On the first Christmas Day after the end of the First World War, he wrote a letter to his long-standing Dutch friend, Richard Roland Holst, in which he recalled wartime habits and discussed remaining restrictions.
Your letter dated 13th arrived many days later; it has been on my table unanswered for countless good and bad reasons. Yes, the end came suddenly as a Japanese told me it would early in the war, yet the surprise was not what I should have imagined, nor even the sense of relief, the latter sensation has grown daily till, to-day Xmas, I am aware that something has been lifted from my life, yet, even now, old war habits continue – I pull down blinds, save bread; feel astonished at the return of old luxuries, – these by the way are few since the shortage of certain things is still a fact; paper for instance is rare, frames impossible, and probably for a long while artificial reasons will stop a return to normal things, let alone the danger of the Russian threat.
The signal of the Armistice found us without flags and, for several hours, our balcony was decorated with a banner I had painted for Jeanne d’Arc, in a stupid propaganda play, which happened to be in the cellars.
There was a prospect of change, thanks to Edmund Davis, who had offered them a second home outside London as a token of appreciation for their art advice. In the end, they would not be decorating a cottage, but a centuries-old tower, The Keep at Chilham Castle.
Your letter dated 13th arrived many days later; it has been on my table unanswered for countless good and bad reasons. Yes, the end came suddenly as a Japanese told me it would early in the war, yet the surprise was not what I should have imagined, nor even the sense of relief, the latter sensation has grown daily till, to-day Xmas, I am aware that something has been lifted from my life, yet, even now, old war habits continue – I pull down blinds, save bread; feel astonished at the return of old luxuries, – these by the way are few since the shortage of certain things is still a fact; paper for instance is rare, frames impossible, and probably for a long while artificial reasons will stop a return to normal things, let alone the danger of the Russian threat.
The signal of the Armistice found us without flags and, for several hours, our balcony was decorated with a banner I had painted for Jeanne d’Arc, in a stupid propaganda play, which happened to be in the cellars.
There was a prospect of change, thanks to Edmund Davis, who had offered them a second home outside London as a token of appreciation for their art advice. In the end, they would not be decorating a cottage, but a centuries-old tower, The Keep at Chilham Castle.
 |
| Chilham Castle Keep in 2021 [Photo © Phillip Halling, from: Geography.org.uk Creative Commons Attribution Share-alike license 2.0] |
A friend has promised us a small cottage in a lovely English village, Chilham near Canterbury. The spring may see us there, but it may take longer and, I fear the next year will see changes and troubles. Evil will not pass so readily. I hope next Xmas all this will seem like a pre-existence.
This war has proved the power of unknown forces of endurance and renewal, and these, for the moment, have prevailed. The sense of security is not as yet a habit, even now I sometimes think I hear the sound of guns, of possible distant raids, as I did a few months ago.
(Letter dated 25 December 1918. Typed transcription, BL Add MS 61718, ff 200–2).
In these times, we hear those sounds, not yet in Western European regions, but close enough to be alarming. Where some wars come to an end and others persist, there is no prospect of a world in which atrocities and border violations are not committed – although a young perspective on the world may offer the necessary, more encouraging outlook. Tyrants are never truly young, neither in their hearts nor in reality. Tyrants never represent the future.
