Laidlaw Auctioneers & Valuers: March 2014

Arriving at our saleroom this week was a wooden writing box containing long-forgotten secrets.

Unassuming, and Edwardian in date it had been found at the back of an airing cupboard where it had slumbered, undisturbed for some sixty years. Having a faux-marquetry exterior, it opens to reveal a purple velvet heart, with ink jar and pen slide. A perfectly preserved portal to the past, containing a cluttered confetti of clues.

Comprising a 1930s broken brooch, a premature souvenir-pencil marking the coronation of Edward VIII in May 1937, a wax seal with the letter ‘M’ or ‘W’ depending upon which way you hold it, an ink pen and birthday candles. Together with an early 20th Century needlework sampler worked by ‘A. Wyles’ dedicated to the month of May (‘With sun and dew / And gentle showers / Welcome Welcome / Month of Flowers’), a Victorian velvet choker, and a small wedding bouquet of white paper flowers. In this context, and nestled beneath a secret stationary compartment, was a bundle of love letters between wartime sweethearts Lawrence Frederick Heald, and his beloved ‘Nance’.

“I hope you got my telegram O.K darling, it was funny we drew for leave out of the hat. How I prayed my name would come out and my prayers were answered. Darling, how happy I am just to think that in a few days time I shall be in your arms. I hope sweetheart, that you will be able to make the arrangements so we can get married as soon as possible.” Written in blue ink on official Catterick Garrison notepaper, dated Monday 5th August 1940, the above line is taken from a series of pages that span a four year period.

Each sheet in the cache is saturated with a full spectrum of distilled human emotion. From affection, in its most tentative and confident forms, to anguish, courage, desire and despair, mixed together in equal measure with hope and hysteria. And yet it is, perhaps, the generous dose of innocence, combined with a heady-mix of fear and absolute, immediate danger, that are the most unknown elements to a modern heart. In a world where information is omnipresent, and safety a relative given, it is the lost quality of guileless love, combined with ever-present peril that make these letters so potent, and indeed important.

The letters were saved, smoothed out and placed in an alternating fashion, like layers of an onion or faded wallpaper. Within the fold are a number of newspaper cuttings featuring a swimmer called Annie Wilson, pointing to the identity of our mysterious ‘Nance’. In a teasing fragment of a letter, Fred writes; “I will not put TWO TON ANNIE on your envelope, but do not think I am afraid of a little mouse like you.” Fred however, we can identify fully, as in a charming letter confirming his wish for the pair to marry - at the beginning of his week-long leave, he adds a ‘P.S’ which includes ‘particulars’ that she may need to know in order to get a licence, informing her of his date and place of birth “23-5-1909, Stockton-on-Tees” and giving his profession as a “soldier”. Drawing to a close with one final; “P.P.S. I love you my own with all my heart”.

The pair met after a chance encounter at a county dance in Carlisle. Fred describes it beautifully; “Remember sweetheart, it must have been fate that got me to go to the county dance the night I met you. How I have thanked God for that meeting darling, and I shall always remember it because I met and fell madly in love with the finest girl in the world.” In the same letter Fred touches upon more current fears, he writes: ’You ask me if I would cry if you were killed. Although I am sure you will not be I would go mad if you were. You are the whole world to me and always will be. I could not live without you and your love. Never be afraid darling, even if the Raiders do come over remember you belong to a soldier.’

The knife-edge on which the pair’s love played out is all too apparent for the reader, and must have been excruciating to experience. Writing to each other every day, something as simple as a late post, or lost letter can stir up fraught emotions. Even Fred’s sudden telegram delivering good news about his unexpected leave, causes Nance distress when at first she receives it. She writes “… then came the telegram boy. I rushed round to open it, the only thought was were you both alright, had anything happened. Then darling I read it.” By both she also refers to her brother, who it seems has not been heard from in a long time. She also chastises Fred for failing to tell her how to arrange a wedding or indeed who his family or friends are. She complains “Freddie you didn’t say much in your letter. You didn’t say how many of your friends were coming, and you didn’t send me the addresses.” She is unaware that Fred’s friends are all also in the army and are therefore unable to attend. On the question of a best man he even writes “… could you get one for me darling?”

The build up to the wedding day is a torment, and as a reader you find yourself feeding off the fear falling from the pages. A few days beforehand Nance sums it up by writing “Just think that if nothing unforeseen happens in the next three days you will be my own.” While Fred worries about being seen as cowardly by turning down work in the run up. “I know you would agree with me for not putting in for that special job. I was a bit worried because I was thinking a lot of the fellows would think those who did not put in for it were cowards. Darling, although we are not yet married I consider it my duty to remain as near to you as possible.” He also reflects on Nance’s brother and their predicament “I am sorry to hear you do not know where Bobbie is. I wish he could have come. I think it will be best to have a quiet wedding darling. After all, it is the Wartime, and quiet weddings are fashionable.” He signs off with “Take care of yourself until I can take care of you.”

Thankfully a gap of one week here falls, and in this spot the happy couple were also rewarded with a telegram from the illusive Bobby. Confirming our girls name, being addressed to a Miss A Wilson, he writes “Sorry cant get home wishing you all the best for your future happiness = Bob” [sic].

If the letters before the wedding can be summed up in a desire to belong to one another, to be joined before the worst happens, then the letters following can be defined as a desire to begin again, the promise of a future together, living together, sharing a home and a family. All these things seem such a fantasy in their words. The prospect that they may not meet again, looming, ever present. First to break the wedding silence, Nance writes “I am here doing the same old things but this time it’s different, we belong to each other now, and will belong to each other forever. You took every bit of me and my love as I lay there, close beside you in your arms. The happiness those thoughts gave to me as I walked home alone from the station. As we stood there by the train how I wanted to tell you to take care of yourself but I just couldn't speak. Rather sweetly, and innocently she further alludes to their time spent together, writing “I thought I’d come back looking a wreck, as Jean said I would, but on the contrary I’ve never felt better in my life.” Jean’s experience must have been a little different!

The fear of the war is now met with a new strength, brought about by their joined force. Nance writes “you needn't worry my own, if the Jerries do come over I shouldn't even be afraid of anything so long as you are beside me Freddie. I don’t care if a dozen bombers come over. We’ll just stay in bed together, in each others arms.” Although she does have a plan of action for when his is not around; “they are over almost every night now, but its not often I hear them, I always sleep too well. […] I told our Helen that from now on she’ll have to sleep in decent jarmas, and you know what she said, she said ‘I sleep in my undies nearly every night ready to run’. What a laugh for anyone who might see our skinny Helen in her undies, she’s about as fat as a match’.

However the real and ever present danger of wartime is never far from the surface, with Fred being scrambled suddenly, and prepped for a departure abroad. He writes to Nance in the December of 1941 to give her the bad news, and her reply three days later is a testament to the strain. She writes “I got your letter on Friday night and my stomach dropped through me and my world nearly crashed down. […] I prayed as never before, all night long I prayed and the night seemed endless. And I held your letter so tight to me as I prayed. And when the morning came for me to go to work I was still on my knees.” Finally Fred manages to reach her by telephone to say the skirmish has been called off, it was a false alarm. Nance reflects on this, writing “Then oh my darling when I heard your voice I nearly cried with relief, did you hear me? Darling pray and pray hard that all is going to be well, I am Freddie.”

The letters between the pair, end as abruptly as they began, with a note from Nance dated Sunday 16th April 1944. Relaxed in its style, she informs him of her Easter weekend, what she has been eating and how a grouse claw that Bobbie sent her looks fine in her Harris suit. She also talks of a photograph Fred is having taken; “I am looking forward to having your photo with me. Now Freddie, get yourself planted in the middle and don’t let yourself look serious darling will you. Just relax. I do hope it comes out lovely, I’m looking forward to getting it Freddie, so keep smiling.” She signs off with “Oh I don’t half wish this war was over Freddie, and you were back with me again darling. […] Take great care of yourself for me, and heres all my love and kisses to you until we meet again. Goodnight and God Bless you, keep you safe now and always, yours forever and ever, your own loving wife Nance.”

There is no more. We do not know what happened to our pair. Did Nance ever get that photograph, and did Fred suppress his frown? The biggest question is did he ever return? Did they finally get their own home, start their own family and see out their years together? Did they enjoy the 50s, the swinging 60s, right through to the 1980s, and beyond? Did Nance forget their letters in her old writing box, being too busy making happy memories? Or did she choose to close the lid on that chapter in her life, and tuck it away, hidden from view. Their whole lifetime is now behind us, gone in the blink of an eye. A mystery, from which all remains is the memory. Brought back from the brink by a chance encounter with an old writing box.

I would love to hear from anyone who could help us close the final chapter on the story of Fred and Nance.

Georgina

Laidlaw Auctioneers & Valuers

Monday 17 March 2014

Medals, Arms & Militaria Auction: Final Entries Invited

Tuesday 11 March 2014

Finding Fred & Nance

Monday 10 March 2014

Dumfries Valuation Day

Lots to talk about

Medals, Arms & Militaria Auction

Next Antiques Auction

Monday 3 March 2014

Hexham Valuation Day