DIARY ALEXANDRA ARTLEY E arlier this week we found ourselves among
Lord Gowrie's guests in a pretty peppermint-green-and-white striped mar- quee in Wiltshire. This very jolly party preceded the private view of Sotheby's sale of Wilsford Manor, home of the late Stephen Tennant. As several guests re- marked, it seemed very much a 'chosen luncheon'. In a short address, Lord Gowrie himself said something about a modern- day 'Flodden Field'. Laura, Duchess of Marlborough looked very sprightly in a deep-red wool bouclé suit and stunning cherry-coloured wide-brimmed hat worn in the manner of Audrey Hepburn. Lady Sylvie Thynne popped about on fashion- ably 1-o-n-g, black-clad legs and Diana Parkin (married to gallery-owning Michael) arrived in a charming 'Victorian' red tartan dress fastened at the throat with a big jet clip. Lord Neidpath, Drue Heinz, David Mlinaric and Patrick and John Reyntiens all wandered about. Moving with street fashion, two young artists each wore a thin red ribbon round their necks — a French Revolutionary fashion inspired by decapitation and called at that time a la merveilleuse. For some reason, David Wat- kin arrived dressed as Evelyn Waugh and received a graceful cut for apparently travelling in the wrong political direction ('wrong way'). Wilsford Manor is not a house which could be totally 'preserved' because its interior decorative effects are too ephemeral. It was all rather strange (`Shall we burn the house down?' Stephen would have loved that'). Stephen Tennant liked shells and things to do with the sea. Throwing old nets and silk shawls down the stairs looks quite interesting but I think they would trip people up. He also did odd illustrations called, for example, 'The Toad Wore A Toque' (1921). I do not really like shell-shaped chairs upholstered in pastel satin but I wonder whether aesthetes of the Twenties like Stephen Tennant and Cecil Beaton quite conscious- ly modelled their 'French' effects on Dubarry rather than Pompadour. Perhaps it meant 'at court but not of it'. That afternoon the atmosphere at Wilsford was curiously charged and there were several serious undercurrents. One rumour on the tom-toms concerned the proposed Great National Health March. When I find out who is organising this, I would very much like to join it. The aim is to put half a million people on the streets of London in support of higher funding for the NHS. Later that evening we arrived home. In a burst of nostalgic enthusiasm I put on an absolutely ancient Stones LP and trotted round the sofas to it with the children. When it comes to Government plans for the NHS, I too, 'Can't Get No Satisfac- tion'. Later, I changed the music. Marching days are here again. It may be the 'Whig interpretation of history', but cutting people socially for political reasons is coming back. There is also greater unease between journalists. This week, for example, I found it perfect- ly astonishing that a modest article by John Lloyd in The Sunday Times had to be concluded with the words, 'This is the second in a new series of weekly articles written from a left-wing point of view', This is the editorial equivalent of the Govern- ment Health Warning on a packet of cigarettes ('John Lloyd can seriously dam- age your health'). In fact he is very low-tar. Surely it is enough to say that John Lloyd is the editor of the New Statesman? Readers themselves decide whether the man has anything interesting or constructive to say. Similarly, I was mildly surprised to find that in this week's Sunday Telegraph Miss Mary Kenny implied I was some sort of Labour Party hack out to down 'Tories'. I am a quiet patriot. For a responsible citizen it is always an obligation construc- tively to detest all governments. This one makes that obligation a joy.
Every day now, the postman hands in little bundles of letters from mothers wor- ried about John Moore's plans to means- test Child Benefit ('targeting' it, as the Government would prefer means-testing to be known). As a child I was always taught to question political authority and shake it like a rat. In contrast, I am very touched by the gentle 'Primrose League' mentality of 'It goes red in acid rain.' all those mothers who write to me. Here is a bit of one letter from a woman in Hove: 'Dear Alexandra Artley, Your article on Child Benefit in the Daily Telegraph was absolutely spot on . . . . I keep the cover pages of my last little buff book in my bureau as a constant reminder of how grateful I have been for the money. My daughter, a young mother herself, who also works part-time as a nurse, now has a hefty mortgage along with everyday living expenses and she is always telling me how grateful she is to have a few pounds in her purse . . . . I admire Mrs Thatcher, but of course, she married a wealthy man . . . I am a European not an American and it is to civilised European countries we must now turn when examining social benefit reform. Recently, I happened to flick through Child Support in the European Community by Jonathan Bradshaw and David Pichaud Bedford Square Press, 1980). In Belgium, for example, I was amazed to learn that family allowances are not only paid universally, there are addi- tional supplements for older children staged at six to ten, 10-14 and 14 plus. Unlike Britain, family allowances are also linked to the retail price index. We must have this here. In 1980 Family Allowance per child in Belgium (for an average- income two-child family) was £842 com- pared with £416 in the UK. As I find it quite hard to deal personally with all the letters I receive on this subject, may I refer women readers to a new organisation, the SAVE CHILD BENEFIT ALLIANCE (4th Floor, 1-5 Bath Street, London EC1V 9PY). This excellent organisation is com- posed of over one hundred child welfare and other public bodies including the National Federation of Womens' Insti- tutes (chairman, Agnes Salter), the Catho- lic Child Welfare Council and the Central Council for Jewish Social Service. Now that our economy is flourishing, raising social benefits for young and old alike to the best European standard is a matter of national urgency. If not, John Moore, the Secretary for Social Services, will soon discover that the Primrose League is still the Conservative Party's primrose path.
Although spring seems far away, to me there is the faint scent of primroses in the air. This week I also received a charming letter from Mr D.H. Cutting of Nottingham. Referring to my recent article ('Who Will Handbag for Labour?') he says the primrose was not necessarily Disraeli's favourite flower. When Queen Victoria sent primroses to Disraeli's funeral marked 'His favourite flower' Mr Cutting suggests she was thinking, as always, of Prince Albert. Does anyone else know?
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