Letter to the Honourable Mary Palk

Many years ago I bought a second hand book called 'Easy lessons in Einstein' in a junk shop. I didn't keep the book long but I have kept what fell out of it when I opened it; a letter in an envelope.

The letter covers both sides of flimsy paper about A5 size. The sender who signs herself as 'yr own Baby Lamb', lived at 56 Newbridge Hill Bath and the recipient, the Hon Mary Palk, lived at 36 Belvedere Bath.

The envelope is addressed to 'The Hon Mary Palk, c/o J.Eddy Esq, 36 Belvedere, Bath and is postmarked 4 Aug (illegible) 9PM. As it has a George the Fifth (1910 - 1936) stamp this means that it must either have been 1922 or 1933, the only two years when 4th August was on a Friday.

Anyway, here is the text of it with the lines divided up as in the letter with pictures of the actual letter followed by my thoughts on it. If you read the last paragraph you'll see that is not a 'run of the mill' letter.

SIDE 1

56 Newbridge Hill

Friday
Mary darling - your letter & Gran’s
arrived at tea time. Hers I hope is hopeful
but it is really only an acknowledgement
not a real answer yet. She says she is writing
again. But it is certainly a comforting letter.
I am not writing though till after I have
seen you tomorrow morning in case you haven’t
had time to tell her about our trip. In
mentioning it to her in my letter shall i say
you took me for a saving straw when sinking
in the sea of Eddy boredom, or what? Can
you write me directions to be handed to me
(inserted between lines ‘as I want to write in the afternoon’)
when I turn up tomorrow morning. Also
am I right in concluding that the Paddington
Hotel does not demand an evening frock of
any sort. Am wearing coat & skirt & putting
in cotton frock in case of a hot stuffy day
as I think it is here!

SIDE 2

I am going to make Brice bring me along
tomorrow morning in his side car at about
10.45 I should say, so he can keep our (Mr?) Eddy
engaged if you wanted to say anything special.
I shall announce that I am going by the
6.22 & conclude that is of course your train
as it is the only reasonable after-tea one.
How has today been I wonder. I am so
glad that you went to Candida., It saved you
from a long tete a tete evening together which
must be a nightmare. May your best
angel help you through tonight.
And then little Mary nice(?) mine - cut
every anchor & let us drift out into a
timeless placeless breathing space, & really
enjoy ourselves, & may my good angel
keep me from any shortsighted complaining
when the breathing space is over, & all the
actual limitations come down like a shutter &
one’s timeless self has to retire into its cell once
more. Goodnight & good luck sweetest Mary yr own Baby Lamb

The envelope that contained the letter.

Mary Evelyn Palk was born at Princes Gardens in London on 28 October 1875, and died 1 February 1966. This would make her 57 in 1933 or 46 in 1922. She was the daughter of Lawrence Hesketh Palk, 2nd Baron Haldon and Hon. Constance Barrington. She had two brothers and one sister who were:
Lawrence William Palk, 3rd Baron Haldon b. 13 Jul 1869, d. 12 Jan 1933
Hon. Lawrence Charles Walter Palk b. 28 Sep 1870, d. 1 Jul 1916
Hon. Florence Annette Georgina Palk b. 21 Oct 1871, d. 22 Apr 1958

Her father died in 1903 and her brother Lawrence William became the third baron Haldon. He died 12 Jan 1933 having married Lidiana Amalia Creszencia Maiche and produced the 4th baron who died in 1938. Haldon House in Devon was the home of the Palks who lived there until late in the 19th century. By mid 20th cent most of house had been demolished. What remains is now a hotel.

In 1939 Mary was living at Eastry in Kent (1939 Register) with Edwina Larkins both ladies marked as being of independent means. Edwina Larkins was listed as a widow and Mary a spinster. Edwina died in 1956 at 'The Mariner's Hut' in the village of St Nicholas-at-Wade where she had ben born in 1866, about 20 miles from Eastry which I guess is where Mary also lived.

This is the sequence of events from the letter; (Baby Lamb is the letter writer):

Thursday probably, Gran and Mary write to Baby Lamb as this is mentioned in the first line of the letter. These letters arrive at teatime on Friday
Friday evening, Baby Lamb writes to Mary - this letter. She wrote some time in the evening of Friday, after teatime and before 9pm, the time of the postmark.
Saturday morning 10.45. Baby Lamb makes Brice take her round to Mary at Mr Eddy’s house in his sidecar - about two miles away.
Saturday late morning or afternoon, Baby Lamb writes to Gran again -’I am not writing though till after I have seen you tomorrow morning’, or ‘as I want to write in the afternoon’.
Saturday evening, train leaves Bath at 6.22 with Baby Lamb and Mary on board and arrives at Paddington at 8.45.

Some questions:

Why is Mary having to live with Mr (and Mrs?) Eddy especially if the year is 1933 and Mary is 58?

Is she broke and having to live with whoever will take her in? But if this is the case how can she afford to stay in the Paddington Hotel?

Was the problem precipitated by the death of her brother the third baron in January 1933?

Why do Baby Lamb and Mary have to be so secret about travelling together on this trip to London?

How did Mary come be living near Canterbury (where I bought the book) when she died in 1966 ? (The death is actually registered in Thanet)

Why did she keep the book for so long? Had she been given it?.

Was she reading it one day when someone came in and she had to hide the letter in the book?

Why did she keep the letter? Why did she keep the envelope as well as the letter?

Why was Baby Lamb writing on both sides of one sheet of very flimsy paper when two sheets would have been better? Writing paper isn't that expensive.

What became of Baby Lamb?

Who's grandmother is 'Gran'?

What are we to make of addressing someone as 'Sweetest Mary' and 'Darling Mary' and calling herself 'yr own Baby Lamb'?

The questions just keep coming. What awful situation was going to continue when they got back from London? Were Brice and Mr Eddy perhaps really in the know? Did they perhaps suspect or maybe even know that something odd, whatever it was, was going on?

The moral of all this is to always buy books in charity and secondhand shops, you never know what you might come across.