Barrie, Sir J.M.

barrie's last letter to george is probably the most tragic and poignant he ever wrote. Peter Davies later wrote in The Morgue that  "surely no soldier in France or Flanders ever had more moving words from home than those in this tragic, desperately apprehensive letter...I think it must be one of the great letters of the world". George was killed in the early hours of 15th March, as his battalion was advancing to drive the Germans out of St. Eloi. Lord Tennyson's son, Aubrey, wrote to Peter a few days later, supplying as much information as he knew, and commenting that "I do not stand alone in this battalion in my affection for George...I was told by an officer who has been in the battalion for some years that he had never known any officer come into the battalion, who after so short a time had won the love of everyone...As regards myself I don't think anyone can ever take his place, as there is no one whom I have ever loved more" (this letter is present in lot 289). For the Five boys, Peter later wrote that "this much is certain...when he died, some essential virtue went out of us as a family", the combination of the eldest sibling, George and the "infinitely generous...hopelessly unauthoritative J.M.B." having been broken "we became gradually...individuals with little of the invaluable, cohesive strength of the united family" (quoted by Birkin, p.246). As for Barrie himself, the effect on him was almost unimaginably dire, as Peter recorded:

...Oh, miserable Jimmie. Famous, rich, loved by a vast public, but at what a frightful private cost. Shaken to the core…by the death of Arthur; tortured a year or two later by the ordeal of his own divorce; then so soon afterwards prostrated, ravaged and utterly undone when Sylvia pursued Arthur to the grave; and after only four and a half years, George; George, whom he had loved with such a deep, strange, complicated, increasing love, and who as he knew well would have been such a pillar for him to lean on in the difficult job of guiding the destinies of Sylvia & Arthur Llewelyn Davies’s boys—“my boys” (quoted by Birkin, p.244)

Later, in March 1918, Barrie writes to the fourteen-year-old Nico telling him how much seeing him brightened up his day, his return journey going "as merry as a marriage bell"

To the eighteen-year-old Michael on 29 March 1918 he remarks on how lonely he is on bank-holidays, although rejoicing in the thought that he and Nico are almost on the way home ("...I got your dressing-table out [of Campden Hill] all right & have been trying various plans to make the rooms nice..."), discussing the forthcoming Red Cross Sale at Christie's ("...the...sale catalogue is just out & is a very interesting volume as you will see...We can go to Christie's & see the things before the 8th..."); also expressing his wish to see the manuscript of "the boys' musical" which Michael had reviewed ("would it be possible for you to get the loan of it?").  

this is the only surviving letter by barrie to michael llewelyn davies, the major model for peter pan: Michael, the "mysterious boy of the so open countenance...with the carelessness of genius", whose love for and complex friendship with Barrie amounted to adoration, and on whom Barrie based his ideal version of Peter, as recorded in his celebrated series of photographs of Michael, his eyes blazing with intense energy, taken in 1906 (see lot 290). When Michael went up to Eton in 1913, three years after the death of his  mother Sylvia, he was extremely homesick: "he missed [his nanny] Mary Hodgson; he missed Uncle Jim; most of all, he missed his mother". Barrie tried to ease his miserable loneliness by writing to him every day (instead of once a week as he had done with George). As Birkin records, "by the time  [Michael] came to leave Eton, there were over 2,000 letters between them. These letters survived until 1952, when Peter [Davies], overcome by depression himself, decided to burn them. `They were too much', he told Mary Hodgson..." (p.212). This one surviving letter is written a couple of months after the domestic imbroglio at Campden Hill, when Mary Hodgson clashed with Jack's new wife Geraldine (see Barrie's letter accepting Mary's resignation, lot 288), the result being that Michael and Nico were now to stay with Barrie at his flat in Adelphi Terrace during the school holidays.

ii) Five autograph letters signed by "Your affec., George", to J.M. Barrie ("Uncle Jim"), in pencil, 16 pages, 8vo, envelopes (with censor's stamps),  written from the Western Front, 22 January to 14 March 1915, two letters splitting at folds; together with a typed letter signed from the War Office about George's burial

These letters, written from behind the trenches, contain George's final communications with Barrie before he was killed on 15 March 1915. He describes his life and various incidents at the front, although clearly moderating his account and sounding positive to shield  Barrie from some of the realities of trench warfare.

[22 January 1915] ...The malady that laid me low has been successfully vanquished, & I am now a young bull once again, & ready for our next show...I don't think there's very much danger to expect, except from sickness...I take every care that can be taken, I can promise you...Whenever you see mention of their [Princess Patricia's battalion] exploits, you can be sure I've been having an extra quiet time... I suppose Uncle Guy is somewhere about by now...

[27 January 1915] ...That little old bit of shrapnel needn't have worried you...I...have never been better in my life...the Germans sent a lot of shrapnel over to our left. It makes a beastly noise -- a whistling scream & then a bang -- which I'm not hardened to yet. The sing of a bullet passing near doesn't move me very much now...On the whole then, my dear Uncle Jim, there's nothing for you to be anxious about. Of course, there's always the chance of stopping an unaimed bullet, but you can see it's a very small one. And I am far too timorous a man (I am a man now, I think) to run any more risk than I must...Are you rehearsing with Gaby yet?

[see above for Barrie's rehearsals with Gaby Deslys]

[7 March 1915] ...I've seen violent death within a yard of me. I was quite safe myself, Uncle Jim, as I was right down underneath the parapet. The poor chap wasn't one of my fellows, &  put his head up in a place where at that time he could scarcely fail to stop a bullet. The top of his head was shot off, so he didn't feel it. But it was a dreadful sight...

[10 March 1915] ...& now for a week's rest. Glorious!...

[[14 March 1915] ...I have just got your letter about Uncle Guy. You say it hasn't made you think any more about the danger I am in. But I know it has. Do try not to let it. I take every care of myself that can be decently taken. And if I am going to stop a bullet, why should it be with a vital place? But arguments aren't any good. Keep your heart up, Uncle Jim, & remember how good an experience like this is for a chap who's been very idle before...Lord, I shall be proud when I'm home again, & talking to you about all this...Poor Aunt Gwen. This war is a dreadful show...We go up to the trenches in a few days again...

This last letter by George is subscribed in Barrie's hand: "This is the last letter, and was written a few hours before his death. I knew he was killed before I got it."

[27 October 1915] Typed letter signed from the Military Secretary at the War Office, to Barrie, informing him that a report has been received from Army Head Quarters in the Field stating that "the late 2nd Lieutenant G.L. Davies, King's Royal Rifle Corps, was buried at Voormezeele on the left of the road from Krustraathoek on the entrance to the Village of Voormezeele..."

George had been killed on Monday March 15. By the Tuesday Barrie had received the news, and later that day telegrams arrived  from the King and Queen conveying their sympathies, together with other telegrams and letters of condolence as the news spread that one of Barrie's adopted boys had been killed. Soon afterwards George's last letter arrived (see Birkin, p.244).

a remarkably poignant series of letters from one of the models for peter pan, and the creator of the line "to die will be an awfully big adventure"  It had been the five year-old George with whom Barrie had had the conversations and games in Kensington Gardens in the years around the turn of the century which inspired the Peter Pan story, as Barrie himself recorded in the fictional version of their friendship, The Little White Bird: "First I tell [the story] to him, and then he tells it to me, the understanding being that it is quite a different story; and then I retell it with his additions, and so we go on until no one could say whether it is more his story or mine. In this story of Peter Pan, for instance, the bald narrative and most of the moral reflections are mine, though not all, for this boy can be a stern moralist…". It had also been George who, when Barrie told him the story of Peter Pan escorting the dead children (the "Lost Boys") to Never Never Land, had exclaimed "To die will be an awfully big adventure": a line of course immortalised when Barrie incorporated it into his play. The author dropped the line for the duration of the war, out of consideration for those who had lost loved ones in action: neither he, nor George, could have anticipated that life should follow art so painfully within the space of a few years.

iii) Twenty-two autograph letters signed by Nico, to J.M. Barrie ("James", "Mr Barrie", "Darling doodle Barrie", "Uncle Jim"), 57 pages, 4to and 8vo, envelopes, 3 February [1911] to 25 April [1924] (where dated); together with two autograph letters signed by Lionel Cecil, Nico's friend at Eton, February 1922 and no date, also to Barrie, and a telegram by Barrie to Mary Hodgson about Nico's operation in 1925

This series by Nico to Barrie dates from when he was eight years old, writing large childish script with rough sketches (one of his "Uncle Jimmy", others of his brothers, one a rebus letter, and telling him to "Buck up buck up"), until he was twenty-one. In 1916, having started at Eton,  he writes enthusiastically about searchlights and about Barrie's coming the next day, and sends a four-page humorous narrative sketch, written in orange crayon, called "The Dynamite King". He sends news of his school life and schoolfellows, mentions the homesickness of the new boys, complains about suffering unjust accusations as a "bad captain", rejoices in one of the best days of his life, and discusses his tutor, other boys (feeling helpless when Michael is not there), cricket and football results, "a very successful public Shakespeare reading", and a holiday in France. In 1923 he writes at length with news from New College, Oxford, justifies his sewing a few "wild oats" by having "an occasional late night" at a night club ("good fun if you treat it in the right spirit") and urging Barrie not to worry over his "morals" or that he should become "a man about town" and "possibly a frequent companion of strange & undesirable women" ("...I'm equally convinced that I shan't make a fool of myself in that way. Thats a subject that we've never had a talk about & I should like very much to talk to you about it..."), also referring to Peter's having "failed in that respect" ("you know what I mean"). Expressing reservations about Oxford, but giving more news about his social life, as well as sporting events, Nico comments on his being so far out of his depth with Law and planning to go to see Barrie's What Every Woman Knows.

These letters capture well Nico's extrovert personality:  "a great asset in lifting occasional periods of gloom in the household" (Birkin, p.195). Being the youngest of the five boys he was the one least affected by the early death of his parents. "Like Michael, Nico regarded Barrie not as a father, nor as a brother, `just the person I always hoped most would be coming in to see me' " (quoted by Birkin, op.cit.)

iv) Thirty-five autograph letters signed by Peter, to J.M. Barrie ("Uncle Jim"), chiefly written in pencil, 98 pages, 4to and 8vo, envelopes (with censor's stamps), mainly from the Western Front, [early November 1915] to 5 July 1918, occasional light wear

Peter writes to Barrie about his desire to join the Flying Corps; his arrival in France with men all "desperately ill"; his posting to the 1st Battalion; army life and recreations (including getting drunk on veuve Cliquot); his subsequent experiences of trench warfare ("...The Line...was extraordinarily picturesque. As far as the eye could see, star-shells were shooting up into the air, to burst and throw the most amazingly bright light over all..."); the ruins left by war; his transfer to the 2nd Battalion, where he finds himself "living a life almost of luxury" as a Signalling Officer and can enjoy reading books; and, at some length, his other experiences of  war conditions, trench fighting, army gossip and rumours, the constant barrages, and individuals lost or badly wounded (including Johnstone "who played well for Eton in 1914...and will probably lose his leg"), as well as expressing his sceptical views on the outcome of the "hopeless and grotesque folly of the war".

George and Peter Llewelyn Davies reported for duty at Winchester Rifle Depot in August 1914. After the completion of some basic formalities they were each given the King's commission in the Special Reserve of the 60th Rifles. Peter was in training at Sheerness when Barrie telegramed him with the news of George's death at the front. Of the four surviving brothers, Peter's desolation at George's death was the greatest: Barrie wrote that "I feel painfully for Peter between whom and George there was a devotion not perhaps very common between brothers" (quoted by Birkin, p.257). Within a few months, at the age of nineteen, he found himself in the bloodiest conflict of the war, the Battle of the Somme. Two months later he was sent home suffering from shell shock. Although he later returned, he never properly recovered from the mental scars: "With George dead, his parents dead, and no real communication with Barrie, Peter had lived for two years in a void, now filled with little but the memory of mud, and bodies, and bits of bodies. In later life he took meticulous care to suppress all evidence of his own past: his Morgue [see lot 289] consists almost entirely of letters relating to his ancestors, his parents, his brothers, Barrie—everyone but himself" (Birkin, p.257). The survival of the present letters by Peter is important for this reason.