It was December 1929. My mother has been in London for some weeks now, still visiting the Tate and the Victoria and Albert. She just loves painting and really anything to do with art and craft. They had been visiting schools in London hoping for a job but had found their NZ university qualifications were not recognized there. Louie, her sister got a job in the South of France. The only name Mum writes is “Mlle van Rysselberghe who is Louie’s employer. I have since found out very interestingly that she, Elisabeth, was the mistress of Andre Gide. They had a daughter, Catherine and Louie was to be her governess. Elisabeth was much younger than him being the daughter of one of his great friends, Maria. Gide, “22 November 1869 – 19 February 1951) was a French author and winner of the Nobel Prize in literature in 1947. Gide's career ranged from its beginnings in the symbolist movement, to the advent of anticolonialism between the two World Wars.” He was a friend of Oscar Wilde and indeed shared the same leanings. There was a lot of Russian and communistic influence at that time and Louie met a man who took her back to Russia where she lived till her death in the 1990’s. I believe Diana Mitford, one of the Mitford sisters was also involved in this particular movement Its all very strange.
Anyway Mum had to contend with her sister leaving and she writes after being out walking; “Home again – our last night together so we made the best of it and did not go to bed very early. How I dread the morrow, the mere thought of that brings mistiness to my eyes which as yet, I cannot control.” The next day after seeing Louie off in the train to Dover, she consoled herself by visiting Westminster. She writes about the miserere seats: “The guide also told us that the monks were never allowed to sit down during the service hence these seats. If they dozed and leaned too heavily, down the thing would go with a bang” and….”We were next escorted into the Norman crypt of which some has been restored by Christopher Wren. The church school is just overhead. I wish I could remember more but can't. Anyway it's all in the book, I left the old bird without a tip but the other lady with a little girl produced hers.”
She spent the Christmas of 1929 at Lockskinners Farm near Cheddington where she had previously visited on her travels and made friends with the family. It was a true English Christmas with holly and ‘yule’ logs in the enormous fireplace, a dinner of roast goose, sprouts and roast potatoes followed by plum pudding. She loved the area and wrote; “To be able to walk along English lanes with those hedges on either side, Oakes, beaches, birches, Willows, all near and to look down on the River Eden sometimes just a thread and sometimes spreading itself over adjacent fields was indeed a privilege.”
I believe that she had a job lined up in Leicester at Broom Leys school – hence the photo.
I shall not write about the rest of the diary as it is not as interesting and of course, she meets a heap of new people that I don’t know. I think she actually met her second husband here, though – I’ve yet to find out!
my word maggiemae good job your mum didn't go to Russia too, you would have been born in Russia!!! Her second husband, how many did she have...was your dad her third? So interesting & of course 1929 the height of the Communist movement, must have been head turning for some young ladies at that time. Love all this history!
Wonderful old photo!
Fascinating as always. I love this period in history and wish I had the good fortune of being born at the turn of the last century so I could have lived it myself.
What a wonderful shot and interesting journal entry. How I do love reading about what life was like back then. Takes you back to that time :) very cool :)
I love reading your mother's words. She sure had some fascinating experiences. And the photo is wonderful. (I am currently writing my husband's history--taking a lot of time, but so fun--sure not as interesting as your mother's, but I know our children and grandchildren will enjoy reading it.)
@happypat My dad in NZ was her first husband and was for 50 years but then she went back to England and married her first love whose wife had since died.
@cromwell They seemed to have so much help - porters to carry the bags, waiters and butlers in restaurants, men to look after the car, guides to see the sights!
Wonderful old photo!