An epistolary historical fiction story inspired by the enduring friendship between Charmian Kittredge London (1871-1955), writer Jack London’s wife, and her friend Grace Hudson (1865-1937), nationally known artist based in Ukiah.
Note: Charmian referred to Grace as ‘Huddy’ while Grace called Charmian ‘Kittage’.
Thanks goes to the Grace Hudson Museum in Ukiah for allowing me to view their Grace Hudson correspondence.
September 20, 1911
My dearest Huddy:
Jack says I’m charmingly complex, and that I display a fair share of physical courage as I ride the trails and undertake our various journeys. But what, I ask you, is not to like about discovering our own, or nearby backyards of Sonoma and Mendocino Counties?
It was other-worldly riding through the towering redwood forest. These primeval mammoths leave one with a dream image. They cannot be faithfully described, as they are so out-of-the-ordinary with, not only their immense stature, but their ever-changing hues- the result of the mysterious light from coastal fog. This delicate cocoon of coastal moisture lovingly bathes the tall trees with its life-giving breath. The forest is truly from a different time, and knowing that these agents from ages past live amongst a primeval species of ferns further creates the ethereal effect we relish. When standing still here, a hush overcame us, creating a cathedral-like experience. Nearby, we rode under oak forests, set like a colorful umbrella, and so lovely in their own way.
Huddy, you once told me that the First People here believed in manipulating the environment to meet their needs- for example, they regularly burned underbrush in the oak forests so that the valuable ash could enhance soils to grow the acorns that they rely upon, as well as reduce insects detrimental to their acorn harvest. Keep teaching me about those Indian people that are so special to you- those who you portray so very lifelike in your marvelous works of art.
Love,
Charmian
January 21, 1912Dear Kittage,
I do, indeed, know just what you have so eloquently put into words regarding the redwood forests’ mystical beauty, as John and I have camped, hiked, fished, and hunted in the very matchless setting which you so aptly describe.
I, too, love that you are every bit as fearless as I, Kittage dear. The things I crave and take for granted, such as riding, painting, swimming, and even hunting small game- as well as hiking the always-enchanted Ukiah hillsides, all belong to me. I will not let anyone take those away from me.
It is indeed serendipitous that we should meet back when we did, but then why not? It appears that so many events were destined to transpire and mingle to bring about our cherished friendship- my sketches in the Overland Monthly journal, and John’s interest in the Ukiah’s Indian ways, dear Mother’s contributions to the periodical- not to mention Father’s photographs- all played their part in our budding friendship.
And isn’t it just the astonishing way of this unpredictable world that we should meet at such a tender age when you and Frank posed for the magazine illustrations I sketched? Don’t you both look swell with your fancy duds, and Frank, looking to be ever the little gent, tying the pretty ribbon on your bonnet! How adorable you two look in the photograph of Theophilus d’Estrella at Camp Navarro. Knowing you as I do now, what an actress you were, declining the advances of Frank in another Camp Navarro photograph! We both know that your lust for life would not prohibit a buss from an admiring gent!
I will, as you requested, send to you in a forthcoming post, facts about our modest Pomo and their cultural ways.
Love,
Grace
February 7, 1912Dear Huddy: –
In one of our conversational threads, do you recall our mirth discussing how we contrast with other women we know? When Jack and I married in 1905, he propelled me into the eyes of the public, but I, like you, am not planning on changing my ways simply to appease others’ dislike of myself. I’ll continue riding horseback in the ‘cross saddle’ fashion, as I know you do, thank you very much!
Netta and Roscoe, in their own manner, and, I’m certain, for their own reasons, enforced within my character the importance of self-sufficiency. I enjoy my books, and keep up with the ‘bookish’ Overland Monthly magazine discussion group I so love. If others do not approve, then so be it. I have to admit that it did sting to be labeled a home wrecker, however. Don’t you love that the wheels of progress, albeit slow, are evolving to include the female’s role now, and change is beginning ? I’ve always felt it imperative to make an art of one’s life and to live fearlessly. Once again, I know you do too, dear Huddy.
Love,
Charmian
May 14, 1912 Dear Kittage,
I so look forward to the letters you send. They paint such pronounced pictures in my mind’s eye. Speaking of painting, Pomo women weaving their baskets by the stream never cease to engage my interest. All that they need is right here, at Nature’s hand. They are so clever as to employ supple willow switches and sedge plants for basketry materials. Those who denigrate these proud peoples, touting them as savages, have not taken the time to realize all that the Pomo know. You were asking about their traditions- I will attempt to teach you some of what they have taught me. It is a privilege to watch them work, and they inspire my paintings in so very many ways.
The Pomo Indians’ hunter-gatherer way of life necessitates an assortment of basketry containers and implements, such as baskets for holding seeds they’ve collected. Fish traps are also made of woven, basket-like materials, as are hunting traps used to collect quail and woodpeckers. Another, the basket-hopper was set over a mortar to collect acorn meal as it was ground into a type of flour. Some baskets are woven with beautiful, geometric patterns unlike any you may have seen. Kittage, there are even baby baskets- cradles that are lovingly woven by deft hands.
The Pomo have plants which they have specially selected for their own particular uses in basket-making- dogwood, white willow, sedge, bullrush, and Redbud. Tule reeds and wild grapevines are also employed. I hope I did not bore you with talk of the lovely Pomos who teach me as much as I teach them.
Love,
Grace
August 27, 1914Dear Huddy:-
There is a hint of fall in the air this August day, as we sail upon the vast, ocean-like waters of Lake County’s Clear Lake. The sun shines at a slightly different angle now, and the wind stirs up, creating whitecaps that break across the surface waters. As we made our way past a few bobbing boats, I turned to take in the splendor of Lake County’s most prominent landmark- Mt. Konocti.
It is said that Clear Lake’s sentinel stands over 4,000 feet above sea level, and is considered to be the Indian’s holy grounds. As the water laps insistently at the hull, I can sense an awareness of this lake’s past. In my mind’s eye I witness the same sites the natives viewed as they gazed these shores long ago- a majestic great blue heron gliding overhead and perching near the reeds to dine on frogs, a desultory afternoon watching fat fish leap out of the waters, or, a water-strider gilding across the invisible film on top of calm water near the lake’s shore as we absorb the warming sun, allowing it to fill us with its restorative medicine.
Love,
Charmian
October 12, 1914Dear Kittage,
When I learned of your sailing adventure upon the nearby waters of Clear Lake, I had no trouble envisioning your descriptions of the wild afternoon waves and the transport traffic that ferries people across the relatively shallow waters. I have been enthused to make my sketches along its ancient shores from time to time.
At the lake shore one can sit, complacent, surrounded by sun-scorched golden hills. Yes, the Pomo people have told me of the sacred Konocti mountain that looms above the lake.
Have you experienced the bubbling waters of Clear Lake? They rise up from deep below, and the waters there are warm and soothing. If you haven’t soaked in Clear Lake’s Soda Bath Springs, you haven’t lived! I’m reminded of Yeats, who said, ” I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore… I hear it in the deep heart’s core.”
Doesn’t it gladden your heart to see these wondrous nearby places that speak to your very soul?
Love,
Grace
November 12, 1914Dear Huddy,
If you recall a previous letter regarding our passing by the Langtry Farms- she would have been someone to meet- a kindred spirit indeed! Lillie Langtry, British-born bon vivant, had six brothers and was a relentless tomboy growing up! Huddy, we all have so much in common: She was known for her cliff-climbing abilities, was a sturdy swimmer, and took pleasure in bareback riding. I understand that her childhood on the Isle of Jersey was chock full of fun and all manner of tom-foolery!
So much so that her French governess felt powerless at managing her impulsive charge; hence, the task of educating Miss Lillie was given over to her brothers’ tutor. Luckily for Lillie, she received a better education than most young women in her day- much like us, eh, Huddy?
She had quite the colorful life abroad, but made an auspicious visit to California.
Her journey commenced with an acting tour in New York. You knew that Oscar Wilde acted as her advance man then? It was Oscar who made the fateful introductions that led to Lilly meeting Freddie Gebhard, the wealthy Baltimore playboy. Her extended tour landed her in San Francisco. Oh, how she loved the beauty surrounding California! She was fearless, as we strive to be, Huddy! She traveled to Monterey and Yosemite with Freddie, but there was a slight problem: she had never formally divorced Edward Langtry, since England’s strict laws prohibited it.
With rumors flying (We know what that is like, don’t we?), she and Freddie scouted out a charming hide-out in the Guenoc Valley, Lake County, California- ages away from her estranged husband and the nasty rumor-mongers. Here she could live in the handsome house, with Freddy taking up residence in a hunting lodge that was conveniently close by. After she met the legal residency requirements, she filed for citizenship before her divorce was granted.
Lillie loved the land, and she established orchards, vineyards, and a winery. Her life was a combination of excitement, fame, and fortune, but it also contained elements that we so crave, Huddy- the bucolic charms of the countryside.
Love,
Charmian
