passed. I could hardly believe the photographs (all mine went down to the bottom of the Thames when our houseboat sank on Chelsea Reach) – especially of Mrs Breakwell – As I was going home on the bus I remembered her ringing up my father to tell him to come to a Greek restaurant to meet Cyril Falls (how did he come into it?) – ‘It’s a Greek name – D-E.M.O.S, DEMOS’ – ‘yes’, said my father sadly ‘I’m familiar with the word.’ However, I’m writing not really to open the endless store of anecdotes but to thank you and say how much I enjoyed myself – only I was sorry not to see a little more of William-
love,
Mops.
76 Clifton Hill
London, NW8
[postcard]
15 January 1983
Thankyou so much for Charleston material, on which I most sincerely think you’ve done wonders, I wish you absolutely all success in spite of my reservations about some of the personnel.* Next Sat (22nd) I’m going to Somerset and could I think find a copy of a play written by one of my uncles** about L. Strachey, M. Keynes and when they were all at Cambridge (c. 1910), from which you might take a short extract, if that’s not too remote, I’m not quite sure what kind of thing is wanted really, I’ll send it unless you say no (and if it hasn’t mouldered away in the damp wet country) – love Mops
Theale Post Office Stores
Wedmore, Somerset
22 January [1983]
My dear Ham,
Alas, I can’t find any of my notebooks at Theale at the moment – they were in the garage, which is in the process of being turned into a hen-roost – so Dilly’s play (which is very good really) isn’t to hand, but I’m not sure you were very taken by the idea anyway! – I enclose a couple of paragraphs in the hope of their being of use, but shan’t of course mind a bit if they’re not wanted – there’s always the WPB,† as my grandfather used to say –
love Mops
P.T.O.
I don’t for a moment say that Q. Bell* &c are rich, but I do say that they’ve turned their family, and connections, into an industry, with the help of Michael Holroyd (who is always so kind and polite to us all) – and I think it allowable to feel that they might support Charleston out of all the £££ and dollars that they have made out of digging out and publishing their family skeletons. That’s all I meant! But I think there are some others who think as I do. –
76 Clifton Hill, NW8
31 January [1986]
My dear Ham,
Do send me Quentin B.’s Bloomsbury and I’ll write something (how long?) in case it’s any use to the Newsletter – only I can’t guarantee to be rude as he’s such a good writer – I think it was awe, rather than hatred, that we shabby long-ago Georgians felt – and I did think, although this of course isn’t something to be mentioned in the Newsletter that Nigel Nicolson in particular has made enough money out of his ma’s old letters discovered by chance in the attic, &c, to pay for Charleston without any public subscription, but I’ve come to see I was wrong.
I do hope PEN** is allowed to come in the summer, though hitherto Francis King† has always shepherded us in a large coach, and I don’t know whether Michael Holroyd would be prepared to do that – perhaps he would. We’ll see!
Unfortunately, since the Arts Council subsidy was withdrawn, PEN has to spend half its time raising £££, like everyone else.
Must now summon up energy to go and see new grandchild, who has arrived in Holland, from Nicaragua, and I do so very much want to, only it’s so cold –
love
Mops
76 Clifton Hill
London, NW8
21 February [1986]
Dear Ham,
I didn’t mean to criticise the Alpine Gallery exhibition – I only thought, & still have to think, that Freshwater* is rubbish, but then it was only intended for home consumption – it was a very good exhibition, very well hung in a difficult gallery not too well suited to it, and I was only sorry to miss you and Penny.
While on the subject of criticism, I’ve sent a notice of Bloomsbury, but if you don’t like it do throw it away, or cut bits out. I’m glad to have the new edition anyway, although I do think it was disimproved as they say in N. Ireland.
If you use it, and want a bit about me, could you say that I’m a biographer and novelist (a word I still prefer to ‘fictioneer’). Burne-Jones is the only biography I’ve done that is of any kind of interest to the Friends of C., I imagine, as after all he did paint Mrs Stephen pregnant with Vanessa in one of his Annunciations. That came out in 1975, and then I was given the Booker award in 1979 for Offshore. What a long time ago all this was. I’ve got a new novel about Florence coming out this autumn, I think – that is if Collins survives all its frightful present disputes.
I must tell you that when we went to Rodmell some of the PEN members were very disappointed, feeling that V. Woolf ‘couldn’t have done very well’. They expected it to be a house like Barbara Cartland’s –
love, Mops
Best wishes for the cellars.
27a Bishop’s Road, N6
29 October [1988]
My dear Ham,
Thankyou so much for taking time to write what, I daresay, is your 101st letter of the day – I quite agree about the judges,** and Michael Foot* drifted alarmingly in his (supposedly) summing-up speech, telling us repeatedly that Walter Scott was ‘another conservative’. Also the stately corridors of the Guildhall were lined with police, as Salman R.** claimed that a threat had been made against his life and he was in imminent danger, still there were plenty of people there and Ria and I enjoyed ourselves very much and were taken about in a car from the Collins fleet, for the last time I fear. All this is quite good for business. But now I have to write another novel.
I’m glad that the envelope sale went so well, but now they’ll expect you to produce another brilliant notion, you’ll see.
Tommy feels he would like a tortoise, but I suppose the spring would be the best time
much love to you and Penny
Mops
27a Bishop’s Road
London, N6
26 January [1992]
Dear Ham and Penny,
Thankyou so very much in the first place for a splendid lunch, although I only discovered at the last moment that the rabbit was done with chocolate, in an improvement surely on the Mexican style. – And it was a great treat to meet Katharine – who may well not spell her name like that at all, so forgive me – she was so interesting, and