Counting One's Blessings

by William Shawcross

  Tomorrow we hope to see the Tattoo, as it rained the last time we tried to go, and I am longing to see it. It is really very sad to think that in two days that wonderful Exhibition† will be no more, and the fairylike buildings empty and forlorn – I do hope they will be suitably occupied soon, & not allowed to go forever.

  I am really feeling very well; except for headaches, and probably soon they will go. Bertie & I are so pleased and excited about it all, & talk endlessly on the subject, which is perhaps a little previous!

  With much love darling Mama

  I am your loving

  daughter in law

  Elizabeth

  8 January 1926 to Mrs Beevers

  Curzon House

  Curzon Street

  W.1

  Dear Mrs Beevers,*

  I am so very glad that you are able to come to me in April, and shall feel very safe and happy in your hands I know.

  My mother wants me to have a tonic of sorts, as I get rather tired (& irritable I fear!) and she thinks you would know of something. If you do, would you very kindly send it here?

  If not, just let me know, and I’ll ask the doctor for something.

  Yours very sincerely,

  Elizabeth

  13 March 1926 to Lady Helen Graham†

  Curzon House

  My dear Nellie,

  I can’t tell you how delighted I am that you will take on the job of lady in waiting. It will be so so nice for me, and I do hope that you will like it. […] There is no hurry at all about it; perhaps you will come & see me when you come to London, & we can arrange things. Engagements are made so far ahead nowadays, that you will be able to make your plans quite easily, and I really need very little – just a few letters to answer, & protection from certain determined old snobs!!

  I really am so pleased that you have accepted, & now that I am writing to you, I would like to say how terribly sorry I was about your father’s death. It is such a terrible break-up, I do feel so terribly sorry for you all, & send you my real sympathy.

  Ever yours affec:

  Elizabeth

  12 April 1926 to Queen Mary

  17 Bruton Street

  My Darling Mama

  The baby clothes have all arrived, and they really are quite exquisite. I do not feel that I can ever thank you enough for giving me such a lovely present, but at any rate, it is very much appreciated. The day frocks are too angelic, and the little sheets I examine all day! I do thank you so very much; you are far too kind and give me such divine things.

  I am just sitting here waiting now, though I don’t think it will make an appearance for another two or three weeks. It is very dull, but I haven’t got very long to wait now, and Bertie is being angelic, and so understanding.

  I expect Windsor must be looking delicious, and I hope you are having a rest after your more than strenuous winter, and all its anxiety.

  With much love darling Mama, and again a thousand thanks from your loving daughter in law

  Elizabeth

  Princess Elizabeth was born at home in Bruton Street on 21 April 1926. The next day the Duke of York wrote to his mother, saying, ‘You don’t know what a tremendous joy it is to Elizabeth & me to have our little girl. We always wanted a child to make our happiness complete, & now that it has at last happened, it seems so wonderful & strange.’*

  9 August 1926 to Lady Strathmore

  Bruton Street

  My Darling Sweet

  I am so dreadfully ashamed, but I have just found a letter I wrote last week in my blotter, about plans, and so I have hurriedly sent you a telegram. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, as you must have thought me so odd not writing. […] I hope it’s alright coming on Wednesday morning.

  Bertie, and I, the baby, Alah† & nurserymaid, Catherine & Osborn!!‡ Isn’t it a terrible party?

  I simply can’t tell you how much I am looking forward to a peaceful time at Glamis. I haven’t really been properly in the country since last September, & I am longing for the country. […]

  Mother, Bertie’s brother David is longing to come to Glamis for a night or two at the end of September, only he doesn’t want to be a nuisance he says. I told him the Forfar Ball was on then, & he would love to come unless he’s in the way. Do tell me when I come up. He is so frightfully modest, & is terrified of pushing in where he’s not wanted. […]

  Goodbye darling, I am longing for Wednesday.

  Your very loving

  Elizabeth

  5October 1926 to Mrs Beevers

  Glamis Castle

  Dearest Nannie B

  Thank you a thousand times for the darling little boots & the little shoes which are perfect. She wears both pink & blue, so either colour would do if you were thinking of making another pair. I am longing for you to see her – she is growing so big and is as sharp as a needle, & so well.

  She sleeps beautifully, and has always got a smile ready. You won’t recognize her!

  I am very well, and had a delicious long rest up here which I loved. I hope I shall see you in London – do come in when you can. We shall get to Bruton St on the 11th, and we shall be very busy preparing for this horrible trip.

  Thank you again so much for the boots & shoes. It is so kind of you Nannie B.

  Ever yours affect.

  Elizabeth

  PS I’ve just finished another Pilch [knitted baby garment]!

  PS I shall send you some kodaks in a few days of the baby.

  20 October 1926 to Major R. H. Walsh*

  17 Bruton Street

  My dear Walshie

  Thank you so much for your letter. I am so glad that you were not bored at the tennis. I thought you simply must have been. I loathe it myself! Did you enjoy your leave? I was so sorry that we saw so little of you. Next year will be more normal I hope, though by next June I shall be old & worn & grey after our Australasian tour. You must prepare for a cynical & hardened old woman of the world by the time I’ve finished with the Aussies. […] I’ll bring my gramophone and my ‘275 [hunting rifle], & we’ll vary the Charleston with a little letting off at crocs & other four-legged animals.

  Forgive this awful writing, I’ve been pretty busy, and I’ve found such a good new cocktail. Not strong enough for you I’m afraid, but you must sample it next summer. And after all you can always have two. Or three. Or four.

  I saw Brock [Brocklehurst] in Scotland – he seemed in excellent form. A little prone to talking of death, but then one is used to that of course, & takes little notice.

  Did you fall in love this summer? Sorry, that’s very rude – forget it.

  It was nice of you to write, do so again soon please, & tell me local news. I love hearing, it reminds me of that wonderful time nearly two years ago now – how I’d love to go shooting Boooshbuck once again.

  Yours sincerely

  Elizabeth

  28 October 1926 to Lady Strathmore

  Sandringham

  Norfolk

  My Darling Mother

  Thank you a thousand times for your two last letters. I am so sorry that poor Father has got a cold, and I do hope he is better now. I wonder when you will be coming south? […]

  We leave here tomorrow, & return to B.[ruton] Street. I honestly don’t know what we would have done without it.

  The baby is very well, and now spends the whole day taking her shoes off & sucking her toes! She is going to be very wicked, and she is very quick I think.

  It is a million times better here than at York Cottage.* Plenty of room, and a much better atmosphere. […] I never had a moment to write in London – I was flying from Piccadilly to W. Lodge & back! Lord Lee is going to take it [White Lodge], so that’s all right.†

  The house is getting on slowly. I am going to spend my Marland Oil* (when it goes up) in doing several things to make it prettier. Two pilasters on either side of Bertie’s fireplace, proper pillars in the hall, a new overdoor in my bedroom, etc etc which are small things but I hope will improve the house. Luckily Mr Pa
rvin the head man of the decorators has got very good taste, & one can trust him not to do anything dreadful. Goodby darling, do come to Bruton St when you want, as your room is empty and also Father’s downstairs.

  Your very loving

  Elizabeth

  In January 1927 the Duke and Duchess set off on a long imperial tour focused on Australia and New Zealand. This had been agreed in the summer of 1926 and the Duchess had been dreading it because it meant that they would be parted from their daughter for at least six months.

  Their other concern, shared by the King and Stanley Bruce,† the Prime Minister of Australia, was whether the Duke’s stammer would prevent him delivering all the speeches that a formal tour required. Fortunately, help was at hand. In October 1926, encouraged by the Duchess, the Duke began consultations with Lionel Logue, the Australian speech therapist. Logue had an extraordinary gift and over the next few weeks his treatment, which involved breathing and other exercises, helped the Duke as nothing had before. The Duke wrote to thank him: ‘I am full of confidence for this trip now.’‡

  Diary: Thursday 6 January 1927

  Woke at 7.15. Up by 8.30. Feel very miserable at leaving the baby. Went up & played with her & she was so sweet. Luckily she doesn’t realize anything. [Dr] Still came for a minute, & I explained about the baby. Mother came in at 10 for a short time. I had on a grey lamb coat with fox collar & grey everything else. I drank some champagne & tried not to weep.

  Said goodbye to the baby & Alah downstairs, & left at 10.40. Large crowd, also near Victoria. Long leave taking & at last the special train left. David, Harry & George* came down to see us off. Huge crowds at Portsmouth, & the Renown† looked lovely. Lord Cavan‡ was on board. We left at 1.40, & soon got into bad weather!

  9 January 1927 to Queen Mary

  HMS Renown

  My Darling Mama

  We shall have an opportunity to post some letters tomorrow, so just a little line to tell you our sparse news.

  We have settled down very comfortably, and after a horrible night & day, the weather seems better – today was very pleasant and quite warm. We had a very nice Church this morning, but that has been our only diversion so far. […]

  The Captain is very nice, and they all take great trouble to make us happy. I felt very much leaving on Thursday, and the baby was so sweet playing with the buttons on Bertie’s uniform that it quite broke me up! David & George & Harry were all angelic, and cheered us up for a bit. […]

  With much love darling Mama, ever your very loving daughter in law

  Elizabeth

  9 January 1927 to Lady Strathmore

  HMS Renown

  My Darling Mother

  I believe a post goes tomorrow, so I thought I’d drop you a line, tho’ there is very little to say. We had one very rough day on Friday, and it got better yesterday and was really very pleasant and warm. This evening it is a little rougher, and we may not be able to land at Las Palmas tomorrow which I don’t mind as there is nothing to see there! We cannot get closer than 2 miles of the island, & as the Atlantic has a very big swell which doesn’t notice in a big ship, one cannot get a boat close enough to get into.

  We are very comfortable, and the food is excellent. Today was lovely with a warm sun.

  Tortor* is very nice, and I only see Joan Cavan at meals as she mostly stays down with poor Lord Cavan.†

  You will go and see the baby, won’t you darling, and when she is at BP, just ring Alah up, & either run in and see her (same door as we used Wed. night) or tell A to bring her to you. You will never see the King or Queen, as they never use that door & are quite separate. […]

  Well, au revoir darling, I will write again fairly soon, and give my love to Father and everybody.

  Your very very loving Elizabeth

  Diary: Tuesday 11 January 1927

  […] Just before dinner heard that Diamond* had died this morning. A blessed relief, but it seems so sad. She has suffered so much.

  Diary: Saturday 5 February 1927

  Woke very early, as we slept out. Not a breath of air. Read & talked to Bertie etc. Sat out & read & slept a little on the triple gun deck. After tea played some deck tennis. Felt depressed – I miss the baby all the time, & am always wondering what she is doing. After dinner four of the midshipmen came up & danced. Courtney very good Tango & Charleston. Bed 11.

  9 February 1927 to Queen Mary

  HMS Renown

  Nukuhiva, Marquesas Isles

  My Darling Mama

  We have spent a very pleasant two days here in this lovely Island, and quite regret leaving today. After nearly a fortnight at sea, it was delicious to be able to stretch our legs again. We went on expeditions and fished and bathed. It is very hot indeed and my cabin is 95 deg:, but the evenings are fairly cool which is a help.

  The natives danced for us last night, and it was really most remarkable, and very interesting. They are brown and the men quite nice-looking, but very diseased and are rapidly dying out. Instead of being strong healthy cannibals with strange religions and no clothes, they are now weakly half hearted Roman Catholics with European clothes. It seems all wrong, but that is what happens.

  We lead a very pleasant life in the ship – we dance sometimes after dinner on the quarter deck, and the officers are all good, and especially the midshipmen who dance quite beautifully. Tortor is being a great success and such a help – I only hope that she will stand N.Z. and Australia well.

  It is very difficult to write in this heat, so will you please forgive rather a stupid letter. There is so little as yet to tell you, as in all these five weeks we have only stopped at Las Palmas, Jamaica, Panama & Nukuhiva. Panama was very interesting indeed, and the Americans do run it in an amazingly efficient way. They really were very nice to us, and did not make themselves at all a nuisance. I don’t know what their Press said though, and that is far the worst part of them. We feel so terribly cut off from home, and have heard no news beyond the usual wireless Bulletin, which only mentions China and football results.

  I do hope that you like having the baby, and that she continues to be well and happy, and no colds. They do put a baby back so much, and I was always very particular that people with colds should not go near her. […] I miss her quite terribly and the five weeks we have been away seem like five months.

  I promised my father that she should go to him later on, and I thought that April would be a good time, and it will do her a great deal of good to be in the country for a bit, and especially when it gets warmer.

  I will write again a little later, and hope to have more to tell you.

  I do hope that you are well, and no horrid colds or influenza for you or Papa. With my very best love to you & Papa, I am darling Mama, your very loving daughter in law

  Elizabeth

  8 March 1927 to Queen Mary

  Government House

  Wellington

  New Zealand

  My Darling Mama

  We are just finishing our visit to Wellington, and this evening we return to the Renown for the night, starting tomorrow on the tour of South Island.

  The fortnight in the North Island seems to have been a success, though rather tiring and everybody has been very nice to us.

  The marvellous loyalty of the people of N.Z. is quite amazing, and any mention of ‘the King and Queen’, ‘the Mother Country’, ‘The Empire’ or ‘Home’ or any other expression brings out such very genuine and whole hearted cheers that it gives one quite a lump in the throat. The children are so well looked after here – so different to England, in that they come first in everything. They are taught to be loyal to the Crown before anything, and then they are taught to be well & healthy & clean. Everywhere that we have been, we have been intensely struck by the appearance of the children. Apparently the teachers are very good, and they have to take most stupendous oaths of loyalty to the Crown before they are allowed to teach. Considering that it is the Crown that keeps the Empire together, I think it is a pity they are not more par
ticular about teachers at home.

  Rotorua was most interesting. I expect we saw much the same things that you did in 1901. I must say I hated walking round the geysers, although I was so interested, thinking that every moment we would all disappear through a thin crust into the unknown!

  We both rather dread Australia, as politics there seem to govern everything, but I am sure it will be all right when we are once in the country.

  I do hope that you are enjoying the baby, and that she is not too advanced for her age. I miss her more and more, but am happy to think that she is being so well looked after.

  Yesterday I opened a Hospital for babies & mothers here, run by Sir Truby King,* who has done a most amazing work in lowering the death rate for babies. I hope that it will really spread in England, though of course his ideas will have to be adapted to suit conditions in England.

  I find that clothes are a great problem here, especially when we are joggled about for days in motor cars, and the luggage is always going ahead or following after!

  Already I long sometimes for a really quiet few days, and by the time we get home, we shall be pining for solitude.

  I must fly to a Garden Party.

  with very best love darling Mama

  Ever your loving daughter in law

  Elizabeth

  The Duchess had another attack of tonsillitis and remained in Auckland while the Duke went to South Island. She then rejoined the Renown, which went to pick him up on their way to Australia.

  Sunday 15 March 1927 to the Duke of York

  HMS Renown

  Wellington

  My Darling Sweet

  We have just arrived here, and I am feeling very lonely and wishing I was with you, and that I could help you a little bit. It is so much easier for two than one, and anyway when you tackle the Mayor, I can tackle the Mayoress!

  I think you are marvellous the way you keep it up, and so does everybody else. I only hope you won’t be too terribly ‘done in’, and that you will get three fine days going to Australia. It is much too short, and quite ridiculous to think that any human can do about eight weeks at a stretch.