Two Autograph Letters from the historian Thomas Lionel Hodgkin, one (signed 'Thomas') to the poet Sylvia Lynd, the other (unsigned) to her daughter Sigle Lynd, both written in the most effusive terms.

Both items in very good condition, on lightly-aged paper. Both letters are written in an excited, gushing style, and have the margins filled with extra text. Letter to Sylvia Lynd: 2pp., 4to. Addressed to 'Dear Mrs Lynd'. He conveys at great length his 'immense gratitude' at her 'hospitality': 'I have never really told you what very great happiness this succession of glorious meals has given me - This visit to London was splendid and neither Sweet-Escott nor the Kind Cabmennor my Kinder Aunt in Saint John's Wood are really at all the hosts whom I want to thank for it - But you.' He thanks her for 'Rock', which he is sure 'is best', and makes a couple of references to a recent rugby match ('my right shoulder aching [...] where a nasty heavy forward wilfully kicked it when no one was looking and the scrum had fallen down yesterday afternoon - A beautiful game and I kept swallowing mud and getting it into my eyes'). He urges her and her family to 'come to Bamburgh'. Letter to Sigle Lynd (who studied chemistry and biology at Somerville, 1929-1930, leaving after four terms as she was 'too busy dancing'): 2pp., 12mo. With envelope docketed by Sigle Lynd: 'Lovely enthusiasm from T. It increases my regret even more.' The letter begins with a flight of fancy: 'As for the Byron and the poem I gave them to your charming maid who told me she remembered me and my name was Mr Barry wasn't it? I said it wasn't - But it has occurred to me that she may have meant Barrie, and not believing my denial she has probably stolen the MS and has been hawking it round to low Publishers hoping (by persuading them that as Barrie writes few poems this must be a rarity) to get a vast price for it. It will be fun if they bring out a pirated edition for it - But I'm afraid if they compare handwriting and style they may see through it - and she will get nothing poor creature.' He is sending her 'the Poets Progress because I met the young man who wrote it [Walter D'Arcy Cresswell (1896-1960)] - he's miserably poor and charming - and it's an excellent book - prose rather like Bridges and exciting metaphysical ideas - so your copy (if I remember to get it) will bring him one and threepence or so which he badly needs'. The letter contains another invitation to Bamburgh: 'Remember that I shall be working at least six hours a day and you will be able to do that and more if you like to miss dirty games like lobstering'. From the Lynd family papers.