[The man T. S. Eliot called ‘a great editor’: Sir Bruce Richmond, editor of the Times Literary Supplement.] Two Autograph Letters Signed to Orlo Williams, one a moving tribute to him and review of the TLS on his ninetieth birthday.

Two charming and moving letters, each sent on a significant occasion: the first Richmond’s resignation from the editorship of the TLS in 1937, and the second his ninetieth birthday in 1961; and with the latter containing interesting reminiscences of the early years of the TLS. See his appreciative entry in the Oxford DNB. Both items in good condition, lightly aged, and both addressed to ‘Dear Orlo’. ONE: 3 January [‘1937’, the year added by Williams]. Signed ‘Bruce L. Richmond.’ 2pp, landscape 12mo. Folded twice. Begins: ‘Dear Orlo, / One of my first pleasures as a man of leisure must be to send you a line of my warmest thanks for the immense help you have generously given to the Supplement. I can’t thank you adequately. Thirty years is a long term debt! But as the debt grows in size gratitude grows in strength - and the Supplement is very grateful.’ Postscript: ‘I hope you will come & see us here when days are longer and ways less misty?’ TWO: [27 January 1961.] Dated by Williams with autograph note: ‘In answer to my letter on his 90th birthday.’ 4pp, 4to. Begins: ‘Dear Orlo, / At last it is over! Over 80 short and more than kindly notes have been answered, and I can turn to thank you for your heart-warming letter’. He has been ‘looking back into the Supplement for a fortnight - for five principal contributors were all represented in the correspondence. You and D. L. Murray in the flesh, John Bailey by a daughter, Clutton Brook by a son, and Harold Child (by an elder brother aged 94!)’ Interesting reminiscences follow: ‘The first article in the first number was by Birrell - how it came about I have forgotten - for he never wrote again. Mention of the first number leads me to wonder whether anybody nowadays wouldn’t be a little surprised if he saw a copy of the first number to read the announcement that “During the ensuing Parliamentary session” [‘Feb 1902’ added in red ink] a supplement will be published - So we started off - and, as the session drew to an end, I wondered what would happen, as I sat night after night in Buckle’s room waiting for him to say something. Mercifully, at the critical moment the German Emperor did something with a cruiser that he ought not to have done (?Tangier?) which so excited the world, including Buckle and Moberly Bell that they forgot to stop it - That gave us the next Session - and by the autumn we were considered to have justified ourselves - and so we have run on ever since - not without some crises - but with no life-and-death crisis till that of 1922 - Considered now, it’s an odd start - And, if you knew it all before, I’ve wasted half a page.’ He now turns ‘more profitably’ to Williams, stating that he and his wife have ‘deeply sympathized’ with his loneliness, and expressing pleasure that his daughter is now home. He asks if ‘in Kenya you come across a remarkable Fisher cousin of mine’, whose teaching career he describes. ‘We both seem to be adapting ourselves to the necessary disabilities - But I have to hobble on two sticks and can only with difficulty step up into a car’. He describes the travel to which his immobility has led by ‘an odd contradiction’. In the following month he may go out ‘by air to Cairo to a diplomat nephew. Probably rash.’ He envies Williams his piano; he ‘strummed away with enjoyment (the easier Preludes and a very occasional fugue) till about eight months ago - Now two Oxford oculists have failed to give me glasses with which I can clearly see any but the bottom line. This blots out all discovery.’ The letter now reaches a moving conclusion: ‘I wish we could meet again - I wish we could go again robed to Encaenia - I wish I could thank you adequately for years of friendship - / Yrs / Bruce L. R.’