Cherry (45 page)

The shops filled up with newer and better things as the decade wore on, and to Cherry’s delight ice-cream trolleys reappeared in Regent’s Park. But the growing affluence of the fifties was shadowed by poor industrial relations, and one of Sir Anthony Eden’s first acts as prime minister when Churchill at last retired was to declare a state of emergency after 60,000 dockers came out on strike. The country was becoming a bewildering place for a man imbued in his youth with the spirit of the Victorian age. ‘He was still trying to live up to his father’s ideals,’ Angela remembered. Day after day
The Times
reported the dying spasms of imperialism alongside startling accounts of a young American singer called Elvis Presley, and the West End streets that radiated south from Gloucester Place began to look increasingly unfamiliar, peopled with Teddy boys, angry young men and women wearing tight jeans. Cherry had little contact with these baffling changes. Several months after the cruise, he once again broke down.

Back came the heavy numbness and the sense that his body was filled with cold liquid lead. But just when the prognosis was at its most gloomy, his sinus specialist recommended a new doctor called Gordon Mathias. He was a Welshman with an Antarctic link, having trained at the London Hospital under the auspices of a sponsorship programme set up by Wilson’s sisters, and he had known both Ory and Isabel Smith. The connection created an immediate bond between doctor and patient, and it enabled Cherry to open up. Mathias specialised in psychiatry, and besides offering therapeutic sessions in which he encouraged Cherry to talk, he suggested a course of electroplexy, now known as electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) in the UK and electro-shock therapy (EST) in the United States, of which he was a pioneering practitioner.

Cherry had already taken barbiturates to little or no effect, and by this stage, lost in his private darkness, he was willing to try anything. ECT had been practised in Europe since the late thirties. It has had a controversial history and continues to stimulate fear, but correctly deployed, it has relieved many thousands of depressive mood disorders. Cherry’s sessions duly took place at Dorset House, closely monitored by Mathias and an anaesthetist. Cherry was put under for the duration of a therapeutic seizure that was caused by the application of electrodes on either side of his head. The effect was immediate. Cherry felt better after the first treatment and continued to improve as the course progressed until he was completely well.

Once again, Angela had her husband back. Years later, she reflected simply, ‘There were two Cherrys, you see.’ This was true throughout Cherry’s life, and he acknowledged it in his 1951 postscript. ‘Know yourself,’ he wrote. ‘Accept yourself: be yourself. That seems a good rule. But which self ? Even the simplest of us are complicated enough.’ As he turned into an old man he found it increasingly difficult to engage in the present. Like Robert Graves’ cabbage-white butterfly, he had never quite mastered the art of flying straight, but lurched ‘here and here by guess/And God and hope and hopelessness’. Externally, his life had been haphazard (whose isn’t?). Internally, he had fought his private wars and come out just about all right, true to an ideal or two, and still believing in ‘the response of the spirit’, despite everything.

In the spring of 1958 the Gothic chapel hidden among the beech trees at Denford was demolished. Five years previously the vicar of Hungerford, by default responsible, had tracked Cherry down through the pages of
Who’s Who
and asked what he wanted to do about the building: his grandfather, grandmother, uncle and aunt were after all buried beneath it. But the contact fizzled out, and after a small local controversy in which the Georgian Group attempted to save the pinnacled chapel (Betjeman described it as ‘charming and lacelike’), it was pulled down and the bodies forgotten.
⁶⁶
It was a lugubrious finale for the Cherrys of Denford.

Their representative on earth had turned seventy more or less in sound mental health, but he was becoming frail, and was now permanently obsessed with noise. He insisted on moving into the Berkeley for months at a time, taking one of the quieter rooms overlooking the well at the back. Angela would return to Dorset House to wash their smalls and cook Cherry’s favourite food, which she ferried back to the hotel in covered basins. It was an unnatural life, but she had to go along with it, as she had gone along with so much. He did not think of her needs. It was a personal failure.

There were pleasurable outings. A car and driver would be summoned to the hotel to take them over to Kew Gardens or up to Ken Wood on Hampstead Heath, where the neo-classical villa had a handsome Adam south front that was reminiscent of Lamer (Repton’s hand was visible there, too). On a good day they took a boat down the Thames and had a picnic, or walked along the towpath at Putney. But these were secluded years.

The world spun away from Cherry. In October 1957 the Soviets launched Sputnik 1, and a month later they shot a dog into orbit. Cherry had always felt that space was the next frontier, after the Antarctic. ‘We shall visit the moon now before very long,’ he had once written. ‘Perhaps within the next thousand years.’ In 1959 the unmanned Lunik 2 crash-landed on the moon, and only ten years after that Neil Armstrong wobbled about on its craterous surface. Cherry was out of step with the times, as usual, but
The Worst Journey
continued to win all hearts, and requests for translation rights still arrived from distant corners of the world, thirty-seven years after first publication. It was a source of deep satisfaction to him. The Antarctic had both redeemed and destroyed his life. Redeemed, because it produced
The Worst Journey
, a superlative piece of art that vaults above the human experience which gave it form. Destroyed, because it fatally engaged his anxieties. His life was proof that emotion has its own chronology.

In the middle of May 1959 they had a peaceful, happy day at Ken Wood. The daffodils were blazing on the landscaped slopes in front of the house and the first summer sunshine glanced off the ponds puddled next to the trees. Two days later Cherry slipped over in the Berkeley and broke his arm. An X-ray machine was brought to the hotel, and Mathias, wanting a second opinion, called in the specialist Sir Horace Evans. But on 18 May Cherry died of congestive heart failure and bronchopneumonia. He was seventy-three. ‘Men do not fear death,’ he once wrote. ‘They fear the pain of dying.’ There had been no pain at the end, and nothing to fear.

He was buried in St Helen’s churchyard, with his secrets.

Guide to Notes

All books published in London, unless otherwise indicated.

Correspondence, diaries and unpublished material are held at the Scott Polar Research Institute, unless otherwise indicated.

Notes

Introduction

God in his Heaven
Siegfried Sassoon,
The Old Century
, 1938, p. 153.

was losing its ancient
Postscript to
WJ
, 1951, p. 599.

To me, and perhaps . . . It is a story
ibid.
, pp. 602–3.

Chapter 1: Ancestral Voices

All Scott’s orders had
Annotated journal. The comment appears alongside entries for December 1911 & April 1912. In all subsequent notes, the location of the comment is indicated in square brackets. Researchers should note that this material, stored at SPRI, is restricted access.

Those first days of
WJ
, p. 110.

Can we ever forget
Draft material,
WJ
.

In this sort of
Postscript, p. 589.

If you knew him
WJ
, p. 207.

My relief was so
Annotated journal [May 1912].

it was [is] a grave
Journal, 12 November 1912.

If we had travelled . . . But we never dreamed
ibid.
, ‘Written on the Barrier after finding the remains of the Southern Party’, n.d.

I am almost afraid
ibid.
, 12 November 1912.

We did not forget
WJ
, p. 302.

If you march your
ibid.
, p. 598.

The sepoys have kicked
AC to Charlotte Cherry, 18 July 1857, family collection. I am grateful to John Gott for making this material available to me.

Send this please to
AC to Charlotte Cherry, 7 January 1858, family collection.

I don’t think you
AC to Charlotte Cherry, 5 February 1858, family collection.

I can fancy you
AC to Charlotte Cherry, 16 July 1858, family collection.

Mind you give me . . . It seems to be
AC to George Cherry, n.d., family collection.

during an interval in
AC to Charlotte Cherry, 7 January 1858, family collection.

I thank you exceedingly
AC to George Cherry, n.d., family collection.

All the morning I
AC to George Cherry, 1 May 1878, family collection.

If you have to
AC to Alfred Welby, 29 March 1879, family collection.

What a fearful mistake
AC to George Cherry, 9 February 1879, family collection.

Between you and me
AC to Alfred Welby, Easter Sunday 1879, family collection.

Bedford For an account of the period, see C. D. Linnell, ‘Late Victorian Bedford’,
Bedfordshire Magazine
VII (1959–60).

dresses of braided cream
Newbury Weekly News
, 12 February 1885.

In nearly all serious
Bedfordshire Mercury
, 24 April 1908.

one of those men
Harriet Loyd-Lindsay, Lady Wantage,
Lord Wantage VC KCB: A Memoir by his Wife
, 1908, p. 164.

LADDIES BEST LOVE BABYS
and all other childhood notes
Family collection.

I belong to the
E. M. Forster,
Two Cheers for Democracy
, 1951, p. 67.

Chapter 2: Lamer

the balcony opening out
Carola Oman,
Ayot Rectory
, 1965, p. 157.

Dearest Mother, The hounds
and all other childhood letters
Family collection.

We knew him best
Wheathampstead Church Magazine XXIV (December 1907).

The young master did
Mary Amy Coburn,
George and Henry
, Wheathampstead, 1992, p. 47.

Lo, all our pomp
Rudyard Kipling, ‘Recessional’, 1897.

For five years at
Arnold Toynbee,
Experiences
, Oxford, 1969, p. 6.

Except in the Army . . . we were hardly aware
ibid.
, p. 11.

Under the system then
D. N. Pritt,
From Right to Left
, 1965, p. 254.

In other colleges the S. P. B. Mais, All the Days of My Life, 1937, p. 29.

It may be of
John Jolliffe,
Raymond Asquith: Life and Letters
, 1980, p. 29.

Show me a researcher
Ronald Clark,
Tizard
, 1965, p. 12.

content to live like
ibid.

Nothing anywhere seemed as
Compton Mackenzie,
Sinister Street
, 1913, p. 542.

many who had been
Stephen McKenna,
While I Remember
, 1921, p. 61.

a dark, lean, rather . . . Otherwise he was remarkable
Evening Standard
, 6 December 1922.

it was practically impossible
Kenneth Clark,
Another Part of the Wood
, 1974, p. 121.

a life of familiarity
Raymond Asquith to Margot Asquith, [n.d.] October 1897, in Jolliffe, p. 33.

How dense the barbaric
Leonard Woolf,
Sowing
, 1960, p. 82.

In my time at
Mais, p. 32.

How long, O Lord New Statesman, 8 July 1922.

Father said he would
ACG to AF, 29 October 1906, Hertford.

Sir Lander has just
ACG to AF, 1 November 1906, Hertford.

showed promise
Oxford University Boat Club records.

being very short in
ibid.

I was very sorry
ACG to Henry Hobbs, 10 May 1907, private collection.

I am very very
ACG to Henry Hobbs, 17 May 1907, private collection.

The seeds of his
Herts Advertiser
, 15 November 1907.

In ever loving memory
Coburn, p. 49.

as if it cannot
ibid.

I had thought of
ibid.
, p. 50.

As a proof of
St Albans Times
, 10 November 1907.

Chapter 3: Untrodden Fields

new and untrodden fields
Winston Churchill, speech in Dundee, 10 October 1908; published in
The Times
.

It was not a
Michael Holroyd,
Lytton Strachey
I:
The Unknown Years
, 1967, pp. 33–4.

that fool of a
Virginia Stephen to Violet Dickinson, [n.d.] January 1905, in
The Letters of Virginia Woolf: The Flight of the Mind
, eds. Nigel Nicolson & Joanne Trautmann, 1975, p. 171.

From now onward till
EW to RS, 18 April 1910.

I have seen him
John Fraser, in George Seaver,
Edward Wilson of the Antarctic
, 1933, p. 20.

and something must be
Seaver,
Wilson
, p. 170. Many of Seaver’s primary sources were later destroyed by Wilson’s widow. Seaver uses no notes, and should be treated with caution, as he was fond of conflating sources. Where Seaver is quoted as the source of correspondence, the letter is presumed destroyed.

to let nothing stand
Address by George Seaver at the opening of Edward Wilson Memorial House, London, 5 July 1952. Transcript in private collection.

Without a love for
Seaver,
Wilson
, p. 124.

My dear Billy . . . it
ES to EW, 12 February 1907, in
ibid.
, p. 174.

Of all the continents
Richard Byrd,
Antarctic Discovery
, 1936, p. 1.

the exploration of the
Royal Geographical Society,
Report of 6th International Geographical Congress
, 1896.

Beauty is still sleeping
Roald Amundsen,
The South Pole
, 1912, p. 194.

The stark polar lands
ES,
The Heart of the Antarctic
I, 1909, p. 1.

The combined armies of
Frederick A. Cook,
Through the First Antarctic Night
, 1900, p. 468.

This is how it
Doris Lessing, Afterword to
The Making of the Representative for Planet
8, 1982, p. 130.

When I first knew
Introduction to Seaver,
Wilson
, p. xx.

I shall be only
ECG to ACG, 11 December 1910, family collection.

the greyhound of the
The Times
, 11 January 1887.

the Bishop is a
Harry Woollcombe, CEMS
Men’s Magazine
( January 1910), Lambeth Palace Library.

a very cultivated, capable
AF to Roland Farrer, 4 January 1910, BRO.

My dear Cherry-Garrard
EW to ACG, 8 December 1909.

I am biased in
EW to ACG, 18 April 1910.

Dr Wilson is up
RS to ACG, 3 February 1910.

Welcome home delighted see
EW to ACG, 7 April 1910.

I have seen Wilson
RS to ACG, 18 April 1910.

Putting it quite baldly
ibid
.

I am more sorry
EW to ACG, 20 April 1910.

Captain Scott wants to
EW to ACG, 25 April 1910.

as vague blobs walking . . . At that time I
WJ
, p. 239.

Chapter 4: Winning All Hearts

The
Discovery
was a
Seaver,
Wilson
, p. 198.

I shall never forget
E. R. G. R. Evans,
South with Scott
, 1921, p. 6.

The verb ‘to wangle’
ibid.
, p. 7.

Every prospect of a
Journal, 21 June 1910.

an ever-ready laugh
Charles Wright,
Silas: The Antarctic Diaries and
Memoir of Charles S. Wright, eds. Colin Bull & Pat F. Wright, Columbus, 1993, p. 28.

excellent food – I had
Journal, 23 June 1910.

This is always to
ibid.

I really never have
EW to RS, 26 June 1910.

And so with a
Fridjtof Nansen to Roald Amundsen, 2 April 1913, Oslo, trans. Roland Huntford.

The pump is going
Journal, 23 June 1910.

I think I shall
ibid.
, 27 June 1910.

as happy as the
WJ
, p. 4.

He was father and
Draft material,
WJ
.

by far the most
EW,
Diary of the ‘Terra Nova’ Expedition to the Antarctic 1910–1912
, ed. H. G. R. King, 1972, 26 January 1911.

He is only eighteen
HB to May Bowers, 22 August 1910.

Enjoying myself greatly
Journal, 17 July 1910.

I have been more
ibid.
, 23 July 1910.

the lack of something
Silas
, p. 9.

robust, willing and uncompromising
Draft material,
WJ
.

good-hearted, strong, keen
SLE
, 5 May 1911.

though there was hardly
WJ
, p. 10.

Campbell, Cherry-Garrard and
EW,
Diary
, 11 August 1910.

When we first got
WJ
, p. 15.

One of the days
Journal, 26 July 1910.

Wilson took Cherry-Garrard
Evans,
South with Scott
, p. 15.

We are [a] peaceloving party
HB to Emily Bowers, 23 August 1910.

we usually hunt in
HB to May Bowers, 25 September 1910.

Cherry-Garrard is a
ibid.

our young millionaire . . . a
HB to Emily Bowers, 22 June 1910.

There wasn’t a twist
George Seaver,
Birdie Bowers of the Antarctic
, 1938, p. 72.

I love my country
HB to May Bowers, 17 July 1907.

Ever since I went
HB to Emily Bowers, 6 September 1907.

If only they will
HB to Emily Bowers, 30 April 1909.

Well, we’re landed with
Elspeth Huxley,
Scott of the Antarctic
, 1977, p. 189.

the wives are much
Journal, 16 August 1910.

I glowed rather foolishly
Lady Kennet [KS],
Self-Portrait of an Artist
, 1949, p. 76.

Darling, I will be
Louisa Young,
A Great Task of Happiness
, 1995, p. 93.

little rippers and ladies
HB to May Bowers, 28 August 1910.

with staid and proper
et seq.
HB to May Bowers, 1 September 1910.

I did a lot
Journal, 4 September 1910.

It will be terrible
HB to May Bowers, 22 August 1910.

It is delightful to
EW to RS, 10 September 1910.

one of the landsmen
Thomas Griffith Taylor,
With Scott: the Silver Lining
, 1916, p. 13.

as strong as a
EW to RS, 10 September 1910.

takes no part in . . . has a taste for
Silas
, p. 27.

Evans is leader in
FD,
The Quiet Land: The Antarctic Diaries of Frank Debenham
, ed. June Debenham Back, Huntingdon, 1992, p. 24.

To all his comrades
Raymond Priestley, ‘Robert Falcon Scott’, unpublished essay, 1960, p. 13.

I hope it will
EW,
Diary
, 12 October 1910.

Cherry-Garrard had a W. H. Fitchett to RS, 17 October 1910.

Mrs Wilson told me
ibid.

Beg
leave
to
inform
Original telegram lost.

I shall be at
WJ
, p. 41.

We are all a
Journal, 24 October 1910.

Among the executive officers
WJ
, p. 43.

I was very frightened
ibid.
, p. 4.

Campbell as the President
EW,
Diary
, 11 July 1910.

Cherry-Garrard has won . . . You will be equally
RFS to RS, 18 November 1910, in
WJ
, p. lxi (original lost).

minding his cakes at
RS to AF, 29 December 1910, BRO.

We are all working
ECG to ACG, 20 November 1910, family collection.

I feel you have
ECG to ACG, 11 December 1910, family collection.

I am so very
ibid.

in the night when
ECG to ACG, 27 November 1910, family collection.

and hoped it would
ECG to ACG, 25 December 1910, family collection.