Love's Obsession Page 10
The winter of 1945 was bitter, the most severe for fifty years. People queued to buy coal since only the wealthy could pay black market prices; others in heavy overcoats picked through the wreckage of their streets and towns and boys played soccer amid the rubble—the only playground they had ever known. More than the weather was bitter. After the initial celebrations of V Day, when lights flooded the city for the first time in five years and people danced in the streets and drank to the peace, a sullen gloom descended. People longed to break with the past and, after five years of Conservative government, the Tories were overwhelmingly rejected, with Labour’s Clement Attlee taking office after a landslide election victory. Winston Churchill may have led the country through the war but no one wanted him to lead in peacetime.3 Most wanted to forget the past, but not everyone could. Soldiers returned to homes and families who scarcely recognised them. For years these men had lived regulated and regimented lives, alternately full of danger and boredom. Domesticity was not easily resumed, nor was domestic life the same. This war had been an industrial one, factories re-tooled, energy redirected and manpower replaced. Machines were geared to war and the gears were greased by women. They staffed factories, drove trucks, wore uniforms. For many the experience was liberating and some found a return to the past difficult. Marriages struggled to adjust. Children learned to obey two parents, one of whom they barely knew. As soldiers returned, divorce rates rose.
POWs returned to a world they no longer recognised. Those like Jim who had been captured in 1941 knew little of the progress of the war and were shocked by the physical evidence of its aftermath. Rocket blasts had shattered the windows of St Paul’s. Vegetables grew in the moat around the Tower of London. Waste bins collected scraps for pigs and food was rationed. But the wreckage of London and food shortages offered only a superficial understanding of what the country had endured. Returning prisoners were excited but fearful and fretful, unable to concentrate. Doctors warned they might be impotent and many worried they would shame themselves in public by swearing or forgetting to button their flies. Grown men shrank at the thought of meeting people, of entering a room full of strangers. Drink offered only temporary escape. A bottle of wine cost a staggering amount. Officers returned to their quiet dignified clubs to find a seething sea of grotesque, babbling Americans and flashy blondes.
Adjustment was no easier for their families. ‘I was very happy to have him home,’ said one wife, ‘and then you realised that you’ve not got the same man back … He still had a lot of the prisoner of war in him. Even now you can’t touch his things. In the prison camp they only had a certain limited space and what was theirs was their own and nobody touched it. It’s continued all his life and I have to be very, very careful. He wasn’t like that at all before he left.’ ‘Then the drinking started’, said another. ‘The war changed him. And what I still remember was him butting his cigarette out on the floor like he was still in the prison camp. He was just a completely different person to what he was.’4
Jim had spent years reading archaeology and planning for a future that he thought would mirror the past but the mirror had shattered. Imprisoned for four years, he had no sense of the changes wrought by years of war. England was impoverished and in debt. ‘Archaeology is pretty much at a standstill … I am not too optimistic’, lamented O.G.S. Crawford, who warned Jim there were few job opportunities. After years of confinement, Jim could not sit still. He had spent his internment gestating great plans for a survey of Cyprus, conceived in the months before the war. Not for the first time Jim’s fantasy overstretched reality.
Within a month of returning to England he bombarded friends and colleagues with ideas and letters and requests for support. He sent them long essays outlining the details and justification for the expense of his elaborate Cyprus proposal. Winifred Lamb congratulated him on the detail.5 A.W. Lawrence, Professor of Classical Archaeology at Cambridge and brother of T.E. (Lawrence of Arabia), thought the military language ‘superb’,6 but Donald Harden from the British Museum warned against being ‘overbold’ and doubted there would be sufficient numbers of trained archaeologists to conduct excavations. He spoke to Woolley about the proposal but warned Jim that ‘he is a bit choosy in his patronage of such activities!’7 Sir John Myers thought the proposal a ‘counsel of perfection’ but noted that Jim had made no estimate of cost.8 Myers sent the memo to the Archaeological Joint Committee and suggested that Jim also forward it to the Colonial Office and the War Office. Myers cautioned against creating a program that overlapped the functions of the Department of Antiquities in Cyprus, a recipe for potential conflict. From this distance it is hard to imagine that a poor and war-weary England would look on the proposal favourably, and the letters of support may well have been written out of concern for Jim’s state of mind, but Jim was not the only one convinced. Peter Megaw thought his idea a ‘promising’ one and had no doubt that a site survey of the island and site conservation works were needed. He did, however, have reservations, as he explained when writing from England to the Governor in Nicosia:
It was not possible for Stewart in Germany, where he prepared his memorandum, to picture accurately the present situation in Cyprus, and I suggest that if his scheme is approved in principle by all concerned it would be useful if Stewart went out to Cyprus to size it up before details of establishment, equipment and functions are finally fixed. If he did that I could work with him, when I return to London, on final terms of reference etc. … Stewart’s memorandum was considered last week by the Archaeological Joint Committee, a body on which the C.O. and the Treasury are represented and I understand that from the archaeological side they are giving it full support. I hope that the War Office will be equally sympathetic.9
The War Office was not. English officials had little faith in the Cyprus Regiment. Over seven hundred Cypriot Communists had eventually joined the regiment and the War Office doubted they could be trusted.10 ‘In view of the way in which ammunition, explosives and equipment has melted away when anywhere near Cyprus Forces, have we any guarantee that what is found will not disappear in the same way?’11
The War Office dismissed Jim’s proposal but not before observing that the project would be excellent ‘if it were not so remarkably naïve’, noting that a rough estimate of the annual cost would come to around £75,000. Jim still clung to the idea even as it sank. As late as October 1945 he wrote to Eve Dray, by then back in Cyprus, suggesting there might be work for her as part of the programme.12
Jim’s mind sped along roads built on flimsy foundations, unable to stand still or take stock. Confined for so long, with only his thoughts and reading for company, Jim had no idea how the landscape had changed. Jack Hamson knew how he felt. Both men were mentally and physically exhausted, indecisive, but Jack was old enough to know it wise to postpone important decisions. The ‘bogey that sits on one’s shoulder and whispers in one’s ear’ afflicted them both and they felt older and sour. Jim was restless. More philosophical, Jack told Jim: ‘we paid our penny and took our choice by going into the army.’13 They felt bitter towards those who had not. Both wanted to rake over the burning embers of Crete and mourned Pendlebury’s death. ‘To have perished in failure four years ago is to be truly dead.’14 They discussed work possibilities in Athens. Would Jim be tempted by the offer of a consulship? Alan Wace urged Jim to consider the job of Assistant Director at the British School at Athens, but Jim seemed reluctant. Would he think it over again if it were offered to him?15 Despite the setbacks, Jim’s colleagues supported and encouraged him. The Craven Fund gave him a grant of £150 to complete work on Vounous but a second grant was unlikely and he needed a job.
Jim’s career prospects were poor and his situation became critical when Eleanor became pregnant. She was unwell for much of the pregnancy and had to be careful, given an earlier miscarriage. Twelve months after his release from prison, on 28 April 1946, their son Peter Hugh was born. Friends and colleagues sent congratulations. Winifred Lamb wrote to ‘welcome’ him,
adding a pencil sketch of a cat: ‘Jim the cat will be a bit surprised when Peter Hugh comes home’.16 From Cyprus Peter and Elektra Megaw sent best wishes, hoping that Eleanor’s worries were now over. ‘She has had a time’, they said.17
At last Jim finally accepted his plans for Cyprus were dead. Where could he turn for support? One answer might be the Swedes.
Jim and Westholm were friends and it was to Alfirios that Jim had written in 1940 in despair at the madness of the world and revealing his plans to volunteer. It was time to renew connections and, although Peter Hugh was only two months old, he left England for a visit to Sweden.
Friends welcomed Jim warmly. He visited Alfirios and met Einar Gjerstad for the first time. They discussed the idea of collaboration and possibilities looked promising. Arne Furumark, the Swedish archaeologist and specialist of Bronze Age art, discussed Jim’s ideas on chronology and advised:
If I were you, I would draw up my own classification and stick to it. After all, Gjerstad and the Cyprus Committee are dependent on you, and you may very well insist on doing things in your own way, so long as it does not clash too much with the general lines of the publication. But don’t repeat my words!18
When he returned to England, Gjerstad wrote to tell Jim that ‘the Swedish Crown Prince is very keen on your collaborations with us, and I shall talk to him about the economic question, when I see him in Jan’.19 ‘England is dreary after Sweden’, Jim complained.20
A further possibility was Australia. Before the war, Jim had met another antipodean at the British School at Athens, Dale Trendall.21 Trendall was four years older than Jim and they had overlapped at Cambridge. Originally from New Zealand, Trendall’s was a formidable intellect and he was well on the way to a brilliant career both as scholar and university administrator. In 1939 Trendall took up the chair of Greek at Sydney University when the incumbent, Englishman Enoch Powell, left to enlist. During the war years Trendall worked with another Greek scholar and a mathematician in the cryptographic unit at Victoria Barracks in Melbourne.22
Trendall now wanted Jim at Sydney University. He was supported in this by Walter Beasley, who had met Jim in Australia in 1935 and was one of the sponsors of the Vounous excavations. Beasley was fifty-seven, a devout Christian, skilful businessman and Managing Director of Young’s Transport Agency. While travelling in the Near East in the 1930s, he had visited excavations at Jericho and become convinced that archaeology would one day prove the truth of Biblical events. In 1946 he established an independent Australian Institute of Archaeology in Melbourne to further this aim.
Since his release from Germany, Jim had written regularly to both Trendall and Beasley and in the middle of 1945 an offer arrived from Sydney. In his reply Jim mentions £2000 budgets and excavation plans.23 Trendall told Beasley that Jim hoped to return to Sydney as Director of the Nicholson Museum and occasional lecturer at Sydney University, but also wanted the opportunity to mount excavations. At the end of the year Trendall made a firm offer, a job at Sydney University as Assistant Director of the Nicholson Museum. The Nicholson was the oldest antiquities museum in Australia, established in 1860 through a bequest by the inaugural Chancellor of Sydney University Sir Charles Nicholson. It was a teaching museum, although no Department of Archaeology existed until 1949.The offered position would be partly funded by Beasley, who would pay for Jim’s travel expenses and cover part of his salary. In exchange, Jim was to provide Beasley’s newly established institute with professional advice during university vacation time.24 Jim dithered, and Beasley worried that his ‘nervousness seems to be increasing with regard to Australian conditions’.25 Whether this nervousness was real or feigned in order to obtain better employment conditions is unclear. Undoubtedly Jim was strongly attached to England and knew that archaeology conducted from Australia would be difficult. At the same time he was not above negotiating on the basis of exaggerated claims of alternative job offers.
Later Jim would say that by choosing to go to Sydney he had given up two better prospects but this is disingenuous. It is true that Anthony Arkell, Commissioner for Archaeology in the Sudan, had sounded him out for a position there, but by June 1946 there was still no guarantee that money for the position even existed, and in any case there were many things against it, in particular the weather and isolation. Khartoum was eight days travel from Cairo26 and Arkell cautioned that life in the Sudan was difficult, especially for a wife and young child, although Eleanor seemed keen on the job.27 Arkell warned Jim about ‘snags’. Was Jim prepared to spend fifteen years in the Sudan, separated from his wife and son for long periods?28
Alan Wace again encouraged Jim to consider the position of Assistant Director at the British School in Athens. He was reluctant. Perhaps Greece held too may unhappy memories. People helped him where they could. On the suggestion of Professor A.W. Lawrence, Chambers Encyclopaedia asked Jim to update their sections on Asia Minor, Cyprus, Troy and Thermi—at the rate of £4 for 1000 words.29 The Medievalist John La Monté asked if he would contribute to a planned history of the Crusades. Later still, Alan Wace recommended Jim to Hetty Goldman, who was excavating at Tarsus, but her offer of employment, his second prospect, arrived too late and he missed the opportunity, although later he claimed to have given it up for Sydney.30
Jim felt conflicted by the idea of leaving England. When he and Eleanor had visited Australia in 1935, they had left with no intention of return. For much of their marriage they had lived a vagabond existence, although always drawn back to Park Cottage in Somerset, a house and location they both loved. For Jim, the longest time he had spent in any one place was as a student at Cambridge or a POW in Germany. In March 1946 he applied to the army for repatriation, but could not decide whether this would be to Cyprus, Khartoum or Australia, and in any case he wanted to defer any possible repatriation so he could complete research in England.31 He was unable to make up his mind.
There may also have been confusion in Jim’s personal life. Winifred Lamb’s replies to his POW letters suggest he sought guidance from her, although what he confided is unclear. Eve’s mother had long been friendly with the Stewarts and Eve used their address as a forwarding address. Her receipt for lecture fees from the University of London in January and February 1946 was sent there. On one visit Jim took Eve flint hunting, and on another she arrived with a present for Peter.32
Although torn about his future, Jim still found time for numismatics. Coins were his great love and fellow numismatists remained his closest friends. The paper he read to the Numismatic Society in London compares the Lusignan period on Cyprus with the modern world and reflects his sense of gloom.
The achievement of the Lusignan Kings was that they placed themselves aside from religious strife, leaving the odium for its actions to rest on the Latin church … To a Cypriot like Saint Neophytos there was no difference in criminality between Richard [Lionheart] and Saladin—750 years later we can, perhaps, agree with him …33
Though unemployed, Jim was not without financial resources. While he complained to Westholm that he might have to give up archaeology for lack of money, even on demobilisation he continued to buy coins. From the moment he heard rumours from Cyprus of a hoard of coins found at a village near Paphos, a huge collection of Medieval coins from the Lusignan period, he knew he must have the whole lot.34
At the end of 1946 Eve Dray had returned to Cyprus and became Jim’s ‘agent’ there. He sent her to the antiquities dealer Petro Colocassides to track down coins.
Make yourself pleasant. He knows about you. Tell him about my coins and all the books and tell him you have been helping with the Vounous book … I must have every coin from the Paphos hoard before I can write an account of it … [Colocassides] has a lot himself, and I want to get them … P.S. The ‘Mission Colocasides [sic]’ really is important. Paphos is a Mediaevalist’s dream.35
Obviously Eve had the right touch because a month later Jim congratulated her: ‘You’ve clicked! Colocassides says “She is very good and very polite and a
ffable and I like to trust and work with her”. Take immediate promotion in the ambassadorial ranks.’36
Later, Jim stressed that ‘action over Paphos—the coins from Stavrokeno find—is now urgent. Some have leaked onto the continent, and we must round up the remainder pronto. I leave you to work out plans and action with Petro Colocassides, who is a crook’.37 Typically Jim felt unable to write an account of the Paphos hoard until he possessed it all. The same reluctance would characterise his approach to the Early Bronze Age.
Petro gave Eve fifty-one coins for Jim and in reply Jim sent Eve more detailed instructions.38 Eleanor added a post script. ‘I guess your head must be reeling with details of coins as well as pots! However I hope you are enjoying the new game of coin tracking. Peter has just started to wear the blue jersey you gave him. He is getting on fine now, very different from the odd little shrimp you saw.’
Jim and Eleanor opted for Australia. Once this was agreed, Jim immediately revived his plans for survey work on Cyprus. What he had failed to achieve through the Colonial Office, the War Office and the Cyprus Department of Antiquities, he now planned to do under the auspices of the University of Sydney. He doggedly persisted, simply transferring responsibility and financing from one organisation to another and rebranding the project the ‘Australian Cyprus Expedition’.