Letters to Marion
14 February, 1940
Dearest Mog,
Your letter came this morning. I wish I could come to see you both again but until some money comes in I am stuck here, Everyone here is grumbling and saying they cannot pay their way and the only bright side of the position is that if that is the state of the majority it will be very difficult to ever proceed against them.
I was at Putney yesterday and mother asked me to thank you for your letter and to tell you how sorry she is not to be able to reply yet awhile. She is really exhausted these days and father is not getting any better. He sometimes cannot even feed himself properly and although he now gets up each day about lunch time and is able to get along to the sitting room his leg is liable to give way unexpectedly and he has fallen over several times. As you know, they are both terribly independent and I had a real struggle to get them to have a nurse in every morning; but it was impossible to do without. Another comes every afternoon to give him massage and electric treatment. Fortunately he does not have any pain but it is hard on them both and extremely worrying - it worries me a lot, and what with my other worries, the heating problem and continually dashing over to Putney I have found it hard to settle to anything for the last two or three weeks. I work at the picture, it is 36"x28", when I get the time and when I feel I can, which with other things on my mind is not as often as I should like, however, it is coming well. I have had one fight with it and there will be several yet I think but it should look well in the end.
Since the beginning of September I have done 23 oils but most of them are only little panels, although the number includes one 20 x 16, three 18 x 14, two 15 x 9 and three 14 x 10 - but all too small and I am furious because I feel it in me to do twice as many and all bigger. But paint and canvas is the problem and it is better to paint little ones than not to paint at all. Of course, I did get some canvas and paint last December when I sold the pictures. The canvas is all used up now and there is not much paint left. This week I have started to halve the money I spend on cigarettes and will buy paint instead.
Steve came snooping in the other day and so admired the theatre painting that on hearing I was short of my favourite colour - viridian - he actually presented me with a 4/6 tube! I took it. I would take paint from anyone. Two days after he invited me in to see a painting he had just done of the King's Cinema.
So do one's chickens come home to roost, but it was a bad painting and I do not mind. He will be literal as long as he lives, all the same I was damned glad of the viridian. He is also growing a beard and looks shocking. Chelsea has him in its toils properly now.
The lucky man's name in the Maudie affair is Percy Samuel. Yes, I think he is. I have said I will go but have just realized that it will almost be the end on the month and I will most likely not have the fare, so I may have to send a wire instead. Perhaps I should worry but to honest, I don't.
You must not worry about the miserable little postal orders I send you. Of course I will go on sending them as long as the class keeps going. And it is not getting smaller so far. I only wish I could send more but I know the difference even a little can make when one is hard up. This morning I found two pennies in my overcoat pocket and got a hell of a thrill.
I am so glad Julian is well; you said something about a snapshot in your letter but I could not find it in there. Did you forget to put it in the envelope? Try to send it next time.
No, Brian* is not at Putney. He was only there for one night. He is with the regiment now and I hope he is enjoying himself. He rather naively told me that although he had the money, I was the eldest and so it was up to me persuade Mother and Father to do this and that. I don't think he meant it, only he does take himself so seriously.
* Brian is Brian Hall, Clifford's younger brother.
Griffin has a wonderful story about Jack Bilbo*, told by a girl whom Jack asked back one night to see his - yes, just what you are thinking, only he said his pictures. After a few opening moves which he got away with he sat the girl on the bed and going to the cupboard produced a bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured the wine and placed it on a little table within easy reach of the bed. Then he made the next move which, however, was more than the girl bargained for, or maybe she just didn't feel like it at that moment. So she told Jack so - very definitively. Poor Bilbo collapsed almost at once and then getting up, he very slowly and carefully poured the wine back into the bottle. "Well" said he with a sob, "we shan't be needing that now, and after all it's an expensive wine!"
Isn't it just like him? I think it is perfect.
* Jack Bilbo, real name, Hugo Baruch (1907 -1967) was a German-Jewish self-taught painter and sculptor, and gallerist. Soon after Hitler came to power in 1933 and the Nazis confiscated his parent's theatrical supplies business in Berlin, he fled. Initially to France and thence to Spain. Subsequently, he came to England in around 1936. Despite being Jewish, soon after the outbreak of WW2 he was arrested for being a German National and placed as an ‘enemy alien’ in the Onchan Interment Camp on the Isle of Man. However, he was released some six months later and went on to found the Modern Art Gallery (1941–48) in London as a platform ‘against Hitlerism’. Many other German and Austrian born Jews were held in confinement by the British authorities for a considerably longer time during the war.
I haven't seen Leo for weeks but I saw Ted the other night who told me he had been in bed with flu. Bill* told me he had heard from you. His beard really does suit him.
Write soon. Lots of love,
Clifford
* Bill is W. S. Meadmore, author of a number of biographies about such disparate characters as Buffalo Bill (1952) and Lucien Pissaro (1962), described by George Melly, who rented a room in his house, 7 Margaretta Terrace, off Oakley Street, in the late forties and early fifties, as 'author and civil servant, expert on the history of the circus, chain smoker, and kind-hearted ogre' (George Melly, Owning Up, Weidenfeld, London 1965). A characteristic letter of Bill's is quoted in Melly's very amusing account of him.
Late Winter,1940 (around February early March, precise date unknown)
Saturday
Dearest,
I had your last letter this afternoon. The other one reached me, the one with the chemist's bill. I replied to that the other day and I expect you have it by now. I wrote it from Putney.
I am terribly sorry you are having such a rotten time and I do feel for you. Things are getting rather tough here and if I could not work, which I can better than ever, I hardly know what I would do. Everyone is clamouring for money and as far as making any goes it is very bad just now. I will pay the chemist when the Leicester pay me - so far they have not done so and it would be a mistake to ask them; but it is sure to come this month.
I always did say the county was horrid* and when this wretched war is over I promise you you need never go to it again. The can is in part working order now, one throws a bucket of water down it each time.
* Clifford had a peculiar aversion to the county of Dorset in southwest England.
I still have no water in the tap as the whole plumbing of the building is in a state of chaos, or chassis, and you know how long it takes Garlechs to get a job done.
I did not see anything about the Government buying war pictures and |I can hardly believe it but if it is true, they may buy something when the Stafford Gallery show of war pictures happens in the early spring.
Yesterday I had a wonderful time with the ballet painting and I have been at it again today. It is coming very well. I saw Bill last night. He, like everyone else, is suffering from burst pipes.
I wish I could come and see you, and also help you with the move but I simply have not got the fare. I am sorry the new place has disadvantages but still it could not be worse than Iwerne Minster, I wish I could send you some extra money. The class sometimes makes ten bob profit; sometimes if it's a bad night like several recently, snow or pelting rain, it is only four bob but on the whole it averages eight an evening. Little enough and I have to work to earn it but it is a bit of a help in paying Mrs Smith for the washing and getting a little paint now and again. I feel if I can only keep the way I feel now, keep it I mean for when times are easier, I will be able to paint so well I'll surprise you yet - because I will keep it if it's the last thing I do, and it is the only hope I have of eventually getting somewhere for your sake as well as mine. Luckily, I feel so strong and well and that means a hell of a lot.
I hope you have not got a cold and how are the chilblains? I have lost mine since I gave up sitting in that terribly cold Lyric Theatre making the forty or so studies for my picture. There was no heating there at all, so it's no wonder I got 'em.
Try not to worry Mog, I am quite sure everything will come right although it certainly is bad just now.
Knight* wrote me some weeks back saying he wanted to come and see me but I simply have not got the time when I am working. I was very miserable this week whilst I was at Putney. I spent hours looking out of the window at the ice on the river** but now I have started on the picture again I feel quite different.
* Knight may be the gentleman called S.A.Knight, who Clifford painted a portrait of in around 1930.
** The winter of 1939-40 in Britain was the severest of the 20th century and the River Thames did, indeed, freeze over in places for the first time since 1895 in January of 1940. However, as meteorological information was considered potentially helpful to the enemy, details of this extreme weather event were kept out of the press for the most part, making it difficult now to ascertain how long the ice on the Thames persisted. Clifford's letter suggests it was there for a good number of weeks. Ice Breaking on the Thames, January 1940
I am afraid this letter is all "I" from beginning to end and you must please forgive me for it.
How is the coal supply? Mine turned up yesterday instead of Wednesday but I suppose I was lucky to get it.
Some time ago I was looking through Bill's Illustrated London News volumes of the Crimean War period. I was looking for Guy's pictures. The leading article for November 11th (!) 1854 was called "Why we are fighting and what we are fighting for." Alter a few names and it might have been a speech by Churchill. No advance at all.
I am glad Julian is well. Lots of love to you dearest Mog and to him too.
Clifford
By the middle of March, Marion and Julian, along with her sister Pearl and her husband, Peter, and their two children, had moved to Barnes Hill, Milton Abbas, Blandford, Dorset, while Clifford continued to live at his studio in London.
15 March, 1940
Friday
Dearest Mog,
I arrived here about 8.30 last night and found everything nice and clean after Mrs Smith's visit last Saturday. Nothing of interest has happened since I left. Only Steve has got himself a brown velvet suit but it will take more than that to make him paint.
I did so enjoy being with you and I hope somehow you will be able to go to East Meon and that I will see you there. Or that it will not be too long before I am able to come to Milton Abbas again. And I think Julian is really sweet and I am very fond of him.
I find I left my mirror. Do not bother to send it on as I have another one I can manage with quite well.
No news yet about the National Gallery. I am going over to Putney tomorrow and I will see Stanley and Harry one evening next week.
Give my love to Pearl and tell her I hope I was not too much trouble.
Lots of love to you and Julian and write to me soon.
Clifford
PS
I sent off the stuff for your finger first thing this morning. I do hope it gets better soon.
8 April,1940
Monday
Dearest Mog,
I was glad to hear Julian's present arrived safely. Yes, they did rather appeal to me. I am perfectly certain he will be all right and you should not worry about him. And although it is natural, it is silly to worry until something happens and I am sure it won't.
I think that it is pretty certain that I will come and see you again next month. I want to get my picture going well and also there are one or two things in the air, just at the moment, that may come to something.
I saw Whitworth yesterday - he has been having a bad time and told me that poor Mabel had been pinched for some debt or another and was in gaol*. He was trying to raise the money to get her out. He didn't ask me for any, however, I suppose he guessed it would be hopeless, but I was able to buy him a drink which cheered him a little.
* Mr Whitworth was the proprietor of the Kings Galleries in the Kings Road, Chelsea. Mabel Frederick was his business partner, and she was imprisoned for non-payment of rates in 1940.
Mother said that she was going to try to write to you this week but she is really worn out with everything and has not much energy for such things. I told her you would understand and not to worry about it. Father is a lot weaker and I cannot imagine that he can go on very long, nor do I think he wants to, from what he said.
I am looking forward to seeing you again and I promise you I will in May.
Let me know about Julian and don't worry yourself about him. Also, if the letter with the notes got to you.
Love
Clifford
3 May, 1940
Chelsea, Friday
Dearest Mog,
Here is the £2. I am waiting to hear from you how much more you will want for the train fare. I hope everything is going well and that nothing can stop you coming here on the 11th, as we hope. I have just phoned the Coach Station and they tell me that there is a coach leaving Dorchester on the 11th at 12.45, arriving Victoria at 8 o'clock - return fare 17/6. As all train fares have gone up, I should imagine that the return fare will be about 25 shillings. If that is the case I should still come by train as it would be a far easier journey for you.
Looking forward to hearing from you next week. All my love to you and Julian,
Clifford
PS
Saturday morning,
Your last letter has just arrived. I will do my best to send you the next lot of money before you leave - certainly I will send some of it. Trouble is I do know when they will pay me for the picture but I will have to raise a loan on the strength of the sale. Would you be able to manage if I send you another pound to reach you not later than Friday next? I am terribly sorry to bother you with all this money business but don't let it worry you. I will arrange it I promise. Don't forget to say where the train arrives. I am looking forward so much to having you.
PPS
Later. I have re-examined the financial position and find it is possible to send £2.10 now, which I am doing. Let me know, by return, how much more will be needed and I will send it.
Blitz
CLIFFORD HALL'S JOURNAL ~ 1939 - 1942 P2
including letters written to his wife Marion and some other correspondence
8 May, 1940
Wednesday morning
Dearest,
I have just had your letter and the cheque. I hope the dentist put things right yesterday. You must have a good rest whilst you are here. I think you need it. I will be at Victoria coach station at 8 o'clock on Saturday; that is the time they said the 12.45 from Dorchester would arrive. I think you have to change at Bournemouth. As there is nearly nine bob difference it does seem best to come this way. Better spend the money on something useful, or just waste and enjoy it, and stay with me an extra day more than you intended to make up for the time lost in travelling. Here is the other ten shillings.
It's only three days to Saturday and I am longing to see you. If I do not hear from you, I will be at Victoria - eight o'clock.
All my love
Clifford
20 May, 1940
Chelsea. Monday
Dearest Mog,
I have just got your card. Glad you had a good journey. I wish you could have stayed longer, the time went too quickly. Everything looks bad but let's hope we will see each other again before long. Write again soon and tell me how Julian is and don't forget to tell him that I mean what I say about the white rat!
Funny about Peter - did he get your card in time?
I saw the Kersleys last night and Ted talked for about 2 hours without stopping and sound sense. They were both very sorry we had not been able to see them last week and they both send you their love. Also saw father yesterday. He seemed much worse. I will write again soon. I want to get this off quickly in case you want the money.
Love to you both
Clifford
PS
I have taken old Fishface's cupboard. It fits into the kitchen nicely. It was a good idea of yours and I am sure you will find it useful when you come back. I saw Mrs Hart and told her we wanted it and she said she would only have had it broken up. I don't think there is anything else worth grabbing.
22 May, 1940
Chelsea, Wednesday
Dearest,
Thanks for your letter. Of course I have missed you. I have been miserable since you left. The news too has been shockingly bad and I cannot settle to anything.
I did make some enquiries from Michael. The training, he says, lasts for nine months and one is only paid 30 shillings a week, and of course one has to work factory hours. Honestly, I feel I would sooner be in the army. The thing has got so big now that I would sooner wait until my turn comes. I know I will loathe every second of it but I would feel a bit of a rat if I avoided it. After all I am of no more importance than anyone else. I expect I will be able to get a commission after a few months of training here and that would mean more training here so cheer up the war might be over by then.
I spent last night at Hampstead and Bill and I consulted the planchette. It started to write quite clearly after a few minutes and again gave November for the end of the war and was very emphatic that we would win. What does yours say?
As things appear at present the situation could hardly be much worse, yet it was as bad for a while during the last war and we won and we will again this time. But on the face of it the mistakes already made on our side are hardly credible.
Can you remember where you put the photo? I cannot see it about. I remember that I asked you to put it away somewhere last Friday.
I am very thankful that you came when you did. It was a happy week and I only wish it could have lasted longer and that I could have done more for you. It seems utterly impossible to make any plans at present; we can only wait and hope things will turn in our direction.
I enclose a letter from Hunter which you might like to read. Send it back when you write next.
Peter Jones called for the cot yesterday. Tell me again about the harness you want for Julian, it seems to have gone out of my head, and I will get it next week when I will have some money.
I hope you got the 10 bob. All my love to you both.
Clifford
PS
I don't see why Julian should not be heavier than the book says if he wants to be. Such books only concern themselves with the average and that has nothing to do with us or him.
The Family of Marion Hall, née Zass, (1903-1974)
This is the Zass family, in a photograph taken in Spring 1901, in London, before Marion and her sister Pearl were born. The father is Lewis Leon Zass, born December 1864 in Vilna, Vilnius, Lithuania. He died in 1948. His wife is Esther Zass, née Zaretska, born in Spring 1864, in Cherkassy, central Ukraine. She died in 1927. She is seen holding baby Florence, who was born in June 1900 and died just 8 years later. The four children in the foreground are, from left to right, Lena (aka Zena). Born November 1893, died March 1952. Stanley Solomon. Born January 1896. Died ----. Harry. Born August 1898, died -----. Sybil. Born January 1891, died March 1976.
It is known that Leon and Esther both came to England as Jewish refugees fleeing the pogroms in the Russian Empire, some time in the early to mid 1880s. They met in each other in London and started a dressmaking business in the East End of London. They lived in Mrydle Street, Whitechapel. Subsequently, they moved to Chiselhurst Road in the London suburb of Richmond, Surrey.
Clifford and Marion probably met for the first time at the Richmond School of Art in the early 1920s, or possibly a little later at the Putney School of Art.
In happier times - Clifford and Marion on holiday. Probably taken while they were in France.
Clifford Hall with his parents, Clifford Henry and Isobella Hall, and his first wife, Marion Hall neé Zass. While it seems likely that this photograph was taken at the time of Clifford and Marion's wedding on April 25th, 1933, the building in the background appears to be a church rather than Fulham Registry Office where the wedding took place. Clifford's parents were both quite devout Christians and therefore may well have been disappointed at a registry office wedding, although there is no evidence at all that they opposed the marriage. Some of Marion's family definitely converted to Christianity, but it's not clear if Marion herself ever did. However, Clifford and Marion's son, Julian, was brought up as a Christian.