European Diary, 1977-1981 (44 page)

FRIDAY, 11 AUGUST.
East Hendred.

Lunch with the Rolls, who had Kingman Brewsters (the American Ambassador in London), Robert Marjolin and Michael Stewarts (ex-Ditchley)
¹⁵
to lunch at Ipsden. The good view I had formed of Brewster on the brief occasion when I had had a drink with him in London a few months before, was sustained. Not primarily serious conversation, though about half an hour on the political aspects of monetary union.

MONDAY, 14 AUGUST.
East Hendred.

Diana Phipps, George Weidenfeld and Nicko Henderson to lunch with Jennifer at the Blue Boar. An enjoyable lunch, Nicko ebullient, George agreeable and unpushing in every way, I suppose
because his ambitions are now fulfilled. I have never known him so well informed on a wide range of issues. The Annans came to East Hendred for several sets of tennis between 5.30 and 7.30.

TUESDAY, 15 AUGUST.
East Hendred and Sare.

Plane to Bilbao. Drove across the French frontier to reach the Beaumarchais' at Sare by 6.00. Jacques had his foot in a plaster case as a result of a broken bone and was therefore rather immobile and subdued.

THURSDAY, 17 AUGUST.
Sare.

The first fine day for a long time. I collected the Tavernes
¹⁶
from Bayonne Marina and brought them back to the Beaumarchais' for lunch. They were on very good form, both elegant with completely grey hair, Dick Viking-like in a sort of naval casquette, but balanced and sensible in his judgements: a highly attractive and intelligent man.

MONDAY, 21 AUGUST.
Sare.

The weather had cleared again. I drove into Biarritz with Jennifer and Marie-Alice and swam, then lunched in, read, and worked on a review of Arthur Schlesinger's
Robert Kennedy.
Dined at the Fagoagos' (a local doctor) to meet the Spanish-Basque nationalist leader, Monzón, who has lived in St Jean-de-Luz since the civil war, and was a typical exile, interesting culturally, but totally unrealistic politically. He wanted an independent Basque state, which would form some sort of loose Iberian federation with Spain on the same basis as, he suggested, Portugal should do. He slightly reminded me of old Gwynfor Evans.
¹⁷

WEDNESDAY, 23 AUGUST.
Sare.

Drove into Biarritz earlier than usual, with Jennifer and Robert and Serena Armstrong (who had arrived to stay), swam in the usual
bouncing breakers, went into the Hôtel du Palais to show the Armstrongs the plaque commemorating Asquith's kissing hands there with King Edward VII on his appointment as Prime Minister in 1908, and noted again that although only about fifty words long it contains two mistakes.

Chaban Delmas'
¹⁸
to lunch. Chaban, although looking somewhat older than when I had seen him last two years ago, seemed more vigorous and, although talking desultorily during lunch, was striking afterwards. His perspective of French politics was at once traditional and personal. He was indifferent to Giscard, but in favour of maintaining the prerogatives of a President of the Fifth Republic, and bitterly critical of Chirac, whom he thought the embodiment of all evil, for opposing him, a curious reversal of positions since Chirac supported Giscard in 1974 and scuppered Chaban's own candidature as a result. Chaban believed that Mitterrand remained in a powerful position, still full of ambition for the 1981 election, but that when he had gone, which he thought would not be until after that, the French Socialist Party might well split up as there would then be nobody to hold it together.

THURSDAY, 24 AUGUST.
Sare and East Hendred.

We left just at 11.00, getting into Spain in an hour. We got slightly lost on the way to Bilbao airport, but this at least gave us a view of Bilbao, which reminded me of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, before they got rid of the smog. East Hendred at 5.00 on a fine but cool afternoon. The visit to Sare had been a great success. It was, as always, a great pleasure to be with the Beaumarchais', and the Armstrongs made a
bonne-bouche
at the end. I think Jacques needed guests and I suspect if he remains immobile for much longer and Giscard blocks his having anything to do, he may go into a slight decline, which would be very sad indeed.

FRIDAY, 25 AUGUST.
East Hendred and North Wales.

Left mid-morning to drive to Talsarnau and stay with the Harlechs. We went via Cirencester, Gloucester, Ledbury and Leominster, just
beyond which we picnicked in a field with a good Herefordshire red soil view and the sun coming out on a beautiful but cool day. Then on to Ludlow, and to Craven Arms and Bishop's Castle, through my old 1940 forestry camp area over the road up which David Ginsburg and I (Anthony Elliott joined us next day) had bicycled on a warm mid-July evening in 1940, stopping at a pub for supper and hearing one of Churchill's most famous 9 o'clock Sunday evening broadcasts -1 think the ‘fight on the beaches' one.
¹⁹
Then on through the rolling open countryside of Montgomeryshire into the tiny town of Montgomery where I had never been before, and to Bala, which looked a little less bleak in the sunlight than I had ever seen it, but which was true to form in refusing us a drink because we were too early (normally it is because it is a Sunday). Glyn at 6.30.

SATURDAY, 26 AUGUST.
North Wales.

A perfect day, strong sunlight, quite cool. Tennis morning and evening. Lunch in the garden. At the end of the afternoon I went for a short drive down to the sea to see the view of the mountains. After tennis it was such a perfect evening that I then drove alone once again to the sea at 8.15 and saw a memorable sunset over the Lleyn Peninsula.

MONDAY, 28 AUGUST.
North Wales.

A difficult drive via Beddgelert and Caernarvon to lunch with the Cledwyn Hughes'
²⁰
on the edge of Anglesey at Trearddur Bay. Of all my close friends in the House of Commons I think he was the only one whom I hadn't seen since leaving and I was anxious to fill the gap. He is not standing again and therefore has probably been in the House of Commons for the last time as a member. He said he was bored with the House, most of his friends had left and he thought he preferred to get out at sixty-one rather than sixty-five and get other things to do, of which I think he will find a considerable number.
Indeed he had already been asked, most surprisingly, to be Ombudsman but, wisely I think, had turned it down. He had had Callaghan on the telephone on Saturday night who was obviously wavering considerably about an October election, although it was Cledwyn's view that it was still more likely than not that Callaghan would come down for October and that this would be wise.

We then drove back across the island to call on the Angleseys
²¹
in their new flat at the top of Plas Newydd, they having evacuated and turned over the rest of the house to the National Trust.

WEDNESDAY, 30 AUGUST.
East Hendred.

Shirley Williams for lunch from 1.30 to 4.45, all in the garden. I found her buoyant. The rumours that she was disenchanted with politics and was going to give up, although not specifically denied by her, did not seem to me to fit in with her mood, which was one of considerable commitment. She is very pro Bill Rodgers, but fairly critical of most other people, particularly David Owen, but Hattersley
²²
too. She thought Denis (Healey) would not become leader unless the whole thing was absolutely made for him by Callaghan. He would only succeed as heir in very propitious circumstances. He would not have enough people fighting on his side to get him through a difficult contest, and if Callaghan—as he might well if he won—stayed on two or three years, that would probably see Denis out.

She, I think, was rather in favour of a spring than an autumn election, but not very certain about this. She was thoroughly sound on all European questions and anxious to be briefed on monetary issues, having had some quite long talks with Blumenthal (whom she had found wobbly and wavering) at Aspen where she had spent the summer, and she thought the American attitude was crucial for a UK Government decision.

THURSDAY, 31 AUGUST. East Hendred.

An incredibly dismal, dark, cold morning. We turned the heating on in the house and I lit a fire before lunchtime. Jennifer went to London for the day. In the evening we drove to West Wick near Pewsey to dine with the Devlins,
²³
who produced a (mainly) Oxford and legal dinner party with, as always, very good food and wine. Enjoyable evening.

FRIDAY, 1 SEPTEMBER.
East Hendred.

I had a long telephone talk with Bill Rodgers, with whom I had not been in touch for some time, and also a call from Debbie Owen saying that David was very anxious to see us, which slightly surprised me.

SATURDAY, 2 SEPTEMBER.
East Hendred.

Edmund Dells and Michael Jenkins's to lunch. It was the first time that Edmund Dell had ever been to any house of ours, and I had asked him—strange, shy, rather silent, good man that he is—mainly because I had been told by so many people that he was unsound on monetary union. I had therefore spoken to him at the Council of Ministers in July and said that I had heard that this was so, and why was it? To which he rather sweetly replied, ‘Well, perhaps it is because you haven't talked to me enough.' So I thought that maybe a talking session would be a good idea. Hence the lunch.

He proved more talkative and agreeable than I had expected on general subjects—China, music—and they were both good guests. I had a go at him on the central subject afterwards but I am not sure that I made much impression, not at the time at any rate. He produced a remarkably complicated and oversophisticated, also highly pessimistic—perhaps the two are the same—reason for his opposition. It was that he thought we would get too much German subsidy, too much German money, which would act, rather like North Sea oil, as a false cushion for us and go on making it unnecessary for British industry to make the fundamental changes, without which it was assuredly doomed.

SUNDAY, 3 SEPTEMBER.
East Hendred and Dublin.

The end of the long holiday and, alas, almost the brightest and best morning we had had. Crispin arrived to take me to the 12.50 plane to Dublin. He appeared vigorous after his Himalayan and Tibetan holiday in spite of having been bitten by a dog in some remote Asian country and consequently having to have a series of rabies injections.

On arrival in Dublin we drove to the hurling ground where, at the pressing invitation of the Taoiseach, we were to watch the all-Ireland championship finals. When asked to this event I had imagined that it was a sort of rustic occasion, with some traditional game being played on a village green. (I am not sure that I was absolutely clear of the distinction between hurling and curling.) Instead of this there was a ground the size of Twickenham or Cardiff Arms Park and a crowd of seventy thousand. It was obviously a great Irish state occasion, with not only the Taoiseach (Jack Lynch) but his predecessor Liam Cosgrave, Burke (my Commission colleague) and all sorts of Irish dignitaries present in the boxes. I found the game highly enjoyable, a curious mixture of hockey, lacrosse and rugger. I got a sufficiently clear view of the form by half-time to bet Colley, the Minister of Finance, that Cork would be the victors over Kilkenny, and this was not just a wild guess. I would gladly have invested more than £5, which was what I won. However, it was a well worthwhile bet for it became much publicized, as did my part in the whole occasion, which was, I suppose, good for the Commission profile in Ireland.

MONDAY, 4 SEPTEMBER.
Dublin and London.

Left the hotel about 10.00 to go and see the Taoiseach in his normal rather dismal offices. He did not seem on his brightest form. I think that, an old Cork hurling player himself, he was exhausted from his celebrations both at the match and in the evening with the team. He is definitely in favour of coming into the European Monetary System, but not very precise about what he wants out of it, although attaching more importance, as did his ministers subsequently, to Irish growth not being cut back than to any immediate transfer of resources or increase in the Regional Fund.

Then a meeting with three or four of the other main ministers: mainly Monetary System but some slightly more detailed issues as well. The Irish were much less inclined to grumble than the last time I saw them, and indeed went out of their way to say that their relations with the Commission and the Community were now excellent. After a lunch given by the Taoiseach in Iveagh House, we went for a drive and a walk round Phoenix Park on a most beautiful afternoon. Then a plane to London, and Kensington Park Gardens just before 6 o'clock.

David and Debbie Owen came for a drink. They were both thoroughly agreeable. David, although he had been rather in favour of a spring election, obviously thought that one for early October was now definitely fixed. Equally obviously he thought that he would not be Foreign Secretary after the election whatever happened, because if Labour won Healey would take over. He was rather disappointed at the thought of the election cancelling the Labour Party Conference, at which he believed he might have got a very good vote for the National Executive Committee.

Jennifer and I then went to the Capitol Hotel for dinner with the Soames's, at which were present, amongst others, Carringtons, Gordon Richardsons and John Harris's. Soames very tough and firm on Europe and on the Monetary System, Gordon reticent, a bit wobbly, but not in my view too bad, Carrington rather hopeless about his ability to deal with Mrs Thatcher and indeed very depressed about the prospects, saying quite firmly that he thought she would be against and that there would not be enough pro-European strength in a Tory Cabinet to carry her along.

TUESDAY, 5 SEPTEMBER.
London and Brussels.

To the National Westminster Bank in the City where I addressed their main board and their various regional boards (a total of about fifty people) on the EMS. 3.30 plane to Brussels and the new term.