Since Christmas all our energies have gone to beautifying the house and making the library. At last it is nearly finished. Lytton seems tolerably pleased with it which means – very much so. He has been in very good spirits, in spite of this cruel devastating cold, frozen pipes, broken motor car and no cook. I think he was very set up by the success of Queen Elizabeth and the central heating certainly makes life far less grim in the winter here – sort of pads over the deficiencies of wayward lovers and cold hearted young men. I’ve no gossip. Everyone in London seems to be ill. Poor Alix has a septic eye and has to wear black spectacles. Frances has been ill, but mercifully has now recovered. Bunny’s wife is ill. Raymond is poisoned with American drink, Lionel’s wife is with child, Alec Penrose had to pay £500 damages to the wronged husband for his new mistress. Tommy is now an Honourable. (And Garrowfn43 hopes one day to become a Lord.) I have had lunch twice with Lord Wimborne, in his grand house next to the Ritz with footmen (very attractive) with white gloves […]
I go next Tuesday to Cambridge to see King Lear and stay 2 nights in the Pavilion. Lytton said they were both in better spirits. But the restless Peter was looking for a new mistress; Phyllis unable to stand him any longer. My future is terribly unsettled. I peer, and peer into the crystal but see nothing but a glass wall and a plain middle-aged-face. And how are your Nottingham intrigues? […]
My love
Your devoted C
Carrington had been on a short holiday with the Johns in France.
To Julia Strachey
Ham Spray House
[End of March or early April 1929]
Darling Julia,
I write upside down under the spreading beech tree in the sun. I was delighted to hear from you. ‘Dowager Doris Lady P’ if you don’t mind my dear. Tiber is much better. He has taken on a new character and is rather commanding and since he only has three legs, even Lytton is forced by Cat-Public-Opinion to get up and open the doors for him. When I was in France, Lytton stayed at the Old Rectory Hall with sweet Ros, and Wogan and their little doggies. But I was disappointed that he never once saw her in the cloud-green-chiffon tea gown writing her novel […]
I agree with every word you say about the Riviera. In fact I thought it the most hideous place I’d ever stayed at. Those dingy green pines and the villas, The Blue Bird, Bella Vista, Rest Dean, Kamjabee, Ma Retreat. But as Dorelia said it’s rather a relief that all the rich odious inhabitants of the world should collect together in such an ugly place. For they leave the rest of France empty. I loved Dorelia. She is a most fascinating companion. I’ve had some grand pub crawls with old Augustus in the evenings. And went to some fashionable nightclubs in Monte Carlo with Poppet and Vivien and Kit Dunn. The Dunns are millionaire Canadians who owned the John’s Villa.fn44 Kit was dimly like Henrietta, very bulky and strong, with school boy high spirits. Sir James D who met our train at Dover with a Pullman was an appalling character ‘vigorous at 50’ […]
Augustus had been painting portraits of the Dunn family for 2 months down there. Vivien was fascinating, Poppet slightly enfeebled in the head with falling ‘in love’ every day with a new young man. For a week it was perfect. Very hot and the most exquisite flowers in the garden […] I’ve been rather in despair as Olive is still ill. I really went off for a holiday hoping to find her recovered when I came back, but unfortunately she is still in bed. The doctor says she is ‘run down’ but I have a sickening feeling it may be something worse so really most of my time lately has been spent cooking and emptying chamber pots. Ralph is bringing down his servant Mabel and her sister for Easter which will be a relief. Then I suppose I shall have to try and get a temporary, or a new girl. It’s a frightful bore. I’m not a bit against Tommy’s wall-decoration sculpture. It’s only sometimes I get into a panic and wonder whether he will ever be able to make it stick on to the wall. (I get these panics when for no reason a great chunk of plaster suddenly falls off on to the lawn.) Don’t you think it’s rather important to find out some one who has stuck sculpture on to a concrete wall and discover the technique? But I expect Tommy knows about it as much as anybody. Lytton, I think, had a slight feeling that Tommy wasn’t very keen on it perhaps. But if he still is, I do hope he will come soon and stay with you and start it here properly. For you must know, darling, that I am such an ardent admirer of everything Tommy does, that I am always in favour of Ham Spray gleaning as many of his works as possible. How is your short story? When I was away in France I told the Slaters to paint the ‘back sitting room’ cream. On my return I found my favourite blue front sitting room painted out! For they call the ‘back’ of the house the ‘front’ and vice versa. So I am rather bored with internal beautifying at the moment!
This weather is enchanting. Lytton and I go long walks and have all our meals in the verandah. He has gone to London today to see the first night of Cochran’s Review with Lady Cunard.fn45 When will you come here? You must suggest yourselves whenever you like. I’ve just tidied up my studio and directly this servant crisis is over I shall draw up my ‘plan’ for your inspection and start on a new era of work and discipline. The spelling seems rather drunk today. I am sorry. I love you so much Julia. I hope Tommy is keeping well and happy.
All my love
Your C
To Lytton Strachey
Ham Spray House
Wednesday afternoon, 22 May 1929
Darling Lytton,
I send you a budget of letters. I am rather boozed and befuddled with drink so forgive a poorish letter. Dorelia appeared yesterday, very late 8 o’ck with the Earps and Fanny Fletcher.fn46 We had a fine dinner with Moselle and burgundy, cold salmon and tartar sauce, followed by gammon and salad, followed by strawberries and kirsch, followed by brandies and coffee. The conversation seemed to me very brilliant and amusing, but perhaps it wasn’t really. They stayed the night and went this afternoon after lunch. Dorelia sent you her love and Tommy sent his regards. I now lie in a drunken trance with darling Tiber on the sofa. Tiber came in for a tremendous amount of admiration from the cat-lovers. Everyone agreed he was the best cat that they had ever seen. Olive’s little sister is better today. There seems a chance that she may recover. A cruel west wind rose up last night and now roars round the house. So basking days seem over. I hope it doesn’t travel as far as Cambridge. Chatto have sent you a book on Gibbon. I send their letter. Dorelia loved your library and our botanical Dutch books. I wish she could have stayed but she had Augustus and a tribe of visitors shrieking at Fryern today. In a moment I shall go to sleep but I must first order the wine bottles. I shan’t drink another drop now, till you return, and tomorrow I shall start a painting of tulips. Give Dadie my fondest love. I hope you are keeping well and enjoying yourself.
Your devoted loving intoxicated
Mopsa xxx
To Margaret Waley
Ham Spray House
5 June 1929
Dearest Margaret,
[…] I asked John Nash & his wife here for a day yesterday. They are still here. It’s rather awful to have a looking glass put up to the past. I used to adore her for some odd reason at the Slade. She is German, & does Folk Dancing, & walks with a Bouncing movement, & has expectant shining eyes & spectacles. But now I see she is just like all other young ladies who teach Eurythmics in the Chilterns. And he is an odd little disappointed man, with an inferiority complex brought about by living under the shadow of Brother Paul, who is now Bloated & Prosperous, whereas they have no servant, & are poor, & struggling, I wondered how at the Slade I spent so much time with them? what we could have talked about? Perhaps everyone is so egotistical at that age one listens to nothing anyone says […]
Really when Christine Nash said they’d never had a servant since they married, only a girl to wash up once a day, I felt one ought never to complain again in one’s life. She is charming. Not in the least embittered. But he is rather sad, & prematurely old, in some way … Perhaps bad health – They go today, & I shall then start painting, as I’ve no ‘interru
ptions’ till the end of the week & a great deal of work to get done. I’m sad that the tulips are over. There is nothing to my mind that can replace them.
My love dear Margaret
Your C
To Lytton Strachey
Ham Spray House
Saturday, 17 August 1929
Darling Lytton,
Not much news since you left. Ralph came yesterday and was very charming and full of incredible scandals and amazing stories.
Monday, 19 August
Your letter came this morning. I was delighted to hear all your news. I can’t write properly, as my head is completely exhausted by an unexpected weekend of endless activity and exhaustion. On Saturday morning little MacCarthysfn47 and F[rances] arrived for lunch. Then Saxon for tea and suddenly as Saxon and I were walking in the park we saw a fifth apostle had joined the group in the distance. Even across the park there was no mistaking that fiery red face and short figure, not Norman Douglas, our old friend Beakus.
He had clearly dropped in for a weekend, very vaguely of course. All Saturday evening was spent planning a cinema performance as he had brought his camera. Of course Ralph was very tiresome and destroyed every idea that was suggested until he had to be ignored!
On Sunday morning at 7 o’ck I started making ‘dummies’ and masks and finding properties. Arguments took up most of the morning whilst the sun shone very brightly, almost 12 o’ck when the sun had completely retired, the company got under way. I must say it was great fun. Saxon in the leading role as Dr Turner acted superbly. Rachel was a simple girl called Daisy, the rest of us were lunatics in Dr Turner’s mental home. (Of course I forgot that Saxon’s father kept a ‘Home’!! but I am sure Saxon didn’t mind the coincidence.) We didn’t have lunch till 2.30 and the whole afternoon was given over to drowning Rachel in the bath by the greenhouse.
This morning I’ve started before breakfast and at 11 o’ck the film was finished.
The doctor just had time to act his last scene before catching his train!
The mess and confusion left after all the acting is rather devastating and Ralph asked them to stay to lunch, which was rather a bore, as it was a great opportunity to let them go back with Beakus before lunch. At least the owl lunatic thought it was – puss played a large part in the film with great success. It is to be performed next Thursday at 41 Gordon Square. I suppose you won’t be able to come up? […]
[…] Please take care of yourself. I love you so much I can’t bear you to be unhappy or ill. Now I must go and attend to the lunatics.
My very fondest love
Your loving Mopsa
To Lytton Strachey
Ham Spray House
Monday, 19 August 1929
Darlingest Lytton,
[…] I feel rather in the doldrums this afternoon. Partly because it seems a bit hollow and empty after the wild shrieks and gaiety of the weekend, and then one of those tiresome moods of craving for a little ~~~ came upon me. But I expect it will soon pass, only it’s boring to feel so gloomy […]
You are more to me than anybody else, you know. I don’t know what I should do without you.
Your devoted Mopsa
In answer to this letter, Lytton wrote: ‘I cannot try to say all you are to me […] All my fondest love.’
To Lytton Strachey
Coombe Bissett, Salisbury
Tuesday morning, 27 August 1929
Darling Lytton,
[…] On Saturday morning I lay in bed late and recovered from the efforts of entertaining Mr and Mrs Hubert H[enderson]. It was such an exquisite day I wandered about the garden unable to make up my mind to do anything. About 2 o’ck I set off in the car, left the washing and Lord Tiberius at Shalbourne, and reached Salisbury soon after 3. Had my hair washed by a lovely female with a Raphael face. But not a very good hair dresser unfortunately. Reached Fryern for tea. After tea we sat in the fields in front of the house and watched Poppet and Vivien jumping gates and hurdles. Practising for the Romsey Horse Show on Wednesday. – I suppose you won’t be coming with Mary [Hutchinson]? – They looked so lovely with bare legs and striped jersies. Kit Dunn was there too. She rides very well. Old Augustus said to me ‘Must do a painting of Poppet jumping those hurdles. Only don’t you think it would look better it she hadn’t those breeches on?’ The garden at Fryern is filled with ravishing flowers in spite of droughts. Grapes fell into one’s mouth and peaches lie upon the walks […]
On Sunday morning I looked at Augustus’ pictures, and had my usual proposal. He gave me a very romantic poem, not indecent, curiously sad. Then Kit, and Poppet and I went [for] a long ride on the Downs. The horses were very fresh with oats, and we went a terrifying speed. I wish you could walk across that country. At this time of the year with yellow stubble fields, and great dark yew woods it looks very amazing.
After lunch I painted a picture of a thorn apple tree in flower in the garden on a huge canvas. The little Beakus turned up on his way to Southampton at 4 o’ck, followed in 5 mins by Sir James Dunn in a Rolls Royce […]
But I’ve left out Col. Lawrence, or Shaw,fn48 who appeared in the afternoon on his powerful bicycle. I met him in the garden going off to Augustus’ studio to be painted. He looked a measly little man, if I may say so …
Then we got rid of them and went off in three cars to the New Forest for a picnic. It was dark by the time we got there. The sun just setting. A beautiful dinner of cold chicken, and ham, and corton. We stayed there till the stars freckled the sky, and one could hardly see anything but the shapes of the trees. Fanny distinguished herself by singing in a cracked witch voice, songs. Beakus struck up some sea shanties. Old Augustus played hymns on a mouth organ and Edwin [John] sang melancholy French songs. For some reason we had a fight with Edwin and got thrown into gorse bushes. So my legs are now a mass of prickles and thorns […] Monday morning all the flowers looked very faded. Poor old Augustus as pale as lily […]
[…] This evening Dodo and I are going to Southampton to see the Macnamarasfn49 and visit Beakus’ ship! I am enjoying myself very much. Forgive such a straggling long letter.
My very fondest love,
Your devoted Mopsa xxx
To Rosamond Lehmann
Ham Spray House
6 September 1929
Darling,
Did you really write me your first letter? I feel very flattered. It’s awful to think what of what you have suffered. I am glad you feel better now.
It must be a queer feeling to have invented a new character with a new shape.fn50 And that in twenty years, when Lytton, and I are both infinitely old, you will come with a ravishing young man to stay at Ham Spray, and it will be the same creature that breaks wind now, & wets napkins […] But I daresay Wogan won’t let his son visit Lytton! He is bound to end up a reactionary if he starts off with cubism […]
I woke last night and smelt something burning, & looked out of the window, & saw the bonfire that I lit yesterday had fanned itself into a huge blaze. It looked so lovely, flames shooting up under the oak, and the sky quite dark covered with little stars. But I remembered it would probably spread to the marrow bed which is all straw, & was touching the bonfire. So I ran outside, and found it was just catching alight. An owl sat on the stable roof, and hooted at me. I could just see to fill some cans of water, by the conservatory, from the water tub.
It was rather fascinating pouring water on the glowing red hot straw. Great clouds of smoke rose up into the dark sky. I saw the vegetable-marrow lying like a huge pale primadonna on her couch, lit up by the footlights. Then the sky grew paler & the owls had a last midnight hunt across the fields, and came hooting back to the farm – one rook after another started to caw, and the owls hooted back angrily. Very far away I heard a cock. Far across the downs.
I went back to my bedroom, but it was so hot that I leant out of the window, & watched the sky grow grey & the stars disappear. Some bats, and moths flew around, & round the house, then all the midnight animals retired. Rooks dominated eve
rything with their cawing, a blackbird started to sing in the laurel hedge, and a pheasant answered him back in the field. Only the horses went on just the same clacking with their hoofs about the field, munching the grass. When it was quite light, a plough boy called the horses ‘cum-on, cum-on’ and they all very drearily trooped off with funeral tameness […] you choose a good moment for retiring from the world. For in spite of the pleasures of this tropical heat the disadvantages are serious. Country life is dominated in the day by flies, harvest bugs, & millions of wasps, and at night by Daddy Long legs & cockroaches. And poor Lytton (you can tell this in a whisper to Wogan) has crabs in his bush. He suspects Dadie’s guardsmen must leave them behind as mementos at 37 Gordon Square. Everything melts and the telephone is broken, so the Fishmonger will never bring ice again! […]
I must go to lunch now. You can’t think how much I loved your letter, and everything you told me about yourself.
My fondest love darling
Your devoted Carrington
A kiss for Hugo & love to Wogan
Carrington was on another holiday with the Johns.
To Lytton Strachey
Martigues not Ham
Carrington's Letters Page 41