Cockley Moor

Helen Sutherland at Cockley Moor

1939 - 1965

by Val Corbett w Helen Sutherland at Cockley Moor

I ^ verything was a rhythm and a rite and a ,1. J ceremony from the moment of rising in the early morning. Everything was an event; a sacred event. Everything was a tradition, a lesson, everything was bequeathed, everything was a most saintly habit. Everything was an inner elevation and a prayer. All day long, sleep and wake, work and short rest, bed and board, soup and beef, house and garden, door and street, courtyard and threshold, and the plates on the table.

Charles Pfcguy. Basic Verities.

The inscription in the hall at Cockley Moor. c o

E33I

HSden

ae U7a11• SJrts

Train Scrvtcn provided by Wctt Com

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• /;c idea qj an exhibition and a publication about Helen a _A_ Sutherland and her collection has been 'waiting in the wings'for B many years. It was Northern Arts successful bid to host Visual Arts Year •5" UK in the Northern Arts Region that provided the cue - and enabled the I 2 funds to be forthcoming. This publication and the exhibition held in Penrith Museum in the Summer of 1996 are the result and together they give a fascinating insight into Helen Sutherland, her way oflife, and her collection. It is clear beyond doubt that this relatively unknown figure played a highly significant role in the story ofEnglish Art of the mid-twentieth century. The best actors and actresses speak of how they try to 'get inside' the character they are to play. In this essay Val Corbett has achieved that same quality of 'insideness', presenting a rounded and vital portrait of Ilelcn Sutherland, whilst at the same time giving the reader new insights into her life and character. Eschewing the temptation to chop her subject into bits,

she has instead drawn the various elements in her rich life together to present the whole person, through close reading of her voluminous correspon dence. The art of letter writing has been dealt a severe blow by more modern methods of communication, and yet it has many merits, especially because much 'soul-baring' can take place on the pave, at a distance. It is significant that Helen Sutherland. ' ,s ' ' g* the principal players in this drama - Helen's family', as Val calls them - o § were all singular, and often single too, in their yearning for Kathleen u U Raine's 'numinous' world, that glimpse ofthe mysteries of 'the other' which •g they all tried so hard, and often so successfully, to express in their work. To do this they needed space, spacefrom each other, space to think and space to 2 create. Winifred Nicholson saw the essence of that mysterious life force in colour and flowers, viewed from her fastness on the Roman Wall; Ben Nicholson through form and clean geometry; DavidJones through language and history; and Kathleen Raine through poetry and her deep study of William Blake. Helen Sutherland recognised them all as kindred spirits, and wanted to share her space with them - hut very much on her terms. I think it is significant that she chose such a high, remote part of Cumberland to spend the last twentyfive years ofher life, in the shadow of Helvellyn, aptly described as one of the 'roots of heaven'. Not content merely to 'Lift up her eyes unto the hills' she moved there lock stock and barrel - with paintings, books, music and vintage claret. High places, high standards, high living in both the material and the more spiritual, esoteric sense ofseeking the heights oftruth, ofmeaning, ofbeauty and oflove. This is the story of that episode in her life.

Nick Jones for Eden Arts. 5 • /I /hen Helen Sutherland came to remote Cockley Moor, high C/5 V v above Ullswater in the Lake District, she was nearing her sixties, probably an age when most of us would be considering a move to some convenient spot suitable for our later years. It is some indication of her n indomitable character that this does not appear to have entered into her decision-making. Rock Hall near Alnwick in Northumberland, where she had lived throughout the Thirties, was of a formidable size with fourteen bedrooms, five sitting rooms, a library and a picture gallery, plus capacious staff quartersfor the many senmnts. Tlie upkeep of the garden alone required fwe gardeners. Her lease of Rock, from her friends the Bosanquets, was coming to an end, and some move became inevitable. During the thirties her finances became increasingly stretched, and although by most standards she was still a rich woman, some degree of retrenchment was inevitable. The relatively modest size of Cockley Moor fulfilled her need to run a smaller

household.

Cockley Moor. c She wrote in a letter dated March 31st 1939 to Jim Ede, one of her closest o friends:

U n It is a strange moment for a crisis for me -I have just decided on a house and offered to buy it c and negotiations are now going on - It is in Cumberland •I am sorry to leave Northumberland o - andall those lines ofcommunication I knowandlove here, (but this ofcourse has the charm gC of being afresh adventure and it seems as ifpartof me welcomes that now, tlw' I tried to avoid t it).... I did not atall wish to go into the Lake Country which I think is almost melodramatic J§ yet that is where Iseem to be going - but a little off the beaten tourist track • the house is a ja" kind offarmhouse and practically all the rooms face south - with a marvellous view - I'm high * up, over 1300feet! a little stream runs through my meadoiv dowti to a lovely Aira Beck - they tellme rare and beautiful orchids growin quantities and curlews sing above the house .... the Church is about Vf* miles away, the village -V-* ofa mile distant. My onlybother perhaps is that everything and everyone else is dowtdiill! It was the only house I sawwhich really spoke to me in my own language -1 think it could beasnearly what I want as anything else in this world can be - ofcourse there are several things I wish different - but the essential things seem right. It is within a little community ofcountry people and I think it could be a lovely home for visitors and holidays. It needs a little doing to it - I shall have about 80 acres ofland I think - a small garden - it is very unpretentious and plain - but if Cod grants us peace Ifeel a life could be builtup there Well I do not quite know what makes our decisions ofthis kind so important to ourselves - it is made up ofthe good and alas the evil and weakness in us - It will be beautiful having a piece ofground which is myowti -I ought to have had that really long ago but I seemed to get so rooted until Ifound the expenses growing sofar beyond me.

It was, in so many ways an unfortunate time for such a major move. The outbreak of war was scattering many of her friendships, probably at a time when she was most in need of their supportive web. Near her Northumberland home were the Bosanquets and Hodgkins, both familiar to her since her marriage in her early twenties. She had a strong friend in 'her' Vicar as well as in her neighbour, Lord Grey of Falloden, whose estate bounded Rock. Her close friends the Edes had left for Tangier, and another long-term friend, Vera Moore, was stranded in France. In addition there were the uncertainties generated by the onset of war. It is not hard to imagine the veryreal anxieties and sense of loss she musthave felt. One of the few people she knew in Cumberland was Winifred Nicholson, who had been a friend since her early days at Banks Head in the late Twenties. But Banks Head, near *

a a. a 0

The drawing room.

Lanercost on the line ofHadrian's Wall, was still a fair step from Matterdale. However, it seems typical of her great strength of character that she did not appear to dwell on these concerns, but rather tried to see a positive side to these inevitable changes. Beatrice, her elderly melancholy maid, moved with her, along with a chauffeur-gardener, but this reduction in staff was drastic, and her inability to quickly find more must have accentuated her changed circumstances. Her description of her time at Rock being her golden years must surely have never felt more justified. r Helen Sutherland commissioned extensive improvements to Cockley Moor. In principle, these were to be completed in time for her u move, which was scheduled for the late autumn of 1939. Leslie Martin, an up- and-coming young architect much associated with the Constructive Art movement of the Thirties, was commissioned to design a bold new drawing room, sometimes known as the Music Room. This was to run along the south rJ front of the house, with a suite of rooms for her personal use above. The former farmhouse had already been converted into a 'gentleman's residence' by Lady Lawson, its previous owner, but Helen Sutherland was after somethingmore ambitious. Leslie Martin had already designed a new vicarage for Rock to a joint commission from her and the Church. Later Sir Leslie Martin, he shared in the design of the Royal Festival Hall and had overall responsibility for the South Bank Centre, the definitive example ot British Brutalist architecture of the 1960s and 1970s. The extension in 1970 for Kettle's Yard in Cambridge that he did for Jim Ede bears similarities to the room at Cockley Moor. With hindsight, the work at Cockley Moor may seem to sit uncomfortably on the face of a traditional building, and the likely modern approach would be to try to integrate a modern extension into the vernacular architecture. At the time, informed opinion regarded it as a great success. Thirty years later, Pevsner approvingly described it as an uncommonly sensitive blend ot modern and old. There was an opinion in the 1930s, as expressed in the book Circle, favouring the integration ofart, decor and archi tecture, but this publication was mainly influential within the modern movement and most people were unreceptive to modern art and architecture. Helen Sutherland's new drawing room and her collection of abstract paintings and sculptures by others involved in the modern movement - Ben Nicholson, Henry Moore and Barbara 1lepworth. Gabo and Mondrian - were seen as a harmonious contemporary expression.

Abstract with red circle, 1957. Woodcut, Ben Nicholson. Ona more practical level, improvements were also being made to the maids' §* quarters at Cockley Moor and many more bathrooms were added. Margaret to Atkinson, now a retired teacher, who lived in the valley at that time, recalls jf the local fascination with the sheer number of bathrooms, but the news that §" gave rise to the greatest gossip was that a new-fangled bidet was also being ^* installed. In the nature of things, the more parochial the news the faster it f) travels around the rural grapevine even at a time like this with war about to &• break out. "3 However, at the outset the move did notgo well. In a letter toJim Ede §» on November 2nd: ""*

I've been struggling into my own house here. I am not in yet. I'm in thecottage - Ann'scottage - close by with the Fairburns but I'vegot a desk cleared with furniture piled up round me- and here I can sit and write and do business. I started moving in but when I arrived Ifound such pandemonium stillof builders, plasterers - holes in the socalled house -1 had to wire and cancel the rest of my move in midstream - We've been harried on by our movers - who foresaw difficulties - so that wepacked in afever.. But tho' my coming here is a much more desperate business than my very beautiful and sheltered entry into Rock and this place wilder - it has great beauty - the hills are like Les baricades misterieuses • (do you remember that Couperin Vera used toplay long ago so much?) and the trees in the valley ofthe Aira Beck full ofindividual beauty now gold and taurny and ruddy and some still green - grey walls dancing up hillsides and making patterns offields in the valleys. I went to early service yesterday for All Saints and today for All Souls - lovely feasts - it isa heavenly - mostly footpath - way to the lovely little tiny church. Yesterday there was a black and bitter wind and the colour ofthe whole night and day black and pitiless - I dreaded getting up again this morning. And then it broke such a beautiful morning and I went with the moon above me and rosy silvery clouds about the sunrise and the mysterious hills and the green and peaceful valleys shaped by the human hand and shaping the human heart. I woke at 6.30and made my fire, for the first time in my life I am embarrassed to say! Isacrificed a whole Times (alas) and made three attempts - and then Mrs Fairburn heard and rescued me! - what a tricky but exciting business - Iwill master the art soon. My music room is going to be beautiful I think - the house iffull oflight and sun and ofthe great view. Though no doubt there would have been much speculation in the Matterdale valley about the new owner of Cockley Moor, there can have been few people who would not have been surprised by her physical appearance. Edward Hodgkin describes how:

Helen was small, not much overJive feet high, and not beautiful, her nose being too sharp and her mouth too small. She gave afirst impression ofnervousness, her speech and gestures having a tentative quality, deriving more from her natural shyness and afear that she might not have expressed herself with absolute clarity than from < indecision. Her voice was as small as her person, but clear and musical, and she had a delicious laugh which threw her whole headforward and could bring tears to her eyes.

Another triend describes how "there was always humour lurking in her eyes and round her mouth". Her delicate, bird-like appearance, which belied an inner 'will of iron', was commented on by many people who knew her. Ben Nicholson, in his appreciation, wrote:

Apparently hesitant and very gentle, this was most misleading and I've known few people who were more certain of themselves.

Helen Sutherland. Her clothes werefrequently the subject of admiration, but like her personality, the understated quality could be misleading. One of Helen Sutherland's greatest friends, Nicolete Gray, retains a collection of her clothes, which are C/3 extraordinary in their exquisitencss. Although unremarkable at first glance. their quality and subtlety soon becomes apparent. There is a range ofchiffon 2 a. blouses, tied with a bow under the chin and made from the most delicate range ot muted colours: greys, pinks, beiges and browns. Over the blouses she might have worn a suit of black silk or satin, and a soft tweed cloak for I outdoors. Nothing shouts, but nothing 3 is ordinary. Ben Nicholson described her clothes as havinga poetic quality and wrote of "an exquisite grey ... with the kind of depth one finds usually only in a painting". As in so many areas, she was a perfectionist, and the clothes were ordered, hand-stitched from a London couture house. Frequently the same garment was ordered in a range ofsubtle colours. It would seem that she did not shop around, being content, as with so many other things, with her own judgement as to what was best. While at Cockley Moor, where the heating could never be described as generous, she would wear a type of housecoat at mealtimes, probably to keep warm. She had a large collection of shoes, a dainty size 3, and pairs of fur lined bootees for outside. Caring for the clothes required fastidious attention, and the pleats would regularly be tacked and untacked in garments before they were sent to the south to be cleaned - another example where only 'the best' was acceptable. Her outdoor wear usually included a rather curious hat - she had many made to the same basic design - squarish, with a brim and wrap-around ear flaps. c o he first winter at Cockley Moor was severe. At the end of £ February 1940, Helen Sutherland was writing to Jim Ede: V T o

/ fear I rather ivish I had not come to such a high-pitched icy world such as this! Even with this expensive central heating the rooms are mostly below 60 degrees orjust over when it is warmer and whether anything much can be done I don't know and doubt it - I never dreamt of the house not being warm and indeed it was beautifully warm until this very cold and sunless weather came. I don Vsuppose I could ever sell it and I've spent my last available halfpenny on it - I hadn 't realised what the height meant - I < mind especially that it means such difficult gardening. Many difficulties might have been overcome, if it were not for this war which adds such an element oj unknown fearful possibilities to everything -I do often wish myself back in theshelter of Rock though the expenses there had outgrown me and were almost impossible. You did not want me to stay asjar away as this - indeed I have a sense that agood many people tried to warn me offit - but none of them found the reasons I seem to find myself now I am here:

Snowbound. ?

00 R I s a.

a —*

The drawing room.

/ that I am really too old to come to such a strenuous place where: 2 servants will be very difficult to get 3 where there is always the hill to negotiate 4 which does necessarily get snowbound in winter - which is again a more difficult condition for elderly people 5 that the winds are pretty terrific - and we are unsheltered 6 that the house cannot really be made warm in winter and oldage 7 that the garden at this height cannot really be very productive This may be a very exceptional winter: I simply don't know - Privately I think the whole English climate is always exceptional in some way or another - People say the garden here was productive but I want it luxurious! Well I may get used to all these difficulties in time - or I may not. The negative tone of this letter is uncharacteristic. A secondletter in February c o shows little improvement:

U / am pretty stark lonely here - though I think I feel it more as afact than asa

e pain -I seem also constantly busy. I have less staffhere - much less ... and I have been doing housework andfinding dusting thefloors on my hands and knees extremely exhausting! Does one get used to it? please ask Helen [Jim's wife] - // is all to the good learning to do these things - which may become more and more a necessity -for those of us who have no other talents especially. Ifsome of us could live together and make a little community then these things would not seem so hard but worthwhile - I now try togo to bed ingood-ish time say 11 or 11.30 my light's out - then I wake early about 5.45 and make my cup of tea and have a beautiful reading time - until Iget upfor 8 o'clock breakfast.

Some of the practical problems were resolved in the early spring with the arrival oftwo sisters, Grace and Rhoda (the cook), who became a valued part ofthe household, remaining in her service for the rest oftheir working lives. She wrote:

My two new servants arrived last night - they are the good old-fashioned kind - I must say it is agreat treat seeing thehouse looking so respectable again. ... I have now got the most peaceful though elderly household. Onesister it is true is extremely deaf- but sogood and the cook is really a delightful Cumbrian woman - intelligent, humorous and an admirable cook. Her returning optimism surfaces in alater letter typically full ofplans and love for her natural surroundings:

On / havefelt rapture here - at last it visited me after this long tunnel of winter f~ ... Vie sun has been radiant and at sunset the utter clarity of the sky |" remained and the greenish-gold light lingered in the west and the planets in J their great company came out - and this weather has lasted three days - 66 O degrees in the sun at mid-day! -frosts at night - heavenly sunrises and % sunsets - the moon at her last quarter triumphant in the south just as the ^ day dawns and the stars over the hills 'taking up their stations' as Dorothy f* Wordsworth says. Tliese things are wonderful here - then I've discovered ~* my own particular brief retreat - down by the heavenly river in my own grounds .... I have apassionate longing to make agarden - unless some devastation ofwar prevents me -I shall make agreat attempt this year. Farmers are renting my land and I am very concerned to see that we improve the land and repay more than we lake out. I mind very much not having a real gardener here but I hope tohave one this summer. ... Tliere is the uncertainty about what we can grow happily as high as this. I think I havefound a sheltered bit ofground here where I hope to make a sort of spring garden - that is the season of my heart • this bit ofground is close to the beautiful Aira Beck which is now sofull and strong-flowing with melted snow - marvellous mystery colours these hillrivers are, and so quick.

The move to Cockley Moor was the second time Helen Sutherland had uprooted herself in such a manner. Edward Hodgkin describes her move to Rock, in 1929, as her Hijira. He writes in his memoir:

It must have been an act of considerable courage for this single woman, getting onforfifty years old, whose only real roots were in London orthe Home Counties, to take on the responsibility of a large house onlyabout twenty milesfrom the Scottish border she was going to be a surrogate squire, afigure in the county, facing new obligations which wealth and position brought with them. G She was bom in 1881, the eldest daughter of Thomas Sutherland, a B remarkable self-made Scot. This formidable Aberdonian showed an u intensely determined streak, starting his career in the P&O Company as a junior clerk, and ending up as its Chairman for thirty-tour years. The story runs that he turned round P&O from imminent collapse, recognising the vital strategic significance of Sue?., and forging strong trading links with China. He was to become a director of the Suez Canal Company and founder of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank. He also became aLiberal MP for Greenock from 1884. Helen Sutherland described how "his character seems to show me >• 5 that stature, freedom and romance of the imagination combined with an intensely realistic and practical will which was characteristic ofthe Victorians" - attributes which could equally well have described her. However inspiring as a hither, Thomas Sutherland was also remote. I le married late and. true to the popular image of the aloof Victorian father, distanced himself to a large- extent from his family. The birth of Helen, when he was forty-seven, was followed by two sons, both of whom were killed in wars, the elder during the Boer _____ War and the younger in the First World War. The relationship with her mother was of an altogether different nature. Alice was affectionate, emotional, a sparkling character, and clearly adored by her daughter. Her perfectionism, attentiveness to detail and generosity are characteristics which she seemed to have passed on to her daughter. On her death in 1920 Helen Sutherland also inherited her large fortune.

Helen Sutherland. Her mother's death did nothing to bring father and daughter any closer. Thomas Sutherland sold the country house they had built near Liss in Hampshire without consulting or even informing his daughter, a curious On move, as it was a place she loved dearly. On his death, two years after his wife, he left his large fortune to the King Edward's Hospital Fund:

... holding that his daughter had already o

inherited enough from her mother; which she •—; would not have disputed, though she did claim, S, with some justification, that she could have given * She had married Richard »" money away with more imagination. (Dick) Denman in 1904, but (Nicolete Gray) it was a sorry, short-lived affair and later annulled. It serves no purpose here to speculate on what went so disastrously wrong in this marriage, but it sounds like a period of general unhappiness for her, of insecurity and of a lackof any role that madesense to her. She had been introduced into a London society which did little to add to her confidence. This lack of any real role recurred as a concern throughout her life, for although well-educated and highly intelligent shewas ill-equipped to work in the conventional sense. It was only later, largely through her ability to become a surrogate parent to so many of her 'family' that she seemed to find a belief in herselfand the confidence to fashion the course of her life in the way that suited her. Although her independence and income were now assured, the loss of both parents and her two brothers meant Helen Sutherland was without any close blood ties. And whether or not there was a connection, it was in the period that followed that she set about creating her 'own' family. She moved to a fairly grand house of her own in Lowndes Square, London. Then during the twenties, she developed her connections with artists, writers, poets, archi tects and musicians, but particularly with certain little-known contemporary painters working in London at the time, establishing a circle of friends that were constant visitors when she moved to Rock at the end ofthe decade. The friendships she made, in many caseslasting for several decades, were so close that they slipped easily into the categories frequendy occupied by sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews and even by children and grandchildren. She was to shower on to this 'family' her wealth, affections, aspirations, anxieties, and expectations, and occasionally her disapproval. Decades later she wrote in her diary:

! i £• When my parents died in 1920-21 I had no more family - no children and then Ibegan to 2 know artists and through them I was not only enriched, blessed and delighted -fed and watered § - 'bread and ivine and gaiety' but Iwas engaged, involved in their problems and needs - their O poverty very often - but always with their beautiful interior wealth. And tho' Inever thought of •2 it at the time - it was akind offamily life given from above -I was immensely involved • « though looking back Iwish Ihad realised it all more and becomefar more engaged and •J involved. Yet the relationship was perhaps better remaining in its unconsciousness. It was when "^ / began wondering why Ihadfelt so bound to my 'new' relationships that I realised that this S relationship included responsibilities, problems, ties - which as Ilook back Isee as something "§, angelically given to me as asort of parallel and equivalent to family ties, burdens, duties and p/ above all Delight. < Perhaps dear Kathleen IRaineJ saying to me not long ago that I had been "like amother" to her, sowed the seed ofthe above realisation - At the time Ifelt it was all a case ofmy receiving - only the need to account for being so caught up in these new relationships to old and dearfriends to whom I seem to have been unfaithful - has made me realise that there was a vocational side to the relationship not ofmy making but as I nowfeel andfeel profoundly touched at the realisation - a relationship given to me from above' ...It seems all receiving on my side but that is what Heavenly gifts are.

One of the principal intentions of Helen Sutherland in her moves to Rock and Cockley Moor was to provide a place for her circle to stay. But this was no routine gesture of hospitality. Throughout the summer months - she would normally 'close down' for the winter - she would entertain numbers of visitors, some staying for many weeks on end.

This house is a kind, an odd kind, of Monastery - Retreat - andme a sort of Abbess? -1 am reading St Beuve's Port Royalandapparently in old days people of the world tvent into nunneries .. monasteries - without taking vows butfor a kind of prolonged retreat - a better kind than I can provide - still I would like to think of this house as that kind ofplace - a place ofcontemplation - and inpeace - a stimulus - from Nature andfrom human meetings - and unth something ofa Divine influence too ... I love to feel this housefull ofall the people I love -full actually when they are here -full when they have gone - carrying something of this away and leaving an influence of themselves here. These high ideals gave staying in her house aparticular stamp, something far £ removed from the traditional country house weekend with its sporting activ- §" ities and indulgent atmosphere. Staying with Helen Sutherland demanded 02 something far greater from her guests and an implicit understanding that they =f" respected and shared these ideals. It was a rarefied atmosphere, and certainly I" noteveryone could stay thecourse. Edward Hodgkin gives a vivid account of ^" life as a guest at Rock - though his description would be equally apt for q Cockley Moor: §. i Large though Rock Hall was, it was not one ofthose houses where guests can look after % themselves and follow their own pursuits independent ofhost and hostess. Punctuality at meals was essential, and though it was always possible to retire to one's bedroom for some laudable object like study orpainting, visitors were expected to join in all activities arranged for their benefit, whether this was a long walk in the hills, reading Wordsworth aloud after dinner, going to church, orlistening toa recital of music. At all times you were expected to pull your weight with intelligent conversation. You were not expected to bring muddy shoes into the house, to make loud noises, to ask forspecialfavours in the way offood and drink, to read Tfie Times before she did, to sleep with your bedroom window shut, or to stay up after your hostess had decided it was time to go to bed. I don't remember everfinding these restrictions particularly tiresome, but then I had grown up with them. Tlwse who first came into contact with them in adult life, particularly ifused to a more easy-going lifestyle, could rebel. But rebellion was more inadmissible than anything else.

Nicolete Gray describes being a guest (she first went when she was seventeen):

It was indeed something ofan ordeal, in the basic sense ofthe word; one had to contribute, to be beautiful ifpossible and wear beautiful (not necessarily smart or conventional) clothes, to join in the conversation (and Helen was ruthless to those whose contribution was foolish or trivial), to conform to the spirit ofthe house which was something positive. Tltefood and wine were rare and delicious butfrugal, one was expected to be appreciative, but not greedy, indeed it was more spiritual than a bodily nourishment; one should be exquisitely clean, but not waste the water, or the electricity. And most difficult, most rewarding, was Helen herself. She could be delightfully gay and she could be very intolerant, jealous ofher house and possessions, angry and suddenly defensive ... what impressed me was the being aware for the first time ofsomeone who was wrestling with her temper and possessiveness, admitting them, trying, in our company to find truths and values and translate them into living. Being aguest was hard and upsets over transgressions occurred, but, if it could |>» be tolerated, it was doubtless an atmosphere that had so much to offer. Many I people went back time and time again along with their children, who in their U turn became independent visitors. Particularly at Cockley Moor, children _ were left alone in her care. The authoritarianism which could prove too « irksome for some adults, was generally tolerated and even enjoyed by children. •J Certainly she was strict and the regimented day was not relaxed for their "Z benefit. Though she doubdess made many mistakes (and who doesn't!) she g seems to have had an instinctive understanding of children's needs. It is an "§, indication ofher success as a surrogate mother that several parents entrusted g their little children to her care, often for very long periods. Nicolete Gray < wrote in 1940:

Dear Helen, We think there is, I suppose, a possibility that Basil and I might get killed at the same time, that we ought to try to make some provision for our children's upbringing. Could weask you to be their guardian? I know that is a very great responsibility and burden and a very great thing for us to ask, but we have only thought of what seems bestfor the children - there will befourin November.

Fortunately this proved unnecessary, but three of the children, Sophy, Cecilia and Edmund, spent months on end with Helen Sutherland and speak warmly of the experience. Her readiness to welcome a long-term commitment with children was illustrated by a letter she wrote to Kathleen Raine prior to an operation:

Dearest Kathleen, ifanything should go wrong (and before any operation one has to face that responsibility) ifI am still here I will do all I can to look after your Anna and Jamesfor you - what can Ido for you? for the hospital time? Is there anything of comfort you need? She could be fun to stay with, and it would have surprised many to overhear a her frequendy using the endearment 'mon petit choux'. The Gray children § were encouraged to put on art shows, complete with an opening and little red Z 'sold' spots. Most ofall, however, she was able to offer a feeling of security. I Within the framework ofher rules and rituals, children as well as adults knew | where they stood. Sophy describes how rituals such as stripping the bed each a. morning and making it in a very exacting manner was like playing a game. f\, Kathleen Raine wrote contrastingly as an adult: "to this day I feel a certain §- sense of guilt for notturning my mattress when I make my bed- she kept us *< all to a high standard in all we did, but was kindness andtolerance itself when f^ it came to our work." The regime in somesense lifted children into another ^ world of play-actingand make-believeso that the routine was fun rather than onerous. Children would also be fascinated by the refinements they saw around them, by the fine linen and china, the fragrant soaps, luxurious towels, elegant furniture and exquisite rugs and the countless books and paintings. In some ways it must have felt a bit like tip-toeing around someone's castle, fasci nating but just a touch frightening too. The first children to stay at Cockley Moor were evacuees from the slums of Newcastle. Their daily walk to school through fields of horses, sheep and cows would have been strange,but these city kidsmust alsohave been a shock for Helen Sutherland. She wrote in July 1940:

I've just got two little evacuated children here, little boys 6 and 8 - Touching they are -Ifeel so anxious their time here should be an enriching one - that I can give them something ofthe things I have been given - beautiful manners - and health and deep religion - sensi tiveness in mind and emotions - there isso much to learn oneself. Tliey are so dependent on us these young children aren't they? Tliey seem to come and ask for bread atevery moment - and there seems so much planting, watering, pruning, staking and feeding to do. Patient feeding seems the great thing and I think to leave them a bit to themselves. Tltere seems to be a danger ofquick-witted town children to be shallow - I am glad to have a war job and it is a very living and human one - though quite difficult to tackle in my old age as it is a very ceaseless preoccupation.

in >« Tricky though it might have been learning to live with two young boys, more 2 were to follow. A month later she wrote:

« Did I tell you Ihavefive small evacuated boys here now - aged 5 and | 6and ahalf and one is eight and ahalf. -Ido keep them happy and 2 in some order I think! - but I am struggling to make them play - without making a most hideous din without ceasing -I suppose it comes from shouting in schools? It makes one's headfeel empty and -£e shattered and I cannot collect myfive wits while itgoes on -I do not j= think it need be made all day - next week they go to school again - "Z thank God, and there is a little time for other things which after all must be done.

Five small boys under nine is a rude awakening to surrogate motherhood, but what I admire is her determination not just to cope (and remembering that she was still very short-staffed) but to try to make something of the experience, to offer the boys something more than pure physical care:

My life is now almost entirely in these little boys - their well-balanced meals!! their regular eliminations! their manners to people and things and to all creatures - their happiness - singing, reading, dancing, exercises, weeding, fresh air, language, learning to talk, learning to write letters home to their mothers - enlarging their vocabulary - what they learn 1hope mayfor the time being add to the sense ofrichness and mystery oflife • they adore their baths and washes ofwhich we make asort ofritual order night and morning - Igetfrantic with them sometimes - partly it just runs off them they being 5 to 1!! Partly too I think they learn somethingfrom that also. I try to grapple with their reiteration of-"I don't want to" or "Idon't like" - on the whole they are marvellously good, intelligent and sensible and the boys I think have an eager desire to learn and to act and learn chiefly by action.

Somewhere in the middle of this melee shedoes find timefor her old life:

/ lift my eyes to the hills - how beautiful they are - I've seen afew blessedfriends - I've read by Arnold Toynbce what I think is agrand pamphlet about Christianity and Civilisation. She was obviously eager to keep her sights on the theory! The following summer she was still looking after the evacuees, but she also had in her temporary care the two young children of Kathleen Raine. This made seven =: children in total. Mindful of the forthcoming longsummer break, she asked a local girl who was due to start teacher training that autumn to come and help straight away, and 'to bring her slippers along with her". Margaret Atkinson

was offered tenshillings to take over their day-time care. A room was set aside 0 as a school room with a round table to work on: copious crayons, paper and books were made available. Margaret took the opportunity to try a bit of unscheduled teaching practice - and was delighted to find her payment turned out to be ten shillings a day rather than for the week. She particularly recalls Helen Sutherland dealing with her little brood at mealtimes, popping lingers ofbrown bread into ever-open mouths, much in the fashion ofa mother bird. In the afternoons the children hadan hour's nap on camp beds. She undertook the bathing and scrubbing of the children herself, and bath-time, followed by

Evacuees. >* story-time sounds Uke fun all round. But there were clearly many conflicts 2 too. Tommy, one ofthe evacuees once ran off, hotly pursued bythe gardener. £ She enthused about children and childhood, but at the same time, however U much warmth she could display, she still needed some distance. Children had -o their place and she had hers. This was accepted and understood, as it was with « her adult guests. The first floor suite of rooms, her inner sanctum where her •f* Mondrian hung, was inviolable, as was her wood where she went for undis- « turbed enjoyment of the birds. Her daily walk on the fell behind Cockley 5= Moor, dressed in one of her inimitable hats and with her current dog in tow, was scheduled to be at a different time to the children's daily walk.

In 1940, that first year at Cockley Moor, the arrival of the evacuees coincided with that of Kathleen Raine, who had brought her own children away from London. Their meeting almost certainlydid more to help Helen Sutherland put down roots than anything else. Twenty five yearslater, she wrote in response to Kathleen's dedication of Tlie Hollow Hill to her:

/ am deeply deeply touched that you should dedicate this great and wonderful poetry to me - it is almost unbelievable -1 think Heaven sent me yourfriendship when I was lonely in heart and mindfor my dear and beautiful Northumberland home and all that greatly loved landscape, sea shore, moors, hills, saints, legends, birds and all thefriends who came there - and you came with your wonderful poetry and all the passion ofyour nature and all your beautiful goodness and all the sometimes darknesses and difficulties and all your relationships and anxious care and love for your children and all the times and difficulties ofholding to and growing to afriendship which though it is immediate yet has to be slowly won in life's reality - but we have been blest. It has lived and grown forme in all the beauty ofyour vision and genius. Ihis letter was written on her own notepaper, designed by Nicolcte Gray. She U; embellished it in a way typical of her. drawing attention to the Church IT calendar, and particularly appropriate to this letter's content. \n

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The depth of their friendship wasgreatly to enrich Helen Sutherland's last two decades. Helen Sutherland, in her turn, was to provide Kathleen Raine with material support and with the anchorage she so dearly needed for her troubled, tempestuous personality. Although there were other friendships that were equally close, perhaps Kathleen Raine and David Jones were special, with their problems and their need for support. They spent long periods at Cockley Moor. Kathleen using it as a base to write many of her poemsand books, and David to paint and write. During his stay in August 1946. David wrote toJim Ede:

/ am trying to do a painting or so. Nothing much shakes yet Ifear. I've just torn up a particularly awful daub that went wrong yesterday, which I've been trying to get right all day - it's fatal to mess about with them when they get really muddy in the fond hope ofsomething emerging by luck / do wish I could do some better paintings. I'm jolly rusty Isuppose or it may be 1shan't be able to do the old kind again - this uniting may have done something to me. I'd much rather paint than write, ifonly I could. I hope you are right about this new writing. I do indeed. I read some of it to Kathleen Raine and Helen and I 'era 'by special request!) last night. They seemed to like it quite a bit but I'm afraid it's damned obscure.

That letter was written shortly before David Jones suffered another major breakdown. He himself recognised that he had already done most of his best paintings. He increasingly concentrated on poetry and inscriptions. c 1

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The Hogget, Watermillock Common, Matterdale, 1946. David Jones.

The idea that herhome could beused as a creative base was one deeply cherished by Helen Sutherland. Iler company and theatmosphere of her house stimulated other artists, poets and writers, whose poetry or paintings were sometimes inspired by Cockley Moor and its views. To Kathleen Raine and David Jones it meant rather more, however: it was a creative home, a place where they could go to do their work.