Love is in the air and with this in mind I thought it time to return to the Housewife’s Handy Book and explore all things love and marriage in the letters section.

Romance is blooming, or not, as the case may be, for our two young lovers Harry and Agnes.

Let me remind you that the Housewife’s companion is a 1930s book covering everything from how to stew a pudding, put up wallpaper, rotate your crops or address a Lord.

Obviously it’s a perfect guide for love and marriage with proforma letters for every occasion, because nothing says love like a letter copied out of a book.

We start with Harry’s proposal.

He waxes on does our Harry. They’ve know each other a year, they’ve been on walks, to a few dances and the cinema. He has a pet name for her, Kiddie.

          ‘On the lovely walks we have been having during the long summer evenings, in my mind I have dropped into the habit of calling you by a name that no one else uses.’

I’m sure it was a more innocent time back then but sounds a bit creepy if you ask me.

          ‘All through our walks I have seemed to feel that I was somehow on trial, though I always tried to be myself and I have wanted to be on trial, wanted to know how you weigh me up, wanted to know, yes dear, wanted to know if you could ever learn to love me.’

Intense, right. Bit of a red flag?

          ‘Do you love me, Kiddie dearest. I call you Kiddie which no one else does. Can I call you Wifie one day too?’

I feel I want to step in and warn Agnes that this is all a bit strong but no need,  I’ll just hold her coat.

          ‘Dear Harry,

I have always thought of you as a loyal and staunch comrade and pal and have enjoyed the hours we have spent together. At the same time, I have never for one moment imagined we were anything but friends. Frankly Harry I do not love you. I have never once thought of you and marriage and its responsibilities seriously.’

Oomph, poor Harry. I bet she didn’t have a pet name for him.

Then Harry goes off abroad to lick his wounds and colonise some Empire country, but he tries our Agnes again.

          ‘My dear Agnes,

          You can have no idea how lonely I feel, and I honestly don’t know what I should do if I could not at any moment take out your lovely photo from my wallet and look upon your sweet face.

I am pleased to tell you that things are going really well with me. The terrible depression in business seems to be passing and I am in a much better position.’

He goes on quite a bit here, so I’ll spare you and skip to the punch line.

          ‘Will you let me come and fetch you one day in the near future and bring you here – as my wife? The very fact that we are parted by distance makes me realise all the more how much I love you and if we were together I would be the happiest man on earth.’

Alas, our Agnes is holding firm.

‘Harry,

I have kept up correspondence with you because I felt you were lonely so far away from your friends… however it comes as quite a shock to me that you should think of me in any other light but as a girl friend.

I have no love for you…love of that sort has never entered my life. I cannot even believe that you could teach me to love you.

I will always make a point of calling on your mother and writing to you just as I have done… please be kind and do not bring up the question of marriage again.’

I love that she’s still going to check up on his mum – not sure I would be so inclined.

And it seems that everything was sorted but no, our next letter from Agnes paints a darker end to our sorry tale.

          ‘Dear Mr Slack, (no more dear Harry)

          It has been very obvious, not only to myself but also to my friends that you have lately gone out of your way to meet me as I travel between the office and home and on other occasions and I am writing to say quite briefly but very firmly that these attentions are distasteful to me.

I should have thought that your own common sense would tell you at no time have I offered you the slightest encouragement and you should accept this letter and an actual request that you should leave me to my own devices in future.

Yours Faithfull

Agnes Twiggs.

Thankfully Harry vanishes from the picture, perhaps returning to the Tropics. All future examples of Agnes’s correspondence being addressed to Will.

Of course, there are Letters where Agnes accepts Harry, but where’s the fun in that.

What’s fascinating in these proforma letters is that Harry only ever really talks about his happiness, not hers, expecting her to drop her life and go be his ‘wifie.’  A social history of gendered relationships mixed in with recipes for Spotted Dick and beauty tips.

I love that these letters were offering women real, practical advice and agency, encouraging them not to settle for just any old Harry.

Happy Valentines.