Letter from Edward Thomas to the poet Gordon Bottomley. Sent from Berryfield Cottage, Ashford, Petersfield, Hampshire. Archival ref: 424/1/1/1/10/121
I should like "Melusine' back soon, but keep Stores.
Ashford
Petersfield

3 i 09

My dear Gordon We were very glad to hear from you, Christmas
or not & only felt sorry we should have unwittingly added to
the responsibilities of the festive season. I seemed a long
time since I heard from you or of you: I was glad to know
you had not been ill.
I was in Swansea when I wrote last, wasn't I? Well
I saw my lake in the mountains & Penaid Castle &
Careg Cenen Castle (reputed Uther's), & then I got back to
the office if not the work of the Commission. I reviewed &
I saw people & I visited a doctor - who has made some
extraordinary cures by suggestion (without hypnotism) -
almost daily. Now I have finally left the Commission
& temporarily the doctor - who has convinced me I
suffer not from my stomach but from myself. He hope
to ask me of the elaborate self consciousness which he says
is at the root of everything wrong in me. I am not to
worry about what I eat & so on. I am sure he can cure
me & when I am regularly with him I feel that he is
curing me. I wish I had £100 to go daily for a couple
of months. N. B. Don't discuss this doctor or his
methods with me. It is bad for me to think about the
subject.
Dent is an ass but I am afraid I can't convert
him. Bone was so good too - had half a dozen
admirably simple strong things, mainly from Sussex,
that I could use. Of course they would not have
appealed at one to the thousands whom Dent fondly
believes he is going to persuade to read E. T. Will you read
the proofs of my 'South Country' for me in a month
or so? The Guthrie preface is extracted from it, though
the greater part was of course written definitely about him in the first place.
There is Melusine & what do you think of
the polite Mr. Storer? I think he has a good deal in
him unless he has some literary source which I am
unacquainted with.
I was very sorry indeed to miss Trevelyan's poem
It went to some one, I don't know whom. But I may see
it yet - the 'Saturday' sends verses much belated
sometimes.
I envy you meeting Abercrombie, but doubtless he
will find his way to London.
We are not up the hour yet. The house won't
begin until March. So far only the garden is touched. I
only wish my work house was ready - you know
I am to have a little thatched room a hundred yards
from the dwelling, at the edge of the Hanger. You
will like it. I hope you will be in it sometimes
before next winter.
Bronwen is to be bridesmaid at an Oxford
friend's wedding this week & all but me are going to
town. I hope to start a story in the hours of
solitude. I have two or three goodish schemes for
stories or episodes - can you suggest a subject for
a book? I owe Methuen a book.
When I walk next I hope I shall arrive
at Cartmel. Goodby & our love to
Emily and you. Ever yours Edward Thomas