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A Constant Heart: The War Diaries of Maud Russell 1938 - 1945
The publication of Maud Russell’s diaries is of considerable importance. Few diaries covering the Second World War remain unpublished, even less weave together so many strands; politics, art, high society, wartime life on a country estate, the unfolding drama of the war itself – the last brought into even sharper focus by Maud’s struggle to help her Jewish relatives flee Nazi Germany.
Together with her husband Gilbert, Maud’s principal home was Mottisfont Abbey in Hampshire, described by John Julius Norwich in his foreword as ‘the most desirable house in England’, and which she later gave to the National Trust. The daughter of German immigrants, Maud was an outsider who owed her place in society to her wealth and marriage. To many she was an enigma, but the diaries reveal a woman of strong emotion with an immense appetite for life.
The opening entries alone hint at the riches that lie ahead. There is a meeting in Paris with Matisse (who painted her), an anxious visit to Cologne, the commissioning of Rex Whistler to decorate the ‘big room’ at Mottisfont, and a deepening intimacy with Ian Fleming, almost certainly her lover – as in due course was the Russian mosaic artist Boris Anrep, whom she shared with his common-law wife.
Yet despite Maud’s determination to forge a new life after Gilbert’s death in 1942, she was steadfast in her commitments, blessed with an unswerving sense of right and wrong, and loyal to her friends. And the list of those friends is to call the roll on British political and artistic life in the mid-twentieth century, many of whom are brought vividly to life in diaries which, until now, have remained private and unpublished.
Together with her husband Gilbert, Maud’s principal home was Mottisfont Abbey in Hampshire, described by John Julius Norwich in his foreword as ‘the most desirable house in England’, and which she later gave to the National Trust. The daughter of German immigrants, Maud was an outsider who owed her place in society to her wealth and marriage. To many she was an enigma, but the diaries reveal a woman of strong emotion with an immense appetite for life.
The opening entries alone hint at the riches that lie ahead. There is a meeting in Paris with Matisse (who painted her), an anxious visit to Cologne, the commissioning of Rex Whistler to decorate the ‘big room’ at Mottisfont, and a deepening intimacy with Ian Fleming, almost certainly her lover – as in due course was the Russian mosaic artist Boris Anrep, whom she shared with his common-law wife.
Yet despite Maud’s determination to forge a new life after Gilbert’s death in 1942, she was steadfast in her commitments, blessed with an unswerving sense of right and wrong, and loyal to her friends. And the list of those friends is to call the roll on British political and artistic life in the mid-twentieth century, many of whom are brought vividly to life in diaries which, until now, have remained private and unpublished.
- GenresWorld War II
320 pages, Paperback
Published September 10, 2017
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
December 6, 2017
the initials get confusing forever double checking who is being talked about a very busy woman!
May 15, 2018
There's clearly a reason why only the wartime entries have been published of Maud Russell's diaries. Diaries in themselves don't often make great reading unless you're famous, hilariously witty, or live in a time of great national importance, as in this case. As an intelligent woman with German relatives and who was rightly worried about the prospects of war long before World War 2 started, Maud pays close attention to what is happening in Europe from the beginning and we get the benefit of her observation. If it wasn't for this, the entries might drag a bit, as our own diaries would to someone who didn't know us!
Maud Russell was an observant and thoughtful woman moving in celebrated circles in the Thirties and Forties. She lived at Mottisfont, the country house now cared for by the National Trust, and this in itself may be enough reason to read her diaries for anyone who loves the house. She also associated with famous figures of her era, including Winston Churchill's wife Clemmie, Evelyn Waugh and Ian Fleming, who was sixteen years younger than her and probably her lover after her beloved husband Gilbert died.
I must admit to having mostly read it for the Fleming connection. I was irked by Maud's depiction of him as a lonely and sometimes lost young man who needed someone like her but had to be convinced that she was too old. I also could have done without the continual accounts of how Fleming and her other masculine hangers-on constantly take her to lunch and fuss over her health, strength and happiness. (Rather spitefully, it makes one wonder how much her wealth had to do with this - she was certainly generous with her money towards many of her friends.)
There is a definite thread of 'poor little me' running through things. Maud is constantly 'exhausted' and has to have both lunch and dinner in bed. She stays at Claridges when in London and does the same there. The mere thought of a wartime job at the Admiralty brings on a fit of sleeplessness and further exhaustion. Yet, to be fair, she does take the job at the Admiralty, unpaid, and is apparently a success in it. Afterwards, she describes it as the only time she ever did anything that counted.
This can't be the case. As the owner of a country estate (not her own family one - she married into it and managed it alone after her husband died), she is a model of social responsibility, supporting poor families on the estate, consulting the farmers about whether they need extra help for harvesting during the war and the school about whether there are enough desks for all the evacuated children from the cities. She's clearly practical, decisive and efficient, qualities she never sees in herself. Perhaps the lesson to be taken from this and all diaries is that they are far from the best vehicle by which any of us can be understood - by ourselves, let alone by others.
Maud Russell was an observant and thoughtful woman moving in celebrated circles in the Thirties and Forties. She lived at Mottisfont, the country house now cared for by the National Trust, and this in itself may be enough reason to read her diaries for anyone who loves the house. She also associated with famous figures of her era, including Winston Churchill's wife Clemmie, Evelyn Waugh and Ian Fleming, who was sixteen years younger than her and probably her lover after her beloved husband Gilbert died.
I must admit to having mostly read it for the Fleming connection. I was irked by Maud's depiction of him as a lonely and sometimes lost young man who needed someone like her but had to be convinced that she was too old. I also could have done without the continual accounts of how Fleming and her other masculine hangers-on constantly take her to lunch and fuss over her health, strength and happiness. (Rather spitefully, it makes one wonder how much her wealth had to do with this - she was certainly generous with her money towards many of her friends.)
There is a definite thread of 'poor little me' running through things. Maud is constantly 'exhausted' and has to have both lunch and dinner in bed. She stays at Claridges when in London and does the same there. The mere thought of a wartime job at the Admiralty brings on a fit of sleeplessness and further exhaustion. Yet, to be fair, she does take the job at the Admiralty, unpaid, and is apparently a success in it. Afterwards, she describes it as the only time she ever did anything that counted.
This can't be the case. As the owner of a country estate (not her own family one - she married into it and managed it alone after her husband died), she is a model of social responsibility, supporting poor families on the estate, consulting the farmers about whether they need extra help for harvesting during the war and the school about whether there are enough desks for all the evacuated children from the cities. She's clearly practical, decisive and efficient, qualities she never sees in herself. Perhaps the lesson to be taken from this and all diaries is that they are far from the best vehicle by which any of us can be understood - by ourselves, let alone by others.
December 5, 2018
This is proving to be invaluable as a sounding board for contemporary events and opinions of the time. Whether or not you like or approve of Maud Russell's lifestyle (and some aspects have surprised me a little) from a modern perspective it provides a genuine feel for the era as well as interesting facts that many accounts by the historians of the era overlook.
September 13, 2020
Brilliantly edited diary which gives a great snapshot of life at the time of the war in the beautiful Mottisfont
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews