The Governor of the Province arrived after lunch, & arranged a little sightseeing. Firstly we went to see a castle built in 1540, quite untouched, of delicious little pink bricks. It belongs to an old Baroness who is 70 years old today and we arrived with dozens of other guests all bearing flowers & clicking their heels. A birthday party! & such a deliciously old fashioned atmosphere of compliments and clicks, & tea handed in boiling hot rooms by Rectors of neighbouring Universities. I enjoyed it so much, and they all talked such good English.
Then we went to a town called Lund and looked at a Cathedral etc which was most exhausting.
I cannot think of more of a contrast than you in effete Portugal and me in more than efficient Sweden. So well educated & every cottage with electric light and telephone. We are going to Oslo for a wedding but our train, which started in such a businesslike way from Calais, every second being of importance, has now deteriorated into a kind of Oriental timeless affair, & I feel that we may be days before we reach our destination. We ought to be at a reception at the French Embassy there tonight. Instead of which we are sitting in a spotless room furnished with chairs of a hardness that I cannot describe. The other 3 members of our party are reading E. Wallace.* I am writing to you. […]
I am delighted to hear that you are coming home soon, & I hope also to get home, but I really don’t know whether we shall. I feel quite prepared to take weeks over the return journey. Are you an unperturbed traveller? I am always very calm and rather annoying, & I point out things I see out of the window, which is unforgivable.
We must dine soon, my pen rushes along these little lines leaving sad drivel for you to read I fear.
Yours ever,
Elizabeth
21 August 1929 to King George V
Birkhall
Ballater
My dearest Papa
It was so very kind of you to send me that letter by Harry, and I can’t tell you how delighted I was to receive it. I am sure that we are going to love being here,† in fact I already feel that I have lived here most of my life. The garden is too lovely, real masses of flowers, and the burn makes a lovely rushing noise, very soothing at night!
Bertie & I went down to Balmoral on Monday, and the garden is looking perfect. There are some very good beds of pansies outside the ballroom which are most effective. Everybody is so sad that you & Mama are not coming up this year,* in fact old Arthur Grant† was most emphatic that the air would really make you feel well again. But Imust admit that the air, though like wine, is very cold; and there has been no sun yet. In fact it is colder than I have ever had it when I stayed at Balmoral, but I expect that it will warm up soon. […]
It is so kind of you to let us come here Papa, and we are so happy in this heavenly place, and I only wish that you could be up in Scotland too.
But I am sure that the bracing air of Norfolk will soon make you feel better. It is too awful to think of the long & dreary time of illness that you have had, and I do hope that you will soon begin to feel really well again. […]
Yes, aren’t the Wee Frees‡ silly old things, we thought that it was such a holy little occupation for Sunday!! They are dwindling fast poor things.
With much love, dearest Papa, ever your
very loving daughter in law
Elizabeth
11November 1929 to Osbert Sitwell
145 Piccadilly
My dear Mr Sitwell,
Thank you so much for sending me your book. It is so kind of you to have thought of me, and I have enjoyed reading it more than I can say. I am appalled at the horrible end of Edgar Poe – this seems a trivial thing to mention, but I had no idea that his death was so sordid.§ Elections are so horrible, & bring the worst out in everybody, so perhaps it was an appropriate death. […]
I hope that we may meet again some time, perhaps in the house of your dedicatee* (if there is such a word). If not in her house, I hope that you will visit us here. I am longing to know whether you have
A)Arranged that the Foundling Hospital† become an 18th Century Museum
B)Managed to delay the erection of that menace to good health & good pictures in Battersea. That would indeed be good news, but I fear the worst.‡
With again so many thanks.
I am, yours very sincerely,
Elizabeth R
17 November 1929 to D’Arcy Osborne
145 Piccadilly
My dear Mr Osborne,
I have started so many letters to you since August, & each one has died a horrid death by fire or hatred. The reason is this. August and September were so wonderful in Scotland, that one rose eagerly at 8 am and came home at sundown, weary and terribly contented, and letters were almost impossible to write. The sun blazed all day (a Scottish blaze, not your Portuguese haze) and I felt so well at the end of the Autumn that I kept on saying to myself, ‘My goodness, how well I feel.’
But I have often thought about you, & wondered whether you will be coming home for leave soon. We shall be delighted to see you when you do come and there will be a great deal to talk about, what with one thing and another. It is very foggy, and dark and cold here now, and I am just going off to Naseby* for a few days in the Midlands. […]
Let me see, what news is there.
The Queen of Spain† is here and luncheon parties and dinner parties are given for her by all the snobs in London. And she is so extremely nice too, and very brave.
Have you read A High Wind in Jamaica and do you like it? Also The Man Within; the latter irritated me very much at moments.‡
The Labour government is spending a lot of money. I have spent too much money.
Thank you so much for your latest letter. I feel very ashamed of my long silence, and fear that this letter will really hardly be worth receiving. I have been doing a lot of stunting lately, but am going to have a blank week now – it is really very boring at times. One wonders how much good it all does. I think that half the good of a long slaving day in Birmingham or Manchester is undone by a few paragraphs in the Daily Sketch or Mirror describing my very frequent new dresses and my alterations to this house. Already this year I have done up my sitting room five times, and the number of dresses trimmed with diamonds would keep ten families going for ten years. It is very annoying isn’t it? However, we must take the rough with the smooth & keep the old flag flying. Hooray.
With kindly & Christian thoughts to ALL, I remain yours sincerely, if a trifle sourly, Elizabeth
In December 1929 the Duchess realized she was expecting another baby.
31 December 1929 to Mrs Beevers
St Paul’s Walden Bury
Dearest Nannie B
I am writing to ask whether you can come to me in August! […] I do hope that you are not engaged, because then it would be too dreadful. Also Simson* said perhaps it would be better to be ready at the end of July in case.
I have not told a soul yet, because people find out all too soon, and that makes life miserable, so would you please keep it quiet too, as long as you can? I hope to keep it a secret for a good bit yet.
Now, if you are engaged in August, you must ruthlessly chuck the poor woman. No, I don’t really mean that, but I do hope that you will be free, as I couldn’t bear it if you could not come to me. I do hope that you are well, and that the Weymouth baby† is better. You must have had a terrible time.
With much love
Elizabeth
I shall be back in London on Friday.
11February 1930 to Queen Mary
Naseby Hall Northampton
My Darling Mama
Thank you so very much for your most kind and sympathetic letter. It has been a great blow to us all, as Jock was a very dear brother,‡ and we shall miss him so much. He was so clever, and wise too, and one could always depend on the very best of advice if one ever wanted it.
He had been very ill with pneumonia, and on the Wednesday before he died was really much better, & the doctors were very pleased. Then suddenly came another abscess o
n the lung, and he died on Friday morning, as by then he was too weak to operate. Nobody expected such a thing, and I can hardly believe that it has really happened.
Your letter was so understanding and comforting darling Mama, and I thank you with Papa and yourself from my heart for your sympathy.
With much love,
Always your loving daughter in law
Elizabeth
PS I have just returned here from St Paul’s Walden where I went for the funeral.
11 March 1930 to D’Arcy Osborne
Naseby Hall
Dear Mr Osborne,
I was so pleased to receive your letter this morning, especially as you can have no idea how deeply depressing every aspect of life has been here, for months, and your letter was so deliciously and refreshingly cheerful.
I am delighted that you are so happy in Rome, and you certainly deserve to be, after your exile in Lisbon.* It all sounds quite perfect, I am sure that one must be surrounded with Beauty to be really happy, and you seem to be wallowing in it (if one may use such an unsuitable expression). I am glad to hear that you have escaped a wild Marchesa up till now, but in your present state of mind I much fear that shortly I shall hear rumours of an ENTANGLEMENT.
This morning I had two letters of interest. One from yourself, and one from Mr Thornton Wilder* sending me his last book ‘The Woman of Andros’. In his letter he writes, ‘This one was to have been, alas, a book in praise of Christianity. It was to have shown the frustration of some finer pagan minds, and their wistfulness, as they groped by intuition towards the handful of maxims that was soon to modify home-life, education, the theory of the state, and most of all, man’s courage in regard to himself,’ and several more pages.
How can one answer letters like that? I love authors sending one their books, but how difficult to thank them. Please never write a book. What can one say? Dear Mr Wilder, Thank you so much for your most delightful book. How interesting the story of the frustration of those pagan minds and their wistfulness as they groped by intuition towards the handful of maxims etc etc –
Do you not dislike intensely the word wistful? I do. At least, I have never thought about it before, but having written it twice on this page, I now loathe it with a great loathing.
I think that next year we must come to Rome incognito, and enjoy ourselves. I am sure that it must be very bad to stay too long in this country, and think only of Lord Beaverbrook,† and parrot disease, and debts (one’s own) and the kitchenmaids going, and whether one should offer up a prayer for the Boiled Bishops of Russia.
I hope that you will get your apartment on the top of a palazzo. It sounds perfect in every way – in fact most delectable.
The toffee that you kindly sent Elizabeth is very much appreciated, and the second tin is now being eaten. It was very nice of you to remember, tho’ I fear that there was not much chance of your forgetting after such a very pointed question!
Yes it was terrible about Jock, and I can’t tell you how much we all miss him in the family. Though sometimes he was sarcastic & a little difficult to please, he was intensely affectionate, and a really good friend. If I needed good advice, I always asked Jock, because though it might not be as palatable as one could wish, it was always right. He had a very strong sense of duty you remember & very high ideals, so advice from him was difficult to take but right.
I don’t really think that he ever contemplated dying at all, and am certain that if he had, he would have gone to St Paul’s Walden where he wished to be buried, and I think that as usual the doctors were much too late in finding out that he had pneumonia, and then could do nothing. Poor Fenella was absolutely broken up, you know she nursed him for nearly two months at Glamis, and that brings people very close together. I am sure that none of the male parts of my family ought to live in London. They all adore the soil, and Jock was really only happy in the country. It kills people in the end if they are parted from the land. It’s too strong a thing to understand. But one cannot regret for him anyway, and I for one, have got a lot of delightful things to remember about him, which is lucky.
I must not ramble on any longer this is already a most disconnected letter.
The hunting is nearly over, and we return to London in April. I hope that you will continue to be happy & contented in Rome.
With much wistfulness,
Ever yours sincerely,
Elizabeth
14 April 1930 to Queen Mary
145 Piccadilly
My Darling Mama
We are so looking forward to coming to Windsor on Thursday, and we will arrive in time for tea, and bringing Lilibet with us.
I do hope that you will forgive my clothes, which I fear are not at all suitable to Windsor, but dressing properly in the evening is becoming difficult, and so please forgive any great shortcomings!
I have had to cancel three old engagements in May & June, so have had to say that I am not doing any more things this summer, which will come out in the papers I suppose. It is a bore, but there was no way out of it, and we thought that the simplest way was to make this short announcement. My instinct is to hide away in a corner when in this condition, which I know is silly, but I suppose it is a feeling handed down from many generations back. I should really like to live quietly in the country for the last few months, and then reappear afterwards as if nothing had happened! […]
With much love darling Mama,
Ever your loving daughter in law
Elizabeth
Thursday undated [June 1930] to Lady Helen Graham
St Paul’s Walden
My dearest Nellie,
There is nothing to return to London for, and I strongly advise you to stay away as long as possible! It is too lovely here, and the sun is really hot, & one can be out all day long.
I used to take such joys for granted not so very long ago, but I suppose the approach of middle age makes one appreciate weather much more, and I do love sitting out in the sun. The smells in the evening are marvellous. Last night it was honeysuckle & very sweet new mown hay – it went to my head and made me feel slightly intoxicated. […]
Yours affec, E
31 July 1930 to Queen Mary
Glamis Castle
My Darling Mama
I am so delighted to have the miniature of Bertie, and I thank you a thousand times for sending it. I have so few relics of his childhood, and so am very pleased to have this charming miniature.
I do hope that you are not having horrible weather at Cowes, though it sounds as if all the South of England is windy & wet. Here it has rained a great deal the last week or so, after several months of complete dryness.
The last three weeks seem to have lasted for three months at least, and I am longing for the whole business to be over – the waiting gets on one’s nerves rather, & I find myself becoming slightly irritable I fear! Sir Henry Simson is hovering anxiously about, and the more he hovers the slower it all seems! The next time, I shall make every effort to have a child in London during the winter, as it is much more agreeable for both of us I think, as when one is in the country one misses all the lovely flowers and cadeaux for the baby, & little excitements like that!!
I must thank you once more darling Mama for sending me the miniature – I really am so enchanted to have it.
With all my love to Papa & to yourself,
I am, always your loving daughter in law
Elizabeth
5 August 1930 to Queen Mary
Glamis Castle
My Darling Mama,
I cannot tell you how enchanted I am with the lovely little clock which arrived on my birthday. It is exactly what I love, and it fits so beautifully with my gilt dressing table things. Thank you so very very much. I am so pleased to have it, and it was so kind of you to send me yet another present.
I am so sorry to hear that you have had such stormy weather, and I do hope that by now it has improved, as it makes everything so miserable.
Mr Clynes* has arrived today to st
ay with kind Lady Airlie who is having him to stay. There are two doctors here, and why they are all so very previous I don’t know, as I certainly do not expect anything to happen before the 10th. I suppose that I shall be given all sorts of horrid drinks, so as not to keep these foolish people waiting. I wish that Mr Clynes had waited until he was sent for, but he would not do that, and here they all are waiting & hovering like vultures! I shall be glad when they are gone.
The little clock is such a joy, and I do think that it was kind of you darling Mama –
With much love, ever your loving daughter in law
Elizabeth
The Duchess’s second daughter, Princess Margaret Rose, was born at Glamis on 21 August 1930.
27 August 1930 to Queen Mary
Glamis Castle
My Darling Mama
Thank you so very much for the two sweet little boxes, and for your most angelic letter of congratulation. I adore the boxes, and hope that I shall be ordered a pill to take after meals, and I shall keep it in the smallest box & flaunt it about! It was kind of you to think of my love of cadeaux, and I never expected to get any up here. I am feeling so much better than last time, and I expect that a recovery in the good Scotch air will be much more pleasant than one in London. The baby is nice & round & neat I am glad to say. I do hope you will be pleased with her. I am very anxious to call her Ann Margaret, as I think that Ann of York sounds pretty, & Elizabeth & Ann go so well together. I wonder what you think? Lots of people have suggested Margaret, but it has no family links really on either side, & besides she will always be getting mixed up with Margaret the nurserymaid.
It was such a wonderful surprise seeing Bertie yesterday, because I was missing him terribly. I am so glad though that he is having a change with you for a bit, as it is always a very trying time for husbands, and he will be all the better for his visit to Balmoral I am sure.
Counting One's Blessings Page 18
