5. FLORENCE MACASKIE AS A
CHILD: 1925-31
Florence Macaskie
(1914-2008) was the daughter of Nick Macaskie, K.C. and his wife Jane Tuohy. Florence
was the eldest of five children. Nick was a successful barrister and the family
lived well. The children had a nanny and the parents went abroad on holiday two
or three times a year (children were not taken abroad by their parents in those
days, although the whole family did go every year for a summer holiday at
Arromanches on the north coast of France). This letter was written by the
11-year old Florence to her parents when they were away on a skiing trip and
gives a good idea of the life led by Florence and her sister Jane (aged 7) and
brother Jimmy (then a baby). Both their parents had numerous siblings, so the
children were well supplied with aunts, uncles and cousins.
Nick and Jane Macaskie c.1914
Letter 5.1.
Florence Macaskie in London to her parents Nick and Jane Macaskie in St Moritz,
December 1925.
Dear Mommy and
Daddy,
I hope you arrived
safely at St Moritz. Jimmy is much better today and Nanny took him out for half
an hour in his pram. We went to lunch and tea at Auntie Dorothy’s and Penelope¹
had a dolls pram and dolls for Xmas. Brian and Diana² were there and we played
all sorts of games. Brian had an awfully nice gun and we built a fort with
Penelope’s bricks then we took shots at it until we knocked it down. There were
three ladies there to lunch and a little girl.
We have had some more
Christmas presents this morning, one from Josephine [Paterson, an old family
friend] and one from Nanny and then we went to Auntie Dorothy’s and she had a
present there for us, it was from Uncle Sands [Macaskie]. Jane got a lovely
little fan all made of Pheasants' Feathers. And I got a very nice Shetland
scarf. Diana got one the same only a different colour. I am sorry to say that I
have only written two letters and I have not practised once but I am going to
today. Granny³ is much better and she got up this afternoon and I think Awken³
is going to depart for St Moritz on Monday next.
Yvonne O’Neil has got
mumps and so we can’t go to her party but she is going to have it later. We had
a lovely time at Diana Dingli’s party. I won a box of Turkish delight for
musical bumps and I have eaten it nearly all now so you need not expect any when
you come back from St Moritz. But we have heaps of sweets and other boxes of
Chocolates so you needn’t worry about not getting any.
I wanted Jane to write
a letter in her own writing but she won’t so she has dictated to me the
following:
Dear
Mommy,
I hope you are very well
and have you been doing any skating and has the ice broken at all. And have you
been trying the Outside edge. I have counted my presents and they come to
twenty-one Altogether.
Much love from
Jane.
Toodleloooo.
P.S. Don’t forget to R.S.V.P. this letter or you
won’t get another.
Good Bye.
1000 X X from us all.
¹ Dorothy Cunningham Brown, née Macaskie, was one of Nick Macaskie’s sisters. She
had one daughter, Penelope (later Windeler), who was some years younger than
Florence.
² Brian and Diana Gallagher were the children of another of Nick Macaskie’s
sisters. Diana was an exact contemporary of Florence’s and she saw a lot of both
of them. Diana married Patrick Lane, a diplomat. Flavia was a contemporary of
their daughter Nicola, with whom she stayed in Venice when Patrick was British
Consul there.
³ “Granny” was Jane Macaskie’s widowed
mother and “Awken” was Jane Macaskie’s younger sister Dolores
Tuohy, “Awken” being Florence’s childish misprounuciation of “aunt”. Being the
youngest, Awken was left to look after her mother and never
married.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Florence as a teenager
The
family lived first at 48 Pembroke Road in Kensington in “The Red House”, a
four-storey red-brick Victorian Gothic building with leaded windows and a glass
and wrought iron canopy over the front steps (it was later destroyed in the
blitz). In 1931, after the birth of the twins Nicola and Claudia, they moved to
27 Kensington Square, a huge five-storey mansion that had once been a school.
Before the 1939-45 war, they had six servants living in, cook, kitchenmaid,
parlourmaid, housemaid, nanny and nursery maid. Jane never learned to cook –
although she got the cook to teach her to make mayonnaise to have with the cold
meats that the cook used to leave out for their dinner on Sunday evening. But
she was an active supervisor of the household. The Macaskies entertained a lot
and were well known for their parties.
Florence was first at school at the
Convent of the Assumption in Kensington Square, where she acquired a reputation
for being thoroughly rebellious. Jane Macaskie believed that the best education
for girls was to learn languages (she herself had been sent as a teenager to
Freiburg to learn German, living with a German-speaking family and attending a
convent as a day-girl). In October 1929, therefore, when she was just 15,
Florence was sent off to a German convent school in Baden-Baden for a year to
learn German, and then to a convent in Florence for another year to learn
Italian. She did learn both languages fluently, and seems from the
correspondence to have been happy enough, but she chafed against the strict life
of the convents.
SCHOOL IN
BADEN-BADEN
Letter 5.2.
Nick Macaskie at the Savoy Hotel Univers, Basel (on the way back from leaving
Florence at her convent), to his daughter Florence Macaskie at the Convent of
the Holy Sepulchre, Römerplatz 12, Baden-Baden, 3 October
1929.
My darling Florence,
Your mother says I must write something you can read. I will. See how
perfectly I write. Long shall I remember my sweet Florence waving me farewell
from the steps of the convent. I love you, I kiss you, and I bless you, and I
hope and pray that you will be a brave good girl. Remember, my sweet,
that you are Scotch and English and Irish with all the good qualities of all
three of these great races. When you are feeling depressed and lonely, as I was
wont to be sometimes when I was your age, try to be brave and to keep a stiff
upper lip.
When we left you and got into the train, I slept like a pig, but your poor
mother kept awake and I expect she thought of you; so did I, both in my dreams
and when I was awake. Try, my dearest, and work a little and make friends with
some of the nice girls at your school. At first it will be a little difficult,
but not for long. A long time ago, when I was sent by myself, a poor shrinking,
nervous youth like yourself, to Belgium, I rather hated it but soon I made
friends and very soon I liked it well.
Your mother and I went and had dinner this evening at a restaurant called
I believe Schützenhaus, where we had a very good dinner and talked of you and
wished you were with us. I shall always wish you are with us as long as I live,
because I love you dearly; but such things as school and later on perhaps a
husband as bad as I am will take you away, leaving me just a wonderful longing
for you. …
I loved your convent. I thought the nuns were dears and, just because you
love us, I am sure you will try to please them.
Your loving Daddy
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------.
Nick and Jane Macaskie
continued their journey home via Paris, where they had an encounter with
royalty, as both of them recounted in separate letters to their daughter. The
King they met was Don Jaime de Borbon y de Borbon-Parma, Duke of Madrid
(1870-1931), the unsuccessful Carlist claimant to the Spanish throne under the
name of James III and “legitimist” claimant to the throne of France under the
name of James I, also known in France as Duke of Anjou. He was educated at
Beaumont College in Old Windsor, and had a military career in a Guards regiment
of the Russian Army. When the Macaskies met him, he was retired and divided his
time between a castle in Austria and a flat in Paris. His sister Beatrice had
married Prince Fabrizio Massimo, a member of an extremely ancient Roman family.
Letter 5.3.
Nick Macaskie at the Hotel Elysée-Bellevue, 2 rue Montaigne, Paris, to Florence
Macaskie at the Convent of the Holy Sepulchre, Römerplatz 12,
Baden-Baden,
5 October
1929.
My darling little Florence,
Last night Jaime Lasuen [an old Spanish friend of the Macaskies] invited
us to dine and, when we got to the restaurant, he was waiting at the door to
tell us that His Majesty was there! I had been dreading all the time that we
would have been invited to meet this King about whom we had heard so much. He is
the brother of Princess Massimo. However, he was a very nice old thing and did
all the talking himself in various languages.
He was at school at Beaumont and wants to visit it again and ask for a
half-holiday for the boys. Today he honoured us by lunching with us! And if he
comes to London he is going to honour us again! Daddy is feeling very proud, as
you can imagine, at having given lunch to a King!
There is a motor show on here just opposite the hotel and we have
wonderful illuminations at night; even the fountains are lit up. It is much more
gorgeous than the motor show at Olympia, but I absolutely refuse to go inside as
I know nothing about motors and Daddy knows very little more than I do. …
We are off tomorrow [Sunday] afternoon, so I cannot write to you again
until Monday. I am dying to hear how you are getting on and how you like it
all.
Lots of love, darling,
Mommy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.4.
Nicholas Macaskie at the Hotel Elysée-Bellevue, 2 rue Montaigne, Paris, to
Florence Macaskie at the Convent of the Holy Sepulchre,
Römerplatz 12, Baden-Baden, 5 October
1929.
My beloved Florence,
I am getting satiated with Royalty, and Bourbon at that, which is after
all among the fruitiest and rarest in Europe. Last night we dined with
Monseigneur Don Jaime and today he lunched with me in the fruity, veggy and
smelly atmosphere of les Halles, the Covent Garden of Paris. The restaurant was
good Normandy cooking, old cider and older Calvados liqueur which he chose, but
your conservative, democratic father is not made for the musty forms and manners
of the Court of an out-of-work King. He was quite nice, rather elderly, not
unintelligent but somehow out of joint with the great world as it goes daily
round.
Your mother and I came back to the hotel a little exhausted about 5.30 to
read and to think a little about our dear Florence and to write a little to her.
Already we are three days nearer to seeing you, my sweet, and probably looking
forward to seeing you even more than you are us.
We are just going out to dinner and then on to a play called Marius [by
Marcel Pagnol], to which we were recommended by Baron Ginsbourg¹ whom you may
remember seeing at 51 [illegible] and whom we met again this morning as we
walked sedately in the Champs Elysées. Tomorrow we skip across the Channel and I
begin to work again and shall go on working until I see my darling Florence
again.
All my love, my sweet, and many kisses from
your
Daddy.
¹ Unidentified, but presumably a member of the
Russian-Jewish Ginsbourg family – Baron Horace Ginsbourg was the best known; he
was a wealthy St Petersburg banker and philanthropist and leader of the Jewish
community in Russia before the Russian revolution. The family was dispossessed
by the Bolsheviks and members of it probably emigrated to
Paris.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.5.
Jane Macaskie at 48 Pembroke Road, London W.8, to Florence Macaskie at the
Convent of the Holy Sepulchre, Römerplatz 12, Baden-Baden, 7 October
1929.
My darling little Florence,
I was so glad to get your letter this afternoon and it came by air-post, I
see. Of course you can have an egg for supper every night – two if you like.
Will you say that I wish it, or is it necessary for me to write specially? I am
very glad to hear that your room must be kept tidy. I hope it will have a
lasting effect after you come home. Also, I think it is an excellent idea
mending your own stockings. I expect you will pick up my ladders [in her
stockings] for me when you come back.
We crossed over yesterday evening in the most awful storm. You will be
sorry to hear that your poor Mama was sea-sick in spite of Mothersill [a
sea-sickness remedy] for the first time in nearly 20 years. But most people were
much sicker than I was. Daddy was one of the few people on board who survived
without being ill. Luckily, we had one of the big new boats and it came in up to
time and there was plenty of room for everyone, even to be ill. A dark dago
gentleman tried to pinch my basin but I opened my eyes just in time and stopped
him. Some foolish people who left their Handgepäck [hand luggage] on
the top deck and had it washed overboard.
Yesterday, we changed back to winter time and Daddy and I forgot about it
and hurried off to go to 10 o’clock Mass because the 11 o’clock is high, and
found on coming out of the church that we had been to the nine o’clock instead.
Imagine my rage and disappointment.
Please get some soap. Ask M. Bernharda [probably a senior nun] to buy you
a box. I know it is dear in Germany and I would have provided you with some had
I known you would want it. Jane is very envious of the lizards [in the convent
garden] and hopes you will bring one home. I hope you won’t bother. Jane has a
stye and sends her love. Jimmy sends a big kiss and says how are the lizards in
the garden.
Lots of love, darling,
Mommy
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.6.
Jane Macaskie at 48 Pembroke Road, Kensington W.8, to Florence Macaskie in
Baden-Baden, 9 November 1929.
My darling Florence,
Thanks for your letter which came last night. I am delighted to hear you
have been put in such a high class. It is so much better to have to work to keep
up with a high class than to slack in an easy one. … I think you must already
have learnt to understand quite a lot of German to be put into such a high class
so soon.
Of course you can have your hair washed – the
sooner the better. I hope for the sake of the sanitary conditions of the school
that you have not awaited for this permission! You might arrange to have it done
once a month. …
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.7.
Jane Macaskie at 48 Pembroke Road, London W.8, to Florence Macaskie in
Baden-Baden, 13 November 1929.
My dear Florence,
I have just received a very bad report about you which made Daddy and me
very sad, very disgusted and very ashamed of you! We know from experience that
it is true, because it contains all the same complaints to which we are so
accustomed and of which we are so heartily sick and tired from [the convent
school in] Kensington all these years – continued disobedience to rules, causing
the other girls to break them and do silly things behind the nuns’ backs – I
didn’t know this last was your speciality – and indifference when spoken to,
which has apparently been done repeatedly. Apart from the report, a letter you
had written to Jean [Beaumont, a schoolfriend of Florence’s at the convent in
Kensington Square] was enclosed – a silly, common effusion which might have come
from any high school miss of about 12 who thought she was being clever - and it
shows only too clearly the way you are behaving. I don’t intend to send it on,
in any case.
Now, there are one or two things you must clearly understand. It is
forbidden to write to your friends more than once a fortnight, as you have known
all along, and to us once a week on Sundays. So you are not to do it any
more. If you do, I will communicate with Jean and Claudia’s parents and see that
they are not to write to you at all any more. I had no idea when I was getting
so many letters from you that you were calmly breaking the rules. I imagined
they were letting you write home often to begin with. Also, breaking off from
the others, going into shops and coming home alone – all that must stop, or I
shall ask the nuns not to send you out on walks at all.
As to the other rules you are breaking and otherwise causing disturbance
and trouble, you know best what they are and I rely on you for your own sake to
stop it all and behave yourself. If we receive a single other bad report of any
kind, or if we do not receive good ones for the rest of the term, we have
decided not to go to Pontresina or Freiburg [Florence was due to go on a skiing
holiday over Christmas in Pontresina with some old family friends of her parents
who had a son her age]. You will either have to remain at the convent or come
here and spend the holidays with Nanny. You see, it is costing Daddy a good deal
of money to send you to Pontresina and we are doing it entirely to give you
pleasure and to make you happy. But I don’t see why Daddy should make this
sacrifice when you do not show the slightest intention or make the slightest
effort to please us in any way. We are slowly and sadly coming to the conclusion
that all the trouble we go to, to make you happy and make things pleasant for
you is entirely thrown away, as you do not try in any way to repay it or show by
your conduct that you have the slightest affection for us. The only way you can
show it, after all, is by doing your best.
Also, do you think it is quite worth while in your new school, where I am
told everyone liked you at first, to make yourself thoroughly unpopular all
round for the sake of bragging of your exploits to Jean and any others of your
silly friends? I am very sorry to have to write to you like this, as I really
thought you had left all this nonsense and dishonourable conduct behind at
Kensington. It is dishonourable both to us and to the nuns who have been
trusting you. If you go on, the only result will be the withdrawal of all the
special privileges you have been given and the special allowances that have been
made for you by the nuns and on our side no Christmas holiday.
I hope you will write to me on Sunday giving me your word that all this is
finally done with; that you are going to behave as you did when you first went;
and that you will also give your word to Mme Bernharda to the same effect. If
they refuse to keep you, we would have to find a very different kind of school
which you would not enjoy nearly as much, I am sure. I am anxiously awaiting a
letter to tell me you are sorry about all this and promise it will not occur any
more.
Your loving Mommy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.8.
Florence Macaskie at Römerplatz 12, Baden-Baden to her mother Jane Macaskie in
London, undated (mid-November 1929).
Dear Mommy,
I am very sorry you got a bad report about me. I have promised here that I
will be good and I also promise you the same. I did not really mean to be
troublesome when I went and bought those sweets, but I really did lose my glove
and then the rest of the crocodile. And it is very tempting to see a lot of
sweet-shops gaping at you and not go in. Besides, I have never been in a
boarding school before and I find myself very cooped in, having to walk in a
crocodile when I am used to wandering aimlessly from one side of the pavement to
the other and being able to go into any shop I like.
About my writing so many letters before this, I was never told until last
Sunday that I was to, in the future, write home only once a week. Also, if I had
really been breaking the rules, you wouldn’t have got the letters and I should
have been told much sooner not to write so often.
I admit that I have tried to make the others laugh when I shouldn’t, but
often it is not me purposely at all, because they all laugh at the slightest
thing, even if I make a mistake in German. I don’t really blame them, because
languages can be very funny when incorrectly spoken. Anyhow, I have now promised
to be good and I give you and Daddy my word that I will try my hardest, both at
being good and learning German. In fact, I have been trying at German and I now
understand everything, even the difficult words if I really stop to think them
out, and I find myself speaking a lot.
I quite understand that it is very ungrateful of me to behave badly here
and waste Daddy’s money. I am really very sorry about it all, and about
disappointing you and Daddy by not being good. You said in your letter that the
nuns said I was indifferent when I was spoken to. I may have appeared so, but
what I understood of the P.C. [“private conversation”, family slang for a
telling-off] I quite took in and agreed with. I may have seemed indifferent
because I did not cry as all the others do when they are scolded in the
slightest respect. It was not because I wanted to be stubborn or anything that I
did not cry, because it does not take me that way after having about 8 solid
years of almost daily P.C.s at Kensington. Also, here one is simply roared at,
and I was too surprised to weep.
I hope you will have good reports at the end of the term; in fact I will
try my utmost to that effect.
With lots of love,
Florence.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.9.
Jane Macaskie at 48 Pembroke Road, London W.8, to Florence Macaskie in
Baden-Baden, 20 November 1929
My darling Florence,
Today I was so pleased to get your letter this morning and your promise
which I know you will keep. I quite see that you were not told before not to
write so many letters. I suspect they were letting you write as many as you
liked just to start with. Also, I know quite well what you mean about all the
girls crying when they are scolded. I remember when I was at Freiburg, most of
the girls in my class were 17 or 18 and they used to get in a terrible state if
any complaint was made about them. Carmen¹ and I were the only ones who didn’t
take it seriously. Also, the German way of finding fault is really very
exaggerated, as I know from experience. All the same, one must only allow for it
and not give unnecessary trouble while you are there, because I really think the
nuns started out to treat you very kindly and seem to have not been nearly as
strict as they might be, on account of your being a foreigner.
I am awfully glad to hear of the progress you are making in German. I am
sure you will know it very well by next summer holidays.
I couldn’t possibly let you go to Basle alone and stop there the night. To
begin with, Basle station with its frontiers is the easiest in the whole of
Europe to lose either yourself or your luggage in. And to arrive at any winter
sport place without one’s kit is an absolute waste of time and money. I will
find out what time the Hopes pass through. If it isn’t too early in the morning,
I might be able to arrange that you should sleep at Freiburg the night before,
and as that is less than an hour from Basle, you ought to be able to make the
connection if the party doesn’t pass through too early. Also, Mrs Devaux¹ would
I know send someone with you to hand you over safely. If necessary, I could ask
her to send one of her servants who have both been with her for more than 30
years, and were quite attached to me.
Still Daddy has heard nothing about Khartoum [where he had been engaged to
act in a court case]. I think it may end in his having to go alone by any route
he can find accommodation on. Of course there won’t be any Americans this year.
You perhaps haven’t heard there has been the most terrific slump on the New York
Stock exchange, going on for about three weeks, and millions of Americans are
ruined and all the travelling ones in Europe and the East are pouring back to
America on every available boat owing to having no more money. I hear all the
smart and dear shops in Paris are in despair as they relied entirely on rich
American women, a species for the time being extinct.
Jimmy and Jane are very well. I must now go and take the latter off to her
music lesson.
Lots of love, darling,
Mommy.
¹ Carmen Devaux, a contemporary of Jane Macaskie, was a member of an
Anglo-French family who moved to Germany in the 19th century. The
family were close friends of the Macaskies and Jane lodged with them when she
was at school in Freiburg. The Mrs Devaux mentioned in this letter was probably
Carmen’s mother. See note on the Devaux family in the
Annex.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.10.
Jane Macaskie at 48 Pembroke Road, London W.8, to Florence Macaskie in
Baden-Baden, 26 November 1929
My darling Florence,
Today I got a very good report of you from Mme Bernharda. Daddy and I were
so pleased about it. She said that from the day you got my letter you were
perfectly good and working so hard, and they are all over you again. Really,
darling, one has a much better time in this life by making oneself liked rather
than the other thing. She also said, which pleased us very much, that you had
made very great progress in German and had such a good accent. Also you were
doing very well in French, drawing and music. I do hope this blessed state of
affairs will last and that we shall have no more nonsense.
I will send you out your fancy dress, or did you take it mit [with]?
Anyhow, I will ask Nanny. Also your bridesmaid’s dress and a wool coat of mine
as you have lost your own. I think if I send you that very warm three-quarter
length one of mine – you know, of many colours, mainly beige-brown – it ought to
be more useful and go more with everything than the pale yellow, but if you
prefer the yellow, I will send it. Anyhow, keep it for Pontresina, don’t wear it
at school. Your new dress I will give to Mrs Hope [with whom Florence was going
on holiday in Pontresina] to avoid crumples. It hasn’t yet arrived, by the way.
I don’t know what has happened to Burface [the family’s dressmaker]. She was
three weeks late with Jimmy’s outfit, and large though his head is, she has made
the hat far too big – it is large on Jane, even. However, I am writing to her
today. Get yourself a pair of silk evening stockings before you leave
Baden-Baden as the shops there are much better than in Switzerland. Get a good
quality but not too fine, because you are a bit heavy on them.
Yesterday it was at last decided that Daddy was to go to Khartoum and I
shall go with him. We will be leaving on about December 18th or
19th and if the sea isn’t rough between Genoa and Alexandria it might
be a lovely trip. Daddy and I will come to Baden-Baden on our way home and spend
a day or perhaps two if Daddy has the time or any money left! with you. That
ought to be somewhere between January 12th and 14th – but
it is impossible to say exactly the date until we have found out all about the
sailing of the ships and all that. Anyhow, I take it the term will have begun
again by then. As soon as I hear from you exactly when the holidays end, I will
write to Mrs Devaux about meeting you on your way back through Bâle and also
about sending you back with an escort to the convent. I will write tomorrow to
Mme Bernharda about providing a chaperone to take you to Basle and stay the
night with you there. I think it is safer to arrange for the Hopes to meet you
in the Buffet, because running up and down platforms trying to meet the endless
trains that come in to Basle for Swiss sports is hopeless…
Lots of love and kisses,
Mommy
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.11.
Nicholas Macaskie at 5 Paper Buildings [his chambers], Temple E.C.4, to Florence
Macaskie at the Convent of the Holy Sepulchre in Baden-Baden, 7 December
1929
Beloved Pig Dog Florence,
This is the girl that never writes, that cheeks the nuns, that does not
work etc. I fact I was terribly disappointed to get that rotten report from the
Convent. I will confess, however, that I am pleased to say that the criminal is
showing signs of reforming and I only hope that the final report will compel me
to fork out many doubloons, moidores [Portuguese gold coins], pieces of eight,
not to say guineas [in which barristers were paid], to send you to
Pontresina.
I expect your mother has told you that she and I are off to the land of
Hathor, Amun, Ra and Osiris on the 17th, via Paris, Genoa and
Alexandria. She wants to come all the way with me to Khartoum, but I would
rather she struck up a nice friendship with some hospitable old grump who would
go with her to Luxor and see the wonders of the Valley of the Kings and of the
Queens. However, qui verra, verra.
I do hope you will write me one little letter before I go away. Many a
night the hot scalding tears have coursed down my cheeks thinking of my Florence
who does note care to write to me. It’s an awful sad thought, that.
I am full of Scotch sayings because I am in the middle of a heavy case
about a Scotsman who made a will and died but whom other people want to
[illegible] really was an Englishman.
I would much rather be going to Suvretta House [hotel in St Moritz] this
winter, but it cannot be; the legs of mutton have to be earned as my father used
to say.
I was inoculated yesterday for typhoid and your mother was inoculated last
Wednesday. She, poor wench, went all queer just after we arrived at the Greek
[illegible] for dinner, so she had to go home with a maid to bed and I stopped
behind and ate a very good dinner. It was a great pity because we met Lillah
McCarthy¹, now Lady Keeble and Major Longman [unidentified] who is organising
the Italian Exhibition of Art. Both were very interesting and amusing. As for
me, I only have a sore arm.
My darling, I have to leave now. I enclose 10/- for a good girl and
thousands of kisses and all my love, you ungrateful wretch.
Your loving father,
Nick Macaskie.
¹ Lillah MacCarthy (1875-1960) was an actress and
theatre manager, and a friend of George Bernard Shaw, in several of whose plays
she appeared. Married first Harley Granville Barker, actor and manager; and
second Sir Frederick Keeble, botanist.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.12.
Jane Macaskie at the Grand Hotel in Khartoum to Florence Macaskie at the Convent
of the Holy Sepulchre in Baden-Baden, New Year’s Eve
1929
My darling Florence,
We arrived here the day before yesterday and Daddy has been working very
hard at his case, which he hopes to finish tomorrow in time to catch the night
train. We get on the Nile boat the next night and arrive at Luxor on Saturday
morning – just about the time when you arrive at Basle. I hope you have had a
very nice holiday and lots of fun. I am sure you have, but I am longing to hear
about it.
This is a very nice place with very fine buildings and broad streets and
avenues of enormous acacias, the biggest I have ever seen. There isn’t a sign of
a butterfly [Florence was an avid collector of butterflies] – I think it is far
too windy for them even if there were any. The sun is hot in the middle of the
day, but otherwise it is not hot a bit as there is always a terrific breeze
blowing off the Nile, and this hotel is right on the Nile. I know you will be
sorry to hear that I was bitten by what I am told was a bug evidently in the
Nile boat or the train from Cairo. He bit me good and hard about 25 times on the
shoulder, and the bites have all turned into little blisters. It is most
uncomfortable, as Daddy and I were invited to dine at the Palace by the
Governor-General of the Sudan and I suspect he knew at once what I was suffering
from [probably the same sand-flies that plagued Grace Lambert – see Letter
2.12]. All the same, we had a most delightful evening and the Palace was lovely,
all marble halls and staircases and balconies and glimpses of the most
lovely-looking garden in the starlight, and we were waited on by black slaves!
in the most impressive scarlet and white costumes.
Yesterday evening I went to the Zoo, which is next door to the hotel. The
animals are much tamer than in London – many of them are walking around loose –
gazelles and zebras and things like that, but they are also much lazier, I
suppose owing to the climate. There were some awfully funny tiny monkeys
behaving just like kittens. I didn’t see any jerbals [sic] but lots of Mr
Baumer’s¹ tree bears. There was a baby giraffe that was cheeky, also a baby
hippo – not so cheeky.
Yesterday afternoon, we were motored across the Nile to a place called
Omdurman where there was a famous battle, and saw the native town, which was
most interesting. We were followed around by troops of little boys, some of them
awfully sweet and all full of fun. We saw the native market and shops and
strange types from the desert doing their shopping. Altogether it was delightful
and I know you would have loved to see it. There is nothing to buy here except
ivory which is very good, and yesterday Daddy bought you an ivory necklace which
I think you will like. He has got two beautiful hair-brush backs and has ordered
two clothes-brush backs – you have to get the bristles put in at home because
they are no good here. He has a sun-helmet which he looks very smart in but he
hasn’t had time to have his hair cut since ages before we left London and it is
nearly as long as mine. However, if the case is over tomorrow, he will have time
to attend to these matters.
I hope you are not very bored at going back to school. I expect it will be
all right after a day or two. Daddy and I will sail from Alexandria on January
11th as far as I know at present, and may be with you on the evening
of the 15th, or possibly not until the next day. Anyhow, we will
telegraph. If we can stay a night, I hope they will let you come out for it. I
expect they will. Will you ask Mme Bernharda, then we could telephone as soon as
we arrive from whatever hotel we go to, and they could send you along in a taxi
– it would save time.
Lots of love, darling, and a happy new year from
us both.
Mommy.
¹ Lewis Baumer (1870-1963) was a well-known caricaturist and
cartoonist who worked for the magazine Punch. He was a good friend of the
Macaskies. He also illustrated children’s books and his tree-bears were possibly
figures from one of these.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.13.
Florence Macaskie at the Convent of the Holy Sepulchre in Baden-Baden to her
mother Jane Macaskie, undated (probably January 1930).
Dear Mommy,
... You know I get extra butter. Well, I usually eat it for breakfast and
tea. At tea we get the most awful sweet jam – you know how I hate jam (even
“Tiptree”) with bread. Well, today they removed my butter to a cupboard (which
is only opened at breakfast) and told me I could not have butter for tea because
the others didn’t have it too. Sometimes we get apples and bread and no jam. We
are made to eat the bread dry, which is worse than anything. Please will
you write to Mme Bernharda about it, because damn it all! it’s my butter and
I’ve never eaten dry bread every day for tea yet and I’m not starting now!!
Please remind Nanny about the dressing gown and things. I must have
them before the 4th of March. Please!
I’m sorry this letter is late, but I couldn’t write on Sunday as we went
to an awful sentimental play. At least it was atrociously acted. I’m praying
very hard for Daddy’s silk business [Nick Macaskie was applying for silk and was
sworn in as a King’s Counsel on 18 February 1930].
Lots of love,
Florence.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.14.
Florence Macaskie at the Convent of the Holy Sepulchre, Baden-Baden, to her
mother at 48 Pembroke Road, London, 22 February 1930
… About this butter trouble, perhaps the other
girls grumble at your having butter for tea if they don’t, and the nuns may be
having bother about it. After all, you have it for breakfast every morning. It
won’t do you any harm to try and eat the jam for tea like the rest of them and
make an act [of contrition], especially with Lent coming on. It must be very
nasty jam if it is worse than dry bread. Just see how you can manage, but don’t
have a row over such a trifle. I suppose, as I only asked for you to have butter
at breakfast, they don’t want you to have it for tea as well – and after all,
Daddy thinks it is rather hard on the other girls. I expect the nuns give you
quite a good time as it is and you do a lot of things you couldn’t do if you
were a German girl. …
Lots of love and thanks from Daddy for the
prayers. They are evidently being answered, as he has already had three new
briefs as a K.C. – not large, but still a beginning.
Mommy
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.15.
Florence Macaskie at Lilienhof in Germany to her mother at 48 Pembroke Road,
London W.8, 19 March 1930
… I expect Mrs Devaux told you I am now at
Lilienhof. It is awful fun. … I often go down to the pigsty with Peter¹ to catch
rats. The dog does the killing. One goes into the pig’s little compartment and
lifts up a piece of flooring which the dog goes rushing under; at the same time
the rats run out under your feet. It’s quite fun!
I got the parcels today. I like the coat very much; it just wants the belt
taking in a little. The dress is also very nice but a bit too long in the skirt.
The pink knickers are very posh; they match my chemises.
I hope you haven’t had too bad a report from School. But I think the nuns
were rather annoyed with me this term because I climbed rather a lot and, an
even worse sin, I played some April fool jokes on one or two of the nuns.
However, I think I can justly say I have learnt a lot more German than when you
saw me. I have promised the Frau Priorin [Prioress] really to pull myself
together next term and not to do any of the objected to things. I’m awfully
sorry. Thanks awfully for your letter. I will write a longer one next time.
Lots of love,
Florence
¹ Jane Macaskie’s friend and contemporary Carmen Devaux
(see note to Letter 4.9) married a Herr von Wogau who had a wine-growing estate
called Lilienhof over-looking the Rhine not far from Baden-Baden. They had a
son, Peter, of Florence’s age; and a daughter, Carmen. Florence stayed with
the family at Lilienhof several times while she was in the Convent at
Baden-Baden, and Carmen became a life-long friend.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lilienhof
Letter 5.16.
Florence Macaskie at Lilienhof in Germany to her sister Jane Macaskie, undated
(probably spring 1930).
Dear Jane,
Thanks awfully for your letter. Needless to say the grammar was appalling
and the spelling worse, and I think it is about time you learnt handwriting. My
German “Missels”, as you call them, have gone; only my glands stayed a little.
However, they are now successfully fading away. On Tuesday, I hope to go to
Freiburg with Carmen¹, where I will spend a few days and then go back to school
and black stockings and crocodiles! I had a letter from the Rev. Mother at B.B.
She apparently thinks I am dying. She entreats me to have Geduld in Krankheit
[patience in illness] etc. I’m hoping Carmen will help me answer the letter, as
I’m blithered if I know what to say.
Last night I had a dream, or rather nightmare, about the twins. There were
at least sixteen of them in one end of an enormous perambulator which ran down
terribly steep hills the whole time, dragging me after it. I’m simply longing to
come home and see them. ...
About the birds nesting, I think it extremely
cruel, and you know it yourself. Anyway, it is an absolute waste of time for you
to try and collect birds’ eggs, as you are always in London when there are any
eggs. One other thing is that, when you happen to find a nest with six eggs in
it, and there are only two you need, only take two instead of taking the whole
six, and always be careful not to touch the others or the nest with your
fingers. In fact, if one is really collecting seriously, one has a bottle of
paste and a brush. With that, you take out the egg and leave the others in
peace. If Jimbo [their brother Jimmy] wants to collect, let him, but I wish you
wouldn’t, especially in that barbaric way of taking the whole caboodle. …
¹ Carmen Gronau, née von Wogau (1910-1999), the daughter of
Carmen Devaux and brother of Peter von Wogau. A life-long friend of Florence’s.
. She married a half-Jewish art historian, Hans Gronau, in 1933 and they wisely
decided to move to London shortly after Hitler came to power. Hans subsequently
joined Sotheby’s as an old master expert, and when he died in 1951 Carmen took
over his job and became a director of Sotheby’s in 1958. Florence and Michael
saw a lot of them both during and after the war, and Hans and Carmen were
Flavia’s godparents.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 5.17.
Florence Macaskie at the Convent of the Holy Sepulchre, Baden-Baden to her
mother at 48 Pembroke Road, London W.8, 8 June (Whit Sunday)
1930
Dear Mommy,
Thanks awfully for your letters. I was really beginning to wonder what had
happened to you all, you hadn’t written for such a long time. We are now having
Whitsun holidays. Most of the girls have gone home; in fact there are only seven
here. On the whole it is not so bad; we are allowed to do practically what we
like inside the convent, and I am going to the swimming baths soon, I hope. It
is terribly hot here, like the hottest days in London, only worse.
My frogs are very well and most energetic; they jump about three yards
when loose. Seeing them ear flies is most exciting for everyone except the fly
which gets caught on the end of the frog’s sticky tongue and gradually drawn
into his mouth, helped by his front paws.
There is a Belgian girl here from Antwerp. I don’t know if I’ve already
written to you about her. She is very nice. In fact, now Christel [a German girl
with whom she had made friends] has left, I like her the best. We talk French
sometimes, which is rather a good thing as I am forgetting my French, or at
least getting very out of practice.
Last Wednesday we went to Karlsruhe on an Ausflug [outing]. It was most
awful fun. First we went into two churches, the first quite modern and perfectly
dreadful like the Kinema [i.e like the pseudo-Egyptian Egyptian architecture of
the Kensington Odeon, which used to be called the Kensington Kinema] outside and
something between a mosque and a circus inside, all painted red and orange with
long proverby things written across the walls. It was Catholic, too. The other
was much nicer, a cross between Byzantine and Romanesque, and minus mosaic or
marble. Then we went for a motor-boat ride round the Rhine harbour and out into
the Rhine itself. When we passed steamers, it got quite rough and exciting.
After that we went to the Schloss. It is very nice from the outside, but I
didn’t go in. Then lunch; not too bad, but much too much of it. I had some beer,
which was very refreshing.
After lunch we went and were shown round a Balance (weighing machine)
factory. It was very tiring and I am not too interested in a weighing machines.
Then, being dead tired, we went to a tea-shop and had a very good tea. Then we
went home – not at all bad.
I am longing for the sixteenth when Daddy
comes. Do you think there is any chance of his staying a day or two and not only
a few hours? I enclose a photograph of me with the convent kitten. I was not a
bit ready when it was taken, so that accounts for the pained look on my face. …
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AT THE SACRED
HEART CONVENT IN FLORENCE
Letter 5.18.
Nick Macaskie at 5 Paper Buildings, Temple E.C.4 to Florence Macaskie at the
Convent of the Sacred Heart, 15 Viale Michelangelo, Florence, 29 November
1930
My dearest Florence,
Many say that silence means consent, though no lawyer would say it does.
Still, as I have forgotten to deal with your request for the four hours, or was
it forty hours? riding per week you mentioned, you may take it that I have
generously taken the matter into my consideration and granted your petition.
I do not know yet definitely whether I am going to Khartoum, but if I do,
I am afraid your roseate dreams of coming with me and sailing up the Nile like
Cleopatra of old are bound to disappointment. Firstly, the fee would not run to
it. Secondly, your mother is seriously bitten with the idea of leaving 48
Pembroke Road and moving into a dilapidated ruin of a house in Kensington Square
full of the ghosts and memories of J. Barker’s smelly shop assistants [the
neighbouring Department Store had been using 25 Kensington Square for storage
space] which will take more than all my resources, plus those of the Bank of
England, to do up, so in case this blow falls, it is a case of all hands to the
pump, either to stop her or to get the money. I tell your mother that it is the
fatal lure of the convent [where the Macaskie girls went to school and which
was almost next door] that lures her to Kensington Square and that eventually,
like Madame de Chantal, she will step over our prostrate forms to walk into the
convent and take the veil [Madame de Chantal was a 17th century
French saint. An aristocratic widow, she decided to found a convent; when her
son tried to stop her entering the convent and becoming a nun by lying down in
front of the door, she resolutely stepped over his body].
6.12.30.
A week has gone by and all that time I have carried this unfinished
epistle in my bosom, so I hope you will value it. News has now come to hand that
I am not to go to Khartoum before Easter, so your mother will go and fetch you
about the 17th or 18th to bring you back to a merry Xmas
at Home. I would I were booking again into to St Moritz, but this year, I am
afraid it cannot be. Some of your prayers on my behalf have been answered
because I have been engaged for the last two months in a long Government enquiry
as to whether waitresses in J. Lyons and tea shops all over the country shall be
given a minimum wage regulated by what is called a Trade Board or such. Not very
interesting, but fairly profitable. But for the idea of the New House, we would
have gone to St Moritz. Alas!
I have also had the honour paid to me by my Inn (Gray’s Inn) inviting me
to become a Bencher. This will enable me to take you to any Balls the Inn may
give, but the privilege of membership is costly. I have to pay what is called
150 guineas caution money. So you see that times are comparatively hard and it
needs a hell of a lot of briefs to keep the wolf from the door, to pay my
caution money, and to pay for the repairs of the new house if we get it.
If, my bad girl, you want a little extra money to make gifts to some of
your friends on leaving, let me know and I will draw my belt a little tighter
and let you have what you want. I am longing to see you again, and I send you
all my love and thousands of kisses. Give my love to Diana [her cousin Diana
Gallagher (see note to Letter 65) who seems to have joined her briefly at the
convent]. Would you like something for her?
Your loving father,
Nick Macaskie
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Letter 4.19.
Florence Lambert at the Convent of the Sacred Heart, Florence, to her mother
Jane Macaskie at 48 Pembroke Road, London W.8, postmarked 28 January
1931.
Dear Mommy,
… The nuns are being awfully nice here. They have changed my room and
given me a much bigger one without a piano and where I can put out all my
ornaments and things and have nearly all my clothes. And where I can sit during
the day and have much more freedom than the others. I think it is awfully decent
of them. The room is lovely, big and sunny, etc. Also, they are arranging for me
to go out on Sundays to see churches and on Thursdays to go shopping.
Then they are still looking for someone to ride with. I believe that is
rather difficult. I have Italian lessons every day and during recreation a nun
takes me round the garden for Italian conversation. The other lessons are
French, drawing, drill, leather work and sewing, then in Italian every morning
literature, history or history of art. I don’t understand those very much yet,
and Dante is very deep anyhow.
Would you like me to make a purse at leather-work?
Yesterday we went out, just our class, and saw things through telescopes
in the Observatory, quite fun, and then we went over the Church of San Miniato.
It is lovely; there is a crucifix by della Robbia which is very nice and the
mosaic and frescoes are nice too. We were out all the morning and the weather
was glorious – very sunny and a blue, blue sky. I have German too from the
Hungarian girl here; she speaks very well. The Rev. Mother is very nice and so
is the headmistress. There is no more room [on this sheet], so cheerio.
Tons of love to everyone,
Florence.
Letter 5.20.
Jane Macaskie at the Grand Hotel Eastbourne, to Florence Macaskie at the Convent
of the Sacred Heart, Florence, 6 March 1931
My darling Florence,
I got your letters sent on by Mrs Beaumont [mother of Florence’s
schoolfriend Jean] the day before yesterday and was glad to hear that you and
your Italian are getting on so well. Do you speak it as well as German yet?
I expect you will be wondering at my change of address, but Daddy had to
come down here yesterday for a case, so I came with him. The case is going on
all today and we catch a five o’clock train home. This is quite a good hotel of
the English type – very large, very dear, very empty, very ordinary food, very dull people, very comfortable armchairs, very long walk to the bath
and other conveniences, very cold bedroom. But we had a fire last evening. This
morning I was told I couldn’t light the electric radiator until I put a shilling
in the slot – what a way to run the largest and most expensive hotel in
Eastbourne. Also, when we arrived last night, the beds were not even made, nor
the curtains drawn in our room, although Daddy’s client had ordered it days ago.
And yet people are seriously expected to spend their holidays in England.
Last night there was a dance and Daddy and I danced the polka among other
things. This morning I strolled out and, after walking along the front for miles
and miles, it being a mild and sunny day with a glassy sea, I went down and sat
on the beach! I was the only person in all Eastbourne who thought of such a
thing – perhaps it’s verboten [forbidden]. Anyhow, all the rest of the
population were sitting in shelters or on seats and chairs or bath chairs in the
gardens and on the promenade. Not the place to let yourself go in. …
Letter 5.21. Jane
Macaskie at 27 Kensington Square, London W.8, to Florence Macaskie at the
Convent of the Sacred Heart, Florence, 28 December 1931
… Now I will tell you how we spent Christmas. Miss
Halkett¹ sent some gorgeous holly and greenery and it all looks too lovely in
the hall with the oak and the green paint. On Christmas Eve, Nurse and I and
Jane went to the Convent [across the Square] for Mass, and it was really
beautiful, especially the Procession to the Crib with the Infant Jesus. Coggie
[Hume, another old friend of Jane’s] and Patricia were there, and Patricia
really hates Mayfield [Catholic girls’ boarding school] and much prefers day
school. Which reminds me, a perfectly dreadful book has just been written about
Glendower called “Children, be happy!” by a child called Wade² who is now only
21 and I am told was expelled from Glendower and on leaving threatened the
headmistress that she would ruin the School. Anyhow, she won’t do that because
directly it was published eight libel actions were started against the
publishers, though only one so far was fought by a schoolfellow who is grossly
libelled under the thinnest disguise. In fact the authoress was so anxious that
everyone should recognise the school that she put in a preface to say it was all
founded on fact, and called everyone by almost their correct names. The
publishers have withdrawn all the copies they can get hold of, and say there are
only about 100 copies left at large. Of course, it is bound to do almost as much
harm to the school as everyone seems to know what school it is about; and even
if people haven’t read it, they know that a book was written that had to be
withdrawn at once. Personally, I expect the book is greatly exaggerated, because
you wouldn’t expect the unbiased truth from an expelled girl thirsting for
vengeance. But I think the worst charge that can be brought against the
Glendower specimens like Patricia and the Hornimans is that they are the most
perfect bores. …
¹ Miss
Craigie-Halkett was an old friend
of the family; she came from a moneyed Scottish family and was generous with her
gifts.
² Rosalind Herschel
Wade (1909-1989), who went on to
write over 20 more novels and to lecture on writing and literature.
Letter 5.22. Florence
Macaskie at the Convent of the Sacred Heart, Florence, to Nick Macaskie in
London, 28 December 1931
Dear Daddy,
Please don’t think me awfully piggy if I haven’t written before now, but
we have had such full days since the holidays began. Thanks awfully for the
really undeserved Xmas present; really the wireless was supposed to do both
birthday and Xmas. Your blotter is quite ready, but it is so nice I thought it
would be better to send it by Mrs Beaumont in case it got spoilt in the post. I
hope you are all right now – how beastly having a cold at Christmas.
We have been having quite fun here, but I miss home all the same. I will
let you know what we did in order of days, beginning with Xmas eve.
In the morning, we dashed round the town buying presents for people. It
was too hectic for words because everyone wanted to go in a different direction
and there was only one chaperone among 15 of us. However, Jean and I ruled the
others with a rod of iron and managed to get all we wanted. It was very
cold sunny weather and the Arno was frozen and still is in parts. We arrived
home for lunch laden with parcels of every description, including six pounds of
rice and maccheroni for the poor. In the evening we had the giving of the
presents, and games and things to pass the time till midnight. At 11.30 we all
went to the dormitory to wake the little ones who had gone to bed singing carols
(we, not the little ones). Then there were three midnight Masses, two of which
we heard. The chapel looked lovely. There was no crib, only a wax Infant Jesus
rigged up on one of the side altars. After Mass we had hot chocolate and went to
bed – at least the others did, only Elizabeth, Rachel, Jean and I went up on the
terrace and looked at the moon, which was perfectly lovely, full in a very clear
sky.
On Xmas day we heard two more Masses and then had lunch because the Masses
were late. In the afternoon, Jean and I went out with Rachel and had coffee and
masses of cakes at a stand-up Café Bar affair such as Florence is bristling
with. Then we came home after listening to the sung Vespers in the Cathedral.
They sound lovely; it is so enormous and echoey. After supper in the evening,
the four of us sang English carols outside the communicating door to the nuns
[i.e. their part of the convent]. … We dressed up again and stood there in the
dark with lighted candles. Imagine, Adeste fideles while the nuns came out one
by one in silence to go down to the chapel.
Boxing Day was fun too. In the morning we went to visit the seminary
belonging [sic] to the priest who gives us apologetics [a branch of theology],
and he showed us all over it. There is a perfectly lovely little chapel,
15th century with beautiful frescoes on the walls and marvellously
carved marble altar and tabernacle. You would have liked it. Everything was so
in keeping and nothing jarred at all: no paper decoration and glass flowers such
as they delight in adorning the churches with in France and Italy – you know the
pink paper ones at Fresné [Fresné-la-Mere in Normandy] that have been there
since the canonization of the Little Flower [St Theresa of Lisieux] four or five
years ago. In the afternoon Elizabeth and the three of us went up to Fiesole to
visit the Convent of the Blue Sisters. They are an English nursing order who
have convents for convalescing English people in Florence and up at Fiesole.
They were so nice and gave us real tea and bread and butter such as we haven’t
had since home. It was just like being back in England with Xmas decorations all
round the room and everything so typically English. After tea we explored the
garden, which was lovely, and then we went to Benediction. The chapel [in the
convent] was very nice and the singing excellent – such a change from here where
they all sing through their noses. But we had to go out in the middle and dash
up the hill to catch the tram to Florence. Another thing that might interest you
and probably Mommy is that we saw there Vernon Johnson, the man who was a famous
Anglican preacher and who made a great sensation in London a short time ago by
becoming a Catholic. He is studying to be a priest now.
I must stop now and save the rest of the news for Mommy’s letter. I hope
you had a nice Xmas and that your cold is quite gone.
Lots and lots of love and thousands of kisses,
Florence.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Towards the end
of her stay at the Sacred Heart, Florence was joined at the school by her old
schoolfriend Jean Beaumont and another English girl. The three girls wanted to
go on a 10-day trip to Rome over Easter. Although Florence was now 17, she was
still kept very much under her parents’ control, as this letter
indicates.
Letter 5.23.
Jane Macaskie at 27 Kensington Square, London W.8, to Florence Macaskie at the
Convent of the Sacred Heart, Florence, 19 February 1832
… About the Roman trip. Daddy and I would both
love to let you go and I think £12 seems a more reasonable estimate than your
vague one of £20. I think possibly Daddy will be able to manage it for you if
you really give an undertaking not to spend more than that. Of course I should
prefer you to stay at the [Convent of the] Sacred Heart rather than than the
[Convent of the] Assumption, because they would feel more sense of
responsibility for you in one of their own convents. … There is one absolute I
make, and I am sure Mrs Beaumont and Elizabeth’s mother will insist on it also –
that none of you three are ever to go out in Rome alone. You must always be at
least two together. Unless you promise this, Daddy and I would not consent to
your going. Also, whichever convent you go to must keep the rules as to hours
etc.
Daddy has at last got back from Durham and is
very busy and next week he has several cases. What he dreads is what happened
last term when he had to return six cases at Leeds because the whaling case came
on here [he was acting for two Norwegian whaling companies who were claiming
breach of contract over the sale of whale oil]. He is afraid that the appeal in
that case will interfere with his circuit work again. So you might have a few
words with St Francis about it; also to get in some fees….
