William Rothenstein (WR) was a man of many artistic & literary talents. He painted numerous portraits of the famous characters of his day – over 200 of them are in the National Portrait Gallery. He is best known for his work as a war artist in both WW1 & WW2. Between the wars, he was the influential Principal of the RCA (1920-35) and was knighted in 1931 for his services to art.
Rothenstein was ten years older than Silvia. He was born in Bradford, West Yorkshire into a German-Jewish family and was the fifth of six children. Albert, their sixth child, was also an artist and friend of Silvia’s (see sketches on Marriage page).
WR married Alice Knewstub in 1899. They had four children John, Betty, Rachel & Michael (Michael’s first name was William, so he was known as Billy in the family). Alice’s sister, Grace, married another successful portrait painter, Sir William Orpen. John and Athole were contemporaries and they both attended Worcester College, Oxford. John later became Director of the Tate Gallery (1938-64) and was knighted in 1952.
Rothenstein seems to have been generous with his support for struggling artists and this may, or may not, have included Silvia in her early 20s. She would have been 22/23 when he sketched her in 1916. Her short hair reflects a significant change in hairstyle for women that began in WW1. The sketch features in the frontispiece of Alone And Loitering. In the Introduction, written by Williams-Ellis, we learn that WR was ‘an admiring and faithful friend of the Author’.
WR’s second image of Silvia, with even shorter hair, was found in a review – tucked into a copy of Portraits in the London Zoo. The book was published in November 1925 by Puttnam’s (see Author) and, as part of their publicity, they used this ‘illustration of a reproduction of William Rothenstein’s crayon drawing of Miss Silvia Baker, the author of our publication…’
In a letter sent in June 1925 to Muriel Hodgson, Silvia writes that WR ‘has offered to help me select the drawings for my (zoo) book. I don’t feel in the least that I want to submit them to him. I shall have to elude his kindness in some wily way.’ Subsequently, she adds: ‘I’ve made great friends with William Rothenstein lately. I had always found him difficult before. His thought seems to run parallel to one’s own (but) his answers are never direct answers…’
The third image is an undated oil painting. It was most likely painted around 1924-26. Silvia mentions in Journey to Yesterday that, whilst WR was painting her portrait in his studio, she ‘met and was fascinated by Lawrence of Arabia wearing his flowing white silk Arab dress’!
The whereabouts of the originals for the first two images are unknown, whilst the third is in a private collection.
CORRESPONDENCE
A – ATHOLE to WR
In the Houghton Library, amongst hundreds of letters in the Rothenstein Collection, there are a few that were written by both Silvia and by Athole. Below are three of Athole’s letters. His writing is scrawly and not always easy to decipher. There is minimal punctuation. Apostrophes are left out and he uses dashes instead of full stops or commas; it is not always clear to work out which they should be! Words that are difficult to decipher have been put in [square] brackets. Occasionally an obvious ‘missing’ word been inserted in {curly} brackets.
Houghton Citation: MS Eng 1148 (684). Houghton Library, Harvard University.
1 Thursday (c.1931-32) – Marlefield, Roxburgh (Home of Athole’s parents)
Dear Sir William – I must write & tell you how much I enjoyed “Men & Memories” which I have just finished reading – You can have no idea what an enchanted forest it is for someone of my age – I [reveled] in all of it – the stories of Whistler – the description of the Oxford magnates – the letters of Max Beerbohm & John –
The Paris part with so much of Conder in it specially delighted me – I had conceived of characters like Verlaine & Eugenia Krantz & even of Lautrec & Bruant & the like – but I had never really before believed in the existence of Juliette or Sarah Brown or this little English model you took to lunch with Wilde – When I think of Montmartre now – full of Russian [“Britishment”] – with champagne “obligatoire” at 350 frs a bottle – and even of places like Grez – I cannot help realising how many place{s} all of you must have ruined by becoming famous in later life!
I remember you saying one day how interesting you were finding it trying to evoke something from fragments of memories & letters – for me at any rate it is all intensely alive –
My mother progresses steadily but it is beginning to seem very very slow & my father has not added to the family peace of mind by having a heart attack this other morning – However I have no doubt that all will come well in the end –
I do hope Lady Rothenstein has quite recovered from her illness – Please give her & all the family my best love – Also please do not think of answering this –
Yours very sincerely
Athole
Notes:
–Men &Memories, Vol 1 published in 1931, the same year in which WR was knighted
-Conder: Charles Conder (1868-1909) English born artist, lived in Australia & France.
-Eugénia Krantz: (d.1897) Verlaine’s last mistress, former music hall performer
-Verlaine: (1844-1896) poet, Died chez Krantz in rue Descartes
-Lautrec: Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901) French artist & printmaker
-Bruant: Aristide Bruant (1851-1925), French cabaret singer & entertainer; features on Lautrec posters
-Grez: Grez sur Loing, an art colony at the turn of the 20th C, south of Paris
2 Undated (c.June/July 1935) – RCA, WR’s retirement
Dear Prof Rothenstein – I came round here on my way to the station to say good-bye to you – I decided this morning that I would go north by the midday train – & unfortunately did not see you before you left the house –
I cannot thank you enough for having been so kind to me – & I should like to tell you how very much I appreciated the compliment you paid me in the question of the registrarship – It is very rare that one receives such a signal & tangible compliment from someone from whom above all others one would value even the lightest expression of approval – I am only expressing what I mean very foolishly & clumsily – but it cannot be difficult for you to understand what I feel.
Once again thank you very much for a very great deal of kindness
Yrs v. sincerely Athole
3 Sept 1st (1935) Edge Street
Dear Sir William –
Here we are back again after a very varied trip finishing in Venice! We never even in Italy struck really fine weather – but we enjoyed ourselves enormously – I hope that you are all the better for your [cure] at Nauheim – Gloucestershire must have been lovely during all the hot weather we have been reading about – enviously in the South – I can’t help noticing that today is the official day of your official parting – One more thank you “Goodbye” – I know that the college will never be quite the same place – or in my case at all the same place without you – but I can console myself with the thought that our friendship did not begin there & will not I feel certain end there –
Thank you & bless you for all you have done for me a thousand times –
Yrs as ever, Athole
In 1938, following Athole’s unexpected death, Rothenstein published a heart-felt ‘in memoriam’ (see Athole’s page, under Untimely Death).
B – SILVIA to WR
There may well be more letters than those which follow, between Silvia & WR; if so, they have been lost, thrown away or are sitting in the back of a cupboard somewhere. The correspondence to which we do have access began in approx. 1924-25. This was around the time that WR suffered from serious heart problems. He had to take time off work but it didn’t deter his painting which continued up to the end of his life. Silvia’s six letters below, mostly transcribed in full, reveal how a special friendship between them developed over time. The first two letters are undated; they were probably written in 1924 or 1925 as they correlate with notes sent to Silvia by WR.
Houghton Citation: MS Eng 1148 (53). Houghton Library, Harvard University
1, Tuesday evening – Albert Place
Dear Mr Rothenstein,
Of course, I should love to come and see you. Could I come at 6 o’clock on Thursday. I am longing to see you. I came home two weeks ago. I wrote in my note-book write “W.R.” – but I caught a repulsively, violent cold and had to stay at home. I found a lovely letter from you when I came home. I hope that Rachel is better….
How hateful for you to have to be in bed. I’m sure you are the worst patient in the world. I do hope you will be well soon. Till tomorrow. Yours Ever, Silvia
2, Sunday – Albert Place
Dear Mr Rothenstein,
I must tell you how much I love the drawing you gave me. It is so lovely. It is impossible to thank you enough. I do hope you are still feeling serene – and that you aren’t waving your arms about so much… (and that) I didn’t tire you yesterday. I prattled very noisily – but your house makes me feel gay & excited. It will be lovely when you are well again. Yours Ever, Silvia
3, August 18th – Cap d’Antibes – (Similar details, including some about the Margaret Morris Dancing School, feature in a long letter to Muriel Hodgson in 1925)
Dear Mr Rothenstein,
Such a pleasure to receive your letter but so terribly sorry that you have been ill. Do hope you will be docile and behave as Harley Street tells you.
I have never been so blissful as I am here. I came out alone, but a funny psychologist friend of mine from Cambridge has now appeared on the scene. There is a bathing place that is lovelier than St John’s conception of Paradise…. You sit half the morning on a raft talking to charming people, and when they bore you, you surreptitiously dive into the sea – why can’t drawing-rooms be surrounded by moats! Yours always, S
4, 14th March 1926 – Albert Place
My Dearest WR,
It was lovely to hear from you but I wish you gave better news of yourself. I am longing to see you. You will let me know the minute you are back. I have been drawing a very goblin{-like} animal called the Slow Loris. Loris is a Dutch word meaning Clown. It has eyes like lamps & pale naked fat hands like a corpse. It moves like a slow-motion film. They had some other animals with queer names in the Sanatorium that I was wanting to draw – a Moholi galago (bushbaby) & a Douroucoup (unknown), but they died before I could begin.
Moving in unwonted (unfamiliar) circles tomorrow – a ball at Lady Astor’s. New dress – but all is dust & ashes. The object of my affection is weary of me… There is a new one. I embrace him, & think of the other, & weep. It is so hard to explain politely why one weeps. I hope Rachel is getting very strong & well. Come back soon. Things are quite dreary enough, without the added injury of you being away. With love to you both. I do hope you are better. Yours S
5, January 7th (1932) – studio 2, 54 Sussex Place, SW7; Tel: KEN 0034
Dearest Sir William,
Your letter gave me intense pleasure. To be assured of your continued affection is a real happiness to me. Your greeting was all the sweeter as it came sandwiched between two accounts rendered.
Very sorry to hear that you & Rachel have both been seriously ill. I hope you aren’t feeling tired and depressed, as one often does in convalescence. It is lovely that John (probably Rothenstein) liked my show. They’ve let about 40 drawings go to the buyers, which is rather rough on the exhibition*. I shall keep your letter as a talisman. With much love, & very best wishes for your recovery. Yours ever Silvia Baker
*Warren Gallery, the private view was on 1st December, 1931
6, Thursday – Edge Street (responding to WR’s request for some dates of former RCA students, Silvia ends with the following poignant paragraph, thus dating it to January 1938)
Dearest Sir William
…. My darling Athole is seriously ill with quinsy & complications following on it. He’s only been ill since Sunday. A specialist is coming here in an hour’s time. I am writing this, because a nurse is looking after him, so I leave him dozing while she is there. I’m very anxious. With love always, Silvia
C – WILLIAM to Silvia
Athole’s untimely death was on 24th January 1938 (see Athole page).
Like so many friends, Rothenstein was devastated and wrote to Silvia as follows:
Darling Silvia – What can I say to you – no words. I can only send you my love, wh. you & Athole have always had, undiminished. There are no two people I care for as I do for you both; and now you must take it for yourself and for Athole. You know that, so long as I live, you have a place close to my heart, and I am ever yr loving friend – William
The above letter, in the Beinecke Library, is one of several sent by WR to Silvia. In conjunction with Silvia’s correspondence above, the letters indicate a strong friendship between them. Most are transcribed in full, beginning with those that have no actual date (but possibly written around the time WR was painting Silvia’s portrait).
His letters and notes are written in elegant, italicised writing but some words are difficult to decipher. Punctuation has been left as used in the original and square or curly brackets used, as for Athole’s letters. Silvia’s name is sometimes spelt with a ‘y’, mostly in letters written in WR’s later years.
Presenting the correspondence in date order is the most convenient system to adopt, even though half the letters display no year – indeed, the first four items only state a weekday.
Beinecke Citation: Silvia Baker Papers. General Collection.
Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.
Nos. 1-4: Undated
1, Thursday – RCA, SW7
My dearest Silvia – I am looking forward to seeing your radiant self on Saturday morning. You have not forgotten me, have you? I half hoped you might have had a moment to look in on me. I’m longing to make a drawing worthy of you. Ever Yours – W.R.
2, Friday – RCA, SW7
My dearest Silvia, tomorrow, after an interrupted week, I have a free morning. If Helen of Troy is neither combing her golden hair or tending her lions or sheep, will she sit on my [dais] & ivory throne? In the afternoon I have to hang drawings, for a sight of which I enclose an invitation. You have been silver silent; & of your lovely drawings I have seen nothing. With what have your brain & hands been busy? Ever Yours – W.R.
3, Friday – RCA, SW7
My dearest Silvia – I hoped to have time to see you today; but from morning until evening I have been beset. Tomorrow morning I fly to Oakridge, worn out. The heat, overwork & other emotions have for the moment, made me useless. I hope a day or two of idling, & then painting in the open, will refresh me. And you? When do you get away from the smell of motor oil & the sight of anteaters & antelopes? I am sure you too, young & lusty though you are, need clear sun & air. I send you my warm & affectionate devotion, dearest Silvia. I think of you ever with love & admiration, & gratitude for your generous gift of golden beauty. Ever yours – William R
4, Friday – RCA, SW7 (possibly Hampshire means Petersfield =1925)
My dearest Silvia – will you come on Tuesday instead of Monday? It would be dear of you. I have to go into Hampshire tomorrow afternoon to make some studies for a portrait background & can’t get back until Monday afternoon. I am happily free nearly all next week.
I looked for you yesterday but in vain. The play was worth seeing but it was v hot. Today, is the winding up of the [s…] & it is a full one. So I leave you in anticipation of seeing you early next week. Ever yours – W.R.
Nos. 5-11: Dated but no year, listed in order of months
5, March 16 – RCA, SW7
My dear Sylvia
I hope, by this time, your migraine has left you & that I may see you next week, in all your golden radiance. My affectionate homage. Ever yrs W.R.
6, May 7th – RCA, SW7
My dear Lady Helen of Troy, it was angelic of you to send the tickets. The children spent a happy day at the Zoo yesterday, with sandwiches & lead pencils, from morning until evening. They are most grateful & send their affectionate thanks. I look forward to Thursday. Yrs ever – W.R.
7, Friday, Whitsun – RCA, SW7
My dearest Sylvia – I waited – and left a note. A meeting called for today was advanced & I was sent for. So all was well – except that an hours drawing with you as a sitter means much to me. Can you be generous & spare me one? I shall be working through Whitsun. I have a beautiful nude tomorrow morning; the rest of the time I shall be working on still life. A line here will always find me ready – and how much of a privilege it is for me to draw you, you cannot know. Ever yours – W.R.
8, June 12 – No address
Dearest Sylvia – how impenitently industrious you are! Does the animal world – a prison at its best – claim all your attention? You who make innumerable studies of alligators or apes (whom any child can in some measure scribble) allow me but two [sittings] only, O Lady Helen of Troy, whose contours no man, however supreme an artist, can snare.
I grant you are no child with your drawings of beasts – they are delightful. But the time is long since you sat in the sitter’s seat – who was it who first had the wit to call it a throne? When will you again occupy if, for my rich delight – poor performance, Sylvia, my dear. It is still a million hours… (next page missing)
9, July 3 – 13 Airlie Gardens, W8
My dearest Silvia – indeed you are [forgiven]. How could it be otherwise? I am glad to know that you do sometimes allow yourself some relaxation from leopards & mongeese. Your radiance on Monday touched my heart. It was good to see your golden splendour as you prepared, like Radha, to meet your lover, with shining brow & raiment. The days when you wove tapestries of drooping & unattended ladies are forgotten. More daemonic beings now occupy your pencil & their claws & teeth are plain as the vigour of their haunches. I go to the country this weekend. If next week you can spare me an hour for my drawing I shall be grateful. There is no generosity to equal the gift, for an hour, of a woman’s beauty. Hence, dearest Silvia, I am ever your grateful & devoted – W.R.
10, Oct 5 – 13 Airlie Gardens, W8
My dearest Silvia – I am a prisoner – in bed. I have not reason to suppose you will be shocked at seeing me with a growing beard, but […] your conscientious zoological habits – these & not my appearance, would prevent your coming to cheer me. But will you come some Saturday or Sunday? The doctors say that overwork has affected my heart – but you, my dear, know better. Ever yours – William R
11, Dec 13 – RCA, SW7
My dear Lady Helen of Troy, an exceptional sitting for a drawing needed at once is bringing G.K. Chesterton up to town tomorrow at 11.15. Will you come very punctually at ten, so that we may get a good hour in? This will be gracious & helpful on your part. Ever yrs W.R.
Nos. 12-24: Dates in full (or an informed guess is made)
12, Aug 13, – Far Oakridge, after tomorrow at Kays Crib, Sheet, Petersfield (=1925)
My dearest Silvia – when I last saw you I felt rather exhausted. I went to (rest?) for a day or two &, feeling little better, was told, while on a visit to Rachel, that I have been seriously over working. I have been ordered a complete rest for a few weeks. This order I took as a provisional one only; but I was stupid enough to catch this odd summer influenza, of which I have read, so all thoughts of work are for the moment, useless. When I return to town I am told to take things a little more easily; but this refers less to my painting, than to my other activity. So, if you still will come sometimes to sit, you must (will?) be in part, veiled, as clouds save us from the full heat of the sun & from its dazzling light. I hope you too will get a rest & look on things … more comforting than alligators, apes & peacocks. It will be pleasant to see you again, dearest Silvia, next month when I hope to return refreshed & a sign of the fallibility of Harley St opinion. Ever yours – W.R.
13, Sept 7 – Kays Crib, Sheet, Petersfield (=1925)
My dearest Silvia – if I were a man of wealth, I should not have a secretary; I should ask you to travel sometimes, to stay in London generally, write letters to me. You are a golden letter writer. What you wrote cheered me for days, such living & bright images did your pen evoke. For resting is only half living. I return to town next week & hope you will come to see me soon. I doubt whether I shall be able to lead a very active life, but I am looking forward to working again even though my working hours are (surely?) to be confounded. I am ever, dearest Silvia, your devoted & gratefully affectionate William R
14, March 3rd, 1926 – Hôtel Bristol, Rapallo
My Dearest Silvia – the sun makes me think of you; your gold would become still warmer & more radiant under this pure & splendid sky. I think of you, as you were in the South of France last summer, a sea nymph among [… & visitors]. Here there are none of these; the ‘visitors’ would drive [even?] their ghosts away. But up some of the quiet valleys, antique Italy still lives, with its rocks & cypresses & olive trees & farms. And some of the little coast towns are enchanting. I recommend Porto Fino to your golden attention – a tiny bay of deepest blue & green, with a city composed of 3 sides of a square – no more and in the square, as if a stage, the whole operatic life of the town goes on, idle & busy at the same time. Fishermen, lace makers, douaniers, soldiers, beggars, musicians, children, in fact all the inhabitants sit, walk, lounge, & chatter before you as you sip local wine, magenta coloured at the trattoria. But you probably know this country made known to many through Max Beerbohm living here. I am [also being] the ultra violet rays of his talk, & so is Rachel.
Rachel of course makes many friends at the hotel. The sight of a Princess, guarding a Dragon was, even in the days of chivalry less usual than the appearance of a Dragon attending a fair lady against her will. I need not say that the hotel is full of maiden aunts & their elder married sisters; & with the weeks the hotel doesn’t grow any younger. Still we have had two exquisite youths here – Peter Quenell & Adrian Stokes, both contemporaries of John at Oxford & friends of the Sitwells – both fair, both young authors. You who love what is witty & chased (I didn’t say chaste, but I am sure you love that too) should beg or steal two books by a to me – hitherto – unknown American authoress, Elinor Wiley by name. Jennifer Lorne, & the Venetian glass nephew are the titles of the two books. Perhaps your friend Enid* may know of them. They will delight you, and her too, I fancy. We return soon – but you will not want to see so poor a creature as I am now. My love to you. I hope life smiles on you; but then you will turn away from life’s smile or frown, to follow the graces of apes & gazelles. Ever yours, dearest Silvia, William R.
*Enid Bagnold
15, No date but, following previous letter, must be after March 1926
My dearest Silvia – your good letter flew back to me from Rapallo. We returned last week. I shall rejoice to see you. You will find me at home most afternoons & every evening. The family have gone off to Oakridge – only Alice is staying at home to keep me company. Your tidings interest me – I hope it is out of the Ming frying pan into the Sung pot. But you know what kind of happy ending I always want to your breathless adventures. I am not speaking merely of your escapes from gorillas & tigers. I work at the College in the mornings: the students gave me a most pleasant welcome back. A bientôt, dearest Silvia. Ever yours W.R.
16, 02.01.32 – 13 Airlie Gardens, W8
My dearest Silvia – I must send you my affectionate voeux for the N.Year. No one deserves warmth & some of the good things of life more than you, for no one is more generous & more giving. Yr outer radiance is always symbolic to me of yr inner spirit and what woman can match your wit? John tells me that you have an unusual{ly} good show at the Trotters – I shall hope to get there to see it. Meanwhile my love – you know you have always had it. Ever Yrs Willliam R.
17, 21.02.32 -13 Airlie Gardens, W8
My dearest Silvia – an invitation from you is a command. The more must you forgive me if I ask for a fresh one. I have Alfred Spender sitting for me on Tuesday afternoon & have to give him & his wife tea afterwards. Beckon with yr white hand & I come – another day this week. With my love, ever affectionately – William R.
If, of course, I can get away at once after the sitting, I will come on to you on Tuesday
18, 23.04.32 – 13 Airlie Gardens, W8 (year ascertained from Lady Cowdray’s funeral)
My dearest Silvia – last Tuesday I had to go to Lady Cowdray’s funeral service; I did not like to seem unresponsive and now I find that I am due at the R.A. to look for a possible Chantrey purchase, as I represent the Tate Trustees on the Chantrey Ctee. But I will tell Staite Murray to expect you, & to show you what is being done – you will find him v. knowledgeable. It was a [lovely] day I spent with you – first at the zoo & then at yr warm nest. Who is there like unto Silvia? Who so (large) & generous, so understanding & so radiant? I send you my love, my dear, de coeur, though the coeur is worth little, & palpitates when it shouldn’t. I am ever yr devoted – William R.
-Lady Cowdrey (née Cass 1860-1932) was born in Bradford, West Yorkshire, as was W.R. Besides being the ‘fairy Godmother of nursing’ and a philanthropist, she was an art collector and patron of the arts.
-Chantrey Bequest (1877). This was used to help fund acquisitions for the Tate (founded, 1897)
– Staite Murray was an influential potter and appointed Head of Ceramics at the RCA in 1926
19, 21.12.37 – High Point, Highgate Village, N6 (following the death of Mappy, Silvia’s mother)
Dearest Sylvia, I have been hoping each day to get to see you. First lumbago & a cold, then Alice’s being laid up, have kept me tied. But you know how dear you are to me, & how much yr welfare means. I know, too, that nothing can take the place of love for a mother, or a mother’s love for a child. I so much wished to come down to you: now we are just setting out to Oakridge & don’t expect to be back for a while. I will come to Edge St early next year. Meanwhile, I send you all my love & affection. Yr friendship has always been one of the precious things of my life. Ever yr devoted – William
Alice is better but rather shattered & depressed after 2 weeks in bed. She had a touch of bronchial pneumonia & will have to go slow for a while. My love to Athole: I was glad to see him last week.
20, 27.11.38 – Far Oakridge, Glos
Dearest Sylvia – at last you are back, after long wandering, among yr friends again. I am longing to see you & to hear you – I have missed yr soft voice & keen wit & the lovely aura you shed. Alas that we are not in London to greet you. At least John & Eliz are there – and you were at one time to join them. Alice will be coming to town in a few days & I too perhaps – only we have to be at Oakridge these days, as John is going to give a talk this next Sunday. Let us know something of your plans. I am afraid the country in the winter wd not attract you – also you will have many friends to welcome you back & to enjoy yr radiant company. I can only send you my love, de coeur. Ever yr affectionate & devoted – William
21, 11.12.38 – Far Oakridge, Glos
My Dearest Sylvia (changed to Silvia) – You write “think of me sometimes”; but how cd I do otherwise? You know I have always cared deeply for you. You brought a new beauty into my life, & your large & gracious nature has never ceased to delight me. Then dear Athole came into my life too, & when I discovered that you & he were to mate, my love for you was to be still further be-rainbowed by the addition of my affection for him. I can imagine yr feelings abt the London you knew when his friends were added to yrs, his wit to yr wit & you had his enchanting companionship. But on what uneasy balance does our happiness & well being depend. Nature gives us a push & we cling to the rope, hang on or fall.
What you still have – will always have, dearest, is your own gift of fine intelligence, wh. you lend to us all, for our advantage, yr entrancing humour & the generosity of yr nature.
We are coming up on Sunday for 2 days – will you still be in town. I shd love to see you. Ever yrs, William
22, – February 1939 – High Point, Highgate Village, N6
Dearest Sylvia – I was sorry indeed not to have seen you in London – we had to hurry back to see a few frozen pipes & our guests, Betty & [Ensor?]. But it was as well you didn’t plan to come for Xmas – our roads were impassable & the cold was intense. Now I hear you are to leave us again to winter in Jamaica – in Aug John’s footsteps! Everyone who goes there speaks warmly of scene & people. You are sure to make friends & to find much to interest you & to occupy you. I send you my voeux for a fruitful time, & for a more carefree year – and come back soon, & don’t hurry off when you are back.
Ever dearest Sylvia yr affec. & devoted William.
23, 05.02.42 – Far Oakridge
Dearest Silvia – When yr welcome letter came I was not able to write many letters. I had been drawing airmen all over the country for close on 2 years, when I foolishly overtaxed my strength, when my old heart trouble laid me low. I came home to stay for a couple of days with Rachel & have been with her for more than 3 months, with strength returning v. slowly. Alice staying in a hotel nearby. That is what happens when you turn yr back on us all!
But what adventures you must have had, & how much of the world you have seen! Hollywood & Bali & now the hills & valleys & rivers & towns of famed Kashmir. When I was in India everyone told me to go to that delectable country, paradise of Anglo-India. I hope it is a paradise for you & that you fold yr wings in peace each night.
What draught of life you must bring with you wherever you find yourself, what – to the Anglo-Indian ladies – disconcerting wit. Do you live on one of those famed house-boats, or in friendly bungalows? Do you visit delicate Kashmiri ladies, sitting cross legged in shimmering saris, the arms & ankles encircled with golden bangles? But perhaps by the time this reaches you, you will have hitched yr silken feet elsewhere. Not in China or Japan, but perhaps in Tibet, or even Abyssinia? The drone of planes has not reached the one & has left the other.
Here we live from day to day – our imaginations do not extend much beyond. The RCA, as you no doubt have heard, is at Ambleside, the Slade has migrated to Oxford, where Albert has found Schwabe is running it. The national GY is given up to war-artists & to Ingra Hess’s concerts; the Tate has been twice bombed & John’s headquarters are at Sudeley Castle. Most men & women wear uniform of some kind, hence domestic help is hard to come by & A & I are going to live as PGs on Boars Hill for a while. I don’t know whether yr old house is still standing – the houses next to ours in Airlie Gardens are no more & Rowley, the framers, have been blitzed. But London goes cheerfully each day to work. Grace English is an energetic air warden; I hope she & other of yr friends have time to write to you. This, if it reaches you, will carry you my love; ever yr devoted & affectionate – William R.
24, 24.12.44 – Far Oakridge
My beloved Silvia, how unchanged is their charm yr letters (sic), and John tells us of a book in the press wh. is even to outcharm them! It is good to know you {are} back at long last, with the chance even of seeing you, though alas this cd not be a mutual pleasure, bearded as I am, like a bard, & dull of brain. This will carry my never failing affection & good wishes. Ever yr devoted – at least unchanged of heart – William R.
Sadly, six weeks after writing this last letter to Silvia, William dies on 14th February 1945, aged 73. Max Beerbohm, who was a lifelong friend, and with whom WR corresponded extensively, gave the eulogy* at WR’s memorial service at St Martin in the Fields on 6th March 1945.
*Max & Will – MB & WR their friendship and letters 1893-1945;
Edited by Mary M Lago & Karl Beckson (1975) John Murray, London