1882–1972

Introduction

Born: Feb­ru­ary 10, 1882, Brough­ton, Sal­ford, Eng­land.

Died: 1972, Ti­vo­li Nurs­ing Home, Dún Lao­ghaire, Coun­ty Dub­lin, Ire­land.

Buried: Rath­coole, Coun­ty Dub­lin, Ireland.

Biography

Winifred was the daugh­ter of Er­nest Letts, an Eng­lish cler­ic, and Is­a­bel Ma­ry Fer­ri­er, and wife of wi­dow­er Will­iam Hen­ry Fos­ter Ver­schoyle, of Ki­lber­ry, County Kil­dare (mar­ried 1926).

Winfred spent ma­ny child­hood ho­li­days in Knock­ma­roon, Phoe­nix Park, Dub­lin, her mo­ther’s home. After her fa­ther’s death, she and her mo­ther re­turned to Ire­land and lived in a house called Dal Ri­ada in Black­rock, Coun­ty Dub­lin.

She was edu­cat­ed first in Brom­ley in Kent, and lat­er at Al­ex­an­dra Col­lege in Dub­lin. She trained as a mas­seuse and dur­ing World War I worked at ar­my camps in Man­che­ster.

After mar­riage, the cou­ple lived in Fitz­will­iam Square, Dub­lin, and in Coun­ty Kil­dare. After Will­iams death in 1943, Wi­ni­fred lived for a time with her sis­ters in Fa­vers­ham, Kent.

She re­turned to Ire­land in 1950 and bought Beech Cot­tage in Kill­i­ney, Coun­ty Dub­lin, where she lived un­til fin­al­ly mov­ing to the Ti­vo­li Nurs­ing Home, Dún Lao­ghaire, in the late 1960s.

Works

Poem

Chaplain to the Forces

Ambassador of Christ you go
Up to the very gates of hell,
Through fog of powder, storm of shell,
To speak your Master’s message: Lo,
The Prince of Peace is with you still,
His peace be with you, His goodwill.

It is not small, your priesthood’s price,
To be a man and yet stand by,
To hold your life whilst others die,
To bless, not share the sacrifice,
To watch the strife and take no part—
You with the fire at your heart.

But yours, for our great Captain Christ
To know the sweat of agony,
The darkness of Gethsemane
In anguish for these souls unpriced.
Vicegerent of God’s pity you,
A sword must pierce your own soul through.

In the pale gleam of new-born day
Apart in some tree-shadowed place,
Your altar but a packing case,
Rude as the shed where Mary lay,
Your sanctuary the rain-drenched sod
You bring the kneeling soldier, God.

As sentinel you guard the gate
’Twixt life and death, and unto death
Speed the brave soul whose failing breath
Shudders not at the grip of Fate,
But answers, gallant to the end,
Christ is the Word—and I His friend.

Then God go with you, priest of God,
For all is well and shall be well.
What though you tread the roads of hell?
With nail-pierced feet these ways He trod.
Above the anguish and the loss
Still floats the ensign of His cross.

Winifred Mary Letts
The Spires of Oxford, 1917

Sources

Lyrics

Help Needed

If you know where to get a good pho­to of Letts (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),