Bloomsbury's Outsider (41 page)

Bunny adored all his children, and was delighted when Richard commented upon the four little girls, that ‘the remarkable thing about them compared with other children' was ‘their good looks'. Bunny loved Amaryllis's and Henrietta's exuberantly high spirits and relished everything about the twins, now returned to health, even enjoying the occasions when he and Angelica were ‘woken up & sit up side by side in bed, each with a small, wide-eyed creature, to be given breast & bottle & patted until the wind is expelled'.
²⁷
Mina Curtiss, writing to congratulate him on the latest additions to his family, commented, tongue in cheek: ‘I am absolutely enraptured with the picture of you as the father of four daughters – a patriarch. How wonderful! It is obviously what you were always meant to be.'
²⁸

‘Well my heart is in this place – in making butter & cheese – curing my own bacon up the chimney. It is rather a big undertaking really to keep it all going.'
¹

It was not until a year after the establishment of Rupert Hart-Davis Ltd that their first two books were published, on 1 February 1947.
²
Fourteen Stories
by Henry James was selected and introduced by Bunny. Rupert Brooke's hitherto unpublished essay ‘Democracy and the Arts' came with an introduction by Geoffrey Keynes. Despite the thin quality of rationed paper, both books received critical praise for the high standard of production. But the book which really launched Hart-Davis was Stephen Potter's
Theory and Practice of Gamesmanship
, which amused the partners so much that they gambled their paper ration, printed 25,000 copies and thus launched a new word and concept into the English language.

Bunny threw himself enthusiastically into the new venture. He enjoyed the weekly directors' meetings, reading manuscripts,
correcting proofs and even meeting booksellers. Most importantly, his new role conferred upon him the status and trappings he had enjoyed at the Nonesuch Press and the
New Statesman
: he was a bookman again, inhabiting the clubbable London world of publishers and writers. Moreover one of Bunny's novels was back in the limelight. On 30 May
The Times
announced a new ballet for Sadler's Wells, based on
The Sailor's Return
. Sally Gilmour, who had shone in
Lady into Fox
, played Tulip.

Mina Curtiss came to Hilton, bringing sardines and olive oil to counter the effects of rationing in Austerity Britain. But she was served champagne and ham, for conscious of the need to provide for a young family, Bunny had extended his husbandry beyond the vegetable patch. A pair of pigs, fattened and butchered, now hung in the chimney as hams.

With four young children, it was difficult for Bunny and Angelica to travel abroad together. For this reason, at the end of June, Angelica took a month's holiday with a friend in Sweden. This established a pattern whereby Bunny and Angelica would take off separately at different times, so that one parent remained at home. On this occasion, Amaryllis and Henrietta were delivered to Charleston, Bunny caring for the twins, now seven months old. Bunny missed Angelica desperately, lamenting, ‘I have really no conviction that you exist & cannot believe you will return to me'.
³

At both the Nonesuch Press and
New Statesman
Bunny had been instrumental in helping to establish writers' careers, not only by publishing their work or writing positive reviews, but also because he gave sound critical advice. Sylvia Townsend Warner told him ‘it was you, dear Bunny, who made a serious writer of
me. You were my godfather, you held me at the font'.
⁴
John Lehmann recalled that Bunny gave him excellent advice about writing prose. ‘I went away', he commented, ‘rather chastened by his advice, given in the most sympathetic and friendly manner, and soon decided to go on writing poetry.'
⁵
At Hart-Davis Bunny continued in this vein, championing, among others, Nicholas Mosley. In 1948 Bunny recommended they publish Mosley's first novel,
Spaces in the Dark
(1951), but not before asking the author whether he intended to publish under his own name, alluding to the unpopularity of Mosley's father, Sir Oswald. Mosley replied that he had experienced no problem with his surname in the army, to which Bunny retorted, ‘The literary world is not like your nice soldiers'.
⁶

This literary world was superficially genial, but publishers were running businesses, and the old boys' network could work both ways. On the one hand it might encourage the kind of good humoured cooperation which enabled Hart-Davis and Chatto & Windus to toss a coin rather than outbid each other for Mina Curtiss's latest book; on the other it did not discourage publishers from trying to poach one another's authors. Bunny was not averse to such casual pilfering, writing to Clive Bell to say that he hoped his next book would be brought to Hart-Davis, rather than the Hogarth Press.

Bunny was editing and annotating a single-volume edition of the novels of Thomas Love Peacock, to be published by
Hart-Davis. Here he took the opportunity to publish a corrective to Dr Richard Garnett's published views on Peacock, in which, as Bunny explained, his grandfather made ‘violent and quite unjustified attacks' on Peacock's character.
⁷
Like others of his generation, Dr Garnett could not contend with what he considered to be immoral flaws in Shelley's character. Dr Garnett was subject to the patronage of the poet's son and daughter-in-law, Sir Percy and Lady Jane Shelley, keepers of the Shelley flame who had a vested interest in keeping the flame pure. In upholding the myth that Shelley left his wife Harriet following an irreparable breach, only subsequently falling for Mary Godwin, Dr Garnett sanitised the reputation of Sir Percy (Mary's son) who remained the product of a pure liaison rather than of adultery. Dr Garnett thus implied that Shelley favoured monogamy, even though he wanted to continue with Harriet while starting with Mary. Peacock came under fire because he had remained loyal to Shelley, maintaining a ‘disinterested truthfulness' in relation to the poet's love-life.
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Although Peacock was one of Bunny's favourite authors, Shelley was a kindred spirit. As Bunny pointed out, with some sarcasm, all that Shelley had been guilty of was being ‘blind to the enormous moral importance of being off with the old love before he was on with the new.' And so, between the lines of his thoughtful and often humorous introductions to Peacock's novels, there lodges a discourse on Bunny's belief in free love, that it is possible to have ‘two emotions at once'. In particular, his assertion that Shelley ‘loved Mary passionately and Harriet
tenderly', mirrored his own feelings about Angelica and Ray during the years 1938–40.

The year 1948 saw Bunny making a conscious shift from London to Hilton. He continued to spend a day or two in London mid-week, but his pocket diary reveals a growing preoccupation with what would become an all-consuming passion: farming. Just as flying had swept Bunny off his feet in the late 1920s, now farming became an obsession. If butter and cheese were rationed, Bunny reasoned, the best way to circumvent shortage was by owning the means of production. And so on 19 March 1948 he recorded in his diary ‘News of cow'. When Oakdale Milky Way arrived the children kissed her, Bunny milked her, they churned their first pound of butter and, as Bunny optimistically informed Frances Partridge, ‘We are already thinking of rearing one of her calves'.
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Though Richard was to start at Rupert Hart-Davis the following January, William had no specific career plans and Bunny partly turned Hilton into a farm to provide occupation for him. In addition to William, the farm was managed by Harry Childs, so, in theory, Bunny could focus on literary work. But he couldn't resist getting involved. While the farm expanded – more Jersey cows purchased – piglets born – sugar beet sown – fodder crops produced – Angelica began to withdraw. An inveterate record-keeper, Bunny's pocket diaries invariably marked the occasions when he and Angelica had sex. The records are mere hieroglyphs celebrating an act central to Bunny's well-being. But as milk yields improved, congress declined, replaced with cursory notes of long-drawn-out discussions. In the summer of 1948, following a ‘long talk with AVG' Bunny miserably recorded:
‘Depressed & sleepless night. Felt completely isolated & on the brink of disaster.'
¹⁰

Bunny felt besieged from all sides. At home Angelica blew hot and cold: sometimes she was warm and cheerful, at others frosty and remote. At work, Hart-Davis was experiencing financial difficulties. The firm had been under-capitalised from the beginning, and Rupert realised that it would not become profitable without increased capital. Bunny tried to buoy him up, stating, ‘if we can survive we shall do brilliantly well and I am personally convinced that we shall survive'.
¹¹
This was not strictly true: Bunny was nervous about the business, and had written some months previously to Charles Prentice, inviting him to purchase shares, perhaps in the hope that as a shareholder his publishing experience could be tapped. No longer involved in publishing, Prentice declined, telling Bunny ‘publishing is a job you have willy-nilly to be in or out of'.
¹²

Bunny preferred to be away from the office, working at home, but as Rupert's biographer Philip Ziegler commented, the ‘somewhat ambiguous division of responsibilities between the usually-absentee Garnett and the omnipresent Rupert was always a potential cause of friction'.
¹³
Bunny sometimes felt marginalised, a situation to which he contributed by his determined absenteeism, but there was an unspoken symbiosis between the two men, for it suited their personalities to occupy their elected positions. Rupert ‘was a man of strong likes and
dislikes and the dislikes were more easily defined than the likes'.
¹⁴
He had given the company his name and it was appropriate for him to take on the role as the company's figurehead, a role which Bunny anyway did not want. But both partners believed in ‘standards', as Bunny told Rupert, ‘I could not agree more about keeping up a high standard. It is the only possible policy for us – because it is the only thing we can be sure of and can do better than other people.'
¹⁵
High standards did not guarantee successful books.

Beleaguered by business concerns, Bunny also felt compromised at home when in early September Angelica took off again for the best part of a month to Italy with Duncan and Vanessa. Bunny felt bereft, writing dejectedly to Angelica that he depended on her ‘too much: everything I think & do, is in relation to you & when you are gone, the bottom rather falls out of things'.
¹⁶
He went to stay with Frances and Ralph Partridge at Ham Spray, from where he set off to a cattle sale and purchased a young cow, driving all the way back to Hilton with her on the back seat of the car.

That was part of Angelica's problem. She had married a writer, and as an artist, she expected they would achieve the same sort of creative harmony which her parents enjoyed. One of the things Angelica appreciated about Bunny was his work as a novelist, and throughout her childhood this is what he had been. At Charleston she had been in the company of painters and writers, or people like Maynard with great intellectual capabilities and aesthetic sensitivity. But now her husband was driving
around with a cow in the back of his car. When she read his letters, detailing the second visit of the Man from the Ministry of Agriculture, she was reminded that Bunny had changed. He was writing a novel, but instead of telling her about that, he remarked that Topsy had given a record amount of milk. It was not surprising that Bunny felt Angelica seemed very far away and wondered whether, perhaps, she would go ‘further & further away', even after she came back.
¹⁷

With the exception of a week staying with Tim White on Alderney, Bunny had not been abroad since his trip to Paris with Angelica in 1938. He was consequently looking forward to a holiday in Paris with Mina in the New Year, but over Christmas illness descended on Hilton. First Bunny became ill with flu, then all four little girls went down with whooping cough, then William was admitted to hospital with pneumonia. Bunny soon followed, diagnosed with atypical pneumonia. Although Mina kept open her invitation, Angelica was so exhausted that Bunny decided to stay at home. He eventually caught up with Mina at the end of March 1949, at Juan les Pins on the Côte d'Azur, where she rented a villa overlooking the sea. This was Mina's solution to the problem of their different sized pockets. Mina was wealthy and expected to stay at the best hotels, but Bunny explained that if she wanted to stay at the ‘Ritz-Carltons' his money would run out in a few days.

The two friends spent their time working on their respective projects. Bunny was re-writing
Elephant Bill
, a book by Lieutenant-Colonel J.H. Williams about his wartime experiences with elephants in Burma. Although the story was exciting, Williams could not write, and Bunny spent considerable time ghosting the
book. ‘There is a certain charm', he reflected, ‘in being a “ghost” writer. One has so very little responsibility.'
¹⁸
Actually, Bunny took this work seriously, devoting the best part of five months to the task.

As Bunny and Angelica began to realise, the problem with separate holidays was the heightened demarcation between liberty and sacrifice, with one person enjoying freedom while the other remained trapped twixt cowshed and nursery. They resolved to spend part of August together in France, taking their older daughters and leaving the twins (now aged nearly three) at Hilton in the care of a nanny who had worked for friends. In the event Angelica departed on 3 August, taking only Amaryllis. Bunny remained at Hilton, for Henrietta could not travel, having contracted measles. He hoped this would cause only a temporary delay, but a few days later it was obvious that both Nerissa and Fanny had been infected. Nerissa developed pneumonia and was admitted to hospital, seriously ill. Although she rallied as a result of the new wonder-drug, penicillin, Bunny couldn't leave the twins, as all his ‘latent love & feeling of responsibility' had surfaced.
¹⁹
He eventually left for Paris, with William and Henrietta, three weeks after Angelica's departure. After a few days, Bunny set off on a tour with William, leaving Angelica in Paris with Amaryllis and Henrietta. There they remained while Bunny and William returned home. The twins were delighted to see Bunny, although, as he told Angelica, they said, ‘ “Mummy gone” – & apparently think it's final'.
²⁰