[Sir Iain Moncreiffe of that Ilk, Chief of Clan Moncreiffe, herald and genealogist.] Collection of 49 items of correspondence, to Philip Dosse of Hansom Books, mostly concerning his review work for Books and Bookmen; with one autograph article.

Sir Iain Moncreiffe of that Ilk was a true Scottish eccentric. The Oxford DNB refers to his reputation as ‘as an (eminently quotable) super-snob’, a characterization which is strongly supported by this energetic, entertaining and playful correspondence, which, as the extracts quoted below show, covers a great deal more than the practicalities of his review work. (See the ODNB’s evaluation of his intellectual merits: ‘In conversation, as well as in his published work, he relied on a marvellously retentive memory that was unimpaired even by a considerable intake of alcohol. Conviviality that could prostrate others left him in full command of detail and only increased his extraordinary range of allusiveness.’) This correspondence is from the archives of Philip Dosse (given as Dossé by Moncrieff and others), proprietor of Hansom Books, publisher of a stable of seven arts magazines including Books and Bookmen and Plays and Players. See ‘Death of a Bookman’ by the novelist Sally Emerson (the editor of ‘Books and Bookmen’ at the time of Dosse’s suicide), in Standpoint magazine, October 2018. The collection comprises a total of 50 items: 19 ALsS (two with postscripts on card); 7 TLsS; 2 ANsS; 21 ACsS (including one written on the back of two of his calling cards and one with an additional two parts on cards); and the autograph text of a review published in 1973. The letters contain a total of 53pp, of which 42pp (32pp in 12mo; 10pp in 8vo) are in his tight controlled autograph (ODNB: ‘His neat little handwriting was described by a friend as 'like the footprints [sic] of a wren'.’), and 10 (5pp in 12mo; 5pp in 8vo) typed. Moncreiffe plays jokes with dating and versions of his signature, which range from ‘I. M.’, ‘Iain M.’ and the full ‘Iain Moncreiffe of that Ilk’ to ‘the 24th. Ilk.’ and ‘Iain the Ilk.’ In addition, the collection includes one ALS, one ACS and one TCS from Moncreiffe’s second wife Hermione Moncreiffe (one of his ALsS includes an ANS from her). The review and its accompanying letter (on letterheads of the Ritz Hotel, London) are on thin paper that is somewhat creased; otherwise the collection is in good condition, with light signs of age. The earliest item, an ALS dated 28 November 1971, begins: ‘Dear Mr Dossé / What twentieth century patronage you can dispense. And what a coincidence that a chance remark about an historically murderious hunting-knife whose earlier slayings have so long lain undiscovered, should have disclosed the kind discernment with which you wield those air tickets. / If you really will send Hermione & me to Le Bourget & back and to Tokyo & back, the way of it would be this’. Following the description he writes; ‘At the age of fifteen, I knew more Japanese history than British history - and have always wanted to write another book on Sacred Royalty that must necessarily include a fuller study of the Japanese emperors, and also a comparison between the Scottish & Japanese clan systems.’ The longest letter (four closely-written 8vo pages) is dated 11 December 1974, and begins: ‘Dear Mr. Dossé / I’m working on the books you sent me on alcohol, which is particularly appropriate as I got inebriated on my last visit to London & didn’t do half the things I intended’. In the same letter he asks to be sent ‘the list of people to whom you sent b. & b. at my behest: they are all useful propagandists, but there are one or two more (e.g. Prince Francis of Bavaria & the Grand Duke of Luxembourg?) that I’m not sure are on it - but who would spread the good word. I had dinner with Princ Clary (in his middle 80s but spring as a chicken still) & he said he looked forward always to every edition. I remember Nancy Rodd alias Mitford once telling me that everybody in Europe knew Alphy Clary. Perhaps that was true, in the quaint way English was used by the Society of her day. Mollie Buccleuch is a diligent reader, & so is Kisty Hesketh: both have salons in the 18th. century sense.’ He continues at great length about Charles, Prince of Schwarzenberg. ‘The other potential reviewer I have to offer you is a Deputy Keeper at that Treasure House: the V. & A. Museum, from which, however, he is shortly retiring to look after his Irish estates. [...] He is the Knight of Glin - technically the 29th Black Knight - and would write under that, his correct name (instead of his ‘shy-name’ of Desmond Fitz-Gerald used for convenience at the V. & A.) He is one of the only three hereditary knights - all Geraldines - the others being the Knight of Kerry (alias Sir George FitzGerald, Bart.) or the Green Knight; and the White Knight, who is missing. The Black Knight because the Knight of the Valley, then Gaelicised intto the Knight of the Glen, ending up corrupted into the Knight of Glin. The entrance gates to Glin Castle (in county Limerick, his Eire address) have a warning THESE LANDS ARE LAID WITH POISON.’ On ‘St. Conran’s Eve, 1973’ he suggests other reviewers: ‘Don Agustin Edwards, the Duc de la Force and the Comte de Durfort’. In March of 1975 he once again offers to pull aristocratic strings: ‘The Viscount Cranborne (formerly Robert Cecil) tells me he will review books for b & b on modern biography & modern. His address is The Lodge House, Hatfield, Herts. / I think the Duchess of St. Albans, St. Albans House, 30 Cheyney Walk, Chelsea, S.W.3, who is a French writer, will also do a piece if asked. By all means use me by way of introduction.’ And in an undated letter he suggests sending the magazine to ‘Nicholas Fairbairn of Fordell, Q.C.’, who will ‘certainly read it with acute intelligence, & pass on his thoughts. He has just been adopted as Alec Home’s controversial successor in the western half of our Perthshire constituency, & his wife is a sister of that clever eccentric Ld. Reay’. There is a reference to ‘the Honble. Mrs. Lyle, who is an intellectual blue-stocking but very attractive’, and the theatre historian Richard (‘Dicky) Buckle (1916-2001) is a common acquaintance, referred to several times. Only one letter has its envelope, which is postmarked 28 March 1974, and playfully addressed to ‘E. Z. Wrong, Esqe., / c/o Philip Dossé, Esqe., / books & bookmen, / hanson books, / Artillery Mansions, / 75 Victoria Street, LONDON. S.W.1.’, with ‘If away please forward to Snodlands, Kent: for publication with Mr. Wrong’s consent.’, and this note in red ink beneath the two stamps: ‘Dear Postie - I hope this is inflated enough?’ The playful letter reads: ‘Right mr. Wrong - about Sodom: / But I never quite took in what actually went on at Gomorrah? / Can’t find out because if I was turned into an invaluable pillar of salt, my family would have to kill one of the geese that lay our national golden eggs. This is because in order to escape Wealth Tax they would have to sell the salt, and any delay in the sale would incur Death Duties, Capital Gains Tax, possibly Gift Tax (that backward glance might be construed by Inland Revenue judges as tantamount to a dying gift after disregarding divine warning), looking-like-a-toffy-nosed-aristo-who-ought-to-be-made-to-howl-with-anguish Tax &c. This would mean selling a Louis the Whatnot armchair to pay the extra taxes that had arisen during the delay in selling the salt (because of inflation, devaluation, Hungarian economists, &c.). This would in turn mean selling my pants to pay similar taxes on the chair, & so on ad infinitum. / But I don’t wear anything under my kilt, and if I sold that how would I pay the £50 fine for ‘streaking’? / Your perplexed reader, / R. I. K. Moncrieff.’ An undated letter contains a tantalizing piece of gossip: ‘I rather think my first mother-in-law (Lady Idina Sackville, who had five husbands, but died unmarried) was at one time Sir Oswald Mosley’s mistress. Certainly he gave her a beautiful dressing-table set specially designed by Louis Cartier in person, which my first wife still has. I see from my White’s list that he’s been a member since 1919.’ The care Moncreiffe takes over his reviews is apparent from his discussion of them before publication, and the numerous changes he makes in proof. In July of 1972 he explains two deliberate mistakes: ‘that’s why I wrote awefully at page 8. And abhominably somewhere else. It shakes blasé cliché-droppers to be reminded what words really me.’ In a three-card letter on ‘St. Somebody’s Day, 1972’ he expresses the hope that ‘the review of my ancestral grandma’s activities won’t land you in prison, to be bailed out by Frank Pakenham, alias Ld Longford.’, adding: ‘Goodness, we Scots do bang on. I regard the rising pile of books about us with astonishment.’ In January of 1976: ‘Am doing Prebble’s MUTINY as soon as possible. Feel strongly about it, & have read it carefully. / But have to complete a work on the Irish high-kings; spend a week in England (including a speech in the Oxford Union); write a difficult Counsel’s Opinion; & deal with some tricky correspondence first; so doubt it will reach you for a while.’ An undated letter (‘Monday’), begins: ‘We’re home at last, in a state of utter exhaustion. But tomorrow we go to attend the Queen for the Royal Visit to Scotland, returning on Friday night only to attend the French celebrations given by their Consul-General on Saturday, & then setting out on Sunday to stay with the Lt. Governor of Nova Scotia, who has rashly invited all the Baronets of Nova Scotia plus Princess Alexandra to attend the 350th. anniversary of the arrival there of the Hector.’ On ‘St. Anatholia’s Day, 1972’ he explains that he is going to London ‘for a couple of days to be a Godfather & attend a club dinner & watch my brother-in-law being installed in the House of Lords as Lord Teynham (whose late father was the naughty old sailor who inadvertently gave an escaped “approved school’ girl a lift to a nudist colony). On 16 August 1972 he is ‘being sculpted in a tabard and have to stand in a ridiculous attitude for hours at a time’ (for the bust is in the Register House, Edinburgh). He discusses his health on 22 December 1972, with ‘anti-flu pills’ and ‘effervescent redoxon’, adding ‘We have just returned home, to find a mountain of correspondence and other work, besides our Christmas cards not yet sent. But, I have it in mind that the priority review is Debrett, followed by The Natural History of the Vampire (Vampires seem very fashionable just now), though there might be an opportunity to dash of [sic] a short Scottish review.’ In a letter only dated ‘Wednesday’ he reports that he has had ‘a number of favourable reactions to the Dracula review’: ‘Lady Rosebery approached me after the Thistle Service (she’d had it from Foyle’s) and said jestingly that it ought to be reported to Lord Longford. Nicholas Fairbairn, Scotland’s leading criminal Q.C., spoke highly of it. Anita Leslie’s brother wrote from Rome to say Cecil Roberts (whom I don’t know) had liked it. And Sacheverel Sitwell told me he had much enjoyed reading it. So perhaps it wasn’t as bad as I’d feared.’ On 1 October 1973 he reports that ‘Anita Leslie’s brother staying with us, but all three of us going South tonight for the Butter-Ramsay wedding on Wednesday. Shooting up here with Elgin’s brother Jamie Bruce on Saturday. Taking notes South.’ And on the ‘Thursday’ (4 October 1973) he reports: ‘I was so in wine after the wedding yesterday that I slept all through dinner with Ly. Lovat & Ld. Eldon & my wife & left for the railway train with Ly. Lovat’s childhood Mademoiselle’s (“Zet”’s) spectacles in my pocket: sleeping in the sleeper in my stiff collar, blue tie, pearl tie-pin, grey waistcoat, trousers & all.’ He returns from Turkey in February of 1974 : ‘Saw Ephesus & Troy, besides Gallipoli, which was not the scene of my great-uncle Ian Hamilton’s greatest success.’ In 16 August 1974 he reports: ‘Went out today with Lord Lovat (6 guns) to bag some grouse for the pot. Walked over hills through bogs & heather for hours in pouring rain, but all told we bagged only two birds: rather a loaves-and-fishes share-out among 6 people + 4 wives! But to read the Press about the comforts of the grouse moor was fun: one ass even suggested they should be shot (in the air!) with rifles - don’t journalists know rifle bullets can kill a man up to 2 miles?’ On 23 April 1980 he writes: ‘Have just taken silk as a Q.C., but haven’t yet acquired my big wig!’ Two other letters written in the same year concern Moncrieff’s daughter Lady Alexandra Hay, and the trio conclude the correspondence. Moncrieff’s review is of Angus Wolfe Murray’s selection of ‘Comic Tales of Edgar Allan Poe’. It is 6pp, 8vo, with covering page, on seven letterheads from the Ritz Hotel, London. Moncrieff manages to get an extended reference to the editor’s antecedents, beginning: ‘I usually call Angus Wolfe Murray “the Wolf of Moray”, a complicated fourteenth century pun based on Murray being a different spelling of Moray and the Bishop of Moray’s cathedral having been burnt down by King Robert III’s brother, the Wolfe of Badenoch.’ He also recalls ‘sitting on a warm afternoon on the green lawns of Stowe looking across the artificial lake towards the Temple of Ancient Worthies’, where he ‘admired the verse but abhorred the sentiment’ of the stanza on heraldry in Gray’s Elegy. The covering letter (‘Monday’, 2pp, 8vo) explains he has written the review on a railway sleeper to London, where he is attending the state opening of parliament, being unable to sleep because of ‘two different untraceable rattles’. In Lady Moncrieff’s undated letter (4pp, 12mo) she discusses the Atholl Highlanders, whose uniform her husband is wearing in a photograph (not present) she has sent Dosse. It is ‘the only private army in this country’ and ‘Rank is based on chieftancy, & there is according to Iain no nonsense about merit. They have a retired Major General who is still only a Private & once had an admiral who was only a Lieutenant’.