Florence Nightingale
Nightingale supports soldiers in 1878 A good autograph letter signed ‘Florence Nightingale’, September 3th 1878. A letter in support of a charitable cause; in part: ‘I send with the very greatest interest my poor little promised £10 for your blessed Soldier’s Institute at Portsmouth. I picture to myself your comfortable rooms & refreshments for soul & body, & I wish you ‘God speed’ from the bottom of my heart. I picture to myself your coffee-shed at the Dock-yard, rejoicing the poor families who disembark, & the decent lodgings taken for them, & I bless God for your great work.’ She adds a lengthy postscript on an adjoining page, requesting anonymity, initialed ‘F.L.’; in part: ‘Will you excuse my declining to be “Patroness” as you kindly desire, to your Bazaar in November? It is not that my whole heart is not with you, as I hope you know but I have so many invitations to ‘patronizing’ that I am compelled to make it a rule not to give me poor name where I cannot give my work.’ In fine condition, with some light creasing.
Bela Bartok
‘I collected many songs from the washerwomen’ — Bartók, on a 1918 trip seeking Romanian folk music A fine four-page autograph letter signed (‘Bartók Béla’) to his friend János Busitia, Rákoskeresztúr, 14 September 1918. In Hungarian. Together with the original envelope, hand-addressed by the composer. Bartók opens, ‘I have been most remiss at not giving any signs of life until now. I wanted to wait for the Romanian Dances [of which Busitia was the dedicatee], so that I could send them to you, but in vain, because they have still not arrived.’ He adds that he has been ebusy but also ‘inordinately lazy in writing letters (a fault confessed is half redressed)’. He then recounts his journey back from a visit in company with a Frenchwoman, which was pleasant ‘inasmuch as I could converse in French, until it tired me out. To hear French spoken well is a pleasure in itself, whatever the subject of conversation. As for the woman herself, she was a treacherous snake: she knew my wife and family well and had even seen my son on several occasions, but – for who knows what reason – kept all this a secret until the end of our journey. Don’t trust women!’ The composer then recounts a stay with his patron, Baron Kohner, where everything was organised in the highest style, which he describes as ‘aristocratic pomp’: ‘The way these people enjoy their affluence almost makes you forget to be enraged by the inequity of wealth. Guests came and went as if it was a hotel We talked about all kinds of things: music, literature, the Jewish question, religion, the Bolshevik movement, agriculture, trade, etc etc The Baron went hunting every afternoon, and came home with a bag of 25-30 partridges every day I of course spent most of the time in the laundry: I collected many songs from the washerwomen and in the meantime observed the ironing of various lace petticoats, shirts and trousers. I established that even their underwear is of the first quality. One evening, barefoot harvester girls came to the front of the house, by ancient custom, to say farewell and dance.’ Bartók’s Romanian friend János Busitia (1876-1953) helped him in collecting Romanian folk songs, and was the dedicatee of the Romanian Folkdances (1915). Baron Adolf Kohner Szaszberek (1866-1937) was a wealthy Hungarian Jewish businessman, landowner and collector: he offered Bartók significant financial support, including an annual stipend. Published in Letters ed. J. Demeny, no. 139.
Franklin D. Roosevelt
Roosevelt acquiesces to the threat of Nazism in 1938 A fantastic typed letter signed by Roosevelt president, two pages, adjoining sheets, February 10th 1938. A letter from Roosevelt to Colonel Arthur Murray, in full: ‘I begin to think that events in this world move with a velocity which increases with every passing year. Even since your letter, written on January twenty-fourth, so many new things have happened that you are completely out of date! Another crisis in Germany, but it does prove your rightness making unkind remarks about some people who see in Nazi-ism ideals of peace and good-will.’ ‘I am getting on better with some of your people—for they are really showing signs of wanting to meet me part of the way—perhaps not fifty percent yet! I, too, am pursued by catch-cries in this country, and I am in the midst of a long process of education—and the process seems to be working slowly but surely. It is grand news that you and Faith can really come over this Autumn. Give her thanks for that lovely view from An Cala—which some day I must see.’ ‘My present plan — if peace remains and if Congress goes home in June — is to stay in these parts until after my boy John’s wedding and the visit of the Crown Prince and Princess of Sweden, about July first, and then take a trip on a cruiser for a month, either in the Pacific of South Atlantic. This means that from the middle of August I shall be up off and on at Hyde Park until November, so if you can get here then — preferably between September fifteenth and November first — it would be perfect. As you know, the really hot weather will be over by the middle of September.” In fine condition, with rusty staple holes to the upper left corner. Accompanied by two typed replies from Arthur Murray (retained copies that Murray has also signed). The earlier two-page letter from February 20th 1938, in part: ‘The “velocity” (to which you refer in your letter of Feb. 10), with which world events move, is increasing almost hourly! All the more reason that our statesmen here should take long views on the European situation, or they will never catch up—much less keep pace with—the changes that confront them as the days pass. But after all there was no reason why they should have been surprised at the latest turn of events, unless indeed they did not believe—as some of us have always believed — that Hitler’s eyes had a fixed stare in an easterly and south easterly direction, and that nothing would divert him from his objective.’ The later four-page letter from March 26th 1938, in part: ‘It may be well that the chickens which have been wandering through the tangled jungle of mistaken policies are now coming home to roost. Failure to read aright from the beginning the ambitions and aspirations of the Nazi regierung — of which failure, I trust, I am absolved by the tenor of my letters to you during the past year! — have caused the situation with which we stand confronted to-day to be infinitely more complex than it might otherwise have been In the course of our daily tasks in life there is often set before us—with no other alternatives—a choice of evils. So far as the problem of Italy is concerned, I conceive the greater evil to be that as Germany grew stronger Italy, if left completely within her orbit, would inevitably become an obedient tentacle of the German octopus, and that a German “bloc” from the Baltic to the Baltic to the Mediterranean (and possibly to the Bosphorus and the Black Sea) with all its probabilities of a world-hegemony-seeking conflict, would become an accomplished fact.’ In 1917, Arthur C. Murray was appointed as the Assistant Military Attaché to the British Embassy in Washington, D.C. There, he met Franklin D. Roosevelt, who at that time was Assistant Secretary of the Navy in Woodrow Wilson’s Democratic Administration. The two men struck up a close friendship that continued on and off until Roosevelt’s death in 1945. Throughout the 1930s and the Second World Wa
Edvard Grieg
'The winter in England is quite harsh and cold, you can get cold feet even if your heart is warm.’ A fine, closely-written three-page autograph letter signed by Edvard Grieg. Dated 13th August 1898, the composer writes to a Mr. William in German, opening, ‘I was looking forward to being able to send you a very nice cake for your wedding. But it wasn’t supposed to be, because unfortunately I got the message much too late. You had long since become a happy husband.’ He goes on, ‘Well, I wish you and your wife the very best of luck from the bottom of my heart. Hopefully you were favoured by nice weather so that you could enjoy the period after your wedding in beautiful Switzerland. I think that after the wedding, once you have returned home, there will be a lot of love and warmth in your home.’ ‘However, the winter in England is quite harsh and cold, you can get cold feet even if your heart is warm. In such a case, I recommend the Norwegian wolfskin, which I’ve taken the liberty of sending at the same time as this letter. I take the opportunity to express my heartfelt thanks for the Stilton. It is indeed marvellous. We rejoice daily at the genuine English taste, and think of the amiable donor whom I wish to see again someday. Be well, dear friend, and send my warmest greetings to your young wife. Yours gratefully, Edvard Grieg.’ In very fine condition.
Pablo Picasso
Picasso signs a portrait, incorporating a sketch of a dove! An excellent vintage signed 3″ x 4.5″ (7 x 11.5 cm) photograph by Picasso, incorporating an original drawing. The image depicts the artist in a full-length pose, wearing a pair of white shorts and sandals, standing second in-line alongside two unidentified ladies and a gentleman, and, at the back of the line is Picasso’s eldest child, Paulo Picasso. The five appear to be standing on a small outdoor stage in what appears to be a restaurant, with a number of empty tables and chairs in the background. Signed ‘Picasso’ in blue fountain pen ink with his surname only at the base of the image. To a clear area at the head of the image Picasso has added a charming, small ink drawing of a dove in flight. Extremely rare and desirable in this format. In fine condition, with some very light surface creasing and minor age wear. For Picasso the dove was both an important political symbol and a personal one, and in 1949 he created the lithograph Dove (La Colombe) in an edition of 50 and 5 artist’s proofs. The image, of a white dove on a black background, is widely considered to be a symbol of peace and was used to illustrate a poster at the 1949 Paris Peace Congress. The photograph is accompanied by a Picasso Authentication certificate issued and signed by Claude Ruiz-Picasso dated at Geneva, 25th April 2022.
Sigmund Freud
Magnificent signed portrait by Freud, dated 1936 An exceptional vintage matte-finish 6.5″ x 9″ photo of the pioneering psychoanalyst in a near-profile pose, affixed to its original 9″ x 12″ mount, signed on the mount in fountain pen, ‘Sigm. Freud, 1936’. In fine condition, with the partially detached photo easily reattached, and staining the bottom edge of the mount easily matted out. Extremely rare and desirable in this format. This photograph was presented to Dr. Joseph Jules Michaels by Anna Freud, Sigmund’s sixth and youngest child. Dr. Michaels was a professor of Psychiatry and Psychoanalysis at Harvard University from 1936 until his death in 1966. His extensive research dealt in the causes of delinquency and impulse character disorders. He was the author of more than 90 articles and books in the field. Beginning in 1933, he trained at the Vienna Psychoanalytic Institute as a Commonwealth Fund Fellow. During WWII, as a major in the Medical Corps, he was chief of neuropsychiatric service at the Newton D. Baker Hospital, later receiving the Legion of Merit. Anna Freud gifted this photo to Michaels in Vienna as the two of them studied dream interpretation together.
Albert Einstein
On the precipice of international fame in 1919, Einstein writes to a fellow future Nobel laureate on radioactive theory A highly desirable typed letter in French, signed ‘A. Einstein’, one page, 8.25″ x 11″, November 5th 1919. Letter to Professor Jean Baptiste Perrin, who would go on to win the Nobel Prize for Physics in 1926 for his work on the atomic structure of matter. In part (translated): ‘Your opinion of the primary importance of radiation for all chemical reactions still seems to me dubious, even if it was certain (which it was not) that reactions of the type J² – J+J [added by hand] are of the first order. It would be possible, for example, that J² molecules whose internal energy exceeds a certain limit would decompose in accordance with radioactive bodies.’ Einstein continued, ‘Now a prayer. One of the parents of one of my cousins—a geologist—is a prisoner of war in France. His (widowed) mother, having lost her other son in the war, is in the greatest pain of her only son, because he had tried to flee several times. She shudders at the thought that the man—through his old efforts to flee in a very difficult situation—might try to flee again and be shot. Wouldn’t it be possible to do something for this young scientist?’ He goes on to give the address of August Moos, held in Charleville, Ardennes, and concludes by offering his ‘regards for you, Mr. Langevin and Mrs. Curie’. Below, he curiously draws an arrow and writes, ‘bead of editorial sweat’ — might Einstein’s DNA be lurking on this page? In fine condition. A distant cousin of Albert Einstein, the geologist August Moos volunteered in the German infantry at the start of the First World War in 1914. After being taken prisoner in 1915, he made several attempts to escape which resulted in a sentence that prevented his release after the armistice of 1918. His mother asked for help from Einstein, who turned to his friend Jean Perrin, as well as mathematician and statesman Paul Painlevé, asking them to intercede. Moos was finally released in February 1920. He would work as an oil geologist in the interwar period, before being tragically arrested due to his Jewish heritage under the Nazi regime. Moos would die in the Buchenwald concentration camp during World War II. In addition to this important family and political content, Einstein comments on a theory that Perrin had developed in which all chemical transformations (including radioactive decay) are triggered by radiation, calling it ‘dubious’. Also significant is the date: one day before the official report of Eddington’s expedition debuted before the Royal Society of London, confirming Einstein’s theory of general relativity. Widespread newspaper coverage of the results vaulted Einstein into immediate international fame. An altogether remarkable letter from one Nobel Prize winner to another.
Carl Jung
Jung analyzes the dream of a colleague, submitting it as one of his ‘telepathic attacks’ A typed letter signed, ‘Jung’ one page, personal letterhead, June 1st 1931. Letter to his colleague, Dr. Wolfgang M. Kranefeldt, in full (translated): ‘Many thanks for sending the references. It’s better it should be too long than too short. Cimbal can still use the scissors as he pleases. It is strange that you should dream of Schmitz [likely the German writer Oskar A. H. Schmitz], but you sometimes have telepathic attacks, which is obviously to be expected. In addition, however, one naturally had to ask oneself what you have in common with Schmitz that makes him appear so clearly in your unconscious field of vision. I don’t even know how you feel about Schmitz. But it would not be impossible that he could be a somewhat exaggerated example in terms of writing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad in practice if you could add about 1/10th Schmitz to your mix. I am enclosing a copy of my lecture, if you want to send it back to me when you have read it. The lecture will appear soon in the European Review. With best regards always.’ In fine condition. Believing that dreams reveal more than they conceal, Jung’s dream theory was a product of an evolving process throughout his whole intellectual and professional life. His original contributions to the interpretation of dreams are multiple, encompassing compensation theory, symbolism, direct image association, the archetypal unconscious, individuation, two-mind confrontation, and the analysis of dreams on both subject and object levels. As quoted from his influential Red Book, Jung writes: ‘Dreams are the guiding words of the soul. Why should I henceforth not love my dreams and not make their riddling images into objects of my daily consideration?’ A significant, highly desirable letter from Jung, who attempts to analyze the dream of a fellow psychotherapist. Kranefeldt was a German psychiatrist, psychotherapist, and National Socialist (1892–1950) who was closely associated with Carl Jung. He was active in the AAGP and IAAGP in the 1930s and in 1936 joined the faculty of the Göring Institute in Berlin. He was regarded as Jung’s ‘leading pupil in Germany. In 1934, Kranefeldt published the book Secret Ways of the Mind: A Survey of the Psychological Principles of Freud, Adler, and Jung. The work features an introduction by Jung, which to this day offers great into his reassessment of psychoanalysis.
Josephine Baker
A group of seven autograph letters signed, mainly ‘Josephine Baker’, one unsigned (although with a small illustration in her hand), each to the versos of picture postcards from various places (Spain, Austria, Norway, Brazil, Argentina), circa 1920s, all to the manager of L’Auberge du Pere Louis restaurant in Paris, in French. Baker writes a series of social letters to her correspondent, hoping that he is in good health, that she is thinking of him even though she is far away, sending her good wishes for Easter, Christmas and the New Year, remarking that Valencia is beautiful but she has not found a hostel as good as his, etc. On one postcard Baker has drawn a simple caricature of herself (‘moi’) seemingly crying a pool of tears as a chicken flies away from her. Five of the postcards are also signed by ‘Count’ Giuseppe Pepito Abatino, most with additional notes in his hand. An unusual group of correspondence dating from one of Baker’s earliest tours, having established herself as the most successful American entertainer working in France. Four of the cards are in generally fine condition, with some age-toning, one is age-toned with some edge damage, and two cards are more heavily toned with edge damage (one has a corner missing and a tear through the address). ‘Count’ Giuseppe Pepito Abatino (1898-1936) Italian manager of Josephine Baker, who also became her lover, and was responsible for transforming Baker’s stage and public persona, as well as her singing voice.
The Beatles
The Beatles sign at their final show of their 1963 autumn Tour A vintage off-white 5.25″ x 4″ album page signed boldly by all four Beatles — George Harrison and John Lennon in blue ballpoint, Paul McCartney in black ink, and Ringo Starr in red ballpoint. In fine condition, with slight creasing, tape stains to the edges, a tiny tear to the bottom edge, and old mounting remnants on the back. Accompanied by a ticket stub for a Beatles concert at the Gaumont Theatre in Southampton, on December 13th 1963, as well as by a letter of provenance from the original recipient. A superb example. The Beatles’ lengthy 1963 Autumn Tour of the UK and Ireland finally came to an end on December 13th; the concert was the 34th date of the tour, which had started in Cheltenham on November 1st. For the entirety of the tour the band performed a set featuring the same 10 songs: I Saw Her Standing There, From Me To You, All My Loving, You Really Got A Hold On Me, Roll Over Beethoven, Boys, Till There Was You, She Loves You, Money (That’s What I Want) and Twist And Shout.
Alexander Graham Bell
A fascinating archive of eight letters relating to Visible Speech A unique archive of eight autograph letters signed by Alexander Graham Bell, including four standard letters (totalling seven pages) plus four postcards, dating from 1872 to circa 1874, all to Prof. Abel S. Clarke at the American Asylum in Hartford, now known as the American School for the Deaf. Bell writes regarding ‘Visible Speech’ and the Visible Speech Pioneer, a periodical circulated to schools and institutions to promote his father’s ‘visible speech’ system. Two of the letters are written and signed using visible speech symbols — a novel and appealing rarity — the only such Graham Bell autographs we have ever encountered — and one remains untranslated. All four letters include their original mailing envelopes, addressed in Bell’s hand, and all of the postcards are addressed to Clarke by Bell on the reverse. The postcard, written in well-defined visible speech symbols, reads (translated): ‘Dear Mister Clarke, I trust you have received the first number of the Pioneer safely. Please do not send it off till you hear from me. Kind regards, A. Graham Bell.’ The second, in full: ‘Please forward Pioneer No. 3 to Illinois. The thirteenth draws near. I hope to bring some totally new ideas before the Convention. I trust that Hartford may be able to give us some hints. Yrs. Respectfully, A. Graham Bell.’ The third postcard, in part: ‘My dear Sir, I am extremely sorry that you may be unable to attend – and hope that Miss Sweet may. I have been rather disappointed about the arrangements as I had expected that Miss Rogers, as one of the Committee of Management, would have requested room &c as she did before. However, finding that she expected me to do this I have just secured the hall & made arrangements. I do hope you may be able to come. A G. Bell.’ The fourth postcard, in full: ‘Visible speech Pioneer No. III will reach you probably on Monday. Please retain Pioneer No. II until you hear from me, as I fear the First Number has gone astray. I have not received any acknowledgment from Illinois. Yrs respectfully, A. Graham Bell.’ The first letter, dated December 18th 1872, is written in a cursive variant of ‘visible speech’ and is untranslated. The original mailing envelope is affixed to the reverse. The second, dated January 16th 1874, in part: ‘Miss Rogers has been making arrangements with the authorities of the Boston & Albany, & the Connecticut Riv. Railroads for tickets at reduced rates. If you can let her know how many will attend from Hartford—she could get tickets for you I know of ten who are going from Boston alone. Probably a similar number from Northampton. Probably Miss Jones will prepare a paper on new developments in teaching articulation by V.S. I propose to read a paper on “Lip Reading, and the Education of Semi-mutes”. I shall also propose the establishment of a visible speech periodical, to be printed by means of the types at present at our disposal—if a sufficient number of copies will be taken up by the institutions.’ The third, dated January 19th 1874, in full: ‘The Convention will be held in the High School Buildings. The meeting will commence at 10 o’clock, and terminate at 4 o’clock p.m. Recess for a short time about noon when we can all sally out in search of refreshment. You and Miss Sweet, and the Northampton teachers can leave by the 4:25 p.m. train. All the Boston Papers of Saturday have noticed the Convention. Prof. Monroe will give us a few hints on Physical Training and Prof. Treat will explain the Anatomy of the Larynx, illustrating with models—and give us the latest researches concerning the voice. F. Allen, who was instrumental in introducing Vis. Sp. into America, will make an address. I think it also not unlikely that J. W. Philbrick, Superintendent of the Boston Public Schools, and one of the American Commissioners to the Vienna Exposition, will attend and tell us something about Articulation Teaching abroad.
Edward Lear
‘I shall go South, like the swollers’ A fine three-page autograph letter signed by Edward Lear, 31st July 1877, incorporating nonsense spellings and a humorous self-caricature showing the author flying ‘South, like the swollers.’ Lear writes to his close friend Lady Frances Waldegrave in brown fountain-pen ink. In full, ‘I shall trouble you with this gnoat because the changes are that I shall not see you again before I go out of England – if (as I hope you may) you will make a northerly tour to Whitby, Filey, Bridlington, Scarborough. And for myself, I have to remain with my nose at the grindstone to finish, one of two large Northbrook pictures, so as to take it down to Stratten with as little delay as possible. After witch is another visit to my sister. I shall go South, like the swollers. [Adds humorous drawing of himself as a bird!] So, I wish you goodbye, with many good wishes for a pleasant Autumn, and many thanks for much kindness. Both you and Chichester have always been very kind to me. But, unless you both come to Italy, I fear it will be a long time before I see you again, if at all. Believe me, Yours sincerely, Edward Lear.’ In very fine condition. Extremely desirable in this format.
