Love darling, Honks
A constant companion throughout was of course Tom.
E. James asked me to marry him, but, like Max [Mosley] when Rudi invited him to stay, I said ‘No fear’.
Darling Debo
I’ve got an awful feeling the new editor of E. Standard has banned me,1 I’m not surprised, was much more surprised that I was wished for.
Andrew Wilson2 telephoned but I couldn’t hear what he said. What I earned was so wonderful, it paid for all presents for 18 great grandchildren & a few young grandchildren, and more. Anyway Xmas is now o’er for a minute or two, & birthdays on the whole I skip.
My eyes are awful, red & watering & I have to ration my reading. The Dr gave drops but they seem useless. I’m so deaf that I really dread people, but it may improve, I mean it comes & goes. I can hardly hear my wireless even pressed on my ear. Isn’t it tahsome.
My diary is terribly sad in parts, all our friends dying, very few left, & of course terrible poor Naunce’s illness, I lived through it all over again. What a ghastly thing it was & even now I’m not sure what caused the pain. Several doctors said long before she died ‘If it had been cancer (the pain) it would have killed her by now. It’s a nerve pain.’ But isn’t all pain nerve pain? It sounds quite meaningless to me. I do think Kit was good, he didn’t like her & for years put up with my rushing to see her, often from Paris in the train & then coming back with agonizing migraine. He always managed to be so sympathetic about my wretched headaches.
As to you, you were perfect. All the same we do seem to have had lovely golden days & jokes. The diary tells all. Not a bit interesting except to us. Poor Naunce.
Love darling, Honks
My misshapen nose has turned bright red.
Dearest Hen
Thanks for the kind fax for birthday. What I can’t believe is that I’m nearer 80 than 70. Did you think that at 76?
Cows. Yes, MAD.1 Everyone is, it wd take too long to explain now but it’s dread if you happen to like cows, sane or mad. Did you see the wonderful cartoon in the Spec[tator] of a cow at the piano singing ‘Mad About the Boy’? Oh it is lovely.
Haste, packing for Lismore.
V. much love from Yr 1000 yr old Mad Hen
(Diseased)
Darling Debo
I think on Friday it’s two years since Woo died & I miss her more than ever. The other two I think of every day are Wife and County.1longing to & still all there & wanting to say a thousand things about all his businesses etc, such a brain full of executive ideas it must have been torture. And she living to 104 poor thing.
Then I’ve been reading about Mary Berenson,2 long illness, pain, longed to die & couldn’t. Very depressing.
Mitterrand3 a perfect subject for R. Kee – the most curious man ever born. Al has lent me so many books about him I know it by heart but R. Kee will come up with something marvellous I’m sure.
Love darling, Honks
Darling Honks
FREEDOM has set in – I’ve sent my last piece to the Sun. Tel. You can’t think how marvellous it is not to have to think of NEXT WEEK. How does Auberon W1 or any of his peers, go on day after day, week after week. Can’t imagine.
The Garter day was amazing.2 Like a medieval play, clothes, language & background. We left London at 9 A.M., had the usual wait in a lane, went into the castle at 10.30 & from then on it was Disney with Knobs On. Much waiting about while Andrew & his mate Sir Timothy Colman, of mustard fame & Lord Lt of Norfolk, rehearsed & generally fiddled about out of sight of the hen pheasants who were the women.
Only 2 female Knights now Lavinia3 is dead, Pss Anne & Mrs Thatcher, so Denis [Thatcher] was among the spouses and what do you think: he LIT UP & smoked incessantly in those hallowed rooms. It was so comical & so like him, I was delighted that he broke the rules – not that there are any rules but sort of unspoken, you know.
Anyway eventually it was the actual giving of the thing by the Queen. That was done in a long narrow room with 50s brocade & curtains, not the real room because that is still being restored after the fire. Only the Knights & spouses go in (I asked the Queen’s private sec. after about some detail & he said ‘oh I don’t know, I’ve never seen it’). There is something very touching about the ancients hardly able to waddle, like Leverhulme4 & Hailsham, all dressed to kill. Longford looked quite spry compared to them. Cake is weeny but was her usual amazing self. Andrew & T Colman were presented one by one. They get dangerously close to the Queen who does something with a ‘collar’ & something else with a sort of dressing gown cord. She is highly practical, quick & neat & of course the ‘presenters’ are not and fumble with the cord etc etc till she grabs it herself to get on with the job. The language is thrilling, ancient & rather frightening, nothing but battling with things & people. All v. moving, partly because it has happened since Edward 3rd & partly because of the slowness of each movement, like a slow-motion film.
Then a long wait for disrobing. All of us round the walls while the Queen says how-d’you-do to everyone, followed by Prince Philip, Friend,5 Cake & Pss Anne. Another long wait & drinks & cigs for Denis then lunch in the Waterloo Chamber. I drew husband & son, & Andrew 2 queens. I had exactly the same Nature Notes talk to Prince P that we had done 2 months ago when I last sat next to him. I wonder if he noted it, not I suppose or he’d have thought of something else. Friend sweet as always. I don’t know why I love him but I do.
Then, after fairly ages, the wives & Denis went out into the brilliant sun to walk down to St George’s Chapel between the crowds of people who had tickets to be on the walking route. Henry & Joan, Roger & Sue Wardle, & John & Mrs Oliver6 were our guests & by a miracle I spotted the first four. Saw the real procession, again incredibly beautiful, old men dressed as cards & even older ones called the Knights of Windsor. Then into the dark, cool chapel, up the choir stalls so one can’t see the congregation.
3/4 of an hour & one of those anthems which might never stop, you know how they go back again & again & Amen can go on pretty well for ever.
Processed down the aisle & glimpsed Heck [Knight], whose grandson William Vestey is a page to the Queen, & Sto & Amanda but not the others – Soph & Al, Em & Toby – they were very much there but didn’t spot them. Out in the boiling sun again, cars this time, back to the Waterloo Chamber (all the Lawrences have been cleaned & have the miracle new picture lights) for tea. This time all the royals disappear so there was a great feeling of hats off, hair down & general relaxation.
Dear me what an extraordinary day. Next day was Ascot, very jolly. Sto will take over in the autumn next year, secret, but I don’t suppose you will shout it from house tops. He will be HM Representative.7
Well that’s enough for now you won’t have got this far.
Much love, Debo
Darling Honks
Decca is not well. Dinky faxed me to ring her (Dink). I did, last night. Decca has two worrying things, spitting blood & a v. swollen leg & ankle. I’ll keep you in touch. They’ve ‘looked at’ her lungs, all clear except a corner which the camera didn’t reach so they won’t say it isn’t cancer. It is not tuberculosis. So what is it? Leg painful, lungs not. Lots of slaves looking after them. D hates admitting illness. Bother. Bob better.
Much love, Debo
Dearest Hen
THANKS for reassuring message and my word I am glad that Dink is with you, she will give confidence and SEE TO the doctors1
Go on faxing, please.
Much love, Yr Hen
Darling Honks
In the most crowded week I’ve had of years we went to dinner with Jayne Wrightsman.1 Rothschilds,2 D[avid] Beaufort, Kay Graham (of Washington Post) & many more including the de la Rentas3 who had been to stay here the weekend brought by Jayne, all assembled when in blew the Pss of Wales, 7 feet high on tottering heels dressed in black jodhpurs with a black tunic on a hot summer night. The Kissingers were there – he had come for the FOOTBALL,4 do admit, Mrs K & the Princess are doubles, they could do an act together, sa
me hair & same height.
Anyway Andrew sat next to her & hasn’t been very forthcoming but they talked about old times & he got the impression she is sad. Well I expect she is. The trouble is she’s mad. But she is a brilliant actress/manipulator and can twist & turn people with her little finger.
The Antiques Roadshow was THE best fun in the world. They asked me to choose something of this house to talk about so I took the hawk5 because it is such a surprise – first the date, 1697, then opening it to find the cup. Did that the day before. 3,500 people came up the west drive & down the steps to the w. garden where there was a huge tent but it was the perfect June day so all the EXPERTS set themselves up under garden umbrellas dotted about. People queued for 3 hours to take their objects, all quite content in the sun & seeing a garden which the regulars don’t see. I took Evie’s Ronald Knox with its blank pages6(price? that stumped them) & the drawing of Elvis I got through the Las Vegas auction. The drawings lady (from Sotheby’s) said hold on to that it will increase in value – as if I’d ever sell it. One excitement was a little landscape belonging to Mrs Dean,7 alas not well enough to bring it herself so one of the Farm Shop ladies took it for her. Bought for 2/-in an open-air junk market in Sheffield 20 years ago ’twas £5,000. By Lord Leighton. I thought it might have been more, high fashion & all that. A good buy all the same. Your fan, Robert Innes Smith,8 who writes for Derbyshire Life, brought a clock which he’d paid £50 for years ago – £10,000. All very jolly indeed. The first people started queuing at 7.15 & it ended at 7 P.M.
I spoke to Decca. She is unwilling to talk about herself but Dink tells me she has 5 drs, 2 for the leg, one for tuberculous lung, one GP or whatever they’re called in America, & one for lung cancer. She was to be scanned yesterday. I’ll get news from Dink as I had the distinct impression Decca would prefer that. Last invasion of the summer tonight, trustees. Meeting tomorrow, they leave after lunch then NOTHING for a bit. Well not nothing but much less.
Much love, Debo
Darling Honks
The enclosed1 explains all re Decca. The extraordinary thing is she had no idea there was anything wrong anywhere till she coughed up blood & went to the Dr. The only pain she has is in the hip & as you see they thought that was because she put all the weight on that leg because the other ankle was broken a year or 2 ago. Even now they don’t know re the hip. But the rest is indeed a shock. The Dr says the lung may have started a year ago, the brain probably 3 weeks ago. Probably you will note.
I talked to her yesterday, she is amazingly cheerful & they have given her ‘mood uppers’ which must be working. Oh my word how odd cancer is. Of course she was a chain smoker but that wouldn’t be responsible for kidney, liver or brain, would it? She is determined to go to Cape Cod, 7–14 Aug. And to finish her book.2 The Dr says she has 6–9 months to live. We know they don’t know that. I mean if the brain cancer only started 3 weeks ago it must have grown fast to be spotted so why shouldn’t the kidney & liver do ditto, & they can’t treat it all. She has had 2 radiations, 3 more next week. But as I say she sounds cheerful & is pleased to have been told the whole story. Dear me.
Dink is there, she is the all-time support of course. I keep finding things about funerals in England, seems a bit macabre, near the knuckle etc now. But she doesn’t think so.
Much love, Debo
Hen – you are a marvel & thanks SO, SO much.
Boring medical news just to keep you in the picture. Turns out cancer is also in bones (bad hip) as well as brain, so it’s radiation in all those places daily until 24 July. Doesn’t hurt at all plus I get marvellous pain pills and blue cheerup pills-Dink’s in charge. So I’m feeling v. well at the moment.
FUTURE PLANS: Am much hoping to get to England, possibly late autumn or even Xmas so don’t come here. But DO come to me funeral, about 9 months or a year off accdg to the Dr. I thought I’d make SCI give a free one with all the best?1 I’ll let you know as plans progress.
That’s about it for now. Point of brain radiation is to spruce it up a bit so one can get on with the book etc. Time will tell. All hair will fall out I’m told, so various ones are making wigs.
Yr loving and GRATEFUL old Hen
Darling Debo
I feel miserable about Decca & her poor husband not well himself, it doesn’t bear thinking of. So glad she’s got the marvellous daughter. Oh Debo.
Love darling, Honks
Dearest Hen,
I note you are in London but this will doubtless catch up.
So what happened – as you have it, pretty much. Coughing blood, X-ray-first no cancer cells – other procedures – cancer of lung & other places incl. thigh. I asked how long the cancer had been there – can’t say for sure, about a year they thought.
Not only no malaise whatsoever, no headache which one wld be absolutely expecting don’t you agree with c. of the brain, hardly any pain except in thigh & that’s under control with marvellous medicine for same. Daily radiation at hosp. But here’s the point Hen: SO much better than just being hit by a car or in plane wreck. At least one can plan a few things – also feeling absolutely OK, life is v.v. pleasurable with people coming to chat plus work on bk. It all really is quite extraorder, do admit.
Needless to say I’m taking full advantage, everyone’s bringing meals on wheels, delicious things for me & all marvellous helpers who are absolutely smoothing every path here, so it’s sort of a non-stop party, all my favourite people flocking by. So why worry? Also doing all sorts of things such as helping Benj with his Cuba pianos,1 everyone now in mood to give him dough for same because of their affection for his old Mum. Did I tell that when I went to register at hosp name of Jessica Treuhaft the social worker said Are you by chance related to the piano tuner?’ oh I was pleased. Dink’s coming to live here with us after C. Cod, isn’t she a trooper.
July 12, about 5 A.M. in Calif. Yrs of 09.54 from Chatsworth just rec’d, so I’ve answered most of it. Are you getting envious of my extremely comfortable situation? One day I’ll describe the helpers, but will get this off now. Did I tell you about deadline (mot juste). First they said (Drs) about 6 to 9 months but for some reason have upped it to more like 3 months which is rather a drag as was hoping to get to London. Meeting with them in a few days – it’s so almost unbelievable, and I suppose they might be all wrong – in which case helpers etc might get livid, boy who cried wolf. By the way Dink thinks v.v. highly of the whole cancer team – she’s in constant touch with them FAX/t.phone.
Yr loving Henderson
Hen,
Of course I’d adore to see you, but when, how? Aunt Weenie: ‘Geoff, George is dead and now Sydney’s gone, don’t you think we shld meet?’ Uncle Geoff – long pause: ‘But we have met.’
If you do, that wld just be extra bonus as I do so hope to come for proper visit to England for a proper Honnish chat. Be thinking on’t.1
Yr loving Hen
Darling Debo
I’m so thankful you didn’t go to America, no point whatever. She knew you loved her & the great thing was to be in constant communication, which you were. I feel dreadfully sorry for the little husband, not well etc.
Love darling, Honks
Darling Honks
The speed of Decca’s illness is so extraordinary & the way ‘they’ look after such a thing now is totally different from the ghoul way of Nancy’s long agony. According to Em, doctors can’t tell relations anything they haven’t told the patient. Perhaps it is better. I’m sure it is. But Dink, with her long experience of nursing, was surprised by the way it went so fast. Even after the brain thing swelled & gave her the equal of a stroke, paralysed one side, the Drs thought she would be OK & get to the famous Cape Cod holiday next month. No suffering, except the horrible indignities of pipes through nose etc but she stopped that herself & said no more of feeding through tubes.
I talked to Dink last night. She said the telephone had been ‘busy’ all day. I bet it had. Two people rang here from America, Teddy Kennedy & Kay Graham of Washi
ngton Post. They do that it seems, & English people rather dread it. Even so it never stopped here.
I asked Dink re funeral, cremation she said, & a ‘Memorial Service’ on Mon. What form does that take? All friends go to some public sort of room, I mean one you hire, & get up & do a talk or sing something in praise of the departed. A poem? I asked. Hadn’t thought of that she said so I’m faxing E. A. Poe’s Annabel Lee which she used to spout endlessly. I can’t tell you what a BOON the fax has been. If the hours are as muddlingly different (8) you can send it any time without annoying & they get it when they wake up & you don’t feel you’re bothering anyone. A miracle. They will have another ‘Service’ – (funny word?) in New York in Sept or Oct & most likely one in London.
I talked to Hen the night before she died. To was the key, she mumbled things I couldn’t hear but she knew it was me.
Much love, Debo
Darling Honks
I’ve had some strange letters, dug out of the past. One from a woman who was in a Paris family with Decca in 1934 including a photo of her with quite a fat round face and Id, really beautiful. I had forgotten that Id was with her when she was learning French (?!!) The writer of the letter says she only has jolly memories, Hen was not cross or sad then.
The obits. were unbelievably inaccurate. To be expected I suppose. Not one got it right (facts I mean).
This is a luxury week, NOTHING written down & no one coming to stay. Very rare. So I feel like you, mooning round the garden. But I’m even luckier because I haven’t got to cook what I pick.
The Mitfords Page 74