My Friend, Gladys Peto

A hand-drawn bookplate by British artist Gladys Emma Peto

I have written here before about Gladys Peto, an artist whose work I stumbled over 10 years ago. Peto was a commercial artist and illustrator during the English jazz age. I became of fan as soon as I saw that first drawing in a Quebec antique shop and since then have done my bit to rescue her from the near-complete obscurity into which she had fallen. I briefly hosting a website (back then one had to pay and it became a problem) and then writing a Wikipedia article about her some years back. (See the sidebar for a few of my favorite Peto images).

My interest in GP has brought me good things. In addition to a little collection of pictures and postcards and books (that I still love, though I have stopped collecting), I connected with the inimitable at Juliet Doyle at Musings from a Muddy Isle when she wrote a few Peto posts. Later Jeanette Payne introduced herself, via the internet. Jeanette has occupied the Peto Fandom Field with her fabulous and scholarly collection of Peto-ana which she shares on her website.

I periodically dip into my Peto collection and a few days ago I took down from the shelf, for my bedtime reading, a travel book she wrote in 1928 called The Egypt of the Sojourner. Peto’s husband, Cuthbert Lindsay Emmerson, was in the Royal Army Medical Corps and they were posted to Malta and Cyprus and later to Egypt. (A descendant of C. Lindsay found me via the internet and kindly sent me a copy of the Emmerson-Peto marriage license – as I say, good things have followed my interest). Peto wrote travel books intended to inform the long-term visitor to Malta and Cyprus and Egypt. They were published in the 1920s by J.M. Dent.



Of course, the world of the wives of Army Officers in the days of Empire is one that is well and thoroughly lost and only a horrible Colonel Blimp could these days regret it. But it makes fascinating reading – it’s like walking into a Merchant and Ivory production but without the make-believe and alongside a guide who was – is – there.

Her style in this little travel book is light and very immediate. Her witty reproductions of ship-board conversations, or the idle chatter of neighbor officers wives over their sewing, bring it to life. Horrible oppressive imperialism aside for a moment, Empire had its winners and its romance, and both are, however unintentionally, on display here.

The other thing that struck me, as I opened the book again today while drying off from my bath, was how much I am sure I would have liked GP if I had known her back 80 years ago.

See what you think. Here’s a little exceprt from the chapter titled, “Cairo, The Daily Round”:

You can also have, at Gezira, the ideal and perfect lunch for a summer day, or for a winter day pretending to be summer, for you can order sandwiches and beer to be brought to you under the trees – also large wicker chairs. The sandwiches are very worthy of remark, for they are very fine large sandwiches, and the bread is always new, and inside them is foie gras and other pleasant fillings… and if you ask only your really intimate friends to join you, you can all read magazines and need not talk at all, and really what can be more pleasant than that… Only you must go early to the magazine room to steal your magazines, or there will be nothing left but Honey the Beekeepers Guide, and American paper about a new religion and then you get drowsier and drowsier, and enjoy a happy little dream or two before you go away to the races, or to the tennis courts, or to the golf course….

And then back again to drink tea… and meet all your friends and recognise your acquaintances, and marvel forever about the two or three groups who happen to be unknown to you. At the end of a few months you will know practically everyone of the British community by sight at least, so you will naturally greatly resent the arrival of anyone whose history and business you do not know.

Illustrations by GP, naturally

Well? I must say that GP’s idea of a good time and mine accord. (Magazines and sandwiches in the shade with your best friends? Sounds like heaven to me. I think I could get used to servants fetching chairs). Her self-effacing manner and obvious intelligence also commend her to me.

The Hon. Lady Fisher wrote an obituary for Peto when she died in 1977. It was , something less, actually, than a full blown obitutary - I forget what theTimes (London) calls it. But postwar Britain had not been friendly to Peto’s style or sensibilities and the obit. makes clear that Lady Fisher was reminding those of “the older generation” of the then-forgetten artist whose books for children, drawings, designs for pottery, dresses, and theatre scenery were such a feature of English life in the 1930s. Lady Fisher wrote:

A truly successful artist in her prime, she was admired and loved by all who knew her, not least for the humorous charm of manner which enhanced her life style, as it did, indeed, her work […]

I don’t doubt the truth of that or that was written by Lady Fisher for The Times through tears.

In Rolls March And Some More Gladys Peto Pictures

We were cozy in the dining room at the Last House on the first of March on the day after another walloping snow storm, having dinner in what felt a little like a Salon with our friends from England. (R and A, and R's daughter S with S's boyfriend T)It is always a lot of fun to see the couples from England who have bought places here in darkest Vermont. We met one set when we shared a babysitter a couple summers ago and they introduced us to their friends who first brought them here.

My family, and the husband's, really don't get why we would live here, in the cold middle of nowhere in an old house with one bathroom and substandard everything. They persist in sending us smoke alarms and fire escape ladders for presents. My mother often wonders what we would do if the whole place fell into the cellar, which she seems to believe is imminent (she may be right, too). My brothers-in-law have not darkened our doors in years - too cold, and one summer years ago, too many mosquitoes. Given this steady current of low-level disapproval it's nice to be with people who get the attraction of this area and who actually seem to think this old falling-down house is a great place. I don't think they're faking out of politeness either. Really, the fact that they are willing to travel across the wide ocean and drive from the nearest international airport to be here suggests a genuine enthusiasm. As for the house, the first time the male half of this couple was here last summer, he and his 30-something daughter - who was along on that trip - fairly gushed about how they loved the place. (She owns a children's bookshop in London - another must-see for the Great Woolfoot UK Expedition of April 2008). Of course, by virtue of having made such a choice and come such a long way they are bound to be interesting. Kid 1 and I will be visiting them in Oxford next month in the famous trip to England- he's a pediatrician with an international reputation in adolescent health, and she's something to do with the National Health Service. They couldn't be nicer.

Other than this spot of entertaining the Last House has been quiet this weekend. Kids are still home from school on what may be the worst-used school vacation in history. Today was a jewel of a day, blue skies and new snow, but we made little use of it. I did take them to Wendy's (again) and skating, but only briefly. Kid 2 refused to wear the mittens that one of Kid 1's friends had left behind and they were the only pair we had in the car for him. (He wouldn't wear a girl's mittens and not those belonging to someone else). So, we left. Home again to Harry Potter marathon on ABC family and microwav popcorn. See what I mean by worst-used vacation?

Peto Pics

There seems to have been an uptick in interest in my old friend the artist Gladys Emma Peto. I Googled her again tonight and found a reference on another blog (de minimus, but there) and Juliet Doyle has noted in her blog, "Musings from a Muddy Island", that her Peto posting has been one of the most landed-on that she has done. I see a London art dealer is selling the original of the cover of Peto's book "Summer Days" for 1,450 pounds. I remember when the last owner had that book cover. He contacted me about it to get some Peto info. (I think I still had the website then). He was a dealer of some sort and was taking it around to some book shows as I recall. Well, perhaps it has begun. (Her rediscovery by people whose opinion matters in these things). In looking through my scans I found some that I don't think I have posted.

Gladys Peto Follow Up

I recently connected with a fellow blogger who has posted a bunch of great pictures by Gladys Peto (about whom you may also read here in my archives). Juliet has a beautiful blog with wonderful pictures of Mersea Island, England and lots of interesting reading, q.v.. http://julietdoyle.blogspot.com/

I just left her a comment telling her that since my long ago last Peto posting, I have gotten a little new information. I also had a couple of Gladys Peto images that I hadn't previously posted. These are above. The bottom, (bad) picture is the one that started me learning about and collecting Gladys Peto. I think it captures something magic about childhood: a fleeting feeling we would get from time to time that really anything was possible - no laws of physics. I bought it at a Quebec antique store about 10 years ago. I was certain that its creator must have been "someone" given the charm of the picture. Of course, I was right! The little drawing is a book plate I bought some years ago on Ebay. I love it and it's framed on the wall in my house now. The color picture is an illustration from one of her children's stories - something almost a little spooky there...

I also wanted to make available to anyone who is interested the text of a letter GEP wrote to Sir Cecil Beaton back in 1974. How did I get this? I am glad you asked. A few months ago I wrote to the library at St. John's College, Cambridge where they have the archive of Beaton's papers. This letter was in the catalog. A College Librarian was kind enough to send me a copy. It's dated April 10, 1974 at Lake Limawady (sp?) County Derry, Northern Ireland.

To Sir Cecil Beaton

I have just read with great pleasure the article 'Fifty Years of Focus by a Master' in the Daily Mail (Apr. 9)

So I took from the shelves your book The Glass of Fashion (which we much cherish) and read it again. On page 31 there is a bit about me and my balloons [there is a shaky drawing of the trademark Peto "bubbles" in the text here] and I wondered if anyone ever says "What ever happened to Gladys Peto?" Well, I went on drawing balloons till 1946 when my husband retired from the army and I retired from commercial art in favor of gardening and landscape painting in water colour.

In 1970 I had a stroke. My right hand is still paralysed. I draw (and write) with my left hand and send you a little drawing. [There is a drawing of a bunch of flowers on one page on the letter]. I need hardly say how much we admire your photographs and the charming illustrations to the Glass of Fashion.

Yrs sincerely,
G.E. Emmerson
Gladys Peto

She would have been 84 years old when she wrote this. Three years later she was gone for good. Isn't this a poignant, almost heartbreaking letter? The early 70s were not the era for her kind of art, and her posture here (forgotten old woman seeking some attention from the great man who once mentioned here in a book) is almost pitiable. That isn't to say that it is undignified - I think it has great dignity; also intelligence and good manners - just sad that she had to wonder near the end if anyone in the beau monde remembered her. I also find it noteworthy that Cecil Beaton kept it - and miraculous that more than 30 years later we all have access to it. I have thought more than once that if there is a heaven, like the one in the common imagination, perhaps GEP is up there and having some subtle influence on this rediscovery made possible mostly by the internet.

Around the time I got this letter I got a copy of a biography of Cecil Beaton. It was quite interesting, although I didn't finish it, I'll admit. One thing that stuck with me, given my plans to visit England, were the many descriptions of his home, Ashcombe. He inhabited it as a renter for years and made it very beautiful. I thought I might be able to visit it. It took me about 10 seconds on Google to find out that I wouldn't be able to do any such thing since it is now owned by Madonna (the singer, not the Mother of God). She and her husband are, apparently, not welcoming.

I also managed to track down a copy of The Glass of Fashion at the library at the University of Vermont. I was tempted to buy a copy for myself but they are collectors items now and the first edition (1954) and a 1989 reprint are quite expensive. It was a great little book and I was surprised to find that Beaton was really a very good writer. Here are some links of interest:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cecil_Beaton
http://julietdoyle.blogspot.com/