Exceptional ALS in pencil signed “xxx, Jackie,” three pages on two sheets, 8.25 x 10.5, postmarked August 1955. Letter to her mother Janet Auchincloss, in full: “How can I ever thank you enough for my heavenly birthday letter—you don’t know how much it meant—or how much it made being far away from home feel like a birthday—& especially when I know the frenzy you are in now—it was so sweet of you to write it—& my fabulous check—I have bought the most beautiful thing with it for our new house—2 enormous black & gold tea caddies with green marbleized tops to be used as end tables—they are heaven—Lee discovered them this winter & I was longing for them all the time—who would ever have thought I would get them for a birthday present. Thank you so so much Mummy—you always have made occasions out of things birthdays—Easter etc. & you never realize how important that is until you are far away—Your letters came in the evening—& that night—all dressed up in evening clothes to go to the Aldriches dinner for the Dillons—Lee & Michael produced a bottle of champagne & gave me this sweet drawing in a gold & satinwood frame—its ink & watercolor—a pink pavilion & a dreamy man in a pink coat on a horse standing in a brook nearby. We left for Paris the next morning. Michael drove as there was room for no one in the car once we had the bags in. We stayed at Solanges flat—she & Henri & child are all away—had driven with Cleveland Amory & wife the first nite & collapsed & ate oeuf durs by ourselves the 2nd.
Then we flew to Nice Sat nite, got to the flat about 1 am—all the lights went out—but luckily Michael was already there & helped to get bags in. It is just a dream—tiny but a delicious terrace—we’ve only been here 2 days & today is rainy—but yesterday we lay in the boiling sun—got up at 730 to go to market & had tomatoes & paté & cheese & vin rosé on our terrace for lunch. Jacques Prevert the existentialist poet has the terrace below us & Michael said the afternoon he got there—guess who was having tea with Prevert—Picasso. Michael kept staring over the terrace & they smiled sickly at each other—We will start calling up people tomorrow—We were so lilly white we wanted to hide for a day. The last I heard from Jack a phone call the nite before we left London. He was still coming. I pray he is—because I have the most beautiful peaceful fall mapped out for him—away from politics & the gloomy Cape—if only he feels well enough to stay over here maybe he’ll get his strength back. I suppose I will miss Nini’s party. I can't believe it as it never occurred to me that I would—it seems so far away & I was sure I wouldn’t come over & I’d go back, then your letter brought me to my senses with a jolt—I am really miserable about that. I know it will be a dream evening, & worth all the furor before—how could it help but be at Hammersmith—& with the people who will be there for tennis week & the trouble you’ve taken—Lee & I will dance a sad little waltz together at midnight in some fisherman’s café Aug 12 & drink a toast to Nim—& you! So many many thanks again Mummy for all my lovely birthday—& so many thanks & love to Uncle Hugh too—I will write again soon.” Jackie adds a small overhead plan sketch of the interior of her flat. In very good to fine condition, with intersecting folds, and creasing to the top and bottom edges. Accompanied by the original mailing envelope, addressed in Jackie’s own hand.
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