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Erica (Thorp) de Berry to Thorp family, 9 June 1918
Manuscript letter
June 9, 1918
Dearest People,
For the second time I have slipped up on one of my weekly letters, and I am so ashamed. My only excuse is that the days have been more than usually full, and that it has been so hard to write or settle down calmly to anything w[ith] the terrible uncertainty of the battle situation. Now we can at least draw breath, but no one can guess where it will begin again. To be in France and so far away from it has been almost unbearable. I’ve been praying that duty might somehow call [p. 2] me back to Paris, but on the contrary, there’s more than ever to do here to prepare for the groups of evacuated children they want to send us. We get 2-days old papers, and the communiques say so little –No inside[?] information can we have, unless by luck someone arrives from Paris, and the almost drives one distracted. The Lacaunais simply do not realize the war, and lead their peaceful lives as contentedly and uninterruptedly as if nothing were happening.
The other girls are still in Paris, Lucinda nursing at Dr Blades[?], Peggy working with the Forestry Dept and Rose still with the [??]. [p. 3 marked 2] They’re all too busy to write, so I get little Paris news. I haven’t heard from the [??] for ages.
But Douglas’s triumph and “ace-ship” perfectly thrilling! —Think of his being the first All-american [sic] —It’s almost too incredible to believe—, where one thinks of what that means — I haven’t heard a word from him, nor any of the others except Machado & Hugo. Machado’s was a typical 1st-line French epistle but so funny that he should be surveying or measuring or something for Willard!
A band of 16 arrived two days ago, so we are now 108. Also, a Red Cross Doctoress has come and our Abbé left, so there [p. 4] have been many changes in the household. She is a very nice, typical, straightforward simple New England type, not speaking a word of French w[ith?] altogether au courant with French ways. But she’s absolutely sensible, has a wonderful sense of humor and is very fond of the children. The Red Cross sent her primarily for the village where there is no doctor, so we arranged for her to give consultations there on certain days, and receive patients here also. No sooner had official announcement been made of this by the town-crier with his drum, then [crossed through, then written darker] suddenly a French doctor, long sought for, [p. 5 marked 3] appeared on the scene! So now she may not stay, if the Red Cross has more use of her elsewhere. She lives in one of the chalets and eats with me. It was the loveliest [sight?] to see her and the old abbé at opposite sides of the table, unable to exchange a word, and about as extreme contrasts opposites in type as one could find! – To give him a little cheering occupation one day, I suggested that he plant nasturtiums for her one day I wish you could have seen the picture — he working busily away, tripping over his long soutain,3 tearing up grass in the most approved Ardennes fashion, she following his every move in raging despair, heartily disapproving from a Vermont point of view, but unable to utter a word of protest [p. 6] It was killingly[?] funny! We had a sad mixup with the village abbé about the status of our por[sic] old abbé, the former making it so unpleasant for him that he finally left in utter disgust without waiting for the result of a comité conference with the Archbishop which we hoped would settle things. It has been most unfortunate and unpleasant and has certainly been a revelation to me of the power of l’Eglisê, and the evils of unscrupulous machinations.
I must run off to see our children march in the village procession for the Fete of the Sacre-Coeur. Everyone decorates their house fronts with flowers and flags & the little girls dress in white. It ought to be lovely.
Excuse this deadly letter. I cant [sic] seem to write intelligently these days.
Dearest love to all — Bun
Dearest People,
For the second time I have slipped up on one of my weekly letters, and I am so ashamed. My only excuse is that the days have been more than usually full, and that it has been so hard to write or settle down calmly to anything w[ith] the terrible uncertainty of the battle situation. Now we can at least draw breath, but no one can guess where it will begin again. To be in France and so far away from it has been almost unbearable. I’ve been praying that duty might somehow call [p. 2] me back to Paris, but on the contrary, there’s more than ever to do here to prepare for the groups of evacuated children they want to send us. We get 2-days old papers, and the communiques say so little –No inside[?] information can we have, unless by luck someone arrives from Paris, and the almost drives one distracted. The Lacaunais simply do not realize the war, and lead their peaceful lives as contentedly and uninterruptedly as if nothing were happening.
The other girls are still in Paris, Lucinda nursing at Dr Blades[?], Peggy working with the Forestry Dept and Rose still with the [??]. [p. 3 marked 2] They’re all too busy to write, so I get little Paris news. I haven’t heard from the [??] for ages.
But Douglas’s triumph and “ace-ship” perfectly thrilling! —Think of his being the first All-american [sic] —It’s almost too incredible to believe—, where one thinks of what that means — I haven’t heard a word from him, nor any of the others except Machado & Hugo. Machado’s was a typical 1st-line French epistle but so funny that he should be surveying or measuring or something for Willard!
A band of 16 arrived two days ago, so we are now 108. Also, a Red Cross Doctoress has come and our Abbé left, so there [p. 4] have been many changes in the household. She is a very nice, typical, straightforward simple New England type, not speaking a word of French w[ith?] altogether au courant with French ways. But she’s absolutely sensible, has a wonderful sense of humor and is very fond of the children. The Red Cross sent her primarily for the village where there is no doctor, so we arranged for her to give consultations there on certain days, and receive patients here also. No sooner had official announcement been made of this by the town-crier with his drum, then [crossed through, then written darker] suddenly a French doctor, long sought for, [p. 5 marked 3] appeared on the scene! So now she may not stay, if the Red Cross has more use of her elsewhere. She lives in one of the chalets and eats with me. It was the loveliest [sight?] to see her and the old abbé at opposite sides of the table, unable to exchange a word, and about as extreme contrasts opposites in type as one could find! – To give him a little cheering occupation one day, I suggested that he plant nasturtiums for her one day I wish you could have seen the picture — he working busily away, tripping over his long soutain,3 tearing up grass in the most approved Ardennes fashion, she following his every move in raging despair, heartily disapproving from a Vermont point of view, but unable to utter a word of protest [p. 6] It was killingly[?] funny! We had a sad mixup with the village abbé about the status of our por[sic] old abbé, the former making it so unpleasant for him that he finally left in utter disgust without waiting for the result of a comité conference with the Archbishop which we hoped would settle things. It has been most unfortunate and unpleasant and has certainly been a revelation to me of the power of l’Eglisê, and the evils of unscrupulous machinations.
I must run off to see our children march in the village procession for the Fete of the Sacre-Coeur. Everyone decorates their house fronts with flowers and flags & the little girls dress in white. It ought to be lovely.
Excuse this deadly letter. I cant [sic] seem to write intelligently these days.
Dearest love to all — Bun
Archives Number: 1006/004.006.002-006#024
U. S. National Park Service
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Courtesy of National Park Service, Longfellow House-Washington's Headquarters National Historic Site; Archives Number 1006/004.006.002-006#024
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Erica Thorp deBerry Papers (1006/004.006), (LONG-SeriesName)
, Correspondence, Outgoing (1006/004.006.002), (LONG-SubseriesName)
, 1918 (1006/004.006.002-006), (LONG-FileUnitName)
, Correspondence, Outgoing (1006/004.006.002), (LONG-SubseriesName)
, 1918 (1006/004.006.002-006), (LONG-FileUnitName)
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Longfellow House - Washington's Headquarters National Historic Site, Code: LONG
Longfellow House - Washington's Headquarters National Historic Site, Middlesex County, Massachusetts
Latitude: 42.3769989013672, Longitude: -71.1264038085938
Latitude: 42.3769989013672, Longitude: -71.1264038085938
NPS Museum Number Catalog : LONG 27930
Title: Finding Aid to the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) Family Papers, 1768-1972 (Bulk dates 1825-1950)
URL: https://www.nps.gov/long/learn/historyculture/archives.htm#HWLFP
URL: https://www.nps.gov/long/learn/historyculture/archives.htm#HWLFP
2018-11-29
06/09/1918
Manuscript letter in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Family Papers, Erica Thorp deBerry Papers, Correspondence, Outgoing. (1006/004.006.002)
Public Can View
Organization: Longfellow House-Washington's Headquarters National Historic Site
Address: 105 Brattle Street, Cambridge, MA 02138
Email: LONG_archives@nps.gov
Address: 105 Brattle Street, Cambridge, MA 02138
Email: LONG_archives@nps.gov
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