Sir Henry Wood: A Tribute from Harriet Cohen

A year ago I published a short tribute from Sir Arnold Bax to Sir Henry Wood on the occasion of that great conductor’s 75^th birthday in Homage to Sir Henry Wood. A number of eminent musicians contributed to this volume including Ernest Ansermet, Leopold Stokowski, Alan Bush, RVW and Yehudi Menhuin. Bax’s mistress, the beautiful Harriet Cohen also made a short homage which is quite revealing- especially her ‘name-dropping’ of Richard Strauss and Jean Sibelius. However, it is a heartfelt tribute from one of the best loved pianist of her generation.

For many musicians in this country the Jubilee in the Spring of 1944 of Sir Henry Wood, our most beloved English conductor, is an exciting and happy occasion. Considering the enormous amount of work entailed in a conductor’s life – performing, rehearsing, studying, travelling, etc. – it must be unique to come through fifty years, vigorous and buoyant, as Sir Henry has done; he seems to me younger than ever. Two aspects of Sir Henry immediately come to mind: one is his never-diminishing youthfulness and freshness, the other is the sum of these qualities which have made him so remarkable a pioneer of the best modern music of the whole world.

Sir Henry has a marvellous way of putting young artists at ease: he interests himself in their career and is young with them. That was part of his genius to recognize the line in which some of the young artists would eventually excel. Richard Strauss told me once that he thought the whole world benefited by Sir Henry’s introduction of notable modern music into the English concerts. It was really thrilling to hear such praise. When I was in Helsinki, Sibelius [1] talked for hours about Sir Henry and his amazing achievements.

One could never exhaust the stories about Sir Henry’s astounding capacity for work; his catholic range and understanding, his loyalty and utter devotion to his Art; it has been a great happiness to most English musicians to see their artistic blossoming under the genius of Sir Henry’s direction.

Harriet Cohen. Homage to Sir Henry Wood, p.20 (LPO Booklets, Welwyn Garden City,1944)

Notes

[1] Harriet Cohen was introduced to Jean Sibelius in London during the composer’s visit in 1921. Fifteen years later, Cohen journeyed to Finland with Arnold Bax. During this time she had long chats with Sibelius in Helsinki and the composer’s home in Ainola. It is a conversation that deserves investigation. Wikipedia reports that Sibelius even wrote here the opening chord of his Eighth Symphony which was never published. 

Harriet Cohen: Chopin Nocturne, Op.15 No.1 in F major.

On 19^th April 1943 Harriet Cohen recorded three works by Frederic Chopin for Columbia – the Nocturne in F major, Op.15, No.1 and Studies No.1 in F major and No.2 in A flat major of the Trois Nouvelles Études. They were released in February 1946 on the 78rpm disc DX1231.

In her book Music’s Handmaid (London, Faber & Faber 1936) Harriet Cohen has given a comprehensive study of this Nocturne. This is largely aimed at students and performers with its detailed technical analysis of the work. However, her opening general remarks bear repeating:-

‘I have chosen this Nocturne, because it is to my mind by far the most beautiful, the most sincere and characteristic of all Chopin’s Nocturnes.

Chopin was influenced by the Irish composer John Field who lived from 1782 to 1837. He studied Field’s works very closely and used them as models for his Nocturnes. Field wrote very simple harmonies and elaborated his melodies by embroidering them with fanciful runs and turns. It is very interesting to learn that on Chopin’s first public appearance as a performer he played a concerto by this composer.

In this Nocturne Chopin already seems to have got away from his immature style which followed closely that of Field, and perhaps provides one of the reasons why Chopin’s music has often been called drawing-room music. In this Nocturne he has already become much more personal and to me, at any rate, this work expresses the passionate, virile, masculine Chopin of the great works, such as the B flat minor Sonata, the Barcarolle etc.

The first person I ever hear play this piece was Paderewski, and the principal thing in this performance was the almost painful beauty of his singing tone in the right-hand melody-that tone which stabbed one to the heart’.

I agree with the reviewer (A.R.) in The Gramophone (February1946) that this ‘Nocturne’ is one of the most beautiful of the set that clearly displays two contrasting sides of the composer’s nature.  The F major ‘Nocturne’ was written in 1832 and was issued with No.2 in F sharp major and No.3 in G minor as part of Chopin’s Op.15.  They were dedicated to the German composer and pianist Ferdinand Hiller who was resident in Paris between 1832-1835.

This present Nocturne is written in straightforward ternary form. The opening and closing sections are signed ‘Andante Cantabile’ with the additional instructions to be played ‘semplice e tranquillo’ and ‘sempre legatissimo’ (as smoothly as you can). The middle section is ‘con fuoco’ –with fire. Maurice Hinson, in his Guide to the Pianist’s Repertoire, suggests that the opening cantilena has some daring harmonies, however, the middle section requires a powerful left hand.

The interpretive principle of this work is to point up the huge emotional contrast between the innocence of the opening music and the restless vigour of the middle section where the ‘waves of emotion’ are finally brought under control. 

Some writers have rather poetically seen this Nocturne as ‘describing’ a ‘calm and beautiful lake, ruffled by a sudden storm and becoming calm again.’  It is fair to suggest that this is not a ‘nocturnal’ work – there is sunlight in the opening and closing sections, and whilst the sky darkens in the ‘con fuoco’ it is never pitch black. 

‘Classics Today’ website suggest that Harriet ‘underplays the agitated middle section of the ‘nocturne’’ which to a certain extent I agree with. I compared Harriet’s interpretation of this work with that of Vladimir Ashkenazy and feel that he manages create this essential contrast with great power but without over-exaggeration.

The Gramophone reviewer of Harriet’s recording suggests that the ‘rubato’ (‘stolen time’ in which some of the notes are given longer or shorter time values without upsetting the rhythm) is a little wayward. He submits that she does not gain the same freedom with her left-hand which sounds a ‘bit laboured.’ I am not convinced she was having problems with her left hand: it seems perfectly strong and balanced to me.  Yet I agree with him that Harriet’s slower tempo resulted in a ‘more expressive quality in her playing.’  Many years ago, the critic Ehlert had suggested that the little ‘decoration’ that Chopin gives to the repetition of the slow theme should be played as if ‘brushed with the gentle wings of a butterfly.’  This is just the mood that Harriet achieves.

For a recording of its date (1943) it is impressive and fully captures Harriet’s beautiful singing tone. The bass register is effective and the listener to this historical recording does not feel that they have lost a great deal of the piano’s resonance and power.

Harriet Cohen’s Nocturne in F major can be heard on APR7304. However there is an unrestored recording of this work at the British Library ‘Sounds’ collection. 

Harriet Cohen: Debussy’s Claire de Lune & La Cathédrale engloutie

I have always loved Claude Debussy’s ‘Clair de Lune’ from the Suite bergamasque. In fact, the orchestral version of this work was one of the earliest pieces of French music that I can consciously recall. A few months ago, I reviewed the excellent 3-disc set of Harriet Cohen’s ‘Complete Solo Studio Recordings’ released on APR Recordings APR7304.  I had first come across an old record of Harriet playing ‘Cornish Rhapsody’ back in the 1970s and was suitably captivated. I concluded my review by noting that ‘the reader may well divine that I am still half-in-love with Harriet some 40 years after first discovering her: that may well be true. However, I would challenge any person to listen to her performance of Debussy’ Clair de Lune and not be impressed, challenged and moved’. This performance has since become a regular feature of my listening pleasure. The original 12” 78rpm record also featured Debussy’s evocative ‘La Cathédrale engloutie’ from Book 2 of the Preludes.  The two pieces were recorded on 26^th January 1948 on Columbia DX1496 priced 5/9d (29p).

The Gramophone reviewer (September 1948) writes: - The disc unfortunately came too late for review last month, in which list it appeared. Many people will doubtless have bought this recording of two of Debussy’s most popular piano pieces, and I imagine that most of them will be enjoying Miss Cohen’s playing by now. She gets the atmosphere of both pieces beautifully. I particularly like the Cathédrale, which she builds to a fine climax with big and full tone most excellently recorded. (There are some wonderful whacking bass notes.)

In ‘Clair de Lune’ she avoids any over-sentimentalising which may disappoint some people, but the piece is so often revoltingly slushed over by popular cafe ensembles these days that if there are people whom they lead astray, they would do well to get used to Debussy’s exquisite piece as it is played here. Altogether an attractive disc.’

Both pieces require considerable strength of pianism to play well. E. Robert Schmitz has written about ‘Clair de Lune’ that ‘the extraordinary popularity obtained by this composition should not induce the musician to underrate its importance. After all, not all that is popular is trivial.’  He goes on to suggest that this piece is ‘slaughtered in public more often than revealed.’  Debussy himself has written that this piece ‘...is inscribed in Nature. It must be in intimate accord with the scenery.’

Writing in her exploration of piano music Music’s Handmaid, Harriet Cohen begins by suggesting that many pianists had told her that they ‘really did not know what to do with this piece.’ From her point of view she understood this work to be of ‘no great technical difficulty, easy to memorise, rather quiet, and not very quick.’  She is correct in acknowledging that all listeners know and love this piece. It has unfortunately become a work that is ‘hackneyed’ by amateurs. She believes that ‘its apparent simplicity is a delusion and a snare, and because it is so easily and quickly learned, its inner message may never reveal itself.’ Her pupils that presented this piece for a lesson have often not dedicated much time to its interpretation and preparation: they rather hope that somehow it will ‘come off.’ Before it is halfway through, however, it is clear that it has not succeeded. Her major critical premise about ‘Clair de Lune’, as well as most of Debussy’s other piano works is that colour and rhythm are interdependent. 

‘La Cathédrale engloutie’ is the most ‘mystic’ of the ‘Preludes’. It is programmatic and makes clear the old Breton legend that Lalo had used in his opera Le Roi d’Ys. The story tells how on occasion the cathedral of Ys will rise at dawn out of the sea. The bells are tolling the monks are singing matins. After a while it slowly sinks back into the sea and to rest.  Debussy has made use of a ‘Gregorian’ melody which is supported by medieval organum. This means musical parts moving largely in parallel chords. There are three main themes in this piece –the plain chant and the organ, the quiet sea and the surge of the sea. There is a ‘bell’ motive heard at the climax of the piece.  

Harriet Cohen: The Complete Studio Recordings

I will not be the first person to have fallen into the trap of regarding Harriet Cohen as being merely a ‘pendant’ of Sir Arnold Bax. To be fair, I first heard of her through my early ‘study’ of Bax back in the nineteen seventies.  The received wisdom suggested that for three decades, she ‘pursued a tempestuous affair with this composer’. When she suddenly discovered that she was not slated to become Lady Bax on the death of his wife, she had an ‘accident’ and cut her wrist whilst carrying a tray of glasses…

Certainly, her colourful personal life has distracted attention away from her achievements in the ‘recital room’ or recording studio. Stephen Siek, in the liner notes, suggests that Harriet ‘as a young woman was beguilingly beautiful, and [that] she rarely hesitated to advance her career through charm and even seduction.’  He mentions her liaisons ‘real or imagined’ with ‘men ranging from H.G. Wells to Ramsey MacDonald.’  Another issue that causes the biographer problems is Harriet’s tendency to fabricate –Siek notes that her autobiography is filled ‘with self-aggrandizing inaccuracies that must be carefully sifted from the truths that it also contains.’

The ‘gossip’ has partially obscured a pianist who was not only great but inspired. Her interpretation of Bach would have been sufficient to have established her reputation for all time. However, as this present collection of recordings proves, her achievement extends in many directions.

Out of interest, W.S. Meadmore quotes a story in the Gramophone Magazine from 1929: ‘When Busoni met Harriet Cohen he looked at her hands and said: "These are the smallest and worst, hands I have ever seen. It would be impossible to play the piano with them. You must give music up." Miss Cohen played to him. He was astonished. He could hardly credit that such hands could make such fine music.’

A few highlights of Harriet’s life and achievements may be of interest to those who have not come across her before.  Harriet Pearl Alice Cohen was born in Brixton, London on 2 December 1895 into a largely musical household. Her father, Joseph, was an amateur cellist and composer and her mother, Kathleen Irene, was an accomplished pianist.  After piano lessons with her mother, Harriet attended the Tobias Matthay Pianoforte School. Other pupils at that time included Myra Hess. In 1908, she gave her first recital – a Chopin Waltz at the Bechstein Hall! Shortly after this, she won an Ada Lewis Scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music where she was one of the star pupils. Harriet won ‘a string of awards’ including the Sterndale Bennett, the Edward Nicholls and the Hine prizes.  She continued her studies with Felix Swinstead and Matthay himself. Whilst at the Academy she was introduced to Arnold Bax and became part of the ‘set’ that adored all things Russian in the wake of Diagalev’s ballet triumphs in London.

One of Harriet Cohen’s achievements was the ‘discovery’ of the significant vein of keyboard music by Tudor and other ‘early music’ composers. This included works by Orlando Gibbons, William Byrd and Henry Purcell.  Another important interest was of Spanish music: she gave the second performance of Manuel da Falla’s Nights in the Gardens of Spain and subsequently performed it many times.

However, her major achievement must be regarded as her exposition of J.S. Bach. The German critic Adolph Weissmann stated that ‘…so deeply has the spirit of the master entered into her that she has few, if any, equals as a Bach player’ and no less a person than Alfred Einstein insisted that ‘she is one of those chosen few who stand among the elect.’  The Times obituary writer notes that Harriet played Bach ‘with great musicianship, precision, buoyancy and an emotional tact which refuses ever to aim at effects outside a true Bach style.’

Over the years, Harriet gave the first performances of a number of important works by contemporary British composers. These included the Piano Concerto by Ralph Vaughan Williams and Bax’s Symphonic Variations. William Walton’s Sinfonia Concertante was introduced by her to France, Spain, Germany and Austria.  European composers including Ernst Bloch and Bela Bartok dedicated works to her. The Soviet composers Kabalevsky and Shostakovich provided her with new pieces: they are represented on these CDs.

Harriet officially retired from public life in 1960. Thereafter she devoted much of her time to the Harriet Cohen International Music Awards and the writing of her autobiography A Bundle of Time. She died on 13 November 1967.

It is not my intention to discuss every number on this superb three CD set – there are 58 tracks each deserving comment and analysis. However, I will mention a few highlights – at least from my perspective.

The lion’s share (32 tracks) of this recording is given over to the music of J.S. Bach. There are three main groupings here. Firstly, there is the important keyboard concerto – No.1 in D minor (BWV1052). This is presented here in two versions – one dating from 1924 and the other from 1946. Both are beautifully stated performances; however the later one is naturally clearer and casts more light on the contrapuntal working out of the piece.  Lewis Foreman has noted that Harriet was ‘celebrated in her day’ for performances of this work.  Once one makes the ‘mental leap’ of hearing this work on the piano as opposed to the clavier, it can be appreciated as a most enjoyable execution. I feel that this music is perfectly poised and ultimately cool in mood.

The ‘pioneering recordings’ of part of Book 1 of Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier are critical to Harriet’s career. Apparently, Columbia proposed to issue the entire ‘48’ however, the project never got beyond the first nine. Her playing of these pieces is pretty near perfect. I accept that there have been many fine interpreters of these works – my current favourite is Andreas Schiff. However, Harriet’s commitment to these masterpieces of the keyboard art is impeccable and combines a superb technical approach to the music with a ‘lofty intellectual perception’, which is outstanding. It is only a pity that the set was never completed.

The last element of the Bach recordings is probably less-popular these days – the transcriptions. Perhaps the most famous transcriber of Bach’s music is Busoni; however many other composers turned their hand to this form of arrangement, including Franz Liszt, Max Reger and Sergei Rachmaninov. Harriet also contributed to this genre with a number of pieces including the lovely ‘Beloved Jesus, we are here’ (BWV731) and the stately ‘Sanctify us by thy Goodness’ from Cantata No.22.

It may seem a heresy to many readers when I admit that I am not a huge fan of Mozart’s and Brahms’ piano music.  Naturally, I accept that they are both masters of the keyboard, and concede that it is just the fact that I have not got to grips with their music.  However, I enjoyed the classical and ‘unsentimental’ rendering of the Mozart’s C major Sonata K330. The liner notes rightly admit to the somewhat ‘erratic’ tempos of the first movement – one might call it ‘eccentric.’ However, the slow movement is beautiful and the concluding rondo is perfectly paced.

I am convinced that other reviewers will extoll the virtues of Harriet’s Chopin and Brahms recordings. Certainly, I found her interpretation of the Études attractive, if not revelatory.

The Brahms Ballade in D minor is a ‘big’ work that was inspired by a grisly Scottish ballad tune, ‘Edward’.  Harriet’s performance is expansive and well-balanced. The closing bars of pianissimo are in perfect contrast to the macabre earlier pages.  The Intermezzo in B flat minor is a little lighter in mood, but is still introspective.

I noted above that Harriet took up Falla’s Nights: alas, there is no recording of this work available. However, this collection includes three pieces for solo piano from his pen.  I have always sworn by Alicia de Larrocha for my Spanish piano music; however, Harriet’s performances of ‘Andaluza’, ‘The Fisherman’s Tale’ and ‘The Miller’s Dance’ are beholden to no one. The balance between the fire, the passion and the sultry heat are all ‘present and correct’. These performances are amongst the highlights of a set of CDs full of highlights!

Stephen Siek notes that Harriet’s favourite ‘a cappella’ work was William Byrd’s five-voice mass:  Elizabethan music certainly appealed to her as can be heard in the five short pieces from Orlando Gibbons – ‘Ayre’, ‘Alman’, ‘Toy’, ‘Coranto’ and ‘Mr Sanders his Delight’. I have to admit that I prefer these pieces played on the piano than on the virginal - irrespective of musicological mores. There is a wistful and melancholic beauty about these timeless pieces that defies analysis. I do wish that she had recorded more music from this period. These pieces were taken from Margaret Glyn’s groundbreaking edition of the composer’s works, first published in 1922. Harriet also included Ralph Vaughan Williams heart-breaking Hymn Tune Prelude on [Gibbon’s] Song 13. I feel that this is one of the most moving pieces that RVW composed.

It is naturally good to have everything that Harriet recorded from the pen of Arnold Bax.  The powerful and demanding Paean (Passacaglia) certainly gives the lie to those critics who suggested that her small hands limited her technique. She brings a magic to the ‘Hill Tune’ and to ‘A Mountain Mood’, which is quite simply perfect. Harriet underscores both works’ largely impressionistic nature.  The Morning Song (Maytime in Sussex) which was dedicated to Princess Elizabeth on her 21^st birthday is one of Bax’s lighter pieces. Like many of his late works, it has been considered as lacking in inspiration. However, for me it is a delight and manages to portray the idealised landscape, which seemingly inspired it.

One of the pleasures (for me) of the entire set of discs is the highly charged, romantic and very overblown – but gorgeous Cornish Rhapsody from the Gainsborough picture Love Story starring Margaret Lockwood. This performance was used on the film soundtrack.

The liner notes by Stephen Siek are excellent and constitute a major essay on Harriet Cohen’s recording career. It certainly bears careful study both before and after hearing the music. It would have been nice to have had dates for Messrs. Gibbons, Bax, and Bath et al: they were given for many of the other composers. There are some excellent photographs of Harriet of both the studio and the ‘snap’ variety. The CDs themselves are crammed full of music. I guess that they only just managed to fit in all this music on the three CDs.  They are superb values for money -the three discs are available for around £19.

I have never been a great enthusiast for ‘historical recordings.’ For one thing, I never know quite what to expect from the sound quality. Listeners are so used to a pristine reproduction of sound and look askance at any clicks or hiss. The present three CDs certainly have some hiss. Could it have been removed? I guess not. However, I was impressed by the general sound, the pitch seems to be ‘perfect’ and there is little evidence of where the 78 r.p.m. records would have needed to be ‘turned over.’

Yet to possess these three discs I am prepared to forgo my usual reticence to listen to historical recordings. In fact, I would go as far to say that I would give an arm and a leg to hear these tracks – complete with a bit of surface noise.

The reader may well divine that I am still half-in-love with Harriet some 40 years after first discovering her: that may well be true. However, I would challenge any person to listen to her performance of Debussy’ Clair de Lune and not be impressed, challenged and moved.

CD1

J. S. BACH (1685-1750) Keyboard Concerto No 1 in D minor BWV1052 Orchestra /Sir Henry Wood (1924)

J. S. BACH The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I: Preludes & Fugues Nos. 1-9 BWV846 - BWV854 (1928)

BACH/RUMMEL Mortify us by thy grace, from Cantata No 22 (1928)

BACH/COHEN Beloved Jesus, we are here BWV731 (1928)

CD2

J. S. BACH Keyboard Concerto No 1 in D minor BWV1052 Philharmonia Orchestra/ Walter Susskind (1946)

J. S. BACH Prelude & Fugue No 4 BWV849 from WTC Book 1 (1947)

BACH/COHEN Sanctify us by thy goodness; Beloved Jesus, we are here BWV731; Up! Arouse thee! from Cantata No.155 (1935)

BACH/PETRI Fantasia (Praeludium) in C minor BWV921 (1935)

Wolfgang Amadeus MOZART (1756-1791) Piano Sonata No 10 in C major K330 (1932)

Frederic CHOPIN (1810-1849) Nocturne Op 15 No 1; Trois Nouvelles Études Nos. 1 & 3 (1943); Étude Op 25 No 7 (1928)

CD3

Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897) Ballade in D minor Op 10 No 1; Intermezzo in B flat major Op 76 No 4 (1930)

Claude DEBUSSY (1862-1918) Clair de lune, from the Suite bergamasque; La cathédrale engloutie, No 10 from Préludes Book I (1948)

Manuel DE FALLA (1876-1846) Andaluza, No 4 from Pièces espagnoles; The Fisherman’s Tale, from El Amor Brujo; The Miller’s Dance, from The Three-Cornered Hat (1943)

Dmitri KABALEVSKY (1904-1987) Sonatina in C major Op 13 No 1 (1943)

Dmitri SHOSTAKOVICH (1906-1975) Prelude in E flat minor Op 34 No 14 (1943)

Orlando GIBBONS (1583-1625) Ayre – Alman – Toy – Coranto – Mr Sanders His Delight (1947)

GIBBONS/Ralph VAUGHAN WILLIAMS (1872-1958) Hymn Tune Prelude on Song 13 (1947)

Arnold BAX (1883-1953) Paean (1938); A Hill Tune (1942); A Mountain Mood –Them & Variations (1942) Arnold BAX Morning Song (Maytime in Sussex) Orchestra/ Dr Malcolm Sargent (1947) Arnold BAX ‘The Oliver Theme’ from the film Oliver Twist Philharmonia Orchestra/ Muir Mathieson (1948)

Hubert BATH  (1883-1945) ‘Cornish Rhapsody’ from the film Love Story London Symphony Orchestra/ Hubert Bath (1944)

HARRIET COHEN (1895 -1967)

The Complete Solo Studio Recordings

Harriet Cohen (piano)
APR Recordings APR7304

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published

Harriet Cohen and her Visit to Dartmouth Naval College

I recently found a volume of autobiography by the composer Vivian Ellis (1903-1996) in a second-hand bookshop near Leicester Square. He is, as Wikipedia inform us best known for his song ‘Spread a Little Happiness and his descriptive miniature tone poem Coronation Scot, which was used as the theme tune for the radio programme Paul Temple. However there is much more to the man than these two works. He was a composer, a pianist, a lyricist and stage show producer. Alongside this activity he seemed to know everyone in the music business- both ‘classical’ and ‘popular.’ His autobiography is called I’m on a See-Saw which is the name of one of his ‘greatest stage hits.’ Every page seems to have a good story, a witty anecdote or a surprising minor revelation. I have chosen a charming little paragraph about a wartime visit of the great pianist Harriet Cohen to Dartmouth College as a little taste...

"I even went in for a little Adult Education on my own account, by bringing Harriet Cohen, through E.N.S.A., down to Dartmouth College to give a piano recital to the cadets. She arrived at Kingswear station with rather a lot of luggage for one night, which had to be ferried across the Dart. It included a folding dumb piano, a huge suitcase obviously made of lead, a sandwich basket of equal proportions-although she apparently ate nothing-as well as a small but promising lending library. On her arrival at the College, she gaily announced she had left her spectacles in the train - which could be seen departing from the station-and not one note could she see (and the ominous word 'perform' hung unspoken in the air) without them. The station master, who had fortunately retrieved the missing spectacles, handed them to me at the end of my mad dash in a picket boat and all went according to plan. Miss Cohen, shivering in evening dress, held the audience with her personality and sheer quality of her playing, which, I noticed, was of her own high standard. She never made the mistake of playing down to her audience. Instead, she took them into her confidence and explained what she was about to play before each item. During her recital, a few of us heard about the loss of Singapore. There were a great many losses to bear in those days, and England bore many of them alone."
Ellis, Vivian I’m on a See-Saw: An Autobiography (London: Michael Joseph, 1953)