David Lloyd Hughes writes: Your obituary of Lord Grimthorpe (July 17) omitted two other colourful ancestors. One was the first baron, best known for designing and installing the clock on which Big Ben (the bell) now chimes at the Palace of Westminster. The second, his nephew, was his successor, and he was the one who created the gardens at Ravallo, where he is buried.
R. P. Gould writes: Your obituary of Professor Anthony Pearse (August 4) mentions his hypothesis that many cells of the nervous system were similar to cells that produce peptide hormone and perhaps had a common embryological origin. Over time it was realised that this idea had a limited application. Pearse had coined an acronym for his idea: the APUD system of cells. Realising the limitations, he often said that APUD now meant Anthony Pearse’s Ultimate Delusion. This is but one example of Pearse’s sense of humour. He was a delight to know and a fund of information if help was wanted over a histochemical problem.
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Jim Whyatt writes: Sadly, the obituary of Elisabeth Welch (July 16) omitted reference to Benny Carter, whose obituary had appeared just the previous day. During the June of 1936 Carter assembled a big band of handpicked British musicians and recorded several of his own compositions. The fifth, I Gotta Go, was sung by Elisabeth Welch.
Four months later when Carter was back in England, Welch was the featured artist for four songs recorded with Carter accompanying beautifully. Included were Gershwin’s The Man I Love and the little known Drop In Next Time You’re Passing, a charming piece which many suspect was composed by Elisabeth. Welch was not a jazz singer per se but the combination of her wonderful talent with that of Carter — who, in addition to composing a couple of the songs and arranging everything, variously played his trumpet and all his reed instruments — brought about treasurable recordings now perhaps rather forgotten by all but specialists.
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Roy Dean writes: There is one other thing for which we should be grateful to Elisabeth Welch. She was one of a few select singers in the 1930s who, together with night-club pianists, liked to perform Herman Hupfeld’s immortal ballad As Time Goes By. It was written in 1931 for Frances Williams to sing in the Broadway show Everybody’s Welcome, which had a very short run, and it would probably have been forgotten if these artists had not kept it alive.
Nicholas Dover writes: I have very fond memories of my brief time at Cogswell and Harrison when Andrew Tucker (obituary, July 16) was running the saleroom at the end of the Sixties. I was 18 and in my first job. He then seemed the epitome of the man I aspired to be: always well dressed, poised and very, very funny when he chose to be, which was often.
It is difficult to reproduce his manner which was somewhat theatrical, and which was helped by his slight but definite stammer, which he turned into an asset. A connoisseur of fine guns, when he was confronted by one which fell below his high standards he would invert it, and to the accompaniment of a hammering motion say: “This item will make a f-fine f-fencepost!”
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W. R. Cox writes: I notice from your obituary of the Earl of Balfour (July 28) that, in spite of suffering from dyslexia, he was a stickler for correcting misspellings. In his absence may I be permitted to continue his good work by pointing out that the name of his seat in East Lothian is not Whittinghame (one “e”), as in your text, but Whittingehame (two “e”s).