Ever your affect.
E
21 December 1942 to Sir Kenneth Clark
Buckingham Palace
My dear Sir Kenneth,
Thank you very much for your letter, the information it contained interested me enormously. I am hoping very much to see the exhibition of French pictures, possibly next Thursday if I can manage it.
I was asked to open the R.I.B.A Exhibition, but had to decline, as I do not want to start ‘formal’ openings until the Germans are really beaten, I shall absolutely come & visit it, I am sure it will be fascinating.
The new ballet sounds thrilling and I imagine that Mr Piper’s‡ art would be supremely suited to the ballet – I hope that Mr Walton’s music will be ‘dancey’ – he is such a good composer.*
Yes, I will be delighted to lend a Piper for Sweden. I would like to know which one you consider suitable, as there are one or two almost too ‘Macbeth’ for perfection. I am very anxious to see the new series – on a lovely spring day Windsor can look almost smiling! I do hope that I shall see them soon.
It was most kind of you to let me know all this good news of the arts. It is nice to know that during this most terrible of wars the arts have risen above incredible difficulties; & have brought hope, & relaxation & beauty to many millions of people. We have to thank you for magnificent leadership in this connection – we are very grateful.
With my best wishes to you & Lady Clark for a happy Xmas, & a happier New Year,
I am, Yours sincerely,
Elizabeth R
3 January 1943 to Osbert Sitwell
Appleton
My dear Mr Sitwell,
Thank you very much for your two nice and interesting letters. First of all, don’t you think that ‘1943’ is much easier and more pleasant to write than ‘1942’? Anyway, I trust that it will be as happy a year as possible for you. The only thing is that the United Nations† are beginning to give me that groaning feeling if you know what I mean. After Dunkirk and during & after the battle of Britain one had an arm-stretching sensation of freedom and independence, and tho’ much that happened was horrible & terrifying beyond words, yet there was magnificence as well. Now I am conscious of a closing in of too many countries with all their jealousies, bitternesses & unintelligent criticisms, and yet this must be a wrong feeling, for it is so very important to keep together & work together to win the peace.
But what I am really writing to you about is the poetry reading.* It sounds very exciting and delightful, and I do hope that I shall be able to come to it, and bring my eldest daughter. I might also bring Margaret, for I believe that she would enjoy it madly, but I will leave that until later to decide.
What a wonderful list of English poets you have collected – and even if a few fall out, it will still be a marvellous gathering. What about the Poet Laureate?† Don’t you think he ought to come & read a verse or two of welcome to me, written of course especially for the occasion! […]
I am sure that this year is going to be a difficult one because everyone is expecting so much. I am always a little alarmed when a sense of optimism sweeps the country tho’ I have infinite trust in the level heads of the Britons who live in these Islands. […]
I have just started reading another book, ‘The Fall of Paris’ by a Russian.‡ The blood of workmen is running in the streets, but it may become less biased and [more] enjoyable soon. Have you read it?
I do hope that your autobiography is going ahead well, and that you are not too cold to work. I did so greatly enjoy the first part.
With my best wishes for this New Year,
I am, yours very sincerely,
Elizabeth R
25 January 1943 to the Right Rev. Edward Woods, Bishop of Lichfield*
My dear Bishop,
I am so delighted with the book about Elizabeth Fry,† and send you my most grateful thanks for such a charming and interesting account of a great woman. She was such a sympathetic character, and I am enjoying the book quite enormously.
I am enchanted always by your choice of books, and do deeply appreciate your kindness in sending me such good reading matter. Please, please continue to do so, and I look forward with delight to any future recommendations on your part. The children simply loved the little booklet about Elizabeth Fry: she appeals very much to the young.
With all my thanks,
Ever yours sincerely
Elizabeth R
14 February 1943 to David Bowes Lyon
Buckingham Palace
My Darling David,
[…] I have […] been thinking of Glamis & how lovely it is on a June day, & how delicious in early October with the rather yellow light on the stubble. And I can even see Mother coming over Earl John’s bridge in those short sharp rushes which looked so odd until one realised that she was being butted lovingly along by an enormous sheep! The longer the war goes on, & the more horrible everything gets, the more often do I think of the old days & how happy we were. We really were lucky, because we laughed a great deal, and lived in such lovely places & liked the country best. I do think that it is high time that you came home for a freshener. I am sure your work must be very hard & difficult, and everyone says that you are doing it so well. I am sure sometimes you must need all your self-control & tact too, which is very exhausting. A few weeks of hard headed, sensible, experienced old London would be a rest. Do try & nip over darling, I am longing to see you again.
The more Americans I see, the more I like them, & the more I realise how extremely ignorant they are of the ways of the world. […] I mean by ‘the world’ the bigger things of being able to judge others correctly, & not be too politically innocent, & more balance when things are either good nor bad. […] They seem to have got the essential things like love of family & freedom of religion & thought, and all they need is a little political experience. I take a motherly interest in them, because I like them. I hope it is all right writing like this, but I know you won’t quote me.
People seem to be working hard as ever here – some of the by-elections are a bit odd. I suppose they usually are. […] it is easy for an independent candidate to promise the electors the earth, abuse the Government about pensions & soldiers’ wives’ pay, laud poor Winston to the skies, and stab him in the back by getting elected! I do wonder what sort of a House of Commons we shall have after the war. […]
Well darling I must stop. We are having more air raids again – they are dropping bombs just anywhere. They hit a big school last week & killed a lot of children in Lewisham. I went to see the worst hurt ones in hospital this week, & gave them some bananas that Dicky brought the children from Casablanca. It made me all the more determined to beat those unspeakable Huns, to see those little faces, so good and so hurt for the sake of Nazi propaganda. I grind my teeth with rage. But it happens every day – pure murder.
My best love to Rachel, I am hoping to write to her very soon.
Your very loving
Elizabeth
PS I do hope the children are well – it must be blissful to be together again.
19 February 1943 to Queen Mary
Windsor Castle
My Darling Mama
At last the photographs of Lilibet & Margaret have arrived, and I am at once sending a copy of the one you wanted. I do hope that it is the right one. They are not very well printed, but that is wartime paper restrictions I believe. I am also enclosing one of Bertie which I rather like, in case you would like to have it, and one of Lilibet wearing the Grenadier badge and pretty brooch given to her by the officers of the regiment.
It seems such ages since Lilibet & I came down to pay you that little visit. I do hope that you’re well, and have had no more painful accidents when tree-felling. […]
The Americans don’t seem to have handled the North African political situation very well, do they? […] I do wish that they would let us do more there, for at least we have great experience (as a country) in political matters, and it is no use letting the ex-Vichy French get
the upper hand. I don’t see how poor Eisenhower can deal with a very difficult military situation, and an impossible political one as well – it didn’t work in Egypt did it, we had to send Oliver Lyttelton* out as adviser. I do hope that the Americans will send a good man to N. Africa. The only drawback is: have they got one! They are so very nice, & do make such awful mistakes! […]
I wonder what will happen if Gandhi† dies? What an old blackmailer he is, practically committing murder to gain his own ends, it is all very dreadful […]
I am so glad the Government were firm about the Beveridge report* last week. For however much one wants to help people to a more secure feeling in the future, how can one contemplate social security unless we have world security first. And even when the war is won, which please God we shall do in time, I wonder whether we shall be able to pay for such luxuries for our people. It is much better not to promise things that may be impossible to bring to pass. Do forgive me for inflicting such a long letter on you, so full of my own dull opinions.
Very best love darling Mama, ever your loving daughter in law
Elizabeth
5 March 1943 to Osbert Sitwell
Buckingham Palace
My dear Mr Sitwell,
Thank you so much for letting me know the date and place of the Poetry Reading. I shall look forward to it immensely. […]
I want to thank you very gratefully for telling me of ‘The Gobi Desert’.† I was enthralled and soothed and given hope in an extraordinary way by the book.
I think that the quality which shines through it is love. The kind of love of humanity that Christ had. If only there was more of it in this poor suffering bewildered world. I was deeply impressed by the book and some parts of it can be read over & over again.
There is an absorbing little book called ‘Education for a World Adrift’ by Sir Richard Livingstone‡ of Oxford. I wonder whether it would interest you at all? It does seem so important that we should improve the education of our people before other grand plans come into being.
I am, Yours very sincerely
Elizabeth R
19 March 1943 to Sir Alexander Hardinge
Buckingham Palace
My dear Alec,
I think that Sunday April 11th would be the best date to choose for my talk to the women of the Empire.* I cannot be sure that I can do it on that date, but will try very hard to be ready by then.
It is a very difficult proposition, as one would like to congratulate women on the way they are tackling men’s jobs, & yet they must be ready to stand down (& by) after the war.
I do hope that the King’s visit to the Fleet will be properly handled by the press.† I do not hope for much, but must admit that I am not very happy about it; & not counting Canadians & Americans even a few English people are beginning to feel a little uneasy at the way any news of the King’s activities are usually either ignored altogether or placed in the ‘snippets’ columns of the so-called ‘national’ press. Please don’t say anything about this matter to me on paper as I am worried about it, and would prefer to talk to you some time on this extremely difficult and extremely important and irritating subject. ER
21 March 1943 to King George VI
Buckingham Palace
My Darling Angel
I do hope that you are not too tired after your long journey, and that all went well. I am longing to see you, & hope you will ring me on arrival at B.P. I do hope you won’t be too bored, but I am afraid that your ceiling has fallen down in the Regency Room, and therefore, when you get back today, you will find your writing table in the ‘44 Room.
I am only so thankful that it happened today, & not tomorrow, & I am sure that all that side of the house must be very ‘disgruntled’ by that heavy first bomb.
Best love darling
E
1 April 1943 to Lady Helen Graham
Buckingham Palace
My dearest Nellie,
I am deeply grateful to you for saying that you will look over these drafts, & give your advice.*
I have tried many alternatives myself, & am rather flummoxed! I would so like to bring in something about the great responsibility of being free. People seem to take freedom for granted, and yet it rests on the individual completely.
Also the importance of giving. It’s no use planning for better things if it’s all ‘take’ – we must all give too.
So many of the ideas people (especially women) send to papers etc are all things they think they want – never a word of how to live together as a brotherhood!
Much love and so many thanks again.
Yours ER
6 April 1943 to Winston Churchill
Buckingham Palace
My dear Mr Churchill
I am deeply grateful to you for saying that you will look over the enclosed very rough draft of my broadcast. I send it to you in the knowledge that it is not very good, but I am sure that you will be ruthless with the extra bad bits, & cut them out firmly!
We are just off to the North East of England.
I am, Yours very sincerely,
Elizabeth R
11 April 1943 to Sir Alan Lascelles*
Buckingham Palace
My dear Tommy
Thank you so very much for your kind note. If the broadcast I made this evening had any message, it was thanks to your cooperation & help.† I am quite sure that I could not make one without you, for you understand what I feel about things, and I am truly grateful to you. What agony these things are! It’s funny, but when I talk into those dumb-looking little microphones, I think of the grey & narrow streets of places like South Shields or Sunderland. If one can help those gallant people, everything is worth while.
Yours in gratitude
ER
11 April 1943 The Queen’s radio broadcast to the women of the Empire
I would like, first of all, to tell you just why I am speaking to you tonight – to you, my fellow-countrywomen all over the world. It is not because any special occasion calls for it; it is not because I have any special message to give you. It is because there is something that, deep in my heart, I know ought to be told you; and probably I, in the position to which I have been called, am the best person to do it.
Most of us, at one time or another in our lives, have read some fine book that has given us courage and strength, and fresh hope; and, when we lay it down, we have wished that, though we are strangers to him, we could meet the author and tell him how much we admire his work, and how grateful we are for it.
Something of the same kind I should like to say to you. For you – though you may not realise it – have done work as great as any book that ever was written; you too, in these years of tragedy and glory, of crushing sorrow and splendid achievement, have earned the gratitude and admiration of all mankind; and I am sure that every man, who is doing his man’s share in the grim task of winning this war, would agree that it is high time that someone told you so.
Some of you may feel that I am exaggerating your own share in that task. ‘What have I done?’, you may ask, ‘compared to what my boy has to put up with, dodging submarines in the Atlantic or chasing Rommel across Africa.’ In your different spheres, believe me, you have done all that he has done, and in different degrees endured all that he has endured. For you, like him, have given all that is good in you, regardless of yourself, to the same cause for which he is fighting – our cause, the cause of Right against Wrong; and nobody, man or woman, can give more.
There is no need, surely, for me to say in detail how you have done this. Perhaps, constantly travelling, as the King and I do, through the length and breadth of these Islands, I am fortunate in being able to see a clear picture of the astonishing work that women are doing everywhere, and of the quiet heroism with which, day in day out, they are doing it. This picture, I know, is being reproduced in many similar aspects all over the Empire, from the largest self-governing Dominion to the smallest Island owing allegiance to the Crown. We are indeed very proud of you.<
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How often, when I have talked with women engaged on every kind of job, sometimes a physically hard or dangerous one – how often, when I admired their pluck, have I heard them say ‘Oh, well, it’s not much. I’m just doing my best to help us win the war.’ Their courage is reinforced, too, by one of the strongest weapons in our national armoury – a sense of humour that nothing can daunt.
With this weapon of amazing temper, that turns every way, our people keep guard over their sanity and their souls. I have seen that weapon in action many, many times in the last few years – and how much it can help in the really bad times.
‘Work’ is a word that covers a very wide field. It is hard to define in a single phrase, but if you take it as meaning doing something useful that helps others, then you will see that your work, whatever it may be, is just as valuable, just as much ‘war-work’ as that which is done by the bravest soldier, sailor or airman who actually meets the enemy in battle.
And have you not met that enemy too? You have endured his bombs; you have helped to put out the fires that he has kindled in our homes; you have tended those he has maimed; brought strength to those he has bereaved; you have tilled our land; you have, in uniform or out of it, given help to our fighting forces, and made for them those munitions without which they would be powerless; in a hundred ways you have filled the places of the men who have gone away to fight; and, coping uncomplainingly with all the tedious difficulties of war-time – you, the housewives, many doing whole-time, and many part-time, jobs – you have kept their homes for them against the blessed day when they come back.
Many there are whose homes have been shattered by the fire of the enemy. The dwellings can be rebuilt, but nothing can restore the family circle if a dear one has gone forever from it. A firm faith in reunion beyond this world of space and time, and a fortitude born of the resolve to do one’s duty and carry on to the end, are true consolations. I pray they may not be denied to all who have suffered and mourn.
Counting One's Blessings Page 36
