The Mitfords

by Charlotte Mosley

  All love darling, Honks

  1

  Darling Cord

  Just a word to say today was (after you left) foam rubber day, as distinct from la visite de Mme la Baronne de Rothschild day or Electric Toothbrush Day, all of which merge in one’s mind anyhow. Language barrier both sides Pacific/Atlantic came straight to the fore when Ann2 said she wanted a rubber sponge.‘Eponge en caoutchou’, I was wondering? Having long since forgotten most Fr. words for things. Turns out she meant to say the stuff used in pillows, mattresses etc which she calls rubber sponge&we call foam rubber. I set out to find out what the Fr. call it: la mousse! One wouldn’t want that for pudding, don’t you agree, although I’ve often had it. Not obtainable on our shopping rue, so forward to Prisunic, which had it in ample supply. Ann had fashioned a v. clever border of it around the bedpan to ease the agony of sitting. In my view, a v. good invention bound to find far more favour than the elec. t.thrush etc.

  So, coming back to the Impasse&dying for a Herald Tribune (sold out everywhere, I’ve looked all day) I stumbled on a Gare [station]. All shut (newsstands etc) except for a photo place, 1 fr, three mins, which invites you to record yr‘mood of the moment’. Here it is.

  Much love, Dec

  No change in her general condition after you left, although she was pleased to see La Mousse trekked in (fearing the while it was unsanitary etc, yet I believe she’ll like it once tried).

  Tomorrow, the Wars of the Roses-pray for me, as there aren’t too many good ones left, they often fall to bits as one picks them …

  Dearest Hen,

  Just a word to say I do think the events of yesterday, Dr visit&ordering 4 double morphine injections daily, have made a huge difference.

  All this makes me not so much mind abt. leaving tomorrow (and feeling that when I do I’ll probably never see her again). I’m afraid I haven’t been much help, too little&too late, also it was so awful having to stir poor Diana out; yet N. looked so very near death&so much worse than any time since I’ve been here (this was all before the Dr came&the double injection) that I thought I simply must ring D; and of course she said that was perfectly right.

  I do hope you had a jolly horse show. Sorry this writing’s so illegible, I was doing it under the dryer at the local h. dresser.

  Much love, Yr Hen

  P.S. I’d written all the aforesaid before returning here – so must just say a word abt. the saying goodbye which was pretty ghastly. After supper I got my things together (such as they are, you know, bag, basket, coat but dawdled over)&then went to have a word with Hassan. I said that in every single letter my sister has written ever since you came here she has spoken of you&can’t say enough abt. how good you are to her (etc etc)&he responded,‘I look on her as a mother’ (!!!) so I said I am your aunt, in that case,&we both fell to sobbing, Hen. So I mounted to N’s room, full of resolve to say briskly‘well goodbye for the present’ but sensing I was losing control just said‘goodbye Soo’&fled in floods. Ann said [Nancy] gazed at my retreating back¬ed the floods&started crying like mad but long before I actually left was sound [asleep], so all that part’s OK. As you’ve perhaps noted in life, to me she’s a) a hurler of slings&arrows as in last few days re roses etc (yet starting when I was 5, in my recollection)&b) stellar attraction, sort of alternating between these. And now she won’t be there to alternate.

  Hen sorry for this dreary wail, any blood on this paper is pure flea blood the brutes.

  Yr Loving Hen

  Dearest Hen

  Nancy died in her sleep at 1.30 P.M. yesterday.

  The Colonel had been to see her in the morning&thought she recognised him.

  Thank goodness it is over, she really had the most awful time any one can ever have had.

  It was so marvellous of you to do that awful journey the other day. Thank goodness we didn’t put you off till July, which we so nearly did. And thank goodness she died at home¬ in some foul hosp. She is going to be cremated in France on Tues or Wed and Honks&Sir O will bring the dreaded casket back on Thurs and ’twill be buried at Swinbrook on Sat 7th. Everyone thinks that is the best, and friends who want to come to the funeral can, instead of.

  Apparently one awful complication about bringing ashes to England from abroad is that it is the usual approved way for drug people to move their wares about, so it just makes it more difficult and complicated.

  Oh Hen how odd life is. And death. Terrific haste, this is just to tell you the plans.

  Much love, Yr Hen

  Hen, you can imagine how immensely glad I am that I went to Versailles – very much Bob’s doing, he flogged me on&said I shld. regret it if I didn’t go, very right. Also having actually been there,&seeing, is perhaps the only way one could really grasp the fact of wishing it was all over for her, and thus not minding so terribly when it was. Oh Hen wasn’t it all too vile for words. In yr. gram you said‘peacefully’,&I do so hope that meant the last few days were a bit less foul for her.

  So many things come flooding to mind about her, such as Muv saying‘Nancy is a very curious character’, too true. The great regret being that she hadn’t got the strength to do the Memoirs, where said curiosity of character wld. have come out full force, don’t you agree? But she did leave far more behind than most people, such as her smashing books&the general memorableness of her. Some of which even comes through in the obit. in the S.F. Chronicle, though dimly,&through the puzzled eyes of the obit. writer.

  You must be absolutely swamped with the thousand horrid details that crowd in after deaths, so don’t bother to answer. I’m mainly writing to say thanks awfully for the telegram; by a quirk of time etc. I didn’t get it until I’d seen in the paper,‘Author Nancy Mitford Dies’, a chill yet blank message since the actual mourning for her has been going on so long.

  Much love,&to the others, Yr Hen

  1

  Darling Decca

  I’m staying with Woman really. (Not as above.) We had Naunce’s funeral yesterday. Swinbrook was looking wonderful, green&summery&blue sky. There were many friends&none of the ghastly people who crowd into memorial services.

  All the French part was what Woman wd call ghoulish, this was because of various things like boiling hot brazen days,&the fact that she was cremated. We are having a service later on in the church one saw out of her window. Debo is sending the obituary from The Times which was the only good one (Raymond Mortimer). Her grave is next to Boud’s.

  Well darling that’s it. You were more than wonderful to have come,&I’m so thankful we settled for June, since July would have been too late.

  I enclose what Col&I put in Figaro,&a letter to make you laugh (throw of course).

  All love, Cord

  Dearest Hen

  Well it’s all over, and one feels an incredible LIGHTNESS OF SPIRIT to think that awful pain is done.

  I really think she had a FOUL life-not only the last bit which was like being tortured for 4½ years, but all of it. I know she had success as a writer but what is that compared to things like proper husbands&lovers&children-think of the loneliness of all these years, so sad.

  There was many a drama over getting the Mitford casket to Swinbrook, it was a question of will she won’t she till the last minute. Poor Honks had the most awful week in sweltering temps arranging it all with the delightful strikes going on all round&five hours delay every time one wanted to phone, which was all the time.

  The actual funeral was so unreal (like they always are) that one could scarce believe one was at it. A devilish photographer from the Observer was lurking behind every wool merchant’s gravestone,&the result is enclosed, of three witches, to make you scream. I got wreaths from home from all of us&we put Andrew&9, Nard&Kit, Woman&Decca on them.

  ‘Three witches’, Diana, Pamela and Deborah at Nancy’s funeral. Swinbrook, 7 July 1973.

  I guess it will save poor old Honks in the nick of time, not having to worry about N any more. She looks grey&thin&worn out. They have gone off to Italy for 2 weeks.

/>   I do hope my telegram landed in Bob’s office, the person said we can’t send death messages over the phone&I said oh please do&they said alright if it was expected we will.

  The flowers were marvellous and still are today.

  Well Hen.

  Much love, Yr Hen

  Darling Woo

  You were so truly wondair the way you welcomed Kit&me, I was just about finished,&staying at Woodfield made just ALL the difference. As to the funeral, I felt sad&then not sad. How lovely for her to rest there, with no more vile pain&suffering. Poorling Naunce. I thought the Sunday papers were much more sympathetic to Naunce than the dailies (except The Times) had been.

  Looking back, Naunce’s long illness seems like a terrible nightmare. You had a lot of the worst part,&she LOVED it when you were there in the draughty visitor’s room. Oh Woo, poor Naunce. Thank heaven it’s over. It has made me dislike&despise doctors more than ever. Always pretending.

  All love Woo, come soon to Temple,

  &THANK you, Nard

  Darling Honks

  I am thinking of you in the sea. I do hope I’m right? Oh Honks what a time you’ve had. No one except me will EVER KNOW what it’s been like. But when you do eventually get back to Temple it will be a haven won’t it …

  I’ve had 160 letters. You’ll have the same no doubt. I haven’t started on them yet, they are daunting. Nothing from Anna Maria [Cicogna]!

  Now Honks, 12 of the most eminent cancer researchers came to lunch yesterday to do with the Campaign which A[ndrew] is head of. We were talking about Food. One said smoked things have a very high content of something dangerous which can start cancer. Two off him sat the man who is the last word on that&he said‘oh no that is not so at all’. So you see even at that level they simply DONT KNOW. They were utterly charming of course&one was undone by their niceness&cleverness, but …

  The Shetland Show was lovely, only one first prize, good for the soul.

  Much love, Debo

  Dearest Hen,

  It’s been such ages since I heard from you,&I do hope all is OK – I was away for a v. long time, first on hol in East Hampton&Cape Cod&other delightful spots, then on a GRUELLING tour of me book1 (telly interviews etc). Am only here for a breather as tomorrow I go down to San José to live there for 3 days a week on dread Distinguished Prof. caper.2

  Have you sort of recovered from Nancy’s death? I must say I haven’t, quite-that is sometimes I can’t quite take in the fact she’s really gone. Those terrible days in Versailles are still awfully vivid, more so come to think of it than everything that’s happened since such as our hol.f wrote to a friend, soon faded, Hen. Of course, you had so much more of it during all those frightful 4½ years.

  Much love, Yr Hen

  * * *

  1 Under British exchange control, which was not abolished until 1979, £50 was the maximum yearly amount a person was permitted to take out of the country.

  2 Derek Jackson was appointed Chevalier de la Légion Honneur’Honneur for his work on precision measurements of isotope shifts.

  3 Evelyn Waugh had refused the CBE in 1959, considering it ‘very WRONG that politicians should treat writers as second grade civil servants’. The Letters of Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh, p. 394.

  4 ‘Get out immediately, Monsieur.’

  1 ‘Out of order.’

  2 ‘There’s a million and a half in it.’

  1 ‘British sang froid.’

  1 Christopher Sykes (1907–86). Author, scriptwriter and biographer of Evelyn Waugh.

  2 May Amende, Diana’s parlourmaid when she was married to Bryan.

  1 The father of Constancia’s child was the American civil rights leader James Forman Sr (1928–2005), whom she met when they both worked on the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee.

  2 Sonia Brownell (1918–80). The inspiration for Julia in George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, who married the dying Orwell in 1949. Jessica sometimes stayed with her in London.

  1 Alexandre Dumas had a Haitian black slave grandmother and Pushkin an African great-grandfather.

  1 David Plunket Greene (1904–41). A friend of Nancy’s from the 1920s who drowned himself.

  2 Brian Howard committed suicide, after the accidental death of his lover.

  1 Allen Ginsberg (1926–97). The Beat poet was a well-known advocate of marijuana.

  1 Edward Bigham, 3rd Viscount Mersey (1906–79). Married the ‘Wife’, Lady Katherine Petty-Fitzmaurice, in 1933.

  2 Andrew Bigham (1941-). The Merseys’ youngest son.

  1 ‘Two runners at Newbury this evening, then London, Edward’s christening tomorrow, city dinner, home at cracker Fri, 22 for the weekend, 500 to cktl pty Fri night and a dreaded fête which I had forgotten about on Sat.’ (Deborah to Nancy, 14 June 1967)

  2 The musical of The Pursuit of Love.

  3 For the marriage of Deborah’s son, Peregrine, to Amanda Heywood-Lonsdale.

  1 1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma (1900–79). Great-grandson of Queen Victoria. Supreme Allied Commander in Southeast Asia 1943. Viceroy and Governor-General of India 1947–8, First Sea Lord 1955, and Chief of the Defence Staff 1959–65.

  1 Nicole Ward (1907–88). Married, in 1928, Michael Hornby, vice-chairman of W. H. Smith & Son 1944–65.

  1 Giles Romilly (1916–67). Esmond’s older brother had committed suicide.

  2 After The American Way of Death, a cheap coffin became known as ‘a Mitford’.

  3 Charles Wrightsman (1896–1986). Oil magnate, philanthropist and art collector. Married to Jayne Larkin in 1944.

  4 Katherine Graham (1917–2001). The legendary owner and president of the Washington Post was one of the first friends Jessica had made on her arrival in America in 1939.

  1 Jessica had written that Constancia’s dog, on which she doted, was to be destroyed because it kept ‘chewing up children who live in the street’.

  2 ‘pitch blacks’.

  1 When the Mosleys were living at Crowood, one of the farm workers used to act in a mummers’ play, taking the part of St George going into battle against the dragon and reciting in a strong West Country accent, ‘Ba’le to ba’le with thee, oi croi / Thou upon this ground shall loi, / Clash of steel: Oi doi.’

  1 The Mosleys’ housekeeper when they lived in Ireland.

  2 ‘Common Market’. Talks were taking place to decide on Britain’s application for membership of the European Economic Community. General de Gaulle considered Britain insufficiently pro-European and vetoed the application.

  3 Max Mosley had been driving for some years in club events. In 1968, he graduated to Formula Two before retiring in 1969 to work on the legal and business side of Formula One. In 1991, he was elected president of the Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile.

  1 James Mitchell (1939–85). Editorial director of Nelson whose decision to publish Mosley’s autobiography, My Life (1968), was widely criticized. Co-founder of Mitchell Beazley, one of the most successful publishing companies of the 1970s.

  2 Michael Bowles (1904–76). The son of Lady Redesdale’s elder brother was an expert on land law and the author of Testamentary Annuities.

  1 Chips, the diaries of Sir Henry ‘Chips’ Channon (1897–1958), the ambitious, gossip-loving American-born socialite who married a Guinness heiress and became a British MP, had just been published.

  2 Henry Williamson (1895–1977). The prolific author of Tarka the Otter (1927) had been a member of the BUF and admirer of Nazi Germany.

  3 Mosley had been interviewed for ITV by David Frost on The Frost Programme.

  4 Robert Skidelsky, Politicians and the Slump (1967).

  5 According to the ‘Londoner’s Diary’, the Foreign Secretary had telephoned Frost to congratulate him on his interview with Mosley and to offer ‘some useful ammunition’ if Frost proposed to continue the encounter the following day. Evening Standard, 16 November 1967.

  1 Nancy and Andrew Devonshire had quarrelled after watching a Panorama programme about France during which N
ancy had declared, ‘The truth is that the English can’t bear seeing the French do so well’

  1 ‘Bunny’ Mellon, who ordered from Balenciaga’s couture collection three times a year, used to send a trunk full of clothes to Andrew Devonshire’s mother for distribution to charity. Nancy and Diana would take first pick from what they called the ‘mercy parcels’ and replaced with them with some of their own old clothes.

  2 Francis Bacon (1909–92). The painter’s striking portrait of Isabel Rawsthorne, Standing in a Street in Soho, was shown in 1967.

  3 Edward Rice; a barrister who was married to Marcella Duggan, Lord Curzon’s stepdaughter, 1927–61, and to Nolwen de Janzé in 1962.

  4 Joanna Pearce (1929–2005). Translator and writer. Married, in 1952, Terence Kilmartin, literary editor of the Observer.

  1 James Penrose; son of the land agent at Chatsworth and a friend and contemporary of Sophia.

  2 ‘Foundation cream.’

  3 Pamela used to drive to England with a car full of household goods that she bought cheaply in Switzerland.

  4 Dr Christiaan Barnard had carried out the first successful human heart transplant in Cape Town on 3 December.

  1 A Shetland pony.

  1 Jessica had enclosed a photograph of Constancia and her baby.

  2 Nancy was working on her last book, Frederick the Great (1970).

  3 Nancy was planning a visit to East Germany with Pamela to do research.

  1 Mosley’s autobiography My Life, was published later that year.

  2 The Trial of Dr Spock, published in 1969.

  3 Roman Polanski, The Fearless Vampire Killers (1967).

  4 Vanessa Redgrave (1937-). The actress had been protesting against America’s bombing of North Vietnam.

  1 Deborah had contributed suggestions for an article by Nancy on pronunciation and modern-day English usage in which she deplored the Americanisms creeping into the language. Reprinted in A Talent to Annoy edited by Charlotte Mosley (Hamish Hamilton, 1986), pp. 197–9.