Lady Jones, CBE (1889-1981)
Enid Bagnold was born in Kent on 27th October 1889, three years before Silvia. The two girls were brought up in a military environment and shared strikingly similar upbringings. Their early years were spent overseas – Enid in Jamaica and Silvia in Malta. Back in the UK, their family homes were near Woolwich Arsenal. Enid’s father was a Colonel with the Royal Engineers. Silvia’s father, Fausset, was a Surgeon in (what later became) the Army Medical Corps. Enid had a younger brother, Ralph, who joined the army and, in 1940, founded the Long-Range Desert Group. Likewise, Silvia had a younger brother, Arthur, who was a Major in the Indian Army.
Enid and Silvia were both sent to minor boarding schools. Enid attended Priors Field (1902-1906), a small progressive school run by Julia Huxley, mother of Aldous & Julian. Silvia was at the Royal School in Bath (1903-1911). The two of them later established careers for themselves in an age when middle-class working women were in the minority. They didn’t fit easily into the higher echelons of society but they loved the theatre – Enid as a playwright and Silvia as an actress. They had a wide circle of friends made up of artists, poets and writers.
Enid Bagnold by Dorothy Wilding.
Image taken from front cover of Anne Seeba’s Biography about Enid.
According to Silvia in Journey to Yesterday, she first met Enid at a dinner in Greenwich Naval College. It was held in the Admiral’s House, where Admiral Frederick W. Fisher lived. He was also known as ‘Uncle Bill’ and was a close friend of Silvia’s mother. Enid and Silvia’s friendship is patchy but, over time, we learn from snippets of correspondence in Enid’s hasty letters to Silvia, as well as in some of Silvia’s letters to the Hodgsons, that they had a deep fondness for each other. Most of the correspondence (see below) is held in the Beinecke Library.
Enid was a literary force in the first half of the 20thC; plenty has been written about her achievements but, unlike Virginia Woolf, she is no longer a household name. After school, Enid went to study art at the Slade School. She became part of Walter Sickert’s art group in Camden Town but her talent for writing took over and she turned to journalism. In 1911 she worked for Frank Harris, a publisher (and infamous womanizer). Enid’s mentor at the time, Ralph Hodgson, had no time for Harris. As a result, Hodgson wouldn’t speak to her for at least a year. Instead, he wrote one of his best-known poems called Eve,* might have been based on Enid’s infatuation with Harris.
Subsequently, during WW1, Enid was a VAD nurse. Soon after, in 1920, she married Sir Roderick Jones who had been a journalist in South Africa. In 1916 he moved to London to take over Reuters which he part-owned and managed for 25 years. They had 4 children and led hectic lives, based at their homes in Knightsbridge and Sussex.
In the 1930s, along with other members of the social élite with whom she mingled, Enid’s sympathies grew in favour of the Nazi regime. She admired Hitler and, in 1933, even went so far as to visit Germany in order to learn more about the movement. This may have been at odds with Silvia & Athole as they developed links with artists and architects who, having fled Germany, took refuge in the UK** (notably around Hampstead).
Another contrast is that, whilst Enid and Silvia had a similar start to life and went on to marry ‘well’, they were dealt a different set of cards which influenced both their work and legacy. Silvia’s father died when she was only 9 years old and her husband died after just 5 years of marriage. Whereas, Enid’s father lived for 89 years and her marriage to Roderick lasted 42 years. The long-lasting support, of both husband and father, may have given Enid an emotional strength which eluded Silvia.
Enid’s most successful book, National Velvet, tells the story of a teenage girl who trains and rides her horse to victory in the Grand National. It was a best-seller for many years and adapted into a film starring Elizabeth Taylor. In the 1960s, it evolved into an American television series and a film sequel followed in 1978, called International Velvet.
Enid died on March 31, 1981 aged 92. Roderic Jones died on 23rd January 1962 aged 84. They both died in London and were buried in Rottingdean.
*see Dreaming of Babylon by John Harding p71
**https://www.tate.org.uk/tate-etc/issue-45-spring-2019/emigre-artists-monica-bohm-duchen
Correspondence, 1916 - 1970
The correspondence below is more like a Timeline. In some cases, the ‘snippets’ may, unintentionally, misrepresent the wider context. Taken together, however, they reflect a caring friendship which both Enid & Silvia valued. Alternatively, the passages could just be summarised – but that would take away the immediacy of the sentiments of each correspondent and their endings which evolve from being formal to loving…
Enid’s text is blue. Her typed letters are usually signed off in ink. Silvia’s text is purple and Aurelia’s, at the end, is green. Names or Places in turquoise have a hyperlink. Some obvious ‘typos’ have been corrected or put in brackets.
1916 or 17 – during WW1
29th December (handwritten from Shooters Hill). Enid describes working in a hospital where there are 1000 men & 100 Officers. I love it there. I can’t tell you how I love it. The freedom of it is so wonderful. It’s the discipline that gives one the freedom: no one inquiring into your thoughts, only your actions. Enid passed Silvia’s messages on to her parents and lets her know that they send you all New Year wishes – and so do I. Yours Enid Bagnold.
1920 – Marriage to Sir Roderick Jones, 8th July (he was knighted in 1918 for services to journalism)
1921 – Laurien born 9th Oct 1921
1924 – Timothy born 19th May; the family moved into North End House, Rottingdean, Sussex
Sept 23rd (typed from Rottingdean, on Shooters Hill paper). No year given but it was soon after Tim was born. There is a detailed and complimentary note about Silvia’s Carnaby Prints (a booklet with folding pages publ 1924).
Silvia darling, I am astounded. I think your drawings are wonderful, wonderful. They are like Gaudier Brzeska’s used to be… I never saw such soft doe’s legs, such feline cats, such cruel eyes, such legs lying close-packed to bodies, such heavy tails full of meat and bone. …Its marvellous, astonishing, what you have done. You strange wonderful creature, not liking animals, sitting at the zoo hugging every observation close, and arriving at this pitch of knowledge and drawing. The birds are almost the best. Especially one sitting duck, which if anyone else had drawn it, would have looked a muddled lump but is so full of shape inside its outlines that you can feel every lump on its wings and the way it is folded up. Yes, your beasts are so folded. They lie packed with their limbs against their bellies and yet ready to move along.
Enid recognises there is a purity about the drawings, as advocated by Ralph Hodgson (RH), and continues with a Sickert quote about Art. She wants to talk about it all with Silvia and even suggests writing a description about her in a paper…all about your uncles and the way you are fed by the ravens. On manna it is (see Elijah story, 1 Kings 17). She wants to buy lots of copies in order to buck up sales. She finishes by reiterating the book is full of fine drawings. Go on, dip your head down again and go on. I am so happy about you and your drawing. I always knew you could and would, and here it is. Enid.
-Roderick is furious. He says he adored the drawings and I have forgotten to tell you so. And he says he especially loved the birds.
1926 – Richard born, 10th May
1927
Feb 9th – Post 1927? (handwritten by Silvia from 10 Alfred Place to RH in Japan). I lunched with Enid the other day. She was tremendously refreshing, like no one else.
Dec 27th (typed from Rottingdean, on paper from 12 Arlington Street, St James SW1). Silvia has sent a book for the children – the loveliest Edward Lear in leather. Bless you Silvia. I love your present. When we are old women we’ll nod by the fire and say over our lovers. You, RH, Desmond, Irene and me… We’ll all sit by the fire. This is followed by a delightful sketch of two of them, sitting by a roaring fire. Desmond is Desmond McCarthy, theatre critic and part of the Bloomsbury set. Irene is not known but may have been a neighbour of the Bagnolds in Woolwich.
1930 – Dominick born, 18th August
July 29th (Handwritten from Rottingdean with a sketch of Enid looking heavily pregnant). Judging by the date, it is likely to be 3 weeks before Dominick was born. Darling – I saw the card & longed to go. But I’m beyond that now. I can only pant… Good luck darling… Love Enid
1933 – Enid & Roderick attend Silvia & Athole’s wedding in Chelsea
1936-37 – King Edward VIII abdicates in December.
Dec 28th 1936 (handwritten letter; Silvia to the Hodgsons). Initially written from Skurkhill, Helmsley, Yorkshire, staying with her in-laws. It describes walking around the farmland in tweeds plus walking sticks – but then, as a result of ‘flu, the letter continues back in London on…
…Jan 14th 1937. Silvia writes that she spent the night with Enid at Rottingdean before Christmas. She was exactly the same. Of course we talked about both of you & wished you’d come home. It seems that Enid had suffered from a type of hay fever which caused skin irritation on her face. It meant that over a period of 4 years she wore a veil for eight months of each year but, in the end, rather enjoyed the release from social obligations. Evidently, Enid tried to press Silvia into having a child or adopting one. Thinks that when I am 50 & Athole is 41, my life may be a desert. However, Athole is appalled at the idea… Without further explanation she goes on to say they really are going to build a National Theatre at last.
1938-1944: Silvia’s global travels coincide with WW2
1949
Aug 22nd (typed postcard, on both sides, from Rottingdean). Thank you darling for the Soneryl (sedative). I took both – and for some quaint reason they kept me awake all night. Trying, when you had denuded yourself and spared me two. She also thanks Silvia for her beautiful book (= Alone and Loitering) and then waxes eloquent about the imagination, spirituality, caressing hands and ardent feet, inscrutable eyes, swellings and valleys of bodies and silk laid over all like a dream… The cocks specially are so wonderful, so economic and proud and certain. With your easy writing you should do much more…
In the book, Silvia describes being treated for appendicitis in Calcutta in 1941. Enid thinks the hospital bits are the best. I suppose you felt the most. Put everything down about life. Put down how you came here and watched me, that I had grown old and wondered about yourself… those sorts of things.
I think the ease and richness of writing gets better and better… Come again soon… Much love Enid
1952
Nov 25th (drawing on headed paper – RMMV Athlone Castle, Union Castle). There is a rough sketch of mountains in the distance with an ‘S’ half way up, followed by a cartoon image of ship with Enid waving. Dearest Silvia, Yesterday I saw you sunbathing on Tenerife as I pounded by to Cape town & I sent you my love. Enid.
1955
Oct 13th (typed on headed paper from “The Benjamin Franklin – honoring a great name – Chestnut Street at Ninth, Philadelphia 5”). It is in response to two letters from Silvia about a dream she had had about Enid. Most of the letter is taken up with details of Enid’s demanding schedule centred on her play called The Chalk Garden which is on tour along the American East Coast. Work begins in her hotel room at 7am with her maddening intelligent woman-producer. The performance is at 8pm and so she doesn’t get to bed until midnight. Enid ends by saying This is to send you my love – always… Enid
Nov 27th (handwritten letter, possibly from Santa Clara in Spain, Silvia to Hodgsons). I wonder if you have seen notices of Enid’s play ‘The Chalk Farm’. I heard it was a success in New York. I had a wonderful letter from her from Philadelphia. She ended up ‘with love always’ which delighted me, because our lives have drifted apart in the course of 40 years.
1956
July 6th (typed post card from Rottingdean). Oh dear Silvia… How lovely to hear from you. You are always the same… a note of something special in your talk and in every letter. Thank you for not sleeping. That was wonderful. Come and help me with this next Wednesday. I have a rash all over my face (from success!). Love Enid
1961
Nov 10th (handwritten airmail letter: Silvia to Hodgsons)
I never see Enid. I seem to have offended her unwittingly at a Pen* Club party she gave 3 years ago. (This must have been the 3 years before Roderick died). I so clearly remember the first time I saw her. She wore a pink evening dress & sat on the other side of the dinner table at the Royal Naval College, & I looked at her between the flowers & the lighted candles & thought “Oh Hell, how pretty you are!”
*PEN originally stood for “Poets, Essayists, Novelists”, but now stands for “Poets, Playwrights, Editors, Essayists, Novelists” and includes writers of any form of literature, such as journalists and historians.]
1962 – Enid’s husband dies on 23rd January.
Feb 1st (dictated from 29 Hyde Park Gate) Darling Silvia, You say “don’t answer this letter~ but I will just send you one line like a wave of the hand. Thank you for writing and there is one thing I want and that is to see you again when the first rush of all that I have to do is over. She mentions having written a long letter to Hodgson and, following her husband’s death the previous week, adds a handwritten note (which she couldn’t dictate) saying that it’s been awful. And is.
Feb 28th (typed post card from 29 Hyde Park Gate) Darling Silvia, Why don’t you come and have a little (badly cooked) dinner with Richard (3rd son) and me almost any night? Would you? Or if its too cold at night come and have tea or a drink. Following her bereavement, Enid is struggling with the dullness as well as the unhappiness of life and misses Roderick who always kept her ‘on the jump’. She is cheered up by Silvia’s comment that “one does unbelievably become happy again“. Bless you. Do Come. Love Enid
March 6th (typed from 29 Hyde Park Gate) On receipt of a newspaper report about Ralph Hodgson’s 90th birthday. Darling Silvia… Gosh he sounds dreary. The photographs are wonderful. I remember, though I loved and admired him, I always noticed the governess side… He is a real and brilliant creature in a streak. But the other steaks are normal and annoying. Is this sacrile(d)ge? Enid wants to see Silvia – but when.. suggests at five one day when the light goes? She sounds a bit depressed in a tunnel… (where) there wasn’t a speck of light. But ends commending Silvia: Bless you. You are exactly as you always were. That soft chuckle, the rueful gaiety, the ability to say anything in answer to anything. I believe you are the centre of an adoring Circle. Love Enid
March 26th (handwritten airmail letter from Silvia in London to Hodgsons in Ohio). I saw Enid the other day, & thought you would like news of her. I hadn’t seen her for some time. She is shattered by Roderick’s death, but even so she gives out vitality & is wonderful to be with. I had forgotten how blue her eyes are…
1963 (probably)
Aug 7th (… Handwritten letter from Silvia to Enid. No address) Dearest Enid, I have just dragged “The Princess of Chandernagore” out of the cupboard… Silvia had submitted the manuscript to the recently appointed script editor for BBC Radio 4, Richard Imison. Evidently, the BBC were interested – but, as its format wasn’t suitable for radio, they suggested she find a collaborator to work on it. Hence, her writing to Enid to see if she might consider adapting the story. The play came into being when Silvia was in Calcutta/Kolkata in the early 1940s. She wrote it in conjunction with Percy Brown (1927-1955) a scholar and art historian who, at the time, was Curator of the Victoria Memorial Hall in Calcutta. The letter ends hoping that Enid will be in Kensington soon as it would be lovely to see you. Yours ever Silvia
1964
Feb 6th (typed from Rottingdean) Oh alas, darling Silvia, I did write you and sent you a review (but muddled up the address) …. Senile from voyage and effort and play. Oh dear your show ends tomorrow… And tomorrow I have heating experts at 3pm and have to cook dinner for evening. I could have rearranged all that if only I hadn’t been such an ass about address…. I would have loved to have seen your show. How much are they? I’ll buy one on your recommendation. Just say which I’d like. Love Enid. (Silvia sends a drawing of a ‘strong child’)
Feb 9th (typed from Rottingdean) Darling Silvia, I can’t believe twenty pounds is enough. …Anyway I’d sooner send twenty five. I’ll come up one day… Enid is struggling with managing the house on her own – it is cold and hard work and uncomfortable… I have enough money to run things better – but CAN’T. Don’t know how to. Can’t take time off to do so. Love Enid.
Dec 26th (handwritten letter from Rottingdean, with minimal punctuation!) Darling Silvia – I’ve run out of X- cards what does it matter this is a hand-wave & a kiss from me so long – we’ve known each other I can’t believe the grave is ever for me – can you? Dear love to you Enid
1965
Jan 19th (typed postcard from Rottingdean) in response to a missive from Silvia who had written ‘… (the) thought that one was not required to die until one’s work was finished’. Enid responds Oh what a thought to start the day with… but she runs out of time to write straight away.
Jan 21st (typed – continuation of above letter). Darling Silvia… How dear you are. And, yes, how long we have known each other. And how really one never changes. You are the same smiling witty (with your rueful smile against yourself as you speak) girl you were.
Following Hodgson’s death in 1962, Professor Pearson at the Beinecke Library set about collecting up some of his correspondence, with the help of Colin Fenton. Enid asks Silvia if there is anything she can contribute to RH but then wonders: What have I done with his letters? Did I send them to Colin Fenton? He asked for them. Do you ever see him? Ask if I did or I didn’t. I have quite a lot. And some of his drawings. Dogs and so forth. Do ask him if you see him.
May 17th (handwritten postcard from Rottingdean) Darling funny Silvia – with the running commentary in her head – The butcher is right – or perhaps right – & if prayers are to be said & there is anyone to answer – say one for me. My play has been massacred. Met is opening. Would stop it if I could. Thursday night is prayer night. Love Enid
1967
Dec 9th (handwritten from Rottingdean). Enid had received a calendar from a German publisher. When she saw the image for ‘Dezember’, she declared to herself ‘that’s how Silvia draws’. So, instead of a card, she sent the calendar to Silvia for Christmas. She is also trying to write her autobiography and asks: How to reconstitute one single feverish excitable anticipatory day of one’s life – we are snowed under, it’s beautiful, uncomfortable. I heard a bird. How do they live? There’s nothing even to perch on but white crumble. All my love dear – Enid.
1969
Jan 7th (handwritten from Rottingdean). Darling Silvia, Are you all right? Not ill -?
Enid had sent Silvia a book of drawings but, as a good old 79 year old, she addressed it to Silvia’s maiden name and was worried it never reached her… but was even more concerned as to how she was. Love (as always as at first) Enid
Jan 13th (typed post card from Rottingdean) Enid is due to have a hip operation but fell. I can’t darling. I mean look in on your flat. I’m no longer a looker-in. I’m on crutches, on a sofa. Not for ever, I hope… So relieved you are all right. Love Enid
1970
Feb 27th (handwritten letter from Enid to Aurelia Hodgson in Ohio) … Now, do you know that Silvia Baker, that was Hays (sic, should be Hays, née Baker) has lost her memory & is in hospital. She won’t, I think, get better – and won’t know, I think, who you are if you write to her. So no good writing. Her niece, Lady – ? (I’ll try & find her letter) wrote to me because she found a copy of my Autobiography I sent her. Silvia can’t read it. One of S’s friends wrote to me… saying Silvia is fairly happy & interested in all the people in the ward. I asked specially about Ralph’s letters & after enquiries she found Silvia had given (not sold) them to an American University – a collector. I wish I knew the name – Enid then changes the subject, complaining that her memory lets her down; it not only forgets – it invents! In fact, after Silvia died, it transpired that she did receive payment for her letters, from Professor Pearson.
May 6th (typed letter from Aurelia to Enid). Aurelia is very glad to be back in touch with Enid and is grateful for an invitation to come and stay. She is in contact with Colin Fenton and hopes to visit England in September 1971. However, she grieves to hear about Silvia Hay: I had not heard how acute her problem is.
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Later that year, Silvia dies in Bath on 12th October.
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Sources:
Enid Bagnold’s Autobiography (1969)
Enid Bagnold, A Biography by Anne Sebba (1986)
Dreaming of Babylon by John Harding (2008)
https://www.tate.org.uk/tate-etc/issue-45-spring-2019/emigre-artists-monica-bohm-duchen