Dearest thank you very much for the books--Psmith in the City 18 has been making me laugh aloud. By the way, he arrived yesterday and the other three this afternoon although according to your letter you posted the three first. The oranges came too, and the fats.19 I think you're being too generous but as the oranges have come I'm going to eat them. Blackburn got some the other day and I gave all mine and most of Richard's to the children so they're all right for the moment. Richard has the juice of half an orange every other day and Mary has his other half and Laurence a whole one.
This is being typed under difficulties as Mary is on my knee and trying to contribute.
Tomorrow I'm going to Newcastle, primarily to see the man in charge of Welfare Foods for the North of England. So far as I can see I can't get Richard's back orange juice as Stockton Food Office has stolen the coupons, but I hope to arrange that they won't bring off the same coup again. I now have some reason to think that they take orange juice out of stock on these extra coupons and sell it but of course I'm not proposing to mention this theory to Watkins. I'm also going to three food meetings and two infant welfare clinics with Nell.20 If I stay the course. It will be very interesting and I hope profitable because I ought to lay hold of some Ostermilk 21 somewhere.
Don't bother about blankets. I've bought two from Binns' in Sunderland--they cost 22/- each and are more like rugs than blankets but they'll do quite well. I hope to make one into a frock for myself. They're dark grey which isn't I think the colour of choice for blankets but they'll come in useful one way or another and they're certainly cheap. I hope you have enough at home and are not economising by leaving out the underblanket because without that you'll be cold if you have a dozen on top of you.
The playpen has come and all the children are entranced by it. Richard laughed heartily as soon as he was put in and then the others joined him and there was a riot. I don't know how he'll take to it when he is left alone but I think he'll be OK. I have made him some strings of beads which he passionately loves and he will now play by himself quite happily for as long as you like. He's had more trouble with his teeth but no more are through. He might have another couple by the 21st though. As for his appetite, he ate for his lunch the same food as Mary and very nearly the same quantity, but he didn't want his milk. I'd just announced that I was going to replace the midday milk by water so this came very aptly. But I've had to replace the cereal after his evening bath. I gave him Farex 22 for a couple of nights and the last two he has had MOF again made much thinner. When he had just milk he was restless at night and screaming for his late feed by nine o'clock. So I'm just going to risk his getting overweight--he's still below the average for his age and length I'm sure. He's beginning to drink cows' milk instead of Ostermilk but I can't go ahead with this as fast as I might because I'm terrified that he'll turn against the Ostermilk and we'll be dependent on that when we're in London. The other thing that doesn't progress well is his drinking. He's much worse at it since he had the teeth. But I think part of the trouble is that he can't manage the mug which he's supposed to use now. I'll try to buy one or two cups or mugs in Newcastle (I'm staying the night there and coming back on Friday to fit all these things in).
I've been dressed every day since you went away but I've done very little else except give Richard most of his food and have him for his social between five and six and play with Mary for half an hour or so after feeding Richard because she's so jealous of him, quite naturally. This morning [Handwritten] At this point typing became impossible--I am now in the train but I got your wire last night (Wed). I hope you'll be able to do the Court 23 but of course you mustn't mess up the French trip.
Could you ring me up on Friday or Saturday evening? It's quite easy-- Stillington, Co. Durham, 29. A trunk call of course--you dial TRU & ask for the number. Then we can talk about the plans. Unless of course you're coming up this weekend which would be nice. I'll be home at Greystone on Friday afternoon.
Eileen24
[XVII, 2638, pp. 95-103; typed and handwritten]
1.Greystone was the O'Shaughnessy family home. Joyce Pritchard, the O'Shaughnessys' nanny, told Ian Angus in a letter of 27 September 1967 that Eileen visited Greystone frequently between July 1944 (when the children were taken there) and March 1945.
2.Laurence (born 13 November 1938) was the son of Gwen* and Laurence O'Shaughnessy,* both doctors. Eileen was the sister of the elder Laurence.
3.George Kopp,* Orwell's commander in Spain, married Gwen O'Shaughnessy's half-sister Doreen Hunton. He and Doreen lived a few doors away from the Orwells in Canonbury Square so he had not got far to go to collect the mail, but he failed to forward it.
4.Raymond Blackburn was gardener and odd-job man at Greystone.
5.Harry Evers was Eileen's surgeon.
6.Gwen O'Shaughnessy's husband (see n. 2).
7.Eileen owned a house, Ravensden, at Harefield, Middlesex; this was let. See her letter of 25 March 1945 (XVII, 2642), and for a reference to its disposal, 11 January 1946 (XVIII, 2856, p. 33).
8.Evelyn Anderson, foreign editor of Tribune. She had studied at Frankfurt and came to England as a refugee. Orwell had 'volunteered Eileen's help . . . in correcting her English for a book' (Crick, p. 446). This was Hammer or Anvil: The Story of the German Working-Class Movement, reviewed by Orwell in the Manchester Evening News, 30 August 1945 (XVIII, 2734, pp. 271-3).
9.Presumably Miss Sparrow was a secretary at the Ministry of Food, where Eileen had worked until June 1944.
10.George Mason was a surgeon and one-time colleague of Laurence O'Shaughnessy.
11.In his Diary for 20 June 1940 Orwell writes, 'Thinking always of my island in the Hebrides' (see Diaries, pp. 257 and 258). This may have been prompted by his reviewing Priest Island by E.L. Grant Wilson on 21 June 1940 (XII, 640, pp. 190-1). Jura itself was doubtless chosen because it was recommended by David Astor who owned land there. He also suggested Barnhill which had been empty for several years. Avril describes Barnhill in her letter of 1.7.46.
12.Margaret Fletcher (1917-; later Mrs Nelson) went to Jura with her husband, Robin, when he inherited the Ardlussa Estate, on which stood Barnhill.
13.Garrigill, a village near Alston, Cumbria, about midway between Penrith and Hexham.
14.Catherine Mary, Gwen O'Shaughnessy's adopted daughter, who was known as Mary until her cousin, Mary Kopp was born, when she took Catherine as her first name. She was also known as 'Mamie'.
15.Orwell had taken P.G. Wodehouse and his wife to a small restaurant near Les Halles in Paris.
16.Eileen and Orwell had hoped to adopt a little girl as a sister to Richard.
17.Raymond Blackburn, son of Mrs Blackburn, the housekeeper.
18.Psmith in the City, a novel by P.G. Wodehouse (1910) is discussed by Orwell in 'In Defence of P.G. Wodehouse' (XVII, 2624, pp. 51-63).
19.Oranges were unobtainable for most of the war and fats were severely rationed. A special allowance of concentrated orange juice was made available to children as a Welfare Food.
20.Not identified with certainty, but probably Nell Heaton, a friend of Eileen's. They met when they worked together at the Ministry of Food. In 1947 Nell Heaton published The Complete Cook, the foreword of which states: 'I owe a debt of gratitude . . . to George Orwell and Emily Blair, to whose sympathy and encouragement I owe so much.' Eileen was known as Emily at the Ministry of Food.
21.Ostermilk is a proprietary brand of milk powder for babies.
22.Farex is a proprietary brand of food for newly weaned babies.
23.This may possibly mean attend Court in connection with the final formalities for Richard's adoption, although Eileen, in her letter to Lettice Cooper (23.3.45), says 'Richard's adoption was through'. An alternative possibility is the kind of law court Orwell refers to in his report, 'Creating Order out of Cologne Chaos', Observer, 25 March 1945 (XVII, 2641, pp. 106-7).
24.The signature is an indecipherable scrawl.
Eileen Blair* to Lettice Cooper*
23 Marc
h 1945 or thereabouts
Greystone
Carlton
Dear Lettice,
I'm sorry about the paper and the typewriter but Mary got at both. You practically can't buy paper here so I can't waste that and although I could do something about the machine I am bored with it after about twenty minutes spent in collecting the ribbon and more or less replacing it. A typewriter ribbon is the longest thing in the world. It will go round every chair leg in a good sized house. So I've just discovered.
Richard was delighted with his coat and it will see him through the summer. He was just getting very short of jackets because he is so large. Mary's cast-offs will hardly go on, knitted things anyway. He took over her nightgowns the day after she inherited some pyjamas of Laurence's and even those aren't at all too big. He's still backward but has great charm which will be a lot more useful to him than talent. And he is not so stupid as Mogador 1 because he found out about pulling trucks by their strings before he was ten months old and is now investigating the principles of using one object to drag nearer or to pick up another. He's a hard worker.
I really would have written sooner but I came up to London about a fortnight ago to see my dentist so I thought I'd ring you up. Then I got ill and rang no one up and finished with all kinds of dramas at the Ministry. On the way up I went to see a Newcastle surgeon because as Richard's adoption was through I thought I might now deal with the grwothdeg (no one could object to a grwoth) I knew I had. He found it or rather them without any difficulty and I'm going into his nursing home next week for the removal. I think the question about the hysterectomy is answered because there is hardly any chance that the tumours can come out without more or less everything else removable. So that on the whole is a very good thing. It was worth coming to the north country because there is to be none of the fattening up in hospital before the operation that I was to have in London. London surgeons love preparing their patients as an insurance against unknown consequences. I think they're all terrified of their knives really--probably they have a subconscious hope that the patient will die before getting as far as the theatre and then they can't possibly be blamed. In London they said I couldn't have any kind of operation without a preparatory month of blood transfusions etc.; here I'm going in next Wednesday to be done on Thursday. Apart from its other advantages this will save money, a lot of money. And that's as well. By the way, if you could write a letter that would be nice. Theoretically I don't want any visitors, particularly as I can't get a private room; in practice I'll probably be furious that no one comes--and no one can because such friends as I have in Newcastle will be away for the school holidays. So if you have time write a letter to Fernwood House, Clayton Road, Newcastle. It's a mercy George is away--in Cologne at the moment. George visiting the sick is a sight infinitely sadder than any disease-ridden wretch in the world.
[Handwritten] I hate to think that you are no longer at the Ministry & that this will be the last extract from Miss Tomkins' conversation. I clearly remember the sweetly pretty painting of snowdrops.
Tell me whether the flat materialises. It sounds perfect. Incidentally if you want somewhere to work or to live for that matter, use our flat which is rotting in solitude. Doreen Kopp 2, who lives at 14A Cannonburydeg Square, has the key. Ours is 27B Cannonbury Square. And her telephone number is CAN 4901. She has a son, very large, with the hair and hands of a talented musician. I expected to be jealous but find that I didn't prefer him to Richard, preferable though he is. To return to the flat, Doreen can tell you whatever you don't know about its amenities, which don't include sheets. The last lot have disappeared since I came North. But you could have a peat fire which is a nice thing.
Raymond Blackburn is going to Stockton & he must carry this in his hand. It has taken about a week to write . . .3 But all this time we have been thanking you for Richard's present, he & I.
Lots of love
Emily4
[XVII, 2640, pp. 104-5; typed and handwritten]
1.Unidentified, but possibly a grand form of 'Moggie' and therefore the blue cat Eileen refers to in her letter of 21.3.45.
2.Doreen Kopp, half-sister of Doctor Gwen O'Shaughnessy, and wife of George Kopp*.
3.As in the original; nothing has been omitted.
4.'Emily' was the pet-name by which Eileen was known at the Ministry of Food.
Eileen Blair* to her husband
25 March 1945
Greystone
Carlton
Dearest
I'm trying to get forward with my correspondence because I go into the nursing home on Wednesday (this is Sunday) & of course I shan't be ready. It's impossible to write or do anything else while the children are up. I finish reading to Laurence about a quarter to eight (tonight it was five to eight), we have supper at 8 or 8.15, the 9 o'clock news now must be listened to & lasts till at least 9.30 (the war reports the last two nights have been brilliant1) & then it's time to fill hotwater bottles etc. because we come to bed early. So I write in bed & don't type. Incidentally I did while explaining the poaching laws as I understand them to Laurence make my will 2--in handwriting because handwritten wills are nearly always valid. It is signed & witnessed. Nothing is less likely than that it will be used but I mention it because I have done an odd thing. I haven't left anything to Richard. You are the sole legatee if you survive me (your inheritance would be the Harefield house which ought to be worth a few hundreds, that insurance policy, & furniture). If you don't, the estate would be larger & I have left it to Gwen absolutely with a note that I hope she will use it for Richard's benefit but without any legal obligation. The note is to convince Richard that I was not disinheriting him. But I've done it that way because I don't know how to devise the money to Richard himself. For one thing, there has been no communication from the Registrar General so I suppose Richard's name is still Robertson. For another thing he must have trustees & I don't know who you want & they'd have to be asked. For another, if he is to inherit in childhood it's important that his trustees should be able to use his money during his minority so that he may have as good an education as possible. We must get all this straightened out properly when you come home but I thought I must cover the possibility that you might be killed within the next few days & I might die on the table on Thursday. If you're killed after I die that'll be just too bad but still my little testament will indicate what I wanted done. Gwen's results in child-rearing have not been encouraging so far but after the war she will have a proper house in the country containing both the children & herself, she loves Richard & Laurie adores him. And all the retainers love him dearly. I'm sure he would be happier in that household than with Marjorie though I think Marjorie would take him on. Avril I think & hope would not take him on anyway. That I couldn't bear.3 Norah & Quartus4 would have him & bring him up beautifully but you've never seen either of them. Quartus is in India & I can't arrange it. So in all the circumstances I thought you would agree that this would be the best emergency measure.
RICHARD HAS SIX TEETH. Also he got hold of the playpen rail when I was putting him in & stood hanging on to it without other support. But he doesn't really know at all how to pull himself up so don't expect too much. Yesterday Nurse & I took all three to the doctor for whooping cough injections. He lives about 21/2-3 miles away, partly across fields. We got lost & had to cross ploughland. The pram wouldn't perambulate & neither would Mary. She sat in a furrow & bellowed until carried. Laurence cried to be carried too . . . 5 Laurence however didn't cry when the needle went in but Mary did and made an enormous pool on the surgery floor. Richard was done last. He played with a matchbox on my knee, looked at the doctor in some surprise when his arm was gripped & then turned to me in astonishment as though to say 'Why is this apparently nice man sticking needles into me? Can it be right?' On being told it was he looked up at the doctor again rather gravely--& then smiled. He didn't make a sound & he was perfectly good all day too, though his arm is sort of bruised. The other two unfortunately remembered that they'd
been injected & screamed in agony if either arm was touched. It was a happy day.
But Richard did a terrible thing. He will not use his pot, nearly always goes into a tantrum when put on it & if he does sit on it does nothing more. The tooth upset his inside a bit too. After lunch I sent the other two to bed & left Richard in his playpen while I helped wash up. Then there were cries of agony. He had done what Mary calls tick-tocks for the third time, got his hands in it & put his hands in his mouth. I tried to wash his mouth out, hoping he'd be sick. But no. He seemed to swallow most of the water I poured in, so it was worse than useless. In the end I scoured his mouth with cotton wool, gave him some boiled water & hoped for the best. And he is very well. Poor little boy. And I was sorry for myself too. I was sick. Blackburn however says a lot of children do this every day - - - - -6
I haven't had a copy of Windmill 7 & I haven't had a proof. Surely you said they were sending a proof. And I failed to get the Observer one week which must have been the relevant one. I've also failed to get today's but shall get it I hope.
Your letter with the Animal Farm document came yesterday & I've sent the enclosure on to Moore. He will be pleased. This is much the quickest exchange we've had.