Epiphany II

The Epiphany, Giotto, circa 1320.

6 January 1942

COS as usual which included a long interview with Tennant who was captain of the Repulse, sunk off Singapore with the Prince of Wales. He was most interesting in the whole of his account of the action, which apparently lasted under 1 1/2 hours! Spotted at 6 am by reconnaissance plane, first attack shortly after 11 am, and sunk before 1 pm! In afternoon interview with Browning concerning Airborne Division and also special General Staff Committee under my chairmanship concerning tank development. I think we made some progress.
Dined with Dr Dalton (responsible for Special Operations Executive (SOE)) and discussed with him his sabotage activities in Europe under Gubbins, and also the question of raising local forces in Europe to be armed and equipped at the last moment. There is a great deal to be done in this direction at present and I don’t feel we are doing anything like enough. Finished up with one and a half hour’s work in WO. Home at midnight very tired and sleepy!

6 January 1943

A very trying COS arguing about landing craft figures produced by Mountbatten and Dudley Pound. The former was, as usual, confused in his figures and facts and the latter was as usual asleep! Chairmanship of the meeting was consequently difficult!!
You came up for lunch, which produced a very beautiful ray of sunshine in an otherwise very cloudy sky.
In afternoon visit from new Norwegian Military Attaché. All plans for the departure next Monday are progressing well. I foresee that I shall have a difficult time.

(Field Marshall, Lord Alanbrooke)

Thursday 6th January  1944

Awoke confronted by a blank, empty day. Bill Tufnell call and gave me a dozen or so bottles of rare wine from the Langley’s cellars, a most welcome present! He is lonely and touchingly grateful for all the parties here. I want never to give another.
Yesterday at Lesley & Roberts, my tailors, who are still the most fashionable ones in London, I ran into Colonel (as he now is) Arthur Penn. I cut him dead, this male old maid who has always been so correct, so snobbish and humourless has a disastrous influence on Sovereigns. So long as they were only the Yorks, he was unknown outside a certain ‘landed’ section of London society where his ribald humour and pointless jokes were even appreciated. With their elevation, he likes to interfere with their friendships and activities; he is narrow-minded, unintellectual, a suppressed (I think) pansy; malicious and out of date. The K and Q adore him; he is a court mandarin; but he knows nobody outside his small circle whose importance daily dwindles. He shoots well and for forty years has been invited to weekend and shooting parties, where his alleged high spirits have enlivened the dull wits of his high-born friends. I have always hated him, loathed him for more than twenty years and have often said so and done him as much mischief as possible.
I went for a short walk and ran into the long, lanky, languorous Lord Tavistock in Belgrave Square. He was carrying his infant red-headed son in his arms. The child, I must say, looks curiously distinguished, like an Infante by Velázquez. On my return to No. 5 I had a surprise. For weeks like Richard II, I have had a strange, uneasy premonition that something unpleasant was going to happen – ‘Yet again methinks some unborn sorrow ripe in fortune’s womb is coming towards me and my inward soul with nothing trembles’. Well in a way it has come in the shape of a letter from my mother-in-law saying that she and Lord Iveagh withdraw their opposition to a divorce, that I am now free, that the decision now lies with me. What shall I do? I dread it; yet feel deep down that to go through with it is the wisest course.

(“Chips” Channon)

January 6, 1945

We had  George Mercer Nairne to lunch. There was a wonderful dish of truffles. We dined with the Bourdets. Loulou was there. I sat between her and Madame Bourdet. I thought she made our relationship all too obvious, but perhaps others didn’t notice it. She was more charming than ever, and afterwards was persuaded to read some of her poems aloud. They had a tremendous success with everyone. It was Twelfth Night and we ate la galette – the prize fell to me. Loulou made us paper crowns out of newspaper and I crowned Madame Bourdet queen.

(Duff Cooper)

6 January 1945

Arrived home in time for lunch, and attended your lovely party for the children.

(Field Marshall, Lord Alanbrooke)

To Diana Cooper         Little Clavey’s, Mells, Frome
XIIth Night 1947

This morning I got out my precatory paper – what’s a precatory paper?
It’s what lawyers call the testator’s wishes apart from the actual will – and added to my precatory paper that Debo should have my Primrose McConnell. She asked me to leave it to her. I said wouldn’t you prefer jewelry? But she said, no – merely Primrose McConnell. It is a compendium or handbook of farming rules and statistics. I don’t know how she knew about McConnell or that I had one. I can only suppose I shewed it to her here at the farm. If so, a good many years ago. I suppose my Primrose McConnell may find a home in the Chatsworth library. Unless Debo leaves a precatory paper asking that it may be buried with her.

(Conrad Russell)

January 6, 1950

I cannot drink as much as I used to. The fact has got to be faced. I really didn’t have very much last night but I felt very much the worse for it this morning. It may be that my liver is in bad condition, which seems to be the case with most people in France.

(Duff Cooper)