The Mitfords: Letters between Six Sisters

So pleased to hear of another 10lb son (Maximilian1 this time I suppose). I hope it wasn’t too much trouble in spite of the size.

I stayed with Sachie & Georgia2 last weekend & S told me such a typical Sitwell story – it seems that ages ago they had to stay two people who knew you & Bryan very well & one who had never met you & for some reason the only topic the whole weekend was you & B. By Sunday night the man who didn’t know you was joining in & saying no that was the weekend Bryan & Diana went to Bailiffscourt, it was the one after they rode over to see Lytton Strachey,3 because by then he knew you so intimately. Of course Sachie couldn’t remember who any of them were. Weston is heaven, have you seen it?

I am here chaperoning Debo & Andrew you must say good-natured of me. They are so funny, rush at the papers & turn quickly to the racing news. The Germans will have to march down the village street before they notice anything.

Cecil4 was also there, he now does 0 but photograph Cab ministers wouldn’t you love to see him at it.

Much love & to the beautiful BOY. NR

Darling Nardy

I am so pleased that you feel really well this time, it must make the whole difference of course. Are you feeding him for a few months? And what is his name?

I am in an anxious state as Derek is determined to join the Air Force if he can, as a gunner! But of course he must do what he thinks most useful, although it is heaven having him safe in Oxford.

Hoping to see you soon – in haste to catch the last 1½d post!

Much love to you all from Woman

Dearest Cheerless

I did adore getting your letter, I forget whether I got it before I wrote last.

You do sound to be having a lucky time. It’s all right here at least more or less. I have been here a month now without going away which is terrific for me. I have got very what Stiegson1 would call ‘keen on the garden’ isn’t it extraorder, in fact I’m going to lunch with Aunt Sport [Dorothy] tomorrow to get more plants, would you believe it.

Muv & Bobo are getting awfully on my nerves, I must go away soon I think. There was a dreadful row at breakfast this morning & I swore at Muv in front of Mrs Timms2 & Farve shook me like he did you after you’d been to Mrs Rattenbury’s trial.3

I think Bobo is a bit better but I don’t know. All outsiders think she is, but she certainly is very odd. Things like this happen – Colonel Buxton came here this morning & she dashed at him thinking he was the Dean & he looked rather surprised when she kissed him. Today we went to tea at Ditchley with the Trees4 & the Duff Coopers5 were staying there & for one ghastly moment I thought she wasn’t going to shake hands however she just did.

Lots of my friends are in France & some in Norway so I don’t think it sounds much fun in London. How that will make you roar. I always think while I’m writing how terrifically you despise my life.

It is such a pity we can’t go to the Island, I think Muv & Bobo would like it better.

I expect you know that Honks produced another ten pound boy the other day, she really does make a habit of it. She & the Leader really do get on well, a terrific tease on everyone.

Well dear I can’t think of anything else, do write. Goodness I do sometimes wish you were around here, you can’t think what a difference it would make when lividry is the note with the others.

Love from Yr Hen.

Get on.

What with one thing or another I’ve come here. Bobo has become quite impossible, she gets absolutely furious whatever I do & Muv is fed up so I left, just when the STOCKS I GREW FROM SEED (tease on you because you always said they never would) were beginning to flower.

I got here on Saturday after a terrifically easy journey1 on account of going 1st class which I’d never been before & now I would rather not go than go 3rd. My dear ones2 slept on my bed all night & none made a murmur. The train doesn’t stop during air raids so it’s never very late.

There is masses to do here, the kitchen garden is a mass of weeds & all where the field was ploughed for oats & potatoes needs hoeing & things & there is no servant here at all so I have to make my bed & cook. Luckily Peter3 washes up so it’s not too bad. We have our meals in the kitchen at the same time, but at a different table, as the men, so that puts a bar on any conversation but as Farve only says ‘what’ it doesn’t make much difference. The first morning I came down to breakfast about 10 & found the kitchen full of stale smoke (Farve had been smoking there since 6) & him peeling onions to put in a vile looking stew. However I’ve put a stop to all that because I won’t eat my breakfast in a sort of 3rd class smoking carriage.

The new boat is a dream. We are going to Salen4 to try & buy a goat this afternoon, I don’t much take to tinned milk.

Do write. I rang you up in London but of course you weren’t there.

Far the most awful thing ever happened at Swinbrook last week. Nina had been on heat & I thought all was o’er & let her out & it was a Saturday night & the inn was full of air force gentlemen & when I went out what should I see on the road in front of everyone but my dear ones stuck together for life but standing back to back & everyone pointing & roaring. I didn’t dare tell Muv because I knew she’d be so livid so I had to get the car & Studley had to get in backwards. They stayed together for about ½ an hour. So of course she’ll pig, isn’t it awful.

How is Milly & where is Abbey.5

Isn’t it awful about Honks,6 & isn’t it wonderful about Tim.7

I wonder what you would think of Birdie now, she really is impossible to live with because she flies into these fearful rages & it really is terrifying.

I wish you would come here, why don’t you?

WRITE.

Love from Dahlia

Darling Pam

I read your letter over and over again – thank you so much for it and for being so angelic about having the babies1 and for taking Jonathan out and for sending me Bromo and pillow and towels. I do hope Alexander will soon get less screamy, I think it is a phase they all go through. I wonder if he enjoyed the drive to Rignell, I expect he did. How splendid that Max has done well on his new food; I miss him terribly sometimes and would give anything to hear him say ‘Agee’, and Alexander doing what Kit calls his morning broadcast. I do hope that Bryan will let Desmond and Miss G2 go to you – I don’t think Biddesden suits him at present. If possible I want his tonsils out – if Sir Frederic still advises it, which I am sure he will.

If you or Nanny or Muv writes ‘the’ letter3 to me do enclose letters from the boys, I am allowed to have them in the same envelope. I had a letter from Kit yesterday, he is quite cheerful. It is such hell not being able to see him.

Could you write to Miss Gillies and give her my love and explain that I am not allowed to write more than one letter (one goes to Kit of course) and ask her to tell you just how Desmond is getting on so that you or Muv can tell me. I am asking the Governor’s permission to see Desmond and if he says yes I will put his name on the visiting pass which I will send to Muv. If he can’t come of course it doesn’t matter but I will write his name in case he can. Please tell Muv not to bother to come all the way to see me if it is a trouble; I adore having a visitor but I feel it is such a business for her. I am perfectly well again. If anyone comes I would love a few country flowers; also a Woolworth cup & saucer, & a bowl or dish (for salad or anything I may cook). No food is allowed to be brought or sent, although we may order once a fortnight. When the hols start I will put Jonathan’s name on the pass. If Desmond & Miss Gillies come, it would be better if no one else came as we only have 15 mins. Do write again, or Nanny, and put everything about the babies, no detail is too insignificant, I so long to hear all about them. Give them and Nanny all my love, & Horse4 if you see him.

Max Mosley, Desmond and Jonathan Guinness, Alexander Mosley, 1940. Diana kept this photograph of her four sons with her while she was in prison.

All love darling from Nardy

Darling Honks

Muv writes saying one can write to you at last, oh I do so long to see your cell. I haven’t seen you or your pigs for such ages that I’ve almost forgotten what you look like what with one thing and another.

I’ve been here for three weeks with Farve & it’s terribly gloomy because it never stops raining so the result is that Lilah McCalmont1 who has come to stay, & I never stop cooking for one minute, we stiffly whip all day. I have made a wonderful improvement on Béarnaise by putting equal amounts of wine, lemon juice & vinegar. I hear you cook like a mad thing too, I do hope you are given eatable ingredients. As for poor Sir O, is he allowed to? I suppose not, horrors, what would Pat2 say.

I suppose it isn’t any good me coming to see you because you can see your pigs nearly always can’t you, or anyhow old women who can tell you about them.

We’re coming back next week & I suppose I shall have to work in London, I can’t live at Swinbrook it’s too tricky, so if ever you were short of a visitor I would come hurrying to Holloway, hurrying to Hollo-way.

I can’t think of anything fascinating, nothing much occurs here. Farve is either in fits of gloom or terrific spirits, apparently for no reason. I hope he won’t live here alone in the winter because gloom is usually the form & what it must be like here then I can’t imagine. Lividry sets in when my goat eats his creepers etc exactly like it always did, he is an eccentric old fellow.

When we were climbing around the caves here the other day I heard the most terrifying sound just like a hermit tearing calico, it so horrified me that we haven’t been round there since. It has become the stock joke & thing to be frightened of, oh the horror.

I wonder what Muv’s form is now, I mean whether she’s in a good temper or not. Her favourite thing is going to see you, she always writes ‘I’m going to see D’, or ‘I’ve just been to see D’ usually from the tea room at Paddington. She will be the death of me.

Much love. I would adore to come & see you if

you thought it a good idea from Debo

Darling Pam

I am asking permission to send you this letter instead of the visit – I did not send a pass because there have been so many air raid warnings and I thought it would be so awful if you came all the way here and then there was a warning and you could not see me after all. I am sending you a pass in this letter; but please don’t come unless you more or less must come to London – don’t come on my account because I know it must be such a trouble. Will you thank Muv millions of times for her visit and for bringing Jonathan with her, I did love seeing him, it has made such a difference. How I wish Desmond could come, but I suppose he is not strong enough yet.1 Please thank Nanny for her sweet letter; Kit always asks all details about Stodge and Weedom2 and we both long to see them, do ask her to write again soon, and do tell Miss Gillies she can write to me now (’tho I can’t reply) about Desmond. Will you ask Muv to send £1 to Desmond from me for his birthday; I am also getting Harrods to send him a few little things.

Now darling I wonder if you can possibly imagine how grateful I am to you for all you are doing for the babies, I feel so overwhelmed by all your wonderful kindness. I do long to see you all so much, and the sweet little foals. The vegetables from last week are still lasting, they are heaven. I made saucisses au vin blanc today for tea. Do send some more lovely DILL, Enid3 & I adore it. I am very well, only wish we were out more in this divine weather, we are only let out 8.30–9.30 and 6.30–7.30 – early and late. Heavens what a lot there will be to tell when I get out – there is very little one can put in a letter. It is rather cold and chilly in the prison and one longs for more sun. Tell Nanny to get any clothes she needs for Alexander and Max before the purchase tax is imposed. Also, if she sends me wool and pattern, I would knit anything – for instance, knickers to go over Max’s nappies (!) Have you seen the dress I knitted for myself? Would you like me to make you one? Do write soon – every detail enchants me.

All love darling & so many thanks from Nard

Kisses to Alexander & Max.

Darling Nardy

I hope no bombs have dropped on the Prison yet. Max & Alexander are very well, except that Max has rather taken to not sleeping much in the day time. Nanny thinks he may be getting some teeth. He is now having milk from an Ayrshire herd in the village which is not only T[uberculin] T[ested] but also Attested which is the very best that it could be. The other day I was out blackberry-ing with Alexander in his push chair & the most peculiar looking Aircraft came over which looked just like a huge toy one, it was so old fashioned. It was very low & at first I thought I saw figures standing between the double wings & holding on to the wires in readiness to jump off. When it arrived closer I could see that there were no figures & that it was English. It made a wonderful Nanny tease & I told her that I put Alexander well out in the open so that he could be plainly seen in his white coat & that I rushed into the hedge & hid! Nanny has to be teased a good deal, she enjoys it. Of course the darling dogs are a very good teasing subject, she thinks I take far too much notice of them & not nearly enough of her babies. She always comes into the library with me after dinner to hear the news & do some knitting. Alexander is to have a scarlet woolly coat made. His blue one looks lovely & I do hope you are not too cold; we can send you some warmer things if you want them.

In haste to get to Banbury & catch the post.

Love from Woman

Darling Honks

We are going to Woman’s next week, my wonderful plan of Birdie going away for two weeks has fallen sadly through because Muv & I have got to go instead. It is awful because she so hates me that life here has become almost impossible. The sitting room is so small & two enormous tables in it belong exclusively to her & if one so much as puts some knitting down on one for a moment chaos reigns because she hies up & shrieks ‘bloody fool’ very loud. I think in some ways she’s better though but she seems to have completely lost her sense of humour & never roars at the funniest thing.

Muv seems always to be in rather a way about me, doing things she doesn’t allow, really I should have thought what with one thing & another there isn’t much point in being seen to as though one was three.

Isn’t it killing about the Jews in Rutland Gate.1

Farve has gone to Southend & taken Margaret the-maid-who-has-a-young-man-who-took-her-to-Ascot-in-a-Rolls-Royce.2 I expect he will have a gay time.

I had lunch with the Wid the other day. She was alone because the Baileys had gone to lunch with the Dulvertons who hadn’t asked the Wid – none of the neighbours do! Mrs McCalmont told me she was very surprised when shopping one morning in Stow she saw an Egyptian figure approach dressed in a cape & turban & said ‘Tell me, what do you think of Dakar?’3 The Baileys have got printed notices all over their house to say ‘There is no gloom in this house’. And the Wid is living there!

I must go & milk my good goat.

Much love from Debo

Dear Cheerless

Well dear I am sorry I haven’t written but I thought my old hen would be bored with long accounts of aching around with everyone you don’t know & you know how you despise my life anyhow.

I spend most of my life in taxis going to & from Sandhurst because Andrew is there learning to be an officer which takes 5 months of appalling hard work & never a night off which you must say is a long time. Philip Toynbee1 is there too & they all like him & are suitably amazed by his filthy habits.

We are going to Woman’s tomorrow which is a great move for me because wherever I go I have to take two dogs, my goat & my pony & cart.

It is wonderful of Esmond to have joined the airforce I do think.

If you ever come across the Kennedys (the ambassador here) do take note of Kick,2 she is a dear girl, I’m sure you’d like her. (Though of course you’d despise her like you do me.)

Well dear, do write.

Best love from Henderson

Darling Bobo

I am using a letter this week to write to Nanny and you, she will send it on to you. I wish I could do it more often, but it is not possible.

How are you darling; I always get your messages from Muv, how I wish I could see you. Perhaps before very long I shall be let free, wouldn’t that be Paradise. If not quite free, what we want more than anything is for Kit and me to be imprisoned together. Please get anyone who sees MPs and so on to press for this. It has never even been suggested that any charge could be brought against either of us or that we have ever done anything illegal.

You can’t imagine what a joy Muv’s visits are to me, please do tell her so. I only wish I could write to her as well, but as I see her I thought she would understand. She brings me such lovely things and does such boring boredoms for me. I am quite clean and comfortable again as we now have hot water to wash in and gas to cook on again.

Isn’t it horrible about Jonathan having an appendix operation – I do hope they will let me out to go & see him. Do write to Desmond if you have time, because when Nanny cuts this part of the letter off all the ends of the words will be teased – however the point of this letter is to say how much I think of you and long to see you. Do write to Tom and thank him so much for going all the way to Brixton, I wish it had not been umsonst [in vain]. It was divine of him.

Do ask Muv to visit Kit the week after next, he would so love it. It was HEAVEN seeing him the other day at the Law Courts.1

All love darling from Nard XXXXXXX

My darling Boud:

We have just been told that we may write one extra letter (for Christmas) so of course I shall use mine for you. You can imagine how much I shall be thinking of you all at Christmas; it will be simply hateful being in jail for it but never mind, next year perhaps everything will be wonderful again. Darling I do hope you are feeling really better; my Christian Scientist friend always asks so much about you, and she spends her entire life praying for people (you know how they do) and dozens of prayers are for you. Aren’t you pleased? Tell Muv, the butter she brought will last ages and it is literally the joy of my life, and do thank her for the eggs and the lovely delicious brioche. Kit writes to say that he hopes they may soon give us better prison conditions, and imprison us together. If we had each other it would make all the difference of course, and if Muv could ask Choiney1 to press for that it would be an immense help.

I do so love the green scarf you made me and I often wear it on my head and look like a mad Turkish lady. I haven’t opened your Xmas pres yet, I am keeping it for the day, of course I won’t be able to write and thank, but I am thrilled about it. Please will you send a message to Nanny, not to hoard food2 (for the babies). I don’t suppose she would but Kit suddenly had a nightmare that she might. Send her and Blor, and everyone and the babies all my love, and Debo, and specially Muv and you. I do hope the boys will spend some of the hols with you, please spoil them from me, and make them eat a lot and get fatter. I get so homesick at times, but perhaps it won’t be much longer now. Tell Muv to get Hansard of December 10th, all about us;3 if she can’t I will send you mine. I am reading Die Jungfrau von Orleans (Schiller) it is so beautiful. If you want a heavenly novel get Goethe’s Wahlverwandtschaften.4 I adored it, and so did Kit. Well goodbye darling, I wish I could write to you more often, but there it is. I think of you every day.

All Christmas love darling from Nardyxxxxxxxxx

P.S. Tell Muv if she gets what looks like a letter from me it will only be dull old rent bill to pay! Wish I cd write to her.

Darling Nard,

Oh, Nard, I WAS surprised to get your lovely letter – I never thought you COULD write!! Oh Nard, I do so HOPE you had a lovely and beautiful Christmas, I prayed about it a terrific lot. Nard, I am going to be confirmed. Of course, I shall be a Christian Scientist, but my wonderful Christian Science lady, Miss Taylor, says I must if it helps me, and it DOES help me, a terrific lot.

Oh Nard, thank you SO much for your lovely pound, I liked it best of all my presents.

Nard, I am in the Choir!! In the church, of course. Aren’t I lucky!!!! I’m afraid all this sounds nonsense to you, only you see how I am SO bored here.

Well, Nard, I am afraid I must stop, you don’t know how slowly I do write!! So goodbye, Nard.

Best love, Nard, from Bobo

Darling Diana

I had no idea I was allowed to write – as I now hasten to do – & thank you for your kind present. I have bought myself some much needed facial condiments with it & am most grateful – actually managed to find a Guerlain lipstick in an obscure chemist’s shop which must have given me the same sensation a bibliophile would have on coming across a 1st folio of Shakespeare.

I sent the Wid a box of soap called Modestes Violettes & she wrote back ‘Coming downstairs in a rather specially sad mood …’

No wonder she is rather specially sad, freezing at Maugersbury & Aunt W[eenie] won’t pick the war over with her – ‘I said I hear that Holland House has quite gone & she said come on let’s have luncheon, much more interesting.’ Can’t you see it.

I saw your little Alexander the other day he is a darling how I wish they were living with me – I had almost forgotten what heaven Nanny is.