Last weekend, while watching the 1942 British war-at-sea film In Which We Serve, I sewed the 2,000th square into the Nelson Quilt.
I like films about the Navy, and working on the Nelson Quilt while watching Naval dramas – like In Which We Serve – always feels very appropriate. The direction of In Which We Serve is often credited to Noel Coward (who also wrote the screenplay and starred as Captain Kinross), but a young film editor named David Lean directed the action sequences. According to the British Film Institute, ‘although Lean insisted on sharing the direction credit with Coward, his name is barely mentioned in the publicity material for the film, which does not even carry a photograph of him … Coward left Lean to more or less shoot the film on his own, while he concentrated on playing the lead role.’
David Lean started his career working for none other than Maurice Elvey (whose 1918 Nelson film inspired the Nelson Quilt). Lean’s earliest film work was as an uncredited runner on Quinneys (1927) and then as an uncredited camera assistant on some of Elvey’s late silents including Palais de Danse (1927), and High Treason (1929), which was released in both silent and sound versions. Many years later, Lean told his biographer, Kevin Brownlow, how moved he had been to touch the camera that had filmed Elvey’s Hound of the Baskervilles (1921): ‘“I couldn’t believe that this was the source of all the magic,” he mused.’ David Lean went on to become one of the great directors of British cinema, with credits including This Happy Breed, Lawrence of Arabia, and The Bridge on the River Kwai, but he never forgot how Elvey had encouraged him when he was a young man with an ambition to work in the movies.
When In Which We Serve was over, I started to think about the progress of the Nelson Quilt. Sewing square number 2,000 is a real milestone in a project that started out as an experiment. Back in July 2014, I was asked by a fellow quilter what I was working on. I remember answering nervously, ‘It’s – um – a portrait of Nelson, but I don’t know if it is going to work.’
A month later, I was excitedly showing off my handiwork. Friends tried very hard to see the beginnings of the face that was so clear to me, but couldn’t work out what I was showing them.
And then a breakthrough – suddenly, at 490 squares, the face became visible:
From that point on he (and, yes, by that point, I had started referring to the quilt as “he”) just grew and grew:
There are still 1,200 Nelson Quilt squares to sew, there’s more Elvey research to write about, and there are more Naval dramas to watch. What could be better?