19370608 Heather to Betty
8th June 1937. Pax.
Dearest Duckie,
Uncle Gerard pinged, me (pinged is my pet word now, and it means Telephoned, and pinger means suspender, so don't get confused) today and read out your Cable with your Johannesburg address. I took it down in shorthand most beautifully, then typed it out and placed it on Mum's table. Is it fun being in Johannesburg again. I hope it is, and that you are quite happy. It must be rather worrying at times, to wonder which way up or out he is really coming. Bet, I do hope he will be a he I thought I might pray to God to make him a he, but then I thought God would be so Shocked to have me Praying to him, that he might make him into something Most Peculiar.
Anyway, I expect you feel quite safe in Johannesburg, with lots of Specialists and Specialities about, and Nell sounds just fine. Have you any idea how soon it is to be. I mean Might I be a Genuine (I don't call being an aunt to a Rabbit quite genuine, you see) Aunt by the time you get this. I don't understand. I thought it took nine months and one week to hatch a baby. And if the hatching began at the Mount Nelson, then surelye you can't hatch him till the end of July. Several people I know are having races with you, including Beatrice Knight (Frog Holmes's sister), Betty Price (Strover that was) and Jane Plunkett (Thornewill that was).
I went and saw Merial Dalrymple-White that was - Reeve now, as you may remember. She has a fine great fat son with podgy cheeks, of 4 months old, and they live in rather a pleasant flat in Chelsea - fairly near to Patty Clay. I wrote to Patty the other day to ask her where Merial could get a nice Nurse because she hates hers, because she keeps a strict and reserved Silence whenever Merial goes into the Nursery. Patty wrote me such a nice letter back, all friendly and nice. Jolly pleasant of her, seeing as how she never met me. Though of course it might have put her off writing if she had seen what I look like.
Mum of course is marvellous at writing all the news, and will have told you all about Jority, and the New Creation, NUTS, who darling Daddoie quietly bought for me from Sheila McClintock, without my realising! So now I have Two Golden hunters. So I feel I must try and stay in England this winter. I shall send the parentage off to the West Indies where they can be romantic together. But the trouble is I have already heard rumours of Jamaica Jamboree, etc. And instead of only going to the West Indies, and settling down there for a nice peaceful winter, they are going dashing off to South America. So now I am beginning to get really envious, and won't be able to enjoy my hunting at all! Aren't they rogues. Mum said to Dad, now we will go and spend a peaceful two months in Bermuda. “Two Months,” expostulated Dad, “I couldn't stay for two months in one place. What would there be to do?” “You can paint and sketch,” said Mum. “Yes, but,” said Dad, “We must move about too.” So there's no knowing where they will be getting off to. Rio de Janeiro was included on the Itinerary which arrived from Thos. Cooks' this morning.
Life is very sweet with me, and I'm loving being here - when I am here, if you know what I mean. I've been to lots of parties in London, and Ann and everybody keep begging me to go and stay with them, but so far I've been far too busy here. Oh, I had an absolutely price-
- 2 -
less letter the other day from Ronnie Holman. Do you remember him? He was a Cambridge Rover and was on the Adriatic Cruise, or was it Calgaric. Anyway, he is now married (not the one you thought I might - he put!) and is a schoolmaster near St James's at a little boys school. And he and his Worser Half have issued me what they call a formal invitation to go and stay. I will send you the letter one day when you are less busy, and it will make you laugh.
Whitmore is over in England, and came down here, just for one hurried night, and was very sweet. He had a huge great Nash motor car (What he called his Jew's Rolls), which he has now sent out to Johannesburg, to be ready there for him when he gets back. He sails from here on June 18th, in your ship, the Dunnottar Castle. He asked me to a very nice party in London the other night. He can throw good parties, can't he. They always go off so successfully, and he seems to get people who sort of fit in well with one another, if you know what I mean. This other evening there were six of us, and it really was lovely. The other two girls besides myself were both from Johannesburg, (marvellous tripewriting I'm afraid) one was called Mollie MacKenzie and I can't remember the other. And one of the men's names I can't remember, but he was somewhat Jewish, but very amusing, and pleasant, and the third man was Anne Usher's brother. Do you remember her? She is foaling at the moment too, I believe. Her brother is called Hugh or Hume or is it Home, or something rather peculiar. Boggis Rolfe (I couldn't think of any name but Boris Karloff all the evening)! He was most intriguing and unordinary. We went to an Opera, but Boris Karloff, when he wasn't saying I'm so hungry, was fast asleep . So after the Opera we dashed to the Dorchester for a vast supper. But of course when we got there the Cabaret was just coming on and the lights were turned down, and of course we weren't given our supper till the show was over:
Duckie, did you ever get a pair of Pantie stays I sent you by airmail from Spencers? They looked so small I didn't think they were even big enough to fit Twm. But Aunt Violet Clay said they were what you wanted, and as she didn't know where to get them, and I tried one or two places in London too, then finally, in desperation and despair I trotted in to Spencers, and they said they would get them for me. So they did That - but I don't know if they were the right size!
Mum and Dad are both In the Pink, Puce, etc. Mum has every Saturday this summer booked up, doing Rallies. And soon Dad begins his round, and I shall trot him round in Jamroll, arriving just in time for Rallies, and then swishing him away again quickly afterwards, before he gets landed in for any Mayoral Tea Parties, civic Receptions, and the like. Then at the beginning of Aug. or rather at the end of July we all trickle off to Holland for the Jamboree. I told the parentage that we should take Jamroll over, and that all the Scouts would appreciate seeing him being used; and they thought that a brilliant Plan. But now we hear that a V8 has been put at our disposal, plus Dutch, but English speaking shuvver, for the whole time that we are over there - which is a Good Thing really. Oh hell, I've got so much to tell you. I don't know when I shall ever have time to do it all! Things like meeting the de
- 3 -
Chassirons at the H.H. point-to-point, and Lila and Moly Molson fron Vancouver, coming to stay, etc. A letter from Kath McCathie to say The Hermitage was burnt down, a letter from "Swiftie", the M.F.H. in Kenya, Penny's mother dead, Yvonne Tomlin engaged, Claire Orr engaged and then unengaged, all in the space of a fortnight, etc., etc. ! Such a muddle of things.
I don't know if Mum tells you all the sort of things like Shawgm nearly drowning in the Wey, Prince Gustav Adolf and Princess Sybilla coming to stay here (they were so sweet) going over to Foxlease and getting Mrs Popham to come over there from Lymington to see us. What all the new maids are like, etc. (The new cook is called Mrs Hitchin (Mrs 'Ithcin to Annie!) and is my sister - has red hair. The parlourmaid is batty and smells. Ivy and Muriel are still the same. The kitchen maid, Gertie is tall and fair and pleasant. 'Itchin loves Bong, and gave him a bath yesterday - a great improvement to him.
I've got a new boy friend called Ernest Howarth. He's not a boy friend really, but he asks me to lunch, and to cocktails and is very rich but rather small, but quite amusing. He says he's got an Alvis Speed 20, but I haven't seen or been in it yet.
David was over here the other day, just came all the way from St Julian's to get a free lunch, and then went back again! He's very sweet David. And his two M.G.’s (he with his two M.G.'s is like me with my two golden steeds) are in good form, and racing at Brooklands next week. He's promised to take me for a crack round Brooklands one day soon. I know I shall be absolutely putrifiecl, because it's terribly rough, and quite easy to jump over the top of the banking!
I played in a Ladies Tennis Tournament at the Parsons' today, and, believe it or not, I jolly nearly won, me and my partner. We only lost by two games! I'm so proud of myself, I really believe I must be better than I thought! Mum gave me a Racquet as a birthuthday present as Dad had already given me the Horse of the year! Gipsy Moth, by the way, did not succumb to the love of King's Cross, and is not in foal. Isn't she naughty. Apparently she prefers to remain a virgin.
I thought of something else I must tell you, just now, and damn it, I've gone and forgotten. It was something awfully interesting too. Damn.
Rosalind is in good form, and comes over here after every weekend, to help Mum get off all her letters to whatever place she has just been to. She has lent me her field for Jority and Nuts (or Noetz) to go and eat in, and I rode them down there the other day, and left them for a week. Rosalind and I rode them home the other evening. It was so heavenly, and we came all along back ways and green lanes and. We enjoyed it so much and ambled along so slowly that it took us 3 hours. We got back here at 9 p.m. And there was poor Daddoie still waiting for his dinner, because the parlourmaid is so batty, that she would not let him have his dinner till we were all there to have it together.
Oh yes, I've just remembered, by looking along the line of invitation cards I have on the top of my desk. One of them is from the de Chairs inviting "The Ladies Heather and Betty Baden-Powell" to the wedding of their daughter. So when I replied, I put that the Hon. Heather (just to larn them) was deligthted to accept, but that the Hon.
- 4 -
"Betty regretted that she was obliged to decline because she is now Mrs Clay and lives in the wilds of Africa."
Duckie, what is 62 Valley Road? It's not the Blankenbergs is it? Is it an 'orspital? I hope it's nice anyway, and that you are being nicely looked after, and feel quite happy and well and that G. will be
able to come down to you. Get Roy to fetch him in an aeroplane!
I met Tommy Rose at a cocktail party at the Gargoyle the other day. He was awfully nice, and came and talked, and we conversed merrily about Johannesburg and the Rand airport and Roy. He has got a "gin" voice!
I'm going to Lady Bailey's dance with Michael Harrap on Thursday. They've also asked me to dinner - frightfully up-stage with Duchess of Gloucester dining there too.
Jean Harrap has just come back from South America and Bermuda. Awful bad luck for her, about 3 weeks before she was meant to come home she fell off her bike (everyone bikes about in Bermuda where there are no cars) skidding on a tram line, and broke her arm, and has had to come home with it all in Plaster of Paris. She came home in the same ship as Helen Mackay who had been wintering in Bermuda too. Helen asked after you today (she was also playing in the tennis tournament)
I haven't told you of half the marvellous things we've been doing in this Coronation Year - State Ball for instance, and The Coronation Procession itself, and the jovial party we had in the streets on Coronation night, and the Naval Review. I must just tell you a smattering about them, in case you'd like to know. Though of course I expect you were able to listen in over the Radio quite nicely. Well, the Coronation was marvellous, but the day was beastly cold, and rained hard in the afternoon. Mum and Dad were in the Peers' Stand. I was on Constitution Hill in the Scout H.Q. stand with Mrs Wade and millions of Pip Powers, Waltons, Impeys, etc., all round. I gave my other ticket to Malcolm Galloway who is most amusing, and was a Cambridge Rover., and is now Assistant to Tubby Clayton (Toc H) and trying to become a school-master at West-downs. In the night time we joined about 10 other people and dashed about, climbing In to people's taxis at one door, and out at the other - all the traffic was practically at a standstill on account of all the surging about in the streets. We sailed along The Mall, linked arms, and not letting anybody through. We ring-a-ring-a roses-ied Policemen, who laughed and joined in! and we shouted for the King; 'We want the King, we want the King" outside the Palace, which looked too lovely all floodlit. We weren't there actually when the King and Queen did come out, but Mum and Dad were there to see them.
Then for the Naval Review Mum and Dad were the guests of the Government on board the Strathmore, which liner sailed along behind the Royal Yacht, all up and down between the lines of battleships lying there at Spithead. Gosh, how that huge great white liner dwarfed the Navy! I went with Val Hulton Sams to Fort Gilkicker, which was a marvellous place to see from. I met millions of people I knew there, including Lorna Atkinson, and David Milne Home. The illuminations were somewhat disappointing. The day before the Review we were invited out to tea (no alcohol allowed on U.S. Navy ships) on board the "New York" - and gosh, they were awful! The Officers were so common and terrible and not
- 5 -
the least proud of their Ship. The men were all right, and were most amusing, and typically Fred Astaire film touch about them! I asked one of them why he wore his little white hat, right over his nose, while his friend wore his right on the back of his head. “Oh, they're the cissies, who wear their hats back there,” he said. And cramming his own right down over his face, and stickinrg his jaw, being very bull-doggine, he said “We're the Men of War. "
Then the State Ball was a most marvellous sight, with all the gorgeous uniforms. We managed to squeeze ourselves into a corner of the throne room, and watched their Majesties and all the royal party process in, and take their seats, and God Save the King was played as they entered. Then the music began, and the Queen set off with King Farouk, and the King with his sister (may I bring my sister) and Prince Gustav Adolf (who danced beautifully) with Duchess of Gloucester, and so on. And they all danced in a little penned off place, with all us crowds of guests staring at them, as though they were horses being trotted out at Tatts! It was fun though, watching them, and seeing who danced with whom. And amazing thinking “Am I really looking at the King and Queen?” (he was wearing a Kilt). “And is this really Princess Marina, whom I could slap on the back if I stuck out my arm?” ! Then we watched them Process out again to the supper room, and then we drifted down to the communal supper room, and ate, and drank iced coffee and champagne, and talked to people like the Godleys, and then called for Jamroil and went home. But there was one rather lovely scene in the Hall of Buckingham Palace while we were sitting there waiting for our Barouche. As the cars arrive at the door, an Invisible Broadcast Voice shouted out the name. And just before it said Jamroll, it said Lady Allendale. And then you should have seen the stamped and headlong dash of the entire (or what remains) B-P family, straight across the big hall, exclaiming “Bear, Bear!” But of course when we got to the door we discovered it wasn't the right Lady at all, but only the Dowager Lady Allendale! And of course, no Bear.
Well, I suppose I'd better stop. I really only meant to send off just one to say I hope you are feeling quite happy, and bung-ho, and mind it really is Robin, though of course it would still be pretty clever of you even if it turns out to be Gillian. I suppose X-ray isn't yet quite strong, enough in its eye-sight to see which! Write to me if you have tine, in between knitting woolly sox, but I should imagine you must be pretty busy!
Miles of love and be good, and careful, and get a pram!
Heather
Oh, I forgot to say I got your blank checque all right; thanking the darling to think of it. I don't think we'll need it.
When you have finished with this letter,
just press Ctrl F4 to return whence you came.
