The Beehive: the official blog of the Massachusetts Historical Society

Gertrude Codman Carter’s Diary, March 1917

Today we return to the 1917 diary of Gertrude Codman Carter. You may read the previous entries here:

Introduction | January | February

All but the last page of March 1917 is sliced out of the diary; a practice of selective record-keeping that seems to have been somewhat routine for Carter (or her descendents).  On the page for March 29 - 31, we are left a few brief notes about a charity auction, Palm Sunday, and a pencil sketch of son John refusing his medicine -- “see preceding page,” reads the note, below, referring to an entry no longer available to us.



In search of any additional information the  MHS library might hold related to Carter’s life during this time, I called up a box from the Marian Lawrence Peabody papers in which can be found four folders of letters from Marian’s friend Gertrude. Carter was apparently out of the habit of dating her letters, but did charmingly illustrate her missives much as she does her diary. In the absence of March 1917 diary entries, I instead share with you two of Carter’s undated letters with their accompanying illustrations, that survive within the Peabody papers. Both seem to post-date the period of the diary which we are reading, since the first recounts the adventures of an adolescent John and the second suggests that John was an independent adult who might drop by “to pass the time” with his mother.

The first letter I selected was written in late September (of an unknown year, perhaps in the 1920s) while traveling on board the R.M.S. Mauretania.

* * *

29th Sept

Dear Marian,

This is a fine ship but the writing desks are arranged for hippopotomi. I can’t get near this one and I am, as you know, no sylph. Still, nothing shall prevent me from returning our correspondence, especially when I remember what a nice welcome you gave me in Bar Harbour.



All of America was splendid but we did look back on Bar Harbour as the best of all. Those pines and mountains, the glorious air & all the various dinner picnics, etc. The frescoes impress me more than words can say. I’d give anything if you’d come down & paint the grand canal of venice on my staircase. I believe we could amuse you for a fortnight -- I have to remember that you said Gertrude’s holidays didn’t work out properly. In that case you’ll have to dash down without her. They are certainly very safe at her age, schools & relations have them in care & as they have to do what they are told, you can rest in safety. I realise this especially at this juncture -- Eton takes such enveloping care. A “dame” lives there with a complete pharmacy in [case of] accidents & a battery of pills & powders -- when I realize that John next week will be [illegible] on his own at Cambridge & no one noticing whether he is ill or not or cold or not, I tremble. -- We went to Boston from Bar Harbour & proceeded to inspect Codman roots at Lincoln, Parker roots at [illegible], the rum-running industries at Cohasset. Only we saw nothing of it except the fog. Cousin Susy took us to a lovely Carillon of Bells, & John was handed over to some of the young people in the neighborhood. Charlie Cobb took us afterward to the Bank & John was enchanted with the amusement of Checking the Securities & learning the difference between a share & a bond.  Then we went out to Dover in the last of the time. Tony Parker was always a friend of John & gave him motor lessons in the truck. I saw plenty of Forbes & [illegible] & Potters, etc. I missed Terry Morse’s entertainments, he was always so full of amusements. Miss Forbes was awfully nice in giving John, [illegible] flat at the [illegible] house to keep his things & sleep as we flitted from place to place, while I was at the Club. Washington was a joy. Perfect weather sunshine & fall moon & the Admiralty came to see the [illegible] in, a nice Captain [illegible] was most kind and useful. The [illegible] New York was thrilling. John in love with these [illegible] of engineering and with the same [illegible] with which he climbed the Mts. of Mt. Deseret, ascended everything & dived into the subway. Gerry C. materialized & took us to dine at the St. Regis [illegible] & to a play. We saw the “Little Show” which had some good times. I am [illegible] with the idea of turning the Churches into apartment houses who rent will pay all the expenses of running a chapel on top or a crypt. I haven’t discovered which! Now do write to me & tell me everything from the moment of my departure. Address c/o [illegible] 43 Charing X, London. As I shall not go to Barbadoes much before Dec. Lots of love, Gertrude.

* * *

The second letter, likely post-dating the first, was written while in Boston and struggling with what appears to have been chronic knee pain.

* * *

56 Commonwealth
Friday Eve

My dear Marian, I was hoping for a word from you, especially today, as I finally called upon Dr. Wheeler -- the old reliable of a 20-year arrangement -- and he sent me around to a Dr. Morrison to be x-rayed -- isn’t it a painful process? -- I never can understand the medical mind. The last time I hurt my knee, Dr. Moore concentrated on my ankle & to-day all the interested was centered on my back, none of the photographs (five) appeared to be aimed at my knee at all! -- I have given the matter profound thought & have decided there’s a dash of Christian Science in the treatment & the idea is produce a happy state of mind in the patient -- I can see that the beautiful time you are having in that wonderful house & with your charming hostess is being very beneficial. Wheeler is a merry Andrew. His prescription (which I opened in the taxi on the way to the x-ray place) read: “If you don’t want to go back to the nurse & formetations [sic], instead - soak in a hot bath 1/2 hour three times a day, take lots of aspirin -- 6 or 8 tablets a day, (signed), love & kisses Roy Wheeler (!!). On the whole your programme of gay [illegible] sounds much nicer but the idea is the same -- build up the ego! -- But the prescription is certainly difficult.



Suppose the telephone rings. Or the laundry arrives. Or dear little Miss Forbes arrives with some strawberries or John Codman drops in to pass the time of day? So I have arranged to take two of the baths per day at the Club. I hope it will work out all right. It seems a waste of time. But after all town is empty and time is what I have got a lot of.

Your affectionate,


* * *

If you are interested in viewing the diary or letters yourself, in our library, or have other questions about the collection please visit the library or contact a member of the library staff for further assistance.


permalink | Published: Friday, 24 March, 2017, 12:00 AM


Commenting has closed for this post. Thank you for participating.