1 John Huston and Darryl F. Zanuck, director and producer respectively
of the film The Roots of Heaven, for which PLF was writing the
screenplay.
9 August 1959
Edensor House, Bakewell
Darling Paddy,
I was pleased to get your letter and to know you have not departed this world…
I did once have millions of things to tell, like sitting next to John Huston
one night at dinner. My word he is awful. I can’t think how you spent so
long near him without smashing him. He said ghoulishly embarrassing things
like We Irishmen ought to get together. Well he’s American and I’m English,
but I didn’t like to enlarge on that…
I saw a good bit of Ann Fleming¹. I truly love her & kept going to dinner,
sometimes in the wrong clothes, like when she took us all to a recep. at the
Tate after dinner. I didn’t know it was grand & went in a cotton frock &
when I got there found all the women in dresses to the ground & pearls. Then
we got to the Tate & to my horror Cake² advanced on unseen feet in crinoline
& diamonds glittering from top to toe & I was in her path like a rabbit & a
snake & she made the sign to go & talk to her & it was wicked work with the
dread wrongness of get-up & Sir J Rothenstein³ looking at one as though one
was a v small bit of dirt & then her saying “isn’t that wall lovely” meaning
a lot of daubs by famous painters & me being speechless because of being
honest & after a bit I heard myself saying “Oh dear now I’m stuck” which of
course was v v rude indeed.
That’s the sort of thing that’s been happening, nought of great interest.
The children are here, very tall, very lazy & very nice. Emma is in revolt
about most things but that is the disease of her age I think (16).
I am engrossed with Chatsworth, v boring for everyone else…
Much love – & send a P.C. or so – from
Debo
1 Social and political hostess, wife of author Ian Fleming. 2
DD’s nickname for the Queen Mother, which DD gave her after being lastingly
impressed by her enthusiasm at a wedding when the cake was cut. 3
Director of the Tate gallery. 4 DD’s elder daughter, Emma Cavendish.
10 November 1959
Hairdressers
Darling Paddy,
I can’t quite think what’s been happening except that Chatsworth is now like a
job, 9–6 with an hour for lunch, so there is no time for anything except
being horrid to people on the telephone (radiator people & that kind of
thing) & suddenly it’s become November & shooting is toward…
Next day
Train 11 November
Today I had a Business Lunch with Lucian [Freud], to arrange about him
coming to Chatsworth to paint the walls of the bathroom which belongs to the
bedroom which is stuffed all up to the ceiling with Sabine Women being
tweaked. It is Horrific, so whatever Lu does will go nicely. When we got on
to the price we both got rather nervous, so the Business part… was a failure.
Much love
Debo
17 November 1960
Chatsworth, Bakewell, Train to London – Pity
Darling Pad,
…Things here are exactly the same. It is November, thank God, but not the 28th
day of yet. Andrew has got a job & a pay packet, an office, a phone and a
BOSS. Did you ever know five more unexpected things. The result is
Happiness, Fury at having speeches mucked about by the aforesaid boss, & the
High Commissioner for Ghana looming for lunch at Chatsworth on Sunday. Very
odd, & very good really as he loves the regularity of offices and the civil
servants who make tea for him.
I think it was just in the nick myself, as he was killing himself with rushing
about England ridding himself of guilt by pace.
I’m dying to meet his top boss, feller called Duncan Sandys, because everyone
who knows him loathes him. He is a tiger for work (0 else to do I guess; you
know, lives in Surrey & doesn’t hunt).¹ He is Interested in Women but
probably for only one horrid thing. We’ll soon see because I’m going to have
lunch with him in a minute or so. I’ll report.
The well-known French lady writer is in England. It’s so nice having her & I
hope the book² is making her rich…
Lady Mosley³ is also about & with those two, Lady Redesdale & Woman we had a
very fine unveiling of a memorial thing to my Dad in Swinbrook Church. We
cried a good deal & laughed even more of course. It’s rare for four of us to
meet….
Love to all, masses to you
Debo
1 DD is quoting the 10th Duke of Beaufort, who could not imagine what
one of his tenants did all day: “Pointless man, the feller doesn’t even
hunt.” 2 Nancy Mitford’s last novel, Don’t Tell Alfred.
Nancy lived in France at the time. 3 Lady Diana Mosley, DD’s fourth
eldest sister, wife of Sir Oswald Mosley. 4 Pamela Mitford, DD’s
second eldest sister, nicknamed “Woman” by her family.
18 January 1961
4 Chesterfield Street, London W1
Darling Pad,
A slightly ghoulish prospect looms today. Andrew & I bugger off to America for
Jack Kennedy’s coronation¹ – back Sunday I’m happy to say. I can’t tell you
how queer it is getting a visa – they send you a jolly invitation from The
President to his crowning & then proceed to ask you all sorts of cheeky
questions & insist on seeing you to make sure you’re not a Communist. Well
how can they know just by looking at one’s ugly mug. On one of the many
forms was printed ORIGIN & the clerk wrote CAUCASIAN. I asked Look here
what’s that & he said without a flicker of anything Means you’re white…
We’re staying at the English embassy – I’ll report…
Sincerely (practising for America)
D Devonshire
1 DD had known the Kennedys since Joseph P. Kennedy, ambassador in
London 1938-40, brought his family to live at Princes Gate where they were
neighbours of the Mitfords.
25 January 1961
Chatsworth, Bakewell
Darling Pad,
Two new bodies to add to the list of worshipped – a sweet ambassador called
Sir Harold Caccia, and Jack Kennedy.
I lay beside Mr Gaitskell¹ for six happy hours in the plane to London &
scraped his bottom (strange expression from a French friend who is not too
good at English describing confidences received on a journey) & we became
vague friends.
He was a Friend in Tweed is a Friend Indeed in Washington when our Austin
Princess (1950) broke coming away from the Inaugural Ball at a place called
The Armoury which is a vast hall about twice as big as Olympia & was the
venue for many a Presidential festivity last week.
The last day of our fantastic outing we were taken to the Senate & Andrew was
led into the Chamber… & before you could say Robert Kee, two Senators were
making speeches of welcome to him. I was sweating with fright in case he
would make one back but thank goodness he only bowed. Good old Andrew.
Jack Kennedy was marvellous, chiefly because he was so marvellous to us &
summoned me from the back of his stand to sit with him during the Parade &
it fuddled the commentators on the telly as they only know politicians &
film stars & when strange English ladies loom they are stumped…
Jack asked me what I do all day. Stumped. I asked him if he was going to see
Uncle Harold² – he’d never heard of him. He is lovely – face & hair look as
if it had been dipped in the same sand…
The Gala (seats 1000 dollars, for party funds!) was a literal galaxy of stars,
Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, [Jimmy] Durante, Nat King Cole, the kind of
music was SO NICE compared with the usual ghouls, viz. Willie Walton. I
appreciated.
At the ball Jack Kennedy climbed over seven rows of cinema seats to say
goodbye, to the astonishment of the people next to us & who were nicer from
then on.
He is surrounded like a queen bee by photographers, detectives, nexts of kin &
fans so if he breaks out of the phalanx of people to come & talk to ONE, one
nearly faints with pleasure & surprise…
Much love
Debo
1 Hugh Gaitskell, Leader of the Labour Party. 2 Harold
Macmillan. Married Lady Dorothy Cavendish, Andrew Devonshire’s aunt, in
1920, and was called “Uncle Harold” by DD.
16 February 1961
Metsovo, Epirus, NW Greece (Feast of SS Pamphilius and Seleucus, Martyrs)
Darling Debo,
I was impressed by your coronation trip (did you get a mug?), and so were
others I imparted the proud news to. It was a wonderful description of J.
Kennedy. He seems to have done jolly well so far. I wish he weren’t so much
younger than one. You do write good letters, you know, you really do, in
that whizz-bang planchette style, hitting the nail on the head again and
again without even looking. Please persevere through the coming decades,
only another forty years or so, if all goes well…
Heaps of love
Paddy
28 October 1962
[British Embassy, Washington]
Darling Pad,
Several tons of rubble I’m afraid.¹ It’s an horrible surprise par excellence
because the poor old Loved One² is vaguely taken up with his work instead of
messing about with one…
I’ve been to dinner at the White Ho twice. Jackie Kennedy was there. She is a
queer fish. Her face is one of the oddest I ever saw. It is put together in
a very wild way…
Much love
Debo
