Abstract
THE recent death of Mrs. Beatrice Bateson, widow of William Bateson, F.R.S., has meant more than the loss to her own immediate friends. A link with the past has been broken, and many of his former pupil and colleagues will recall the integral part she played in those memorable days at Grantchester or Merton—a Saturday afternoon, a Sunday lunch-where the sense of intellectual freedom and curiosity, the spaciousness and the humour, were of her making as well as of his. She was always there to help, whether it was Japanese prints, embroideries, a display of home art, the chicken-pens or the greenhouses that formed the absorbing interest of the moment.
Article PDF
Rights and permissions
About this article
Cite this article
Mrs. Beatrice Bateson. Nature 147, 703 (1941). https://doi.org/10.1038/147703a0
Published:
Issue Date:
DOI: https://doi.org/10.1038/147703a0