The Dennis Wheatley 'Museum' - The Post War Years

My dear Bob, Mr [x], Your Grace, and Ladies & Gentlemen

This is certainly one of the happiest moments of my life. During it I have given many parties but I don’t think at any of them I have succeeded in getting together over twenty of my very best friends at one time. And now it has been done for me. So I would like to start by thanking Bob Lusty for his charming thought in suggesting this dinner and to our Chairman for all the trouble he has gone to in organising it.

Looking round this table the guests at it recall to me both innumerable happy occasions and the whole sequence of my career from the ending of the First World War until tonight.

Two of the Company’s guests, Joe Links and Cyril Eastaugh I have known for well over 40 years. In the early 20s neither of them nor I could claim any particular distinction. But today Joe is a director of the most Ancient [?] and Honourable Enterprise The Hudson Bay Company. Cyril, or Bobby, as he has always been officially known to me, is the Lord Bishop of Peterborough, while I have become a not altogether unknown author.

To this last fact Joe made a considerable contribution. One evening in 1936 he suggested to me that I should write a murder story with photographs of real people as the characters. If photos, why not cables, hand-written letters and physical clues, such as hair and bloodstained [illeg]. From this came the  Murder Dossiers which we wrote together. I had already written some thrillers and achieved a most encouraging success, but it was Murder off Miami, 120,000 copies sold in the first six [months?] that first made my name a household word.

The Bishop on the other hand, you will be surprised to learn, wanted me to commit a crime. True he had not yet gone into the church, and not long before had been one of those desperate characters who won MCs in the Machine Gun Corps. However, he went up to Oxford to take his degree and invited me up for the weekend. We had a roaring time on the Friday night then on Sat morning he said “got to go to lectures, come on Dennis, here's a gown, you come too.” So by this entirely illegal means I can claim to have attended a seat of learning.

Next in order of length of service – as one might say – is my son Anthony. Now in his fortieth year. We share a love of good wine and many other things; and he’s a better man than I am Gungadin! I only produced one child – that is as far as I know – but he has given me six fine grandchildren – so that the name of Wheatley should not perish from the earth.

Lord Derwent is the head of my wife’s family, and a jolly good head. Not only have he and his wife entertained us royally many times at Hackness Hall in Yorkshire; but they have the children and grandchildren up to stay and in these decadent days it is a wonderful experience for young people to see what life is like in one of England’s stately homes. Until recently Lord Derwent was a Minister of the Crown and I'm sure we all hope that at the very [illeg] date he will again hold high office.

My stepson Jack Younger, over there, has been much more to me than a relation by marriage. We are the closest friends and for him I have admiration as well as affection. He is if not the youngest then one of the youngest full Colonels in our modern army, so he deserves a feather in his [red?] hat.

Most of you know that I started life as a wine merchant. In 1926 I inherited the family business. In four years I had doubled the turnover, a disastrous thing to do. It was under capitalised, so in the great slump I as near as damn it went bankrupt. In the difficult [negotiations?] that followed my accountants Messrs FW Stephens played an invaluable part. Neville Hayman here, has for many years been the head of his firm, and although at times he sends me terrifying letters about Super Tax I owe it to his personal interest that I get every penny of allowance that can be got.

I got out of my troubles by selling my business to a combine, but having been my own [illeg] I didn’t much like being the junior of 8 Directors, so I left it on the understanding that I could turn my private [personal?] customers [?] over to J & B. My income had gone down pretty badly but at least I had some spare time on my hands, so I thought I might make £50 by writing a thriller.

On that my luck turned again as I was given an introduction to Messrs. A.P. Watt the oldest and most distinguished literary agents in the business. They not only placed my first book with Mr Hutchinson but later secured translation of my work into 26 languages. Mr Peter Watt the present head of the firm has made innumerable fine contracts for me, and I owe him my thanks for becoming one of the directors of DW Ltd.

My first book the Forbidden Territory got off to a good start. It was reprinted seven times in seven weeks. That of course was largely due to the kindness of leading booksellers and libraries who [pushed ?] it. The first in the field was Cadness Page, the Chief Librarian of Harrods. Although an unknown author he invited me right away to speak at one of his Literary [Teas?] and has been a tower of strength to me ever since.

Into the field with equal promptness [?] came Foyle’s, dear old Will [William Foyle, who had just died 1963] and clever Christina, and later her husband Ronald Batty, who is with us tonight, Christina provides the gracious [?] beautiful [?] silver tongued front, but I am told that it is Ronald who is the mainspring that has made Foyle's the greatest bookshop in the world. To them I owe the sale of not less than 2,000,000 copies of my books.

Another factor in success as an author is a good press. Reviewers have in the main been extremely kind to me. Norman Collins, who [sadly?] is taking the [illeg illeg] tonight gave me my first review “the ... of Dumas and Baroness Orczy with a dash of Edgar Wallace thrown in.”

But for every person who reads the book page in a paper 20 read the gossip column. In those days Lord Donegall was writing the Personalities page for the Sunday Despatch, and he gave me many a helpful boost.

[four? words illeg – what is this? ...Encore?? ...La Salle?]

It was not until the war that I met Thomas Joy who is now one of the Managing Directors of the Army and Navy Stores. When Cadness Page went to the war Thomas succeeded him as Head Librarian at Harrods. And we started our acquaintance with a [blazing?] row. Walter Hutchinson had decided  [to put up price] up from 8/6 to 10/6. He thought he could force the libraries to accept the rise in price by starting it with an author in great public demand. My book the Scarlet Impostor was chosen to carry the can.  Joy led the opposition and [with?] the other Big 4 ... modified by 50%. But a compromise was reached and ever since we have been firm friends. I may add his ... work...for the Booksellers Association  ...earning the gratitude of the Trade, Publishers and Authors alike [?]

As you will recall the opening of the Second World War was very different from that of the First. In September 1914 I was given a commission as a territorial gunner but in September 1939 no volunteers were called for; and as I was then [over?] 40, I [thought my job would be with, or words to that effect?] job... was the M of I [Ministry of Information]. They wouldn't have me as a gift. My wife went into MI5. Jack was at Sandhurst and about to go into the Coldstream Guards. Anthony in due course went into the Royal Marines... The servants [?] went to [illeg]. I was told ‘you stay home and write your stories so the ARP wardens have something to read. But in May 1940 I got a break [?]

Hitler had marched through France, and it was thought that his next move would be to invade England. I wrote a paper ‘Resistance to Invasion’ a copy of it reached Sir Louis Greig, he asked me to lunch to discuss it with Darvall. They took this amateur effort quite seriously, after lunch I said ‘I’ve no war job, can you suggest anything I can do. Darvall said yes, go home and write a paper on how you would invade England. I didn’t know then that he was a member of the JPS. 90% of what I wrote was probably nonsense but they all said that they had been brought up to fight war like cricket whereas I had the mind of a Nazi.        

Anyhow they found me useful enough to want me inside and at last in Dec 41 an opportunity[?] Regulations forbade the[m?] giving [me?] any higher rank than Pilot Officer – Chefs Hat. Put me up a rung a month. But again regulations insisted that I go on an intake course to Uxbridge to learn not to slap Air Marshals on the back.

On my first morning there we were put in a group and photographed as though we were a large rugby team. Of the 600 present very few of us had ribbons ... those who had were made to [illeg...] to front rank [?] . Next to me was a slim [handsome?] fellow who turned out to be no less a person than the His Grace of Richmond. We compared notes about the things we had let ourselves in for. Cold, discomfort, marching up and down and [illeg]. That we were prepared to put up with. But we had both seen notices saying that no alcohol allowed in camp. Well, while we were prepared to serve K and C we were not prepared to go dry for them. And at the start of war, one was lucky if one could get a small sherry in the evening. However, as an old soldier I had arrived with two canteens. One filled with water, the other with old brandy. So after every parade Freddy and I could be seen sneaking off like two schoolboys to smoke cigarettes behind a haystack. But in our case it was to take long strong pulls [?]. By these means we kept body and soul together and from the illicit drinking a delightful friendship sprung.

Immediately after [place of camp – Cha...?] I found myself among the mighty[?] [in/on?] the offices of the War Cabinet. The new[?] team consisted of myself and a nice old Colonel, and we were considered so secret that we were not allowed to communicate with anyone except members of the ISSB, and we were given the huge room overlooking St. James Park usually reserved for Ministers of State. The first afternoon an officer in the Royal Scots appeared and very civilly invited me to lunch at Rules. He was Colonel Combe [present] of the ISSB[?] and it was the first of many lunches I enjoyed with him. Lunch at Rules with Eddie Combe was a good invitation . Every day he had a table here for six or eight and sooner or later one met there everyone involved in any secret activity in the war. Such contacts were for...... to Eddie Combe’s lunches [illeg] to .. for us in a wonderful way.

Eric Goudie here was also a member of the ISSB and for him I have an enormous admiration. Not only is he the right hand man of C.Beatty [?] the Copper King [?] .... but he is also concerned in ... that recently built the first sky scraper in Holborn [?]. And on top of it he................. you would think these activities would keep him very fully  occupied, but no. ... he manages to hunt two or three days a week, and that I consider to be real genius. 

A few months after I arrived at the Cabinet Office, my sole companion in glorious isolation  defected [departed?] and his place was taken by Colonel Bevan [present]. Then, things really began to hum. He had us moved down to the famous basement with[?] to [S – illeg]. And soon after we were given our first great task to prepare the Cover and Deception plans for the landing in north Africa known as Torch. With such small assistance as I could give him he made the plan. It was brilliantly successful. Not a ship or a man was lost. When we had made the plan we had to bring in four or five other officers to aid with implementation and under his splendid leadership [for the year?] we a formed a happy band of brothers.

My own contribution was mainly a very pleasant one. Taking a leaf out of Eddie Combe's book I regularly[?] gave little lunch and dinner parties. I often had to ask the help of [illeg ] and I soon discovered that like other mortals they had to eat. So standing rather [?] to attention, having made my request[report?] I used to say “I wonder, Sir if you would care to lunch with me one day next week.” They generally looked slightly surprised but accepted [?] and of course that made getting things done very much easier. In fact it can be said that like [Lady illeg illeg?] who spent her life eating for charity, I spent my war Eating for Victory. 

A young officer in Marlboro’s day described war as long periods of intense boredom punctuated by short intervals of acute fear. On the Western Front I found this definition still held but in the Second World War, for me it was a continual series of long lunches, punctuated by short intervals of exciting work. And you will recall we won both wars.

One high officer that I approached in this way was the Director of Plans Air; now Air Chief Marshal Sir William Elliott [present]. [two words illeg] we two lunched and dined innumerable times together and after the war he most kindly invited me to stay with him when he was Chairman of British Joint Services in Washington. To see [?] him at work was a delight, as he is not only a great [Airman?] but a great Diplomat. [French?] ...[Colonel??] ...illeg...eat out of his hand[?]. In fact it is safe to say that no one has done more to strengthen and maintain Anglo-American friendship.

Among the officers who later came on to our little party was Derrick Morley. He was our secret emissary and in ...[illeg]...used to fly about Europe in the bomb bays of Mosquitoes to neutral countries to instruct our Ambassadors in the sort of lies they must tell at dinner parties, which would get back to Berlin, and [mystify?] and mislead our enemies. For Derrick, as for Eric, I am filled with admiration. In Ireland he runs a Shipping Line, he has also developed there during the past few years from scratch a Travel agency that now employs several hundred people, yet he spends Friday to Tuesday in his [dairy farm?] in Kent[?], and on Wed and Thursday you will be fairly certain to find him in either White’s or the St James’s Club. How these chaps do it is a mystery. I only wish I knew the answer.

Last but not least of the Company’s guests, for I met him only 20 years ago, is Cecil Blatch [para largely illegible but about Cecil Blatch]... He is the Chairman of my Company, and it is rather a [ something about 49% and 51%, [or 48 and 51 and 1] paragraph punchline “I don’t own any”]

In 1960 I handed myself over bound hand and foot [to the Company, some people named by initials: Cecil Blatch and Peter Watt... something about trustees] Time was when I could work or not as I liked. Things are very different now. I am their [slave?]. For example I might have spent next January Feb March quietly in my own house/home[?]. But not a bit of it. I have my orders and must now obey. They write to me saying [you have used up illeg?]. [Get out?] go to the South Seas and get background for another book. I am instructed to go and [illeg – climb?] some pyramids in Mexico, too, ..... illeg...... and risk catching some awful disease in Delhi. And all this in the depth of winter. What is more I’m not to get a penny of the money from the books. They have arranged for it to go to my [illeg] children and grandchildren. [next sentence – punchline – illegible – ‘Still when I’m in ... promised to present me with a bottle of vin ordinaire’]

Of course I still get an income for my books published previously to 1960. But will Mr H [i.e. Hutchinson? – no – died 1950] continue to reprint them? That’s the rub [?] [trouble?]. As they have now sold over 20,000,000 copies I have hopes that they will. But one can’t be certain. I’ll have to keep on the right side of the hard headed Sales Director [Geoffrey Howard? Present] but I’ve always found him open to reason, and I think I can count on him and Bob. In fact for Bob [illeg] and he as Art Director designed the jacket for my last book. I have always met with kindness and consideration from every member of the firm. Hutchinson’s have done a wonderful job for me over 30 years and no author could have had a better publisher.

Finally[?] I am more proud than I can say to find myself this evening to find myself the centre of such a Distinguished [?] gathering [?]. I am deeply grateful to all the Company’s guests for coming and particularly to Bob and [illeg] for giving me this [splendid opportunity? – or similar phrase] to thank you all.      

[END]    

Transcription courtesy of Phil Baker