.

My job is very largely concerned with communications—just a thousand miles of them and this year we have had very heavy rains—earlier than usual—bridges have been swept away in one particular area. One gets used to building temporary bridges and driving lorries through rivers. I have just been getting a tree cut down to make planks for bridging small gaps.

I understand that I am entitled to major's pay for the time I have been alone here, because the establishment calls for a major to run the place. The idea rather amuses me.

I have sent in an application to be transferred to the REMEs—an Engineering Corps you know—since my work is proper to an officer of that Corps. The General has passed my application on to India with the proviso that he won't let me leave the BMM or spare me time in India for what he calls a 'qualifying course'. It is gratifying to know that I am considered so essential in the war effort.

I have just today got a copy of Indian Army Order No "-9003/4MS (Coord) which reads that the C in C is pleased to make the following acting promotions.

Special

Temp. Capt J.M. Hardie Gen. List to be Actg. Maj. whilst specially employed 23rd Dec 1943

I am in India! In fact I have been here for a week. I have stayed in a fine hotel, I have ridden in taxis, I have been to the pictures (twice)—and I find it all extremely dull.

My first sensation on arriving in Calcutta was one of shyness and nervousness—just like a country boy up in London for the first time. That has worn off now and has been replaced by boredom.

Forward Area

British Military Mission, China

c/o 12 A.B.P.O., India

15^th Jan 45.

Dear Ruth,

                 Many thanks for your airgraph received a few days ago. There is no need to worry about my "plight" as you call it. We can still come and go by air, the only difference is that we have a quick journey by air instead a long (1000 mile) journey by train & lorry. Another thing to remember is that communication with India has been by air only, since early in 1942. And also that the area free from Japs in which I am now running around is many times larger than the British Isles. If it comes to "the worst" we can go to the hills and hunt tigers. There is a very famous type, the "blue faced tiger", in China for which Zoological Societies would give a fortune—since none have ever been killed or caught. So that if the worst Japs drive me to the hills I may be able to live a lazy life after the war—supported by my blue faced tiger.

There is great interest among us in Repatriation, Home Leave, Home Leave in lieu of repatriation, etc. We have lengthy discussions about the meaning of the regulations. It appears that the Indian Army & British Service come under different schemes and the various circulars do not make things quite clear. One of them gave us the impression that civilian years counted (which makes me 5) and another assured us that all who had been out for 5 years were either home or on their way home. But we are still here.

The increases for people in the Far East (pay, you know) also amount to nothing. I find I am not J in the Japanese Campaign now in the Far East as far as [illeg. word, struck through] pay is concerned. The question of pay, however, does not worry me.

The thing that does worry me is that the various schemes for repatriation & other things just do not seem to apply to us. We just go on and on & nothing happens. Perhaps someday there will be a landing on the coast and the invasion forces will find a group of bad-tempered, white-haired old men who were the B.M.M. in their youth.

                  Best wishes,

                           Joe

Am looking forward to meeting Sidney & Daniel.

In transit, [ . . . ]. I am in India now and spent last weekend in a Bengali village with the LMS people.

[ . . . ] I have applied again for a transfer to Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers [ . . . ] and this time I think I shall get it. I expect to be reduced to the rank of Captain in this transfer, but shall get very nearly as much pay.

[ . . . ] Here is my address: Major J M Hardie, ME Branch, Advanced Headquarters, Allied Land Forces, South East Asia.

My application for 'Reversion to Home Establishment, on Compassionate Grounds' has been approved. If I sail I should be with you by about the beginning of August—if I fly, much sooner, say middle of July.

Joe and Caro were married on August 8th 1945 by special licence which meant that they had to go through the formalities at the Registry Office after the Quaker Meeting for Worship in which they spoke their vows according to the Quaker practice. It was, necessarily, a small wedding as there wasn't even time to send out invitations, and travel was still extremely difficult. But 17 people sat down to a 'lunch' at the Great Western Hotel in Reading, the only place that could do a meal. It was 'poor' apparently, but the family could never have provided food for that number given the limitations of rationing.

The wedding party then went back to the family home and other visitors arrived. A 'confectioner' had been persuaded to make a cake if the family supplied all the ingredients; this Caro iced with "substitute almond icing made from soya flour and real white icing on top!" This was pronounced 'excellent'!

After the guests had left the couple borrowed Caro's parents' car and drove off for a week's honeymoon at the County Hotel in Malvern.

On August 9th the bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, effectively ending the war.

Joe never went back to China.

The funeral at Skipton went off all right; an old friend of Joe's (former Moderator of the Cong. Church) started it off & finished it, and in the middle was a Friends' meeting, during which Rowland spoke beautifully about what Joe was like as an Uncle; the service certainly seemed to give Caro strength. The family all went back to 91 for refreshments. At the funeral there were a lot of Ilkley Friends & some of the staff from Bingley Grammar School.