November 2020 – Rickaro Books

If you wish to read arguably the very best novel of World War I, then look no further than Frederic Manning (1882-1935) and the two versions of his magnum opus.

Born in Australia, writer Frederic Manning moved to England as a young man, firstly in 1898. He moved in literary and artistic circles and wrote his first two books with classical allusions, “The Vigil of Brunhild” (1906) and “Scenes and Portraits” (1909). He enlisted during 1915 into the Shropshire Light Infantry, serving in France during 1916 as ‘Private 19022’ and it was here that he found material for the background to his classic novel which has given him enduring fame. Originally published anonymously by Peter Davies in 1929 under the imprint of Piazza Press, as two handsome volumes, “Middle Parts of Fortune”, this is a numbered edition of only 520 copies. It was then published in a trade edition by Peter Davies in a bowdlerized, single volume version, “Her Privates We” in 1930. The titles of both being derived from the quotation from Shakespeare. The work was praised by such notable figures as Ernest Hemingway and T. E. Lawrence who said of it: “No praise could be too sheer for this book…So loving, exact, delightful, inwardly and outwardly true, so generous, politically and morally and militarily…how admirable are its restraint, and humour, and vividness, the lovely weather, the lights and darknesses – there are too many sides to the book for it ever to be forgotten… anyone would be proud to have written it. It justifies every heat of praise. Its virtues will be recognised more and more as time goes on.”

The two volume “Middle Parts of Fortune” is indeed a handsome set, a delight to hold in the hand, modestly bound in cloth with marbled endpapers and a two-colour title page. A copy of this edition was in TE’s Clouds Hill Library and is listed in the catalogue printed in “T.E. Lawrence by his Friends” (1937). Featured here is a presentation copy to Lorna Priscilla, Lady Trench-Gascoigne (nee Leatham) with a delightful inscription from Manning adding his regimental number and the words mentem mortalia tangent from Virgil’s Aeneid.

This title and the slightly later “Her Privates We” were published anonymously just giving this regimental number, Private 19022, as a clue to authorship.

Lorna Priscilla Leatham had served as a VAD on the Western Front in WWI and it was there that possibly they may have first met, although there were other links, including one via Manning’s mentor Arthur Galton. Whatever the link here it is a fascinating association copy.

T.E. Lawrence was to contact the publisher Peter Davies by telephone having identified the author from his reading of “Scenes and Portraits” and the style of the writing in both works, as well as being provided with a clue by J.G. Wilson of Bumpus. Davies made a now elusive, promotional brochure of the content of the telephone conversation and the book subsequently enjoyed great critical and commercial success. Peter Davies issued “Her Privates We” in a striking, if macabre binding, oatmeal cloth with a skeleton looking over the shoulder of a private soldier. Both this and a later edition of “Scenes and Portraits” were issued by Peter Davies in what are now exceedingly scarce, fragile glassine wrappers with printed paper turn-ins.

So here we have a series of books linking a number of interesting personalities, It was in February of 1935 that TE retired from the RAF and left Bridlington on a bicycle intending to visit Manning with whom he had become friends, who was living at Bourne in Lincolnshire. However, Manning had died of a respiratory disease on the 22^nd February. Writing to Peter Davies, TE states; “On Tuesday I took my discharge from the R.A.F. and started southward by road, meaning to call at Bourne and see Manning: but today I turned eastward, instead, hearing that he was dead,” TE himself was to die in a motorcycle accident in May of the same year. The publisher, Peter Llewelyn Davies (1897-1960), had been identified by J.M. Barrie as the source for the famous character, Peter Pan in his 1904 play, providing him with an unlooked for immortality which he grew to dislike. He survived until 1960 when he was to throw himself under a tube train at Sloane Square Station.

So, the characters in our tale have all now departed the stage, however they leave behind these bright mementos of their presence, illuminating a time and providing both tactile and telling signs of their continued presence in our world.

There is little that brings us closer to a person and their character than a personal letter, displaying a characteristic hand and turn of phrase. This can be true of anyone we may know or be interested in and the pieces of paper may become treasured items.

T.E. Lawrence (1888-1935) wrote a great many letters to a wide variety of people, both ordinary and famous. We have previously considered the published collections of his correspondence, from the early David Garnett volume through to the forensic editions from the Castle Hill Press. A study of these letters can provide invaluable insight into the thoughts, character and activities of TE and are vital for anyone studying the life and times of this enigmatic historical figure.

It is a truth of anyone that their correspondence provides a window, as it were, to their innermost character. This is certainly true of TE and despite the many published volumes, very many letters remain unpublished and these provide further insight to the man behind the ‘legend’. As a bonus the seeking out of these letters can provide a frisson of pleasure in the search for new and original material.

The physical letters themselves are remarkable artefacts, redolent of their time, sometimes with the very envelopes in which they were posted and the ink occasionally remaining almost fresh on the page. Like first editions, autograph letters are a means of getting close to a person, almost, if of course not quite, being able to reach out and touch them.

“(incomplete copies have no future in the second-hand market)”

This tantalizing, brief extract is contained in a fascinating letter to the author and politician John Buchan of ’The 39 Steps’ fame and is dated 1.XII.26, that magical date written in TE’s hand in each and every one of the “complete” and “incomplete” copies of the 1926 “Seven Pillars”. This note was in fact written just upon completion of the 1926 edition and prior to his embarkation to India. Amongst other comments the letter refers to the gift for the Prime Minister, Stanley Baldwin, of one of the extremely rare “incomplete” 1926 “Seven Pillars” of which there were only 39 copies. As a financial forecaster of the future TE has not proved very reliable, as an “incomplete” copy has recently sold for just in excess of £35,000. It must be recalled that the only “incomplete” thing about these copies is the omission of a few of the plates. He also goes on to relate: “This is one of those which I am giving to the fellows who did the Arab Revolt with me.” Interestingly this is written on the reverse of a piece of 14 Barton Street notepaper, perhaps indicating where the letter was written.

“What a mercy Revolt is withdrawn”

This is a whale of a letter, two full A4 sides, dated 24.4.28 and written on thin paper from Drigh Road, Karachi, to his solicitor Edward Eliot. It is unpublished and largely unknown, covering several fascinating threads including the proposed and eventually abortive Korda film. It also discusses a rather surprising proposal for the construction of swimming baths using ‘Revolt’ money that had been donated to the RAF Benevolent Fund, this pool was to be “for married families and officers” and TE even details a rota for its use. At the end of the letter he states “(Indeed Revolt wasn’t a book at all. It was a sort of solvent of an overdraft: a financial instrument)”. The story of the survival and rediscovery of this now rather fragile document is a tale in itself. It was found in the drawer of a large, unloved mahogany sideboard at an open-air antique market. The drawer tipped out and three pieces of paper fluttered to the muddy ground, one an unrelated letter, an old French will and this splendid letter. They could have been trampled in the mud!

“I want it for the illustrations’ sake.”

This is taken from a letter written from Cattewater (soon to be Mount Batten) on 21.V.29 written to Mr Bain of the well-known booksellers James Bain. The author Horace Walpole wrote a Foreword for ‘Bain: a bookseller looks back’ and has a splendid reminiscence regarding TE; “It was in the left-hand corner near the door that I once had a never-to-be-forgotten conversation with T.E. Lawrence, robed like a shadow in airman’s uniform.”

In the letter TE requests several interesting books, possibly for his own use or possibly for loan to other airmen at Cattewater. The actual quotation above though relates to a title called “War Birds” in which there are attractive illustrations, although he admired the book thinking it “worthwhile”, writing to Frederic Manning in 1930 he states, “War Birds is not literature but a raw sharp life”.

“Flying, and the progress of flying, is a very great interest of mine….”

This tantalising statement is contained in a rather mysterious letter, dated 5.1.33 to an unknown recipient: “Dear Madam” who had offered a form of “refuge”. He ends by saying that “the last ten years in the Air Force have been wholly delightful.” TE does not need anything further.

“Pat is my next-door neighbour and he and I have gone into partnership (Knowles & Shaw, very LTD) to build our respective shacks”

So, for a final peek at this selection of correspondence we choose two closely dated letters addressed to Albert Yarwood, at his shipbuilding company in Northwich, Cheshire. They even remain in their postal envelopes addressed and sealed by TE. In the letters, Lawrence refers to progress on H.M.S. Auxiliary Aquarius, “I’ve had letters from Singapore about the Aquarius, which seems to have been adopted as a Station Pet! If she does half what they ask of her, she will be a wonder ship. The only criticism so far is that she is a bit hot, in the engine room. So I suppose the poor old chief is still sweating! He’ll qualify for a jockey in two or three years time.”; he also discusses a new design of flooring for his cottage, Clouds Hill, in Dorset, where Yarwood supplied materials.

This tiny fragment of correspondence from TE, I trust, indicates the intimate nature of such things and these brief extracts have two dominant tropes, his interest and love of books and the RAF. Possibly, along with his motorcycling the most satisfying threads of his multi-skeined life. His correspondence is indeed well worthy of exploration. So, remember when searching out letters, “anything can be anywhere”.