by T. S. Eliot
When I got father’s last letter I cabled to Aunt Susie to express sympathy for Aunt Marian,1 but I have heard nothing since. I am very anxious for more news, and am very distressed by the possibility of not seeing her again.
I am feeling much better than I did a short time ago, or when I wrote last. The weather had been very rainy, and I had a sharp attack of sciatica for two or three days, but it has now wholly passed off. Vivien is making me take cod liver oil. I think she is on the whole stronger than she was. Last winter was of course very trying, much more so than anyone can realise, and I have never told you yet of all the things that we went through here – I shall when it is prudent to do so. The doctor still prescribes a very careful and regular life for her, and she still has bad migraines whenever she worries or over-exerts herself. I do not understand it, and it worries me.
We have had Maurice here for ten days and he has just returned to Italy. He of course will have to stay there for some time to come, as he is in the regular army and as he is engaged in directing railway operations.
Is Frank2 still in France? London is extraordinarily crowded, and the shops, tubes, and buses are packed with people. It is very difficult to do any Christmas shopping.
I am having three weeks holiday from lecturing.
I shall think of you and should like to be with you on Christmas morning for the stockings and the tree. I like to think that you still have a tree.
With every Christmas blessing to you both from us
Your loving son
Tom.
1–His father had written that Marian (christened Mary) Stearns (1854–1918) was seriously ill.
2–Frank Munro Eliot (1886–1967), his first cousin. An officer in the 18th US Infantry, he had been gassed at Cantigny but remained in the army.
TO His Mother
MS Houghton
29 December 1918
18 Crawford Mansions
My dearest mother,
I was very deeply grieved to hear from Henry that Aunt Marian had already died. (Father wrote ‘Aunt Mary’ but I presume he meant Aunt Marian.) I expected it to happen from what father said before, as a haemorrhage in the brain sounds almost certainly fatal, but I am sorry that she never got my cable. I was always quite fond of her, and enjoyed talking to her. I had a very pleasant few days with her once in Paris. I shall miss her very much when I revisit Cambridge, and I had also looked forward to entertaining her in London.
I wonder if she left any money to the Hinkleys or Aunt Nellie,1 or whether she had only a Davis annuity.2
I hope you had Henry and Ada for Christmas and should like to know what sort of Christmas you had. I think you were very generous in your presents to me and Vivien and we both thank you very deeply. (Vivien is writing separately). Your letter containing the drafts came the day before Christmas. I wanted to cable a Christmas message to you, but the cable companies refused to take any ‘greetings messages’ this year on account of the pressure of correspondence.
I got a small Christmas tree, though it was impossible to find in the shops any of the usual trinkets to adorn it. We had our stockings as usual with nuts and oranges and such candies as were obtainable, but very scarce. I gave her a coal-scuttle for the drawing room and she gave me some books. Her aunt presented a turkey, and we had Mr and Mrs Haigh-Wood to dinner, instead of going there, as they have been unable to get any servant.
‘Boxing Day’, the day after Christmas (a holiday here) we went to see President Wilson arrive and drive to Buckingham Palace.3 There was a huge crowd, and the streets were all hung with American flags. It was really an extraordinary and inspiring occasion. I do not believe that people in America realise how much Wilson’s policy has done to inspire respect for America abroad. I think that all the nations, allied, hostile, and neutral, trust us as they trust no other – everyone with the exception of particular circles, political or commercial, whose interests are not in common with those of the world at large. I have heard men of several nationalities speak very warmly. I don’t think much of the Democratic party, but I hope it will survive long enough to see the satisfaction of the peace negotiations along Wilson lines. America certainly has a more disinterested record of foreign policy (at least from the time of John Hay)4 than any other country. Politics here are in complete chaos at present,5 and I am very pessimistic about it. It is most deplorable that men like Asquith, Simon, Runciman, McKenna, Snowden, should have been defeated.6
I must stop now. We wish you a very very happy New Year!
Your loving son
Tom.
1–Ellen Farley Reed (1841–1931), the eldest married sister, whose husband died young from wounds received in the Civil War.
2–As a girl she had spent much time with a family named Davis, who left her money.
3–Woodrow Wilson was the first US President to visit Britain while in office, arriving on 26 Dec. as a guest of the King and Queen, and departing after five days.
4–John Hay (1838–1905), diplomat; secretary to Abraham Lincoln, friend of Henry Adams; US Ambassador to the UK; Secretary of State 1898–1905. TSE referred to him as ‘the great John Hay, who had been engaged in settling the problems of China and Cuba’ (A., 23 May 1919).
5–The ‘coupon’ election of 14 Dec. resulted in a substantial victory for the wartime coalition of Lloyd George’s Liberals, Bonar Law’s Conservatives, and a few independent and former Labour MPs, under the premiership of Lloyd George. However, the coalition was widely distrusted.
6–The defeated Liberals included Sir John Simon (formerly Home Secretary) and Walter Runciman (formerly President of the Board of Trade), as well as Reginald McKenna (formerly Chancellor of the Exchequer), who had opposed conscription. The Labour MP Philip Snowden was a pacifist and champion of conscientious objectors.
Vivien Eliot TO Charlotte C. Eliot
MS Houghton
30 December [1918]
18 Crawford Mansions
Dear Mrs Eliot
It was kind of you to send me £2 this Christmas, and I am very pleased to have it. I feel very ashamed of sending nothing to America, but you understand about the influenza and other difficulties, which lasted right up to Xmas. We had lovely weather on Xmas day and the day after –‘Wilson weather’ and certainly London was looking its most beautiful when Wilson drove through the streets. Although very tired after Xmas day, Tom and I went early and stood in the best place we could find, for over two hours. Even then we had quite thirty rows deep of people in front of us – and I should have seen nothing at all if Tom had not lifted me up just as they passed. It was a most moving and wonderful sight to see him sitting next the King, and having such a glorious welcome. We all follow American politics now, although before the war I suppose no ordinary English person knew anything about them. Tom has remarked that English people are more generally political than Americans.
Tom’s Xmas was rather shadowed by the news of his aunt’s death. It greatly upset him, and I too feel it, for Tom had told me about her and I was very much looking forward to meeting her, and perhaps having her here.
Tom was amused to hear of Robert Nichols’ activities in America.1 We saw him just before he left, while we were waiting for an air raid in a café. The story is that when he went out to France he got stuck in a chimney, where he had to hide. The chimney was knocked down and Robert’s mental balance has never quite recovered from the shock. If you can get hold of a novel of Hugh Walpole’s, called The Dark Forest, I wish you would read it. Hugh Walpole is an acquaintance of Tom’s.
Will you please thank Marion for her Calendar, which arrived only today. It is a most useful kind of Calendar, and I have not seen one like it. I shall write to her.
London has never been so full. The crowds are so enormous, everywhere, in the streets and public places, theatres restaurants, you cannot possibly imagine. Of course one sees Americans at every turn.
Hoping you and Mr Eliot will have a very healthy and happy New Year.
Yours affectly.
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1–In 1917 Nichols had been attached to the Foreign Office, and went to New York in 1918 as part of a delegation from the Ministry of Information.
1919
Henry Ware Eliot TO Thomas Lamb Eliot
MS Reed College
3 January 19191
[Hydraulic-Press Brick Company]
Dear Bob,
Thanks for your nice letter of 28[th] and enclosures which I now return.
Wilson is hurting himself in his own party. I want him to live long enough for the people to discover him in his true character. There will not be any dividend in H.P.B.2 until we know more about final results abroad and normal conditions in regard to labor and work are assured. However you will be glad to know that the Co is out of bank and owes nothing except the bonds which are due $50,000 – annually and this is easy to pay.
A dividend is the only thing which is keeping me in this parlous world. I have no other work, now that GRE3 is practically finished. In a week or more I will be ready to send you results.
We are all well and I thank the Lord that I haven’t a club foot or hare lip – but I will take them both if the Lord will give me one good ear!4
My Tom is getting along now and has been advanced at the bank so that he is independent of me. Wish I liked his wife, but I don’t.
Ever yrs.
H
1–TSE’s father died, aged seventy-five, four days after writing this letter. It is accompanied by a record of the moves in an unfinished postal chess game with his brother.
2–Hydraulic-Press Brick Company, of which he was president.
3–The Greenleaf Real Estate Company was being divided up.
4–He had long suffered from severe deafness.
TO John Quinn
MS NYPL (MS)
6 January 1919
18 Crawford Mansions,
Crawford St, W.1
Dear Mr Quinn,
Thank you for your letter of the 3d December. You say nothing of your health, so I hope that it is better than it was when I heard from you before.
I have heard nothing at all from Knopf about my manuscript. I cabled him a week ago, or Pound cabled for me. Knopf must have had the manuscript for over two months, but he has not even acknowledged receipt, so I have been worried. I am not at all proud of the book – the prose part consists of articles written under high pressure in the overworked, distracted existence of the last two years, and very rough in form. But it is important to me that it should be published for private reasons. I am coming to America to visit my family some time within the summer or autumn, and I should particularly like to have it appear first. You see I settled over here in the face of strong family opposition, on the claim that I found the environment more favourable to the production of literature. This book is all I have to show for my claim – it would go toward making my parents contented with conditions – and towards satisfying them that I have not made a mess of my life, as they are inclined to believe. The sooner it is out therefore the better, especially in view of my approaching visit.
Forgive these domestic details, but I wanted you to understand why I am so very anxious to get the book printed. I should consequently be extremely grateful to you if you would ring Knopf up and find out what the matter is; and of course if he does not want the manuscript I should be eternally obliged if you could find another publisher, as you so very kindly offered to do.1
I think Pound’s new plans are very promising: there is certainly an opening here now.
With all best wishes for your health – I have certainly appreciated very deeply the trouble you took for me at a time when you were still very ill, and when you were apparently doing more than a full day’s work of your own. I hope you will have opportunity for a long and genuine rest soon.
Very Sincerely
T. S. Eliot
1–Responding to this letter, and that of 26 Jan. below, Quinn wrote on 29 Apr.: ‘About a month ago Pound wrote to me withdrawing the copy for his book Instigations from Knopf and also the copy for your book of poetry and prose. A few days ago Knopf wrote me that he would like to publish your poems alone but not the poems with the prose. Pound will have told you that I have had the matter put with Boni & Liveright recently. They have decided definitely to publish Pound’s book. They will let me know in a week about your book. But I think they will decide to take it. I spoke very strongly in favor of it … I had clearly in mind that it was important to you to have the book printed for private and family reasons.’ Quinn received the manuscript from Knopf on 13 Feb., and took it to Boni & Liveright.
TO His Mother
MS Houghton
12 January 1919
18 Crawford Mansions
My own dear mother,
I was glad to get Henry’s cable last night to assure me that you were not ill. I am glad he was with you. Your cable came on Wednesday.1 You have not been long out of my thoughts since then, I have been over all my childhood. I don’t feel like writing anything in this first letter except to say again how much I love you – if only I could have been with you these last few days. I do long for you, I wanted you more for my sake than yours – to sing the Little Tailor to me.
I am impatient to know how you all are.
Your very loving
Tom.
1–Announcing the death of his father on 7 Jan. ‘A fearful day and evening’, VHE recorded in her diary.
TO Henry Eliot
MS Houghton
12 January 1919
18 Crawford Mansions
My dear Henry
I received last night your cable reading
‘Do not come now plans uncertain mother well’ and thank you very much. The first cable reached me Wednesday – it came in the morning but Vivien wisely withheld it until I got back in the evening. I don’t feel yet as if anything was real, but I have a restless feeling that I shall wake up and find the pain intolerable.
I expect a full account from you of all the circumstances. Mother has such unusual character that I am sure she will come through all right, but I think it is better if she goes away from St Louis, as I gather from your words is possible.
Of course I want to know too how she will be financially.
Vivien has felt this very deeply.
I can’t write more now – I have several things of importance to say by the next mail, but I don’t feel up to it yet.
I am glad you were in St Louis.
Very affectionately
Tom.
Vivien Eliot TO Charlotte C. Eliot
MS Houghton
12 January 1919
18 Crawford Mansions
Dear Mrs Eliot,
I cannot attempt to express how shocked and upset I was at Mr Eliot’s death. Tom and I are thinking of you all the time, and feeling so dreadfully for you in your loneliness and grief. These days are very awful for Tom, he would give anything to be with you now.
I feel it myself as a personal sorrow, for I had so much looked forward to meeting Mr Eliot, and talking to him. So many things one longed to speak of, to explain, and to understand. Tom, I know has felt the fearful inadequacy of correspondence, as I have. At last, after so long, with so much unsaid and so much unexplained, it began to be a torture to write at all. This loss is doubly painful, as we could at last look forward to meeting, and before very long. Tom was at the Bank when your cable came. (It came about midday). I was fearfully upset, and at first could not make up my mind whether it would be better to take it to the Bank, and bring Tom away, or to wait until he came home. At last I decided on the latter, and he says he is glad I did. But how I passed that afternoon and told him and gave him your cable I really do not know.
We are very anxious to get letters, but I suppose it will be nearly a fortnight yet. What a blessing you have Henry, he is so good.
I will write you some details about Tom in my next letter, very soon. I can’t now.
With loving sympathy and all my thoughts. –
&
nbsp; Vivien
TO His Mother
MS Houghton
19 January 1919
18 Crawford Mansions
My dearest Mother,
You will know that my thoughts have been with you every day, though it always seems that little, very little, can ever filter through to pen and ink of what one feels. I am waiting as patiently as I can for letters.
One keeps thinking of little things – I have been longing to have some little drawing of father’s that I could keep and have framed. He used to do very funny ones too in letters sometimes. There was a wonderful set of comic animals that he drew long ago, and were kept in an album together – I think he did them for a fair – but I expect you would not want to split the set. I think he had a great deal of talent. I know you will treasure his scrap-books and the fine genealogy he made. I should like to have one of his books (perhaps one of his Latin texts) to keep for myself, sometimes. If I can think at the end of my life that I have been worthy to be his son I shall be happy.
If Henry had advised it I should have gone to my managers and begged a term of leave to have visited you at once. I should however prefer to come later on and should be able to stay longer for this reason: the Bank is very busy now and still very short-handed. They have just taken over another Bank, and they have not got their former Staff men out of the army yet. They have been very kind to me (as well as very flattering) and I should not like to leave them in the lurch just when they need me most. I am not at all overworked, but if I went away it would be very inconvenient for them, besides handicapping me – I hope for another rise of salary in June. If I postpone coming just until things are settled to peace conditions I can stay more comfortably and longer. And after that often.