Transgressions: Installment XCIXVII
November 1, 1939, Wednesday
A grey day of fog varied with mist.
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Monnet is now negotiating a purchase of nearly 5,000 aircraft from the States.
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Fiona is recommending a new book by Gerald Heard, Pain, Sex and Time.? Of course.? This in a note in which she writes:? “I’m afraid you might sometimes think that I am been unkind.? It is actually not possible for me to explain or excuse myself.? Do you know Brecht’s Nachgeborenen?? “We, who wanted to prepare the ground for kindness/Could not be kind ourselves.”? Something like that.
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To which I wrote in reply:? “Beware, dear.? I think Forster has warned somewhere that ‘As soon as people have power they go crooked and sometimes dotty as well, because the possession of power lifts them into a region where normal honesty never pays.’”? And then tore it up.
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November 3, 1939, Friday
Welbeck Street.? “The question, as Low has put it, is whom it is that is taking the other for a walk.? My money’s on Joe.”? Watt.? Later, over the Port, as it were, he asked if I would be willing to accompany him on a visit to “the ancient Watts.”?
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“You won’t like it.? Extraordinarily boring Northumberland farming people.”
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Agreed.
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November 4, 1939, Saturday
Haxton:? “The Nazis are said to have made a fortune from their sale of ‘decadent’ art.”
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Burgess:? “Not only the Nazis.? Certain parties—one of whom is well known in this house—able to buy in Lucerne and sell in New York, also did quite well.”
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November 8, 1939, Wednesday
Reports say there was? Standing Room only at the National Gallery yesterday for the Myra Hess 1:00 pm performance.? People are famished for art and are fed nothing but reports about war, which they do not believe.? Or believe in.
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November 9, 1939, Thursday
Pouring with rain.? To Oxford, where I took a room at the Randolph, as per Laura’s? instructions.? Over dinner she spoke about Fiona and Nadine, whom, she said, worked together well.? “Is Nadine also at the Treasury?”
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“No, but they do work closely on a number of things.”
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“Nadine does what, exactly?”
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“You should learn to ask fewer questions.”
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Later, after she was satisfied:? “I don’t want to make babies; you can come between my breasts again.? Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.”
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It would be good if she bathed more often.? Matted hair on her head and elsewhere, strong smells.
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November 10, 1939, Friday
An explosion at Hitler’s old beer hall (the Bürgerbr?u) in Munich.? Apparently an attempt to kill the Nazis partly leadership, which was having a commemorative meeting there.
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Watt:? “Perhaps.? Or perhaps another Reichstag fire.”
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Watt’s family home is in a particularly remote part of Northumberland.? We took the Flying Scotsman from Kings Cross to Newcastle, then a remarkably slow train (the Crawling Scotsman) on a branch line to a small station in a deep, heavily wooded valley, where we were met by one of Watt’s father’s tenants, driving an extraordinarily battered vehicle that was obviously more often used to haul hay and hounds than human cargo.? A succession of steadily narrower roads took us higher into the Cheviot hills, until, rather surprisingly, we arrived at a perfect miniature castle:? crenellated walls with towers at each corner, moat, drawbridge, portcullis.? A tall woman dressed for riding, trailed by two fawn greyhounds, was just coming around the corner of the castle as we got out of the car.?
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“You must be Edmund’s American friend we have heard about so often.? Lovely to meet you.? I have a few more things to do out here.? Please go in.? Edmund’s father must be somewhere about.”
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We walked across the bridge, under the portcullis, into the courtyard, where the hounds who lived in one of the rooms on the right howled and threw themselves against the door.? Watt’s father, attended by a very large brindle greyhound, stood at the top of the stairs on the far side of the courtyard.
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“John found you.”
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“Yes.”
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“Come in.? Show your friend his room, while I search the premises for drink.”
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The open door at the top of the stone stairs was medieval:? heavy planks, black iron bracing bars, hand-made square black nail heads.? It guarded a hall taking up the width of the courtyard, its timbered ceiling perhaps twenty feet off the uneven stone flags of the room’s floor.? It was rather like the hall at Trinity, but nearly barren of furniture and hung with spears and halberds, shields and banners, as if in preparation for a film about the War of the Roses.? There was a fireplace large enough to stand in opposite the door through which we had entered and small doorways at either end of the hall.? Watt made for the doorway on the right.? This opened into a tight spiral staircase, lit by the occasional gothic window, debauching through another thick planked medieval door into a perfectly ordinary boot-and-coat room.
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“Sorry about the theatre set.? Father likes collecting old bits of iron, flags and so forth.? The ‘banqueting hall’ was being used to store the farm equipment when we came here.”
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“Rather picturesque.”
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“I had never thought of that.? It is something an American would do, isn’t it?”?
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“Not in Woodstock.”
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“Your room is up these stairs—first on the left.? Drop your kit.? I’ll stay here.”
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I did as directed.? Another narrow Gothic doorway and plank door.? The room was rather like that which I had in College:? bed, desk, lamp, chair, a few pictures of cows.? It was too dark outside to see anything from the windows cut into the thick stone walls.? I poured some water into a basin, splashed some on my face, and went back downstairs.? Watt led the way through a heavily curtained door into a Victorian sitting room:? sea shells and small skeletons and two or three great curving bison horns; majolica, great bookcases rising ten feet to the intricately plastered ceilings, five or six longboy clocks; deeply upholstered sofas and chairs, table lamps in the form of anything other than a lamp.? Watt’s father was standing next to a drinks table:? Scotch, gin, sherry, Port, some odd green and amber sticky drinks.
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“Edmund will want Port.? What’s your drink?”
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“Claret at this hour if there is any to be had.”
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“Good.? I’ll keep you company.”
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When I lowered myself into one of the armchairs the huge brindle greyhound came up to me, his head nearly level with mine, stared, sniffed, then returned to settle himself rather clumsily at the feet of his master.? Watt said:? “The cattle getting on?”
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“Yes.? There hasn’t been much snow to speak of.”? He talked about cattle, sheep, the Government’s agriculture policies.? When my glass was empty he caught my eye and pointed at the drinks table.? I got up and poured myself another.
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After that, or after the next, Watt’s mother came in.? “You boys must be famished.? I hope you won’t mind a simple country meal.”? This to me.? I said that it sounded wonderful.?
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“We’re camping out in a little room through there,” gesturing.? “The posh dining room is leaking buckets and waterfalls.”
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During the meal Watt’s mother spoke about her sisters and her cousins and their children, all of whom seemed to possess only nicknames.? Neither Watt nor his father spoke at all.? The greyhounds lay about in corners.? By way of taking leave of us, Watt’s mother said that she expected we would go with her to look at the cattle in the morning.? Watt turned to me:? “You may find it of interest.”? I said how much I was looking forward to it.
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Watt and I met for breakfast in the same room in which we had dined the night before.? He explained that his mother got up very early, to attend to the livestock, while his father had gone to Newcastle for the day:? “I have no idea why.”? After we had worked our way through porridge and eggs and bacon and ham and various types of smoked and otherwise preserved fish, Watt said that he thought there were probably “boots and the rest” that would fit me in the room off the courtyard were such things lived.? There were.? When we were properly dressed for wading through deep rivers and climbing snow capped mountain peaks, we walked out under the portcullis and over the drawbridge to the drive, where we found that it was not exactly raining; it was more as if the air itself was liquid.
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“Sometimes it is worse.? It still may snow.”? Watt.
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Watt’s mother was there, accompanied by all three greyhounds.?? “Shall we go then?”? We set out in the direction opposite the station, the greyhounds coursing our route, rubbing sides as they ran like schooling fish.?? Near the castle the road was graveled, but this ran out fairly soon after we began walking through a pine wood.? The clouds were only a few yards over our heads, entangled in the trees higher up the hillside.? When we reached an ancient stone wall with a gate blocking the road, the greyhounds were left on guard duty while we continued up into the mist.?
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“There they are.? They’ve come down a bit since yesterday.”
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We had just entered a clearing.? On the other side, sheltered by ancient pines, there were half a dozen animals, most of whom were staring at us through the rain.? They had great curving horns and except for the inside of their ears, where the hair was reddish brown, they were covered with thick pelts of shaggy white hair.? Cattle, to be sure, but nothing like those on a Vermont dairy farm.? These looked, and acted, much more like large deer than domestic animals.
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Edmund, staring back at them:? “They’ve been here since the time of Edward I.? Herds like this were kept near castles for food in case of a siege.? These used to wander about between here and Berwick, like deer, or elk, I suppose.? When the wall was built around the Park this lot were trapped.? The color comes from that—most isolated groups of mammals go white, for some reason.? The group over there look to be cows with this year’s calves.? The main group will be around somewhere—the rest of the cows and the king bull.? Occasionally one comes across young bulls waiting their turn to challenge the king, or older bulls who have resigned themselves to a life of solitude, chastity and prayer.”
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“Some winters we have to give them hay.? Otherwise, they do quite well on their own.? When Edmund was a child he used to keep complicated genealogical charts.? I expect they are still somewhere about.”
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“And father, as you have seen, collects horns.”
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“He says it is what all married men eventually do, which I don’t believe is very flattering for his wife.”
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We spent the afternoon in one of the tower rooms of the castle—obviously Watt’s retreat during school holidays—cluttered with the usual boy’s games, sports and home-made scientific equipment.?? There was a desk under the window, a few shelves of books, some deeply upholstered and broken-down armchairs, all smelling of damp.? I said something about the family and the cattle.
“Not what it appears to be, you know.? The house was in mother’s family in the eighteenth century, then misplaced somehow.? Father’s money brought it back.? But, nonetheless, it is, as you have seen, mother’s life.? She hardly goes elsewhere.? He is most often in Newcastle.”
“Doing?”
“Ah, that’s the question, isn’t it?? Unfortunately the answer seems to be as prosaic as possible:? making money.? Swedish railroad shares, Swiss banks, Roumanian oil fields, obscure investments in East Africa and the Argentine.? Very big on East Africa.? Says it is like investing in India a century and a half ago.”
“Brothers, sisters?”
“None.? They apparently attempted it only once and were so horrified—or less likely, satisfied—with the result that they’ve never tried again.”
Silence.? Watt found a pipe among the debris on the desk.? After a search, tobacco, then matches.
“What had you said about me to your mother?”
“Nothing.? Can’t recall ever mentioning you.? She noticed your accent.”
“I see.”
“The fights between the king bulls and their challengers are impressive.? I saw it once, when I was twelve or fourteen. A bull came little way from the herd and started to bellow—perhaps “hoot” is a better word—and to paw up the ground.? The king bull came out and went through the same performance. Quite suddenly, one of them attacked, charging the other.? Then, oddly enough, they broke off and began grazing, only to suddenly once more begin the contest.? After two or three such rounds, the challenger slunk off into the woods, neither he nor the king much the worst for it.? But this past summer, mother says that one such defeated challenger, instead of returning quietly to the herd, came back bellowing.? The king bull and another came out of the herd and took on the stubborn challenger. The next morning Mother found the challenger dead with an eye out and his chest crushed to a pulp.”
“Perhaps,” I said, “An allegory or an omen.”
“That would be good, wouldn’t it?? But are our sympathies with the king bull or the challenger?? Or would we prefer both to lose?? Fiona would certainly say that we have had enough of king bulls or, for that matter,” looking around him, “castles and their owners.”
“Do you agree with her?”
“Do I agree with her?? I devote myself to puzzles and riddles.? Can random strings of letters, that is, of numbers, convey meaning?? If they can, can that meaning be teased out without a key?”
“Can it?”
“I think so, but I could be wrong.? It has been known to happen.”
November 12, 1939, Sunday
Lunch at Lord Cecil’s club, it being his turn in the rota.?
Jack:? “Such an incredible debacle on the Dutch border—two of our best men kidnapped by the Gestapo.? The only plum we’ve pulled from that pie is word of a German plan to invade Belgium via Maastricht.”
“Why invade Belgium?”
“Beer?”
“Mussels?”
“Gold and the road to Paris.”
Jack:? “A friend of mine says that it was worth trying.? There was a possibility that it would spark a coup d’etat among the Prussians of the General Staff.? Halifax and the PM were agreed.”
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Lord Cecil:? “And now Himmler knows every telephone number in New Scotland Yard.”
Jack:? “A lot of good it will do him.? They never answer when I call over there.”
November 20, 1939, Monday
The great Keynes has floated a war-finance plan based on compulsory savings for labour.? Labour don’t like it.
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November 25, 1939, Saturday
Jack:? “We are not like Americans, entranced by their own propaganda.? What we are really fighting for is our own existence and in the second place—if necessary far in the second place—for the principles we espouse.”
Lord Cecil:? “Nicely put, but not, I think, quite accurate, unless by “our own existence,” you mean, um, ah, the Empire, the Empire and our continuing? to occupy a seat at the high table.”
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A bit later.? Cecil:? “The American Congress has agreed to lift the embargo on arms sales.? It is looking like 1916 all over again:? we fight, they make money.”
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And sometime later.? Jack:? “The BBC staff has been evacuated, leaving only Sandy Macpherson at the BBC Theatre Organ.? We will tire of that before too long.”
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I ended the evening at Laura’s, which was no better taken care of than before.? I was awakened from a disturbing dreams and a deep sleep by the light coming on and then her fists hitting me on the chest as she shouted for me to “get out, go away, leave immediately!”? Which I did.? She looked quite mad.
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November 27, 1939, Monday
A violent rain-storm.
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November 29, 1939, Wednesday
King’s Speech opening Parliament.
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November 30, 1939, Thursday
Stalin has sent the Red Army into Finland.
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Jack:? “Halifax has moved into the Dorchester at a special rate of ￡23 per week.? Also Lady Cunard and Mrs. Ronnie Greville, Lords Camrose and Kemsley, Vincent Massey the Canadian High Commissioner, Air Chief Marshal Portal.? It is said to be bomb-proof.”
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Lord Cecil:? “Pity.”
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Jack:? “Careful.? Livia is talking about moving there as well.”
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Lord Cecil:? “Halifax has gotten his man, Stewart Menzies, as head of SIS over Churchill’s Admiral Godfrey.”
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Jack:? “Menzies was, of course, President of Pop and Captain of the Eton XI, Life Guards and now a member of White’s and married to Earl De La Warr’s daughter.”?
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Lord Cecil:? “And for whom did he fag at Eton?”
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