The Mitfords

by Charlotte Mosley

  WRITE.

  Love from Dahlia

  Darling Susan,

  Thanks so much for your letter. I do keep meaning to write but as you say it becomes increasingly impossible to note other people’s graphs from this distance. I write to the P[arent Bird] quite often as she seems to like to get letters though Lord knows why, I can never think of anything to say.

  I am sending a picture of Constancia taken by Bob, also a family group of me & Bob & Constancia.

  As you can see, Constancia is our pride & joy, she really is the prettiest child ever seen & has a frightfully nice character, there’s not a trace of Mitford in her.

  I left the OPA job & am working at the Joint Antifascist Refugee Committee, v. interesting & pleasant. I am now an American citizen, which is nice.

  Are you planning to come to America after the war? Otherwise I shall probably never see you. Do come Susan, I long to note you not getting on with Americans.

  Love from Susan

  Dearest Hen

  We seem to be running neck & neck – I just had a baby boy too. His name is Nicholas Tito,1 & he weighs 9 lbs 1½ oz (or did at birth. He is now 6 days old). Bob sent Muv a telegram but she may have found it rather confusing as he just said ‘Nicholas Tito born today’. She probably thought it was a dog or something. He is simply beautiful with slanting eyes like Bob, & a terrific eater. Unfortunately I can’t nurse him because he needs 5 oz per feeding. Are you going to stop smacking your ovary & sending it to Madame Bovary after this? Or can’t you on account of the Cavendishes being religious?

  I’m still in the hospital so the Donk hasn’t seen Nicholas T. yet, but she telephones me every day & is awfully excited about him. Is Emma excited or is she too young to note? I had a wonderfully easy time. They have a thing called caudal anaesthesia; they stick a needle into your spinal cord which numbs from the waist down, & you are completely conscious all the time but feel no pain. I saw him come out all red & slimy & bloody, it was so exciting. It only took minutes. I didn’t even have to have stitches. Bob was there all the time except the last 7 minutes in the delivery room. I’m sure the Fem would disapprove terrifically of Orrhhn sticking a nasty needle into the Good Body, but it was wonderful. She sends me a fascist mag. called Truth in which there are weekly letters by Uncle Geoffrey2 on ‘murdering milk’ by pasteurizing it, they make Bob simply roar.

  Well old Hen it’s time I blew my Honnish whistle for the bed pan. Give my love to the Fem & Blor, I’ll write to them soon.

  Love from Your Hen

  Dearest Hen

  It is too wonderful about you pigging again, isn’t it quaint that yours and mine should have been born within two weeks of each other. I do hope they will have a Honnish meeting one of these days, and goodness I do long to see Donk and for you to see Em who is becoming heaven and walks about like mad, but she doesn’t talk yet. She is enormously fat. Her face is exactly like the photographs of you and Nancy at that age only her hair is as straight as any poker. We are calling the baby Peregrine as that is what Andrew chose, and Morny after a jockey. I don’t know which we are going to actually call him, I am waiting for Andrew to say. He is still in Italy, poor him. He’s been away nearly seven months, it seems endless.

  When I go home next month I am going to have the babies photographed and I’ll send you one. I do so long to see a picture of your Honnish Husband, do send one. Donk looks such a fascinator in the last ones you sent Muv.

  We are all going to the Island in August.

  It is bliss here. The air activity is extraordinary, one can lie in the garden and count anything up to 900 aeroplanes going to France and this house rattles and shakes most of the night with explosions from across the channel.

  There is no actual news. I live in a house called The Rookery in Derbyshire and I am here on hol.

  Do write and tell all about the baby, I do so long to hear. Were you very pleased it was a boy.

  Mine only took an hour & a half to be born, wasn’t I terrifically lucky.

  Andrew, Deborah, Emma and Peregrine, 1944.

  Mabel1 came up to cook for us while I was in bed and talked of nothing but you like she always does.

  Do write.

  Much love, Henderson.

  Darling Soo

  So very glad to note yr graph at last & also to hear from Muv that you have another baby. I am so pleased. My heiress1 is wonderful & I die to see her but Susan no I couldn’t go to America, even for you. The cruelty of the A[merican]s to me here in this tiny bookshop (which they call a store, as tho it were Selfridges) is something too inhuman – & then they are such fascists Soo. Not in your set, perhaps – or do they put it on to tease? I asked one of them why they were so unkind & he said ‘Well of course they see you in a bookshop & probably don’t know who you are’ – but that doesn’t seem quite right to me? Susan do explain.

  Well Prod has reappeared – he walked into the store one day when I thought he was in Italy & I felt quite faint. Three years he was away. So you can imagine there was some wonderful toll-gating. He is toll-gating round the place now to the army & completely blissful the dear old fellow & a Colonel Susan. ‘Is the Colonel in to dinner?’ You must say it’s funny.

  I’m going to send you Peter Rabbit books as they take up no room. Don’t forget I’ve got masses of furniture of yours – should you want some money any time we could sell it for you. Meanwhile I am using it – I mean it’s not put away somewhere damp to moulder.

  I heard about Constancia packing her bag.2 I did so roar – do you remember saving up for a bed-sitter?

  Susan isn’t work dreadful. Oh the happy old days when one could lie & look at the ceiling till luncheon time. I feel I shall never be right again until I’ve had trois mois de chaise longue3 – & when will that be? Susan I can see you shrieking so will now be off. Please give my love to Bob & Constancia. I note their graphs far more now I’ve seen their photag’s. Send me more sometime.

  Susan I do simply so long for you sometimes, you can’t think.

  NR

  Get on

  I adored the picture of the Rookery & so did Mornington Rose though he couldn’t see it very well on account of he can’t see very well.

  I am utterly trusting in you coming to stay. Are the bombs frightening? Do write descriptions. Are they as bad as the raids used to be? They have seen a lot at Eastbourne but I gather they haven’t been aimed at them so it’s not so frightening.

  Do you listen to a German programme called D Day Calling. It happens at 7.30 A.M. & 7.30 P.M. and there is a heavenly tune called ‘Invasion’, it’s the signature tune & it’s bliss.

  Andrew was in Rome the day after it fell, no one kissed him, he was in a bait. Someone threw a dead rose into his jeep and three very small children shook him by the hand.

  Goodness, Diddy1 has had a day out and I have been struggling with Mornington and Em, struggle is the word.

  Think of the horror of my future, I’ve got four fêtes to open, the first one is this Saturday and in my speech I’ve got to thank a lady called Mrs Pottinger, you must say that is asking too much. I am dying at the thought.

  I had a v. successful Oaks,2 lucky me. The cheque hasn’t come yet, I’m getting in a do as I owe masses to two gentlemen who backed the horse on my account.

  Well, the point of writing is to make sure you’re coming on the 12th, you absolutely must for the sake of morale at The Rookery.

  I can’t get over about Tud coming home it is so exciting.

  Love from Debo

  What can I read? I sit here with a vacant stare and no book.

  Darling Honks

  Oh Honks, I DO so wish you were here, I am utterly at a loss to know what to do or say but one thing is certain and that is that the awful girl1 must go. It’s like nothing you can imagine. The house doesn’t seem to be Muv’s at all, she is treated like a guest. Nobody speaks at meals, except when I do to Muv or Farve, and everything is as difficult as you can possibly imagine. Farve looks very ill I think, he is terr
ibly thin and everything worries him, even the smallest little things about the boats & the house etc. He never sits with us in the drawing room but helps Margaret in the kitchen.

  I haven’t had a chance to chat to him at all yet and if & when I do I’ll write you what he says but it seems to me that underneath he must know he’s in the wrong & that Muv and all of us are more important than her but all the same he is so dreadfully difficult and cross and quite unapproachable.

  It was evidently owing to the idea that there would be too much for her to do that the babies were put off from coming because I think he would have liked to have them. Of course it’s perfect nonsense as she only has to cook and do nothing else as Muv does the housework and it seems to me that Farve is a sort of scullery maid. Then of course there is the news which Farve has at 7, 8, 10, 1, 3, 6 & 9 & midnight and Muv won’t listen to it, so Farve & Margaret listen together and she makes maddening comments.

  Oh Honks you don’t know what it’s like, the wonderful country and the enormous sense of peace make it all the more agonizing. Tud’s advice was for Muv to simply stay here and make it so unpleasant for M that she will have to leave but I really believe she has got some reason for staying as it can’t be any more comfortable for her than for the rest of us except that Farve is on her side.

  The calling up thing isn’t very hopeful as she has got a doctor’s thing to say she is ill, whether she is or not I can’t say. Tud evidently had it out with Farve but he’ll have to do more as it really can’t go on like this much longer, Muv is so miserably unhappy. Uncle George is coming soon I hope, he is the very best person because although he is such a great friend of Farve’s he is really on Muv’s side. Bird makes everything even more complicated as Farve is very touchy with her and she’s not much help to Muv. Please don’t let on that I’ve written you all this, but if you see Tud do impress on him how very unhappy Muv is, though he must have seen for himself.

  She is so furious about the babies not coming but can’t say anything as Farve flies into a temper so easily. I wish I could stay here longer because I think an extra person is a good thing but I’ve got to be home by the first September at the latest.

  I am pinning great hopes on Uncle G and can’t wait for him to come. Oh Honks the misery of it.

  Much love, Debo

  Darling Honks

  I can’t tell you how wonderful they are being here.1 I am the only one who is hopeless, I really can’t bear to see them, they are pillars of strength to everyone else and last night you would hardly have known that anything was wrong but they have got such strained faces. The girls are wonderful, I am put to shame when I see them! My duch’s relations are all coming in relays, it will make a great difference. I think though nothing can really make any difference.

  Oh Honks there is nothing but misery. What will poor Andrew do, I am terrified that he will go right under for a time. The only consolation is that all soldiers, and everybody who has been fighting in their lives, say that it is different when you are fighting yourself. They don’t hold out any hopes of getting him home till the war is over. The Duke was trying to get Charlie Lansdowne2 home so he has been into it all and says that it is not possible. Perhaps something will turn up all the same, I do pray it will, it would make the whole difference to them to have him here.

  You were so wonderful and so was Sir O, I wouldn’t have heard the news anywhere else but I’m afraid it was beastly for you. I did so love my weekend. Thank you SO so much and please thank Sir O for being such a Hon.

  Much love, Debo

  Darling Diana

  Oh the Royal Family – just one cloud of myosotis. I’m sure they ought to try & be more glamorous but then, with those figures & those faces, how? Never would they acquire the Doll Waist so much advocated by the couturiers unless by such tight lacing as to make them scarlet in the face & utterly breathless.

  Heaven here. Debo & I so roared at the baby chicks smothered in scarves. I can’t wait to see you, only it is v difficult to work with sisters about, one so longs to chat all day. The book1 must be a success as I’m living on my savings & they must be replenished!

  You can’t imagine the heaven of hols after a three year solid grind in that shop.

  Much love, NR

  Darling

  Gerald [Berners] & I, who seem to be doing a sort of honeymoon tour (we go to Violet Trefusis1 from here), would like to come if all right on the 20th. I absolutely die for it. Oh don’t rub salt into my wounds I can’t bike – if you knew what a misery this has been the whole war, struggling in bus queues etc you would never mention it. Perhaps you will teach me (it’s getting on & specially off I can’t do, I think I could wobble along all right).

  Debo’s Emma is a dream, too good to be true & oh dear how nice Debo is, she really is heaven. The boy gives me the creeps but you know how I feel about babies! I suppose a thin man is wildly signalling to get out just like in Cyril’s2 book. I long for your boys, it is exciting.

  Much love, NR

  P.S. Just heard about Tom how too horribly worrying oh poor Farve.3

  My darling Decca

  We have all been thinking so much of you just lately & wished you had been with us all. It has been such a ghastly blow about Tom. Poor Muv was on the Island when she received the news and at first it was too rough for her to get over to the mainland. It must have nearly driven her mad.

  Nardy came to London just for a few hours & came to the Mews to see Farve. She had not seen him for about six years. Darling Nanny was there too, she had come up from Egham. Peter [Rodd] and Andrew also came to see Muv & Farve. Derek is in America so was unable to be there. I am not quite sure how much longer he will be away but hope he will be back in about three weeks time.

  With very much love from Woman

  Darling Sooze

  I thought you would like a line to say Muv & Farve are being simply wonderful & much much better than we had feared at first. But it is almost unbearable oh Tud if you knew how sweet & nice & gay he has been of late & on his last leave. That is a comfort, it shows he was happy & I know he enjoyed the journey out very much. But I shall miss him dreadfully, I’d seen a lot of him during the war.

  Old Rodd often thinks of you. The other day his mother said to him if I leave you some money who will you leave it to & he said Decca’s children so now of course she won’t as she wants it for her own grandchildren! But I was so surprised & really touched & thought you would be. Dear old thing, I’m thankful to say he’s in England for the moment.

  I’m writing a book about us when we were little, it’s not a farce this time but serious – a novel, don’t be nervous!

  More photographs please. Oh Susan I shall never see you again & I would so like to.

  Much love from Sooze

  Darling Sooze,

  Thanks for your letter. You must all have been having a miserable time, I am so terribly sorry and I do wish I were there. It seems like a lifetime since that day in 1939 when Tuddemy saw us off at the station – he & Nanny & Aunt Puss – and he was one of the few people in England I really looked forward to seeing again. Are you bringing into your book about church services at Swinbrook, when we used to make Tud blither by nudging him in the parts about not committing adultery?1

  Tell Rodd I appreciate his thought about his mother’s dough (which I really do) but why did he tell her who he was going to leave it to, he might have guessed that would ruin all.

  You would love the amazing Donk, now called Constancia in her new school. Also the beautiful, new improved walking & talking & self-feeding Nicholas Tito. We would come to England if we could afford it. If we do come, can we stay with you? I’ve lost track of who else I’m on speakers & stayers with. At the moment I’m not working because my lade who took care of the children has left. So I’m trying to look after them. Luckily Constancia helps a lot by washing up, making beds etc. She’s not at all like we were as children, but is in some ways a typical nursery-school product. Any chance of you & Rodd coming to America? I
know you hate foreigners specially Americans but you would adore Bob & Constancia & Nicholas.

  Do write again soon, and if you ever see Id or Rud2 give them my love.

  Yr loving Susan

  * * *

  1 The Nazi – Soviet non-aggression pact was signed on 23 August 1939.

  1 Inch Kenneth.

  1 Chickens. As a small child, before she could spell, Deborah thought that chickens on the lawn on a cold morning looked like wrecks at sea.

  1 There was no particular reason for the nickname which was pronounced ‘Stee-ake’ in an exaggerated way.

  2 Pamela and Derek had returned from New York where he was involved in top-secret work, and where they had visited Jessica and Esmond. Their return journey by seaplane was the second-ever commercial flight to cross the Atlantic.

  3 Julia and Thomas Bowles were seven and five years old respectively.

  4 Madeleine (Madeau) Stewart (1921–2006). A cousin of the Mitfords. Daughter of Oliver Stewart, Henrietta Shell’s illegitimate son by Thomas Bowles. Producer for the BBC and author of The Music Lover’s Guide to the Instruments of the Orchestra (1980).

  5 Large silver balloons that were raised in the skies as an anti-aircraft device during the Blitz to prevent enemy planes from making low-level attacks.

  1 Diana’s fourth son, Max, was born on 13 April.

  2 Sacheverell Sitwell (1897–1988). The writer, traveller, poet and youngest of the celebrated literary trio lived at Weston Hall in Northamptonshire. Married Georgia Doble in 1925.

  3 Lytton Strachey (1880–1932). Diana first met the author of Eminent Victorians when she was eighteen and saw him often when they were neighbours at Biddesden. She included an essay on him in Loved Ones.