Counting One's Blessings

Home > Other > Counting One's Blessings > Page 28
Counting One's Blessings Page 28

by William Shawcross


  Hope to see you soon – Goodbye darling from your very loving Mummy

  5 January 1938 to D’Arcy Osborne

  My dear D’Arcy,

  I have so many things to thank you for, that I think I shall start at the latest & work back. First, that heavenly K*A*P*L*A*N.† He arrived at the end of the first day of an attack of influenza, just when one felt that [one] could not look at a book, and after reading with tremendous enjoyment a few chapters, I slept well, & woke the next morning feeling vastly better. I put this miraculous cure down purely to Hermy [sic], and to your kindness in sending him to me. Thank you a thousand times. […]

  Thank you also, for sending me something so rare & so helpful.

  And more thanks! For being such a wonderful friend. Your support and sympathetic understanding is appreciated more than I can ever say. During this last year the fact that you believed in us was a real encouragement, and I shall always be grateful for such a loyal friend.

  As I told you before, you are one of the very few people in the world to whom I can talk intimately, and that is a great relief (to me). Especially nowadays, when I have already learnt that the people that one can trust implicitly are to be counted on the fingers of one hand.

  I so much enjoyed our talks, & I was delighted to hear that you were impressed by a sense of vitality in this country. What people need is courage.

  The only thing that worries me a little, is that now young people have rather given up religion in any form, they look more & more to individual leadership, or rather leadership by an individual, and that is going to be very difficult to find. It is almost impossible for the King to be that sort of leader.

  For many years there was a Prince of Wales, who did all the wise & silly & new things that kept people amused & interested, & yet, because he did not, or would not realize that they did not want that sort of thing from their King – well he had to go.

  It seems impossible to mix King and ordinary vulgar leadership – so what can we do? We don’t want Mosleys,* perhaps something will turn up. In the old days Religion must have given the people a great sense of security & right, and now there seems to be a vague sense of fear. Or am I sensing something that isn’t there at all. Perhaps it is me.

  How beautiful your Cardinals must have looked in your green room – I am sure that your parties are exquisitely arranged, & great fun for everybody as well as yourself.

  What a sadness that things aren’t going any better in this troubled world. I listened to Mr Roosevelt’s speech, & thought it rather boring. Rather the stuff we used to hear from old Ramsay, Snowden, Thomas* etc in the long ago. Higher-wages-let-people-buy-more+therefore-it-benefits-the-whole-community & so on.

  However, he did say that democracies must stand together, tho’ it’s a bit vague.

  We had rather an exhausting Xmas with the whole family here, however, they all got on with each other quite well, & nobody cried!

  A very happy New Year to you D’Arcy & thank you with all my heart for your charming letters.

  Elizabeth R

  15 January 1938 to Duke of Windsor

  Sandringham

  Darling David,

  When I received your little note this morning,† I rushed to my writing table, and after hunting about amongst the letters on it, I found the lost letter. I am furious and disappointed, because I left it addressed & ready to post, and have no idea what can have happened. I was getting worried as to the safe arrival of the knives, & you must have thought it very odd. I am glad you wrote about it, and I am delighted that you are pleased with the knives & forks. I enclose my little Xmas letter, but feel sad that it did not arrive at the right time – please read it now.

  We have been here 3 weeks & the sun has not shone once – it is rather depressing. I hope that you had some warmth on the Riviera.

  With love,

  Yours

  Elizabeth

  Enclosed

  Sandringham, 23 Dec 1937.

  Darling David

  I am sending you out by air-mail a small Xmas gift which I do hope you will both be able to use sometimes. You may have got hundreds of dessert knives & forks, but as these are old ones, perhaps they might appeal to you, who like old things. I found them at our old friend Rochelle Thomas.

  Anyway, they take best wishes for Xmas & the New Year, of health & happiness to both of you.

  With love,

  Yours

  Elizabeth

  19 March 1938 to Sir Kenneth Clark

  The Royal Lodge

  My dear Sir Kenneth,

  Thank you so much for your letter telling me that you have bought the two pictures* on my behalf. I am really glad to buy them, for apart from the fact that I am anxious to start a small collection of good modern pictures, I became extremely attached to the two in question during the ten days that I spent in their company!

  Please accept my very grateful thanks for the way in which you ‘conducted the negotiations’.

  I am pleased to learn that you think it may be of some small encouragement to living artists, to know that I intend to buy good modern pictures. It gives me pleasure to hear this from you, as I feel it so important that the finer sides of life should be given a chance, in these hurrying, ignorant, vulgar days that we live in.

  I have no objection at all to a statement in the Press; may I see what you propose to say before it goes in?

  Also would you kindly arrange for the bills to be sent to me direct?

  With my thanks,

  I am, Yours very sincerely,

  Elizabeth R

  23 June 1938 to the Most Rev. Cosmo Lang, Archbishop of Canterbury

  Buckingham Palace

  My dear Archbishop

  I write to ask you a favour – on Monday next the 27th June there will be a Memorial Service for my mother in London at the same time as the funeral at Glamis, to which I am going and if it is at all possible would you say a few of your lovely words about her?

  If you are engaged (which I feel you may be) we shall not ask anyone else, but I write to you at once, as there is nobody else whom we would wish to ask, but yourself. I shall quite understand if it [is] impossible for you to arrange it.

  We are all feeling very unhappy – my mother was so much the pivot of the family, so vital and so loving and so marvellously loyal to those she loved, or the things she thought right – an Angel of goodness & fun.

  Please forgive me for trying to add yet another burden to the very many that you shoulder, & believe that I shall so understand if you cannot do Monday.

  I am,

  Yours affec:

  Elizabeth R

  Cecilia Strathmore died on 23 June 1938. The Strathmore family gathered at Glamis and Lady Strathmore’s funeral took place on 27 June. A simultaneous memorial service took place at the church of St Martin-in-the-Fields, the parish church for Buckingham Palace; the Archbishop of Canterbury said in his address: ‘She raised a Queen in her own home, simply, by trust and love, and as a return the Queen has won widespread love.’

  30 June 1938 to Arthur Penn

  Birkhall

  My dear Arthur,

  I want to thank you, really and truly from my heart, for all your wonderful help and support during this last week. I don’t know what we would have done without you, and I do not know whether you were amused or pleased by the way that the Lyon family turned as one to you, to solicit your help over such an intimate thing as the Memorial Service. That is what comes of being a loved old friend, and you did your part nobly.

  I shall always be deeply grateful to you for your wonderful help and marvellously understanding sympathy. It is a curious thing, but I have always been terrified of my mother dying, ever since I was a little child, and now that it has come it seems almost impossible to believe.

  But she has left so much behind her, and her influence will be strong with us, her children, all our lives. At Glamis this week we congregated in her sitting room & found comfort even in that.

  Her perspect
ive of life was so wonderful, each event was given its true importance, and that is a rare gift.

  I was thinking today of how incredulous, slightly amused and so touched she would have been if she could have heard some of the appreciative things that her friends have said of her this last week.

  She was modest to a fault, very proud & sensitive, and her judgement was never at fault. She had an uncanny instinct about human beings (whether they were nice or nasty) & has always proved right – Her taste too was so good and original, & if she had had more money to spend, would have left us many beautiful things in house and garden.

  Now Arthur, I am writing too much about her, but I know you won’t mind.

  I have climbed one or two mountains, & spent my days amongst them, and feel very soothed – they are so nice & big & everlasting & such a lovely colour.

  I am your grateful friend

  Elizabeth R

  2 July 1938 to Neville Chamberlain

  Buckingham Palace

  My dear Mr Chamberlain,

  I write to send you my heartfelt thanks for your kind and sympathetic letter of condolence on the death of my mother. I was deeply touched by what you said, and thought it so wonderfully kind of you to write as you did, so understanding & so calm, when you were being harried in such a debate that evening. […]

  She had such a good perspective of life – everything was given its true importance. She had a young spirit, great courage & unending sympathy whenever or wherever it was needed, & such a heavenly sense of humour.

  We all used to laugh together & have such fun. You must forgive me for writing to you like this, but you have been such a kind friend & counsellor to us during the last year, that I address you in the most friendly & grateful spirit. I was so sorry that we had to postpone the visit to Paris,* but as it was all Galas and Banquets and garden parties, it would have seemed rather a mockery to take part so soon, and the French have been very good about it, do you not think so?

  With all my thanks,

  I am, dear Mr Chamberlain,

  Yours sincerely,

  Elizabeth R

  In September 1938 the Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, made several flights to Germany to try to make a settlement with Hitler. The Munich Agreement of September 1938 allowed Hitler to dismember Czechoslovakia and expressed the desire that Germany and Britain never go to war again. Chamberlain declared that this brought ‘peace for our time’. Widespread euphoria greeted his announcement. The King and Queen welcomed Chamberlain home from Munich by appearing with him on the balcony of Buckingham Palace.*

  Friday 30 September 1938 to Anne Chamberlain

  Buckingham Palace

  My dear Mrs Chamberlain

  I have been thinking so much of you during these last agonising weeks, knowing & understanding something of what you must be going through. It is so hard to wait, & when it is on the shoulders of your husband that such tremendous responsibilities rest, then it is doubly hard. But you must feel so proud & glad that through sheer courage & great wisdom he has been able to achieve so much for us & for the World. Our gratitude is beyond words, & I can assure you that our prayers that he might be sustained & helped through these frightful days have been very real.

  We have also felt most deeply for you, and do trust that the Prime Minister & yourself will be allowed some real Peace, & soon.

  I am, dear Mrs Chamberlain, yours very sincerely,

  Elizabeth R

  11 October 1938 to Osbert Sitwell

  Balmoral Castle

  My dear Mr Sitwell,

  It was so kind of you to write me such a kind and sympathetic letter during those terrible days that are passed. It was all such a nightmare of horror & worry that I feel years older. But one good thing is the fact that it was possible for sanity and Right to prevail at such a moment, and another, the marvellous way that the people of the country played up. They did not know very much of what was going on, and their courage & balance was (as usual) wonderful. Do you not think so? I shall hope to see you when you return to London – there is so much to talk about, and so few people with whom I can talk and keep my temper! Perhaps this will pass, I hope so with all my heart, for it is extremely boring both for myself and for my companions. […]

  I am, Yours very sincerely,

  Elizabeth R

  […]

  13 December 1938 to Sir Kenneth Clark

  Buckingham Palace

  My dear Sir Kenneth

  Thank you so much for your charming letter. I was indeed touched by what you said in it, and can only repeat that we too, feel a deep regret that the heavy work of running the National Gallery, makes you feel that you must give up looking after our pictures.

  It is so important that the monarchy should be kept in touch with the trend & life of modern, as well as ancient Art, and I hope that you will advise & help us along those lines?

  Also, I do hope that you do not feel that you must give up immediately. Apart from the fact that we do not want to lose you, it would be a great help to find first of all a successor – and selfishly perhaps, I would like to have someone who is agreeable, & whom I can like, & talk to.*

  Life is so worrying and troublesome nowadays, that it is a real distraction and encouragement to be able to lose oneself even for a few minutes among beautiful things, as apart from the ugliness and horror of so many of our problems.

  I do understand what you feel about the difficulty you experience in running two large ‘concerns’, as it were. We are very sorry indeed, but do comprehend your feelings, which are most honourable.

  Yes, please, I would like to see the Sisley.*

  I am, Yours Sincerely

  Elizabeth R

  9 February 1939 to Sir Kenneth Clark

  Buckingham Palace

  My dear Sir Kenneth,

  First of all I want to send you my very grateful, and I fear belated thanks for the most interesting and enchanting book of details.† It is fascinating and instructive & delightful, and I have so much enjoyed looking through it.

  It was indeed kind of you to send it to me, and I was so touched by your thought. […]

  Thank you so much for sending the two pictures in for me to see. I like the Stanley Spencer‡ landscape very much. The Sickert§ is a little large & gloomy I find. But then, I am still very ignorant about the modern painters, and will ask you to come & look at them here when you return and to say what you think. Would Wednesday 15th at 12 o’clock suit you. If you have a meeting at that hour, the afternoon would suit me just as well.

  Please do not hesitate to let me know, I am, Yours very sincerely,

  Elizabeth R

  5May 1939 to the Most Rev. Cosmo Lang, Archbishop of Canterbury

  Buckingham Palace

  My dear Archbishop

  I was so touched by your very kind and helpful letter, and feel that I must write you one line of affectionate thanks, which indeed comes from my heart.

  You have always been such a wonderfully sympathetic and understanding friend to us both, and to know that we have your benediction and good wishes on our journey, is a great joy, and a great help. Sometimes, one’s heart quails at the thought of the things that lie ahead, and then one counts one’s blessings – and then things don’t seem so bad!*

  I am afraid that your holiday in the Mediterranean was very troubled and anxious – I am so sorry as you deserved a little real peace more than any man I know.

  With my heartfelt thanks for your letter, I am,

  Your affectionate friend

  Elizabeth

  6May 1939 to Princess Elizabeth

  RMS Empress of Australia

  My Darling Lilibet

  I do hope that you & Margaret got home safely & none the worse for all our goodbyes and journeys.

  I am writing you this little letter, as a destroyer is coming off tomorrow to take mails, and tho’ there is very little to tell you, I feel that if I don’t write now, that you won’t hear from me for weeks!

  I hate
d saying goodbye to you & Margaret, but know that you will be happy with Miss C* & Alah, & that you will occasionally look at my ‘notes’.

  I can just see England in the distance now – the bit just beyond the New Forest where we enjoyed ourselves last summer! I do hope my darling, that if you want to know anything that you will send me a cable – I shall answer it at once.

  We steamed through two lines of ships an hour ago (rather like the Coronation review) and they gave us a lovely send off. I thought of you both, & wished that you were here. I shall miss you horribly, but be good & kind & don’t forget about fingers at Olympia, & smile politely!!

  Goodbye my Angel, give Margaret a HUGE kiss, & an ENORMOUS one for yourself from

  Your very loving

  Mummy

  PS My handwriting is very wobbly, because the ship is shivering like someone with influenza!

  PPS Papa is writing to Margaret.

  8 May 1939 to Queen Mary

  RMS Empress of Australia

  My Darling Mama

  The Repulse† is leaving us tomorrow to return home, so I am taking the opportunity of writing you a letter in case she can take a bag. So far the journey has not been bad. It was rather rough (& big swell!) yesterday, and Catherine & a good many of the servants were laid low. However, it is pretty calm today, and they have all turned up smiling! It is rather foggy, and the foghorn moans hoarsely every minute or so – such a melancholy noise, & I much hope that we shall get better weather soon.

  The ship is quite comfortable, the food is good, but there are too many stewards & liftboys & messengers about – one falls over them at every turn. But they are so obliging & eager to do anything that we haven’t the heart to send them away, poor things.

  We felt very sad leaving you all on Saturday – it was nice that you all came to see us off, and I hope you had a good journey back in that horrible Pullman.

 

‹ Prev