30th March
Called round at Audley Square after lunch, excuse to see decorations in mews, but really to give brooch. Enormous perambulator with ridiculous coachwork and huge embroidered sunshade being delivered from Swan and Edgar’s. Present from Jerry. Very absurd, but amused Harriet, can’t think quite why. She very touched at my little gift, and looks very happy. Said she hoped I could remember all about babies, and anything she ought to know, as her own mother, of course, not available. Told her I could remember in grim detail, but not really true. Will have to find the volumes of my diary for child-rearing years. At Denver somewhere, I suppose. Suggested Mary as source of more recent reports.
Had to drop several hints to be shown Peter’s present, but managed it in the end. Got shown into Harriet’s little study to admire nice ebony inkstand with cut-glass inkwells and silver mounts, rather spoiled, I thought, by somewhat moth-eaten goose-quill pen, with all the feathering removed from one side. Foolishly wondered aloud why Peter had not bought a nice silver fountain pen in Garrard’s while he was about it, but it seems the inkstand was bought just to set off the ancient quill pen, point of which is that it had belonged to Sheridan Le Fanu. Felt somewhat out of depth.
Told Harriet I should need to be well prepared for clever grandchild, and asked her to recommend really good novel. She said I might like War and Peace, as it was a story about families, but Peter Rabbit would be needed sooner. Met Bunter’s intended at bottom of garden, looking at progress on converting mews. Sensible young woman with large hazel eyes, reminding me of peppermint humbugs. Said could she have lots of yellow in colour scheme as it reminds her of sunshine and sand. Said yes, of course, but will have to do scheme for drawing-room over again, to get rid of pink. Pink and yellow impossible together. Just a glimpse of Peter, as I left, looking smugger than ever. Wanted to hug him, but Meredith standing at the door with my coat. By dinner time felt quite worn out with feeling happy. Tried thinking about those poor Abyssinians to compensate, and took it rather too far. Must ask Franklin to remind me how to knit.
31st March
Bunter’s wedding day fixed for 3 August so must chivvy architect; decorators will need at least a fortnight. Found some very pretty dining-chairs with needlepoint seats in Waring and Gillows; wonder if Bunter would like them? Chairs not decoration, precisely. Must not go too far and interfere. Got up a delicious colour scheme in yellow and blue and sage green. Decided to play safe and show it to everyone – Peter, Harriet, Bunter and Miss Fanshaw – before ordering papers. Helen called and said she should think Bunter should be grateful and not expect to be consulted. Asked her how she would like it if she was made to live in horrid colour scheme. She replied she had lived in Denver ‘as she found it’. Admit she has a point. Shudder to think what she would have done if allowed to alter the old place.
28th April
Called on Lady Severn and Thames as it is the fourth Tuesday of the month, and my day for visiting. She tells me the new baby will be called Matthew if it is a boy. Said I couldn’t think where she got that idea, as the only Matthew in the family is a poor cousin whom Gerald keeps on at Denver, fussing about in the library. She said she had it from Peter himself, and that I should pray for a boy as if they have a girl they will call her Keren-happuh. Wonder if she is losing her grip, at last? Will ask Peter about it as soon as possible.
14th June
Quiet supper in Audley Square, just the three of us. Discussing Mrs Simpson; Uncle Paul has sent French newspapers all saying the King will marry her. Peter saying he would have to abdicate in favour of his brother the Duke of York, as no such thing as morganatic marriage in England. Can’t believe he would do such a thing; the King, I mean. Talk turned to thorny question of Bunter’s wedding present. Harriet suggested the Paul de Lamerie candlesticks. I said, ‘Oh, no, not those, Peter is so fond of them.’ Harriet said that was the trouble with being immensely rich; when you wanted to give a costly present it had to be something that cost you to part with. Got the distinct impression that Peter agreed with her.
3rd August
Bunter’s wedding day. St James’s, Piccadilly. Bunter turns out to be terrifically High Church and they had Panis Angelicus sung by Aurelia Silberstraum, newly arrived from Vienna whom I think Peter once . . . well, that’s all in the past, though I rather think he pulled some strings to get her papers sorted out. Service packed, and full of music critics and press-hounds, rather better behaved than the criminal reporters, all lurking by the steps to the organ loft, wanting a word with the soprano. Bride slipped in almost unnoticed. Wearing shell-pink satin, very becoming. Bunter and Meredith (the best man) looking strained. Would swear Bunter’s eyes were moist as bride approached the altar. Must be mistaken – too unlike Bunter. Harriet in loose dark red dress, has begun to have that slightly leaning backwards gait. Said to Peter that pregnancy suited her, and he said she looked like a treasure ship making into harbour. Old self clearly not entirely snuffed by middle age. Rather too much incense for my liking, but when Aurelia S opened her mouth was thunderstruck! Thought entire church would lift off the ground and float into the Empirean – if there are empires in the sky – may have got the word wrong. Quite understand what the fuss over her is about.
Reception at the Bellona Club, in private rooms. Bunter’s mother, very large and enfeebled, brought up in service lift, and installed in armchair. Wedding presents all on display – spotted Peter’s candlesticks at once. All Peter’s servants above level of housemaid among the guests, all very well turned out. Mrs Trapp resplendent in powder-blue two-piece and wide-brimmed pale blue straw hat trimmed with pansies. Bride’s father made rambling speech, obviously very proud of his daughter. Quite right too; I do so admire these modern women who can do things. Saw couple off from side door – front halls forbidden to women. Amazed to see the happy couple depart in Peter’s Daimler. Said he must be even fonder of Bunter than I had thought; Harriet said large car needed to carry equipment for photographic tour of Highlands. Went home rather depressed; often feel depressed after having a good time, wonder why?
Helen called round before dinner, outraged. Says it makes family look ridiculous to have had master married hugger-mugger in Oxford with strange dowdy company (she means women dons) and man married with ludicrous pomp in proper way in London. As for operatic stars singing church music, indecent level of showing off. Surprised at Bunter, would have expected him to know his place. Lots more similar remarks. Told her that it was natural to feel miffed when she herself not invited. Felt considerably cheered up. Anger must be good for the blood.
25th August
Sent Franklin to Hatchards for copy of War and Peace, thinking today good time to start long book, gap to fill now job on Bunter’s house finished. Silly woman came back with Anna Karenina, saying it was the nearest thing she could find. Got as far as first sentence, then stopped to think. ‘All happy families resemble one another, but each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.’ Great author has got that the wrong way round. I think unhappiness is much the same whatever the reasons for it, and happiness is a quirky odd sort of thing. Surely nobody before has been happy in precisely the way that my Peter and Harriet are? Must be reading the wrong book – will ask Harriet to lend me War and Peace.
Authors’ Note
Laurence Harwell was found guilty of the manslaughter of his wife, and the murder of Phoebe Sugden, and was hanged for the latter offence on 14 July 1936. He left an annuity to his father-in-law and the bulk of his fortune to charities for out-of-work actors and actresses. Mr Warren lived with Mr and Mrs Rumm for the rest of his years, and learned to play the harmonium for their prayer meetings.
Claude Amery’s play The Suspect was put on in August 1937, financed by Sir Jude Shearman. It was a huge success, and laid the foundation of his long career as a playwright.
Gaston Chapparelle was parachuted into eastern France in 1941 where he organised a cell of the Resistance, and acted as a secret agent for British Intelligence. His cover was neve
r broken and he was given the Légion d’Honneur in 1948.
Bredon Delagardie Peter Wimsey was born on 15 October 1936, and his brothers Roger and Paul in 1938 and 1941. During the war Peter Wimsey served in military intelligence. Harriet took the children to Talboys, and lived quietly there until 1945. Bunter tried to rejoin his old regiment, but was refused on grounds of age. Early in the war Mrs Bunter’s studio prospered, taking pictures of young people in uniform, but in the Blitz a direct hit demolished it, and the Bunters, with their son Peter Meredith (born December 1937) joined Harriet in Pagglesham, where they rented a cottage near Talboys, and Bunter organised a super-efficient contingent of the Home Guard. Meanwhile Lord St George became a fighter pilot, and Helen, Duchess of Denver, went into the Ministry of Instruction and Morale. (See the Spectator, 17 November 1939.)
Harriet Wimsey continued to write detective novels, branching out somewhat from the conventions of the form. The work which she completed just before the birth of her first son, though darker and more psychologically realistic than most detective fiction of that time, was hugely popular, and well reviewed in the literary press, thus confirming her in the new direction she had taken. Her monograph on Sheridan Le Fanu took her a further ten years to complete.
Dorothy L. Sayers abandoned the writing of Thrones, Dominations, some time between 1936 and 1938, having become deeply involved in the staging of Busman’s Honeymoon, and then with the writing of religious plays, followed by her life’s crowning endeavour – a translation of Dante’s Divine Comedy. She died suddenly in 1957 leaving the last thirteen cantos of the Paradiso to be completed for her by her friend Barbara Reynolds. Peter Wimsey had not left her when she ceased to write about him; in 1937 she described him as a permanent resident in the house of her mind, and said she found herself bringing all her actions and opinions to the bar of his silent criticism.
Dorothy L. Sayers was unusually willing to collaborate with others; she shared the writing of The Documents in the Case with Robert Eustace and the playwriting of Busman’s Honeymoon, which preceded the novel, with Muriel St Clare Byrne. On the great translation of Dante she recruited and received the assistance of scholars, notably Barbara Reynolds.
Jill Paton Walsh read Gaudy Night in her early teens, and was inspired by it with an ambition to study at Oxford, the achievement of which has put her life-long in debt to Dorothy L. Sayers.
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