Author Archives: sjmaspero

Palmerston and the slave trade

This week we hand the reigns over to PhD student Rob McGregor who has been conducting research on Henry John Temple, third Viscount Palmerston and his relationship with British anti-slavery.  We could have titled this blog post “A beginner’s guide to historical research” as Rob provides very clear and sound advice for masters and  PhD students who wish to use original archival material in their essays.

The Right Honorable Henry John Temple, Lord Viscount Palmerston, G.B.C. Painted by J.Lucas; engraved by H.Cook. [Cope Collection cq 95 PAL pr 102]

Since the nineteenth-century, Britain has been depicted as an ‘anti-slavery nation,’ guiding the rest of the world to follow its lead in abolishing the Atlantic slave trade as well as the institution of slavery. At the helm of the Foreign Office and later as Prime Minister, Lord Palmerston, one of Britain’s least known but arguably most important statesmen, led the nation’s crusade against the slave trade. By the time of his death in office in 1865, he had virtually achieved this mission. However, although he has been remembered as many things, neither scholars nor the public have ever regarded Palmerston as a warm and sincere abolitionist. My PhD therefore looks into Palmerston’s relationship with British anti-slavery, considering his unique position, policy and conviction, as well as his motivations for wanting to end the slave trade.

A Bill respecting the Brazilian slave trade, known as the “Aberdeen Act”. It has been annotated by Palmerston; his note on the front reads “This Bill is amended as original prepared and submitted to the Queens Advocate 30 June 1845”. [MS 62 Palmerston Papers SLT/25]

Over the last three years, I have had the opportunity to read a wide range of sources related to the slave trade, but without doubt the most exciting and useful sources underpinning my work have been Palmerston’s private letters and semi-official correspondence, held in the Broadlands archive of Southampton University’s Special Collections.

This body of documents provides a unique glimpse of Palmerston’s own inner thoughts and views. What did he really think about anti-slavery? Were his public statements a true reflection of his private thoughts? Only by analysing his private letters, it seems to me, can these vital questions be answered.

“An estimate of the number of slaves introduced into Brazil during each year from 1826 to 1863 as far as can be ascertained from the records of the F[oreign] O[ffice].” 4 Aug 1864 [MS 62 Palmerston Papers SLT/36]

It can be daunting when first faced with a lengthy catalogue of primary material to explore. When I began my PhD in 2015, I was lucky enough to be conversant with the practice of searching for materials already, since I had used the archive to research my undergraduate dissertation, also on ‘Palmerston and the slave trade.’ Back then, I had been drawn to a sub-division of the archive entitled ‘Papers on the slave trade.’ It looked perfect, containing 37 items all relating to Palmerston’s anti-slavery endeavours. I looked through these papers closely and, once I had got used to reading Palmerston’s hand-writing – which I gratefully learned was excellent compared to some of his colleagues – I found lots of interesting things, like how the British and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society had presented an address to him in 1842 thanking him for his ‘generous zeal,’ or a note he wrote to himself about how his ‘blood boiled with indignation’ and his heart ‘burned with shame’ at the ‘miseries of the African.’ But when I started my PhD, I realised I was only scratching the surface.

As a Postgraduate, I learned from my supervisor, Professor David Brown, that the largest sub-division of the archive was his General Correspondence, containing around three-quarters of his letters. In total there are around 40,000 items in the Palmerston Papers, so finding things related to anti-slavery felt like looking for a needle in a haystack. Fortunately, navigating this abundance of materials was not as challenging or impossible as I’d feared.

Memorandum, in the hand of Henry John Temple, third Viscount Palmerston, of vessels reported as engaged in the slave trade at and near Rio de Janeiro, 1836-7 [MS 62 Palmerston Papers SLT/11]

I soon learnt that since this particular collection is arranged alphabetically by correspondent, the best way to find sources relating to my subject was to think creatively about who Palmerston would be writing to about it, and crucially, when. To begin with then, I searched the archive’s online catalogue for letters Palmerston had written to known abolitionists, members of anti-slavery societies, and above all his Whig colleagues.

To read through Palmerston’s letters to all of these people, however, would have taken years. There are over 1000 letters between Palmerston and Russell alone! I therefore had to limit my searches to key dates when I suspected anti-slavery would be on the political agenda; when important anti-slavery conferences were taking place or anti-slavery treaties signed, when Palmerston was threatening a pro-slavery country or when naval captains were causing furore at home and abroad by their violent actions on the West African coast.

Memorandum, by Henry John Temple, third Viscount Palmerston, showing “what has been done about Slave Trade since last year”, 30 May 1837 [MS 62 Palmerston Papers SLT/9/1]

This process served me well. Although I never found one particular letter which answered all of my questions, over time, after reading hundreds of letters in which Palmerston touched on British anti-slavery, a picture was built up which informed the direction and argument of my resulting thesis. Palmerston, it now seems to me, felt a sincere revulsion against the slave trade and wanted to end it not just because it was a long-running British aim or because it was in the nation’s imperial and economic interests, but because he felt genuine humanitarian impulses to end what he considered humanity’s greatest crime.

Thus, for me, using the Broadlands Archive was a creative process, one that required me to think imaginatively and intelligently about how to locate the best sources to help answer my particular research questions. And, due to the unique nature of the sources, it has been both an incredibly exciting and essential part of my PhD research.

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“Dear Diary…”

Tomorrow, 22 September, is #DearDiaryDay.  Do you keep a daily diary?  Have you ever tried?  Apparently, it can be great for your mental health!  Studies have shown that expressing our thoughts in a written form on a daily basis reduces anxiety and stress.

Photograph of S.M.Rich "in sports coat" taken in 1902 or 1903 [MS 168 AJ217/1 p. 34 (Friday 3 February)]

Photograph of S.M.Rich “in sports coat” taken in 1902 or 1903 [MS 168 AJ217/1 p. 34 (Friday 3 February)]

The Special Collections holds a variety of diaries and journals, some providing exhilarating accounts by Arctic explorers and of expeditions to the Nile.  However, a more everyday – but incredibly charming – record comes from Samuel Morris Rich.  We have in our strongroom an impressive 45 of his diaries dating from 1904 until his death in 1945: we like to think of him as our own twentieth-century Samuel Peyps (without the scandalous bits!).  Samuel was born in 1877 and for 40 years worked as a teacher at the Jews’ Free School in London; he was also heavily involved in the South London Liberal Jewish Synagogue.  He was married to Amy (nee Samuel) and they had two children, Connie and Sidney.

Photograph of Samuel's wife Amy. [MS 168 AJ217/1]

Photograph of Samuel’s wife Amy [MS 168 AJ217/1]

Samuel includes a photograph of  Amy at the beginning of his first volume (1905) and notes:

This portrait of Amy taken in the summer of 1898 makes a fitting frontispiece to the whole series of diaries. The dress & hat she wore on the first occasion I “took her out” – to the Crystal Palace – we met at Kennington Gate.

People have different objectives when starting a daily journal: they can be useful in resolving issues and achieving goals.  One of Samuel’s aims, it seems, was to improve his reading habits.  On New Year’s Eve 1904 he wrote this preface to his diary for the coming year:

I started a journal on Nov 26th of this year which I hope to continue until that day on which I join the great majority. The practice is useful for many reasons chief among which is the check it puts upon the method of spending one’s days.

The next day, 1 January, he expanded on his intentions:

On the last day of every month I will make a list of all books, essays or pamphlets read during the month: this will serve as an excellent check on my reading and I will be able to examine whether I have neglected to ready any good book whatever during the month.

A glance through various volumes indicates that Samuel didn’t stick to this initial intention; despite this lapse, it is hard to be critical of such a diligent diarist.

Photograph of Samuel and Amy Rich, 1901 [MS 168 AJ217/1]

Photograph of Samuel and Amy Rich, 1901 [MS 168 AJ217/1]

Samuel’s diaries provide a fascinating record of everyday life in the first half of the nineteenth century.  The timespan covers several world changing events including two world wars. On 28 July 1914 – the official date for the outbreak of the First World War – he records that he and his wife caught the 160 bus to Reigate and had “a good steak”.  He does, however, include a newspaper clipping which records that war had been declared by Austria-Hungary: he includes several of these during this period. The end of the War, 100 years ago in November this year, is recorded with great relief and celebration.

It is interesting to consider who Samuel was writing for; was it solely for his own benefit? Perhaps he wished to leave a record of his life for his children and grandchildren? His diaries are now packaged in acid-free boxes and stored in our climate-controlled strongroon: what would he made of that?! Could he ever have imagined that his diaries  would one day be preserved indefinately as a public record?

Botanical treasures of the Stratfield Saye estate

In October 1836 the botanist John Claudius Loudon wrote to Arthur Wellesley, first Duke of Wellington, requesting drawings of certain trees on the Stratfield Saye estate for a publication on the hardy trees and shrubs of Great Britain.  His returns showed that there was a Cedar of Lebanon at Stratfield Saye said to be the highest in Britain as well as the largest Hemlock Spruce Fir; he hoped that the Duke might have some drawing of them he could copy. [WP2/43/2]

"Cedrus Libani: the Cedar of Lebanon": J.C.Loudon, Arboretum et fruticetum Britannicum vol. VIII p.396

[“Cedrus Libani: the Cedar of Lebanon”: J.C.Loudon, Arboretum et fruticetum Britannicum vol. VIII p.396]

We have several copies of the resulting publication Arboretum et fruticetum Britannicum in the Salisbury Collection.

Arboretum et fruticetum Britannicum was Loudon’s most significant work but unfortunately also the most time-consuming and costly.  It contained an exhaustive account of all the trees and shrubs growing in Great Britain including their history and notes on remarkable examples.  It included drawings of leaves, twigs, fruits, and the shapes of leafless trees as well as entire portraits of trees in their young and mature state, all  drawn from life.

The first Duke of Wellington acquired the Stratfield Saye estate in 1818 from a grateful nation following the Battle of Waterloo.  It has pleasure grounds and a landscape park of approximately 523 hectares.  It had previously been owned by George Pitt, first Baron Rivers who had made extensive alterations to the park after he inherited it.  Lord Rivers had succeeded to the estate in 1745 and, through the second half of the 18th century until his death in 1803, he made major changes and improvements.  He is responsible for the walled gardens to the north-west of the house as well as the pleasure grounds planted with their arboretum of exotic trees.

In December 1836 James Johnson – possibly the estate manager – wrote to the Duke giving him details of various trees as requested by Loudon.  The highest cedar of Lebanon was 95ft but likely to grow much higher.   The hemlock spruce is the “largest and handsomest specimen of the kind” he has ever seen.  A spruce fir growing near the cedar is 104 ft high and he also measured a “very fine” silver fir in the peasantry copse.

["The fritillaria meleagris or common fritillary": Curtis's Flora Londinensis vol. III]

[“The fritillaria meleagris or common fritillary”: Curtis’s Flora Londinensis vol. III]

Johnson also encloses to the Duke a letter from the botanist Aylmer Bourke Lambert (1761-1842) concerning the Fritillaria meleagris; according to Lambert, it is “one of the most beautiful and rarest of all the English plants”.  One of the “greatest botanical curiosities in England” and Lambert discovered it in the park at Stratfield Saye “in …abundance”. [WP2/43/105].

The fritillary is now designated as “very rare” in Hampshire.  The following is an extract from the Flora of Hampshire:

The plant’s last site in Hants is in a field adjoining the famous colony on the Duke of Wellington’s estate at Stratfielde Saye, Berks, where is is now carefully conserved.  Sadly … the fritillaries on the Hants site have dwindled until in 1982 Paul Bowman [Hants botanist] could only find four plants.  However om 1986 the Duke began scattering fritillary seeds there … the most recent records are for 8 plants (1993)

Aylmer Lambert is best known for his work A description of the genus Pinus, issued in several parts 1803–1824, a sumptuously illustrated folio volume detailing all of the conifers then known.  The Special Collections has a copy of the 1832 edition.

["Pinus Pinea": A.B.Lambert, A description of the genus Pinus, vol. 1]

[“Pinus Pinea”: A.B.Lambert, A description of the genus Pinus, vol. 1]

Many of the printed volumes referenced here are from the Salisbury Collection, a collection of over 500 books, ranging in date from the 17th century to the 20th century which reflects the passion for ordering the natural world and in this case recording the plants of a particular area, which arose during the eighteenth century and continues today.  It includes examples of national floras such as those of Spain, Germany and Russia, but the emphasis of the collection is on British floras on both a national and a local level.

The 1918 Education Act and Herbert A.L. Fisher

This week we mark the 100th anniversary of the Education Act (1918) by looking at material we hold relating to education in our Cope Collection. Often known as the Fisher Act, because it was drawn up by Herbert Fisher, it raised the school leaving age to fourteen and included the provision of additional services such as medical inspection, nursery schools and centres for pupils with special needs. It applied to England and Wales (there was a separate act for Scotland).

Photograph from the George Grantham Bain collection at the Library of Congress.

Herbert A.L.Fisher (1865-1940) was an English historian, educator, and Liberal politician. He was educated at Winchester College and became a tutor in modern history at the University of Oxford.  In his autobiography, he recalls his own school days with great fondness:

I enjoyed every moment of my life at Winchester; the work, the games, the society of my fellows and of the masters, and the compelling beauty of the old buildings, of the College Meads, and of the sweet water-meadows…

[H.A.L.Fisher, An Unfinished Autobiography, Oxford: 1940]

In 1916, Fisher was asked by David Lloyd George to join the coalition government as President of the Board of Education because “the country would take more educational reform from an educationalist than from a politician.”  Lloyd George assured Fisher that money would be available for reform and that he would have his full support.   Fisher describes how despite a largely conservative cabinet, the Prime Minister’s support ensured the acceptance of every plan.

In 1917 he submitted a memorandum to the Cabinet, detailing the deficiencies in public education and the appropriate remedies.  His maiden speech in the House of Commons introduced a new scheme of educational finance.  That same year he also obtained a second reading for an Education Bill that would curtail industrial labour and give local authorities the ability to promote education from nursery schools upwards.  It became apparent that his proposals were too drastic: there was concern on the part of local authorities who would have to administer the act plus from employers would be losing adolescent labourers.  However, in 1918 the Education Act was passed.  That same year, it was supplemented by the Teachers’ Superannuation Act which provided a pension for all teachers.

The University’s Cope Collection contains Proceedings of Education Committee from 1918 onwards for the administrative county of Southampton.  The minutes record how. in November 1918, several farmers in Overton and Micheldever Districts appealed for the release of children from school for potato digging.

One aspect of the Education Act was the provision of medical inspection and the Library also holds contemporaneous medical reports of the School Medical Officer.  One dating from 1922 states that medical inspection of school children had been in existence in Hampshire for 14 years: the County must have been ahead of the times in this regard.  What was not so advanced is the language used to describe those children we would today consider to have special needs.

The report describes how two groups of children were assessed: “entrants” aged 5 and “leavers” aged around 12 or 13.  There used to be a third assessment of an intermediate group, ages 8 or 9, but this had to be stopped due to lack of staff time: some things never change. During the year, 3,456 children were discovered to have “verminous heads”: any carer of a school-age child will tell you that head lice are still a big problem today.  It should be remembered that this report pre-dates the founding of the National Health Service.

Fisher’s Act had a significant impact on a whole general of children: education provision in the country was not significantly changed for another 26 years until the Butler Act of 1944.

Celebrating 70 years of the National Health Service

On 5 July 1948 the Minister of Health, Aneurin Bevan, launched the National Health Service.  2018 marks 70 years since its establishment and during this time it has become the world’s largest publicly-funded health service.

The NHS was created out of the ideal that good healthcare should be available to all, regardless of wealth, and at its heart remain the same 3 core principles:

  • that it meet the needs of everyone
  • that it be free at the point of delivery
  • that it be based on clinical need, not ability to pay.

The Hartley Institution, the first incarnation of the University, long pre-dates the founding of the NHS but not, of course, the provision of healthcare.  In 1894, the Institution was recognised by the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons as a place of instruction for students preparing for their first medical examination.

The Hartley Institution in the High Street, Southampton, below the Bargate

Prior to this, Albert Temple Patterson, author of The University of Southampton, reports that local medical students attended lectures at the infirmary or in the “private residence of our medical men.”  A few students received instruction at the Institution with some winning scholarships to London hospitals.

The Hartley Institution became the Hartley College in 1896; Hartley University College in 1902 and the University College of Southampton in 1914.  The College calendars give details of the instruction offered for those students wishing to prepare for the medical profession.

Timetable from the Hartley University College Southampton Prospectus of day classes suitable for medical and dental students, session 1905-1905 [Univ. Coll. per LF783.5]

Courses for training health visitors were instituted in 1948-9 with Miss P.E.O’Connell appointed tutor-in-charge.  The venture was a  successful piece of co-operation between the University College and local authorities who were finding it difficult to secure qualified individuals for the new health service.

The establishment of a medical school was considered in 1950 but the University Grants Committee considered the current provision for medical education to be adequate.  However, two appointment were made for lecturers in medically related biological studies in the later 1950s, once the institution had received University status.

In 1967, the Royal Commission on Medical Education advised the Government that there was a strong case for establishing a new medical school in Southampton.  The previous year it had established that there needed to be an immediate and substantial increase in the number of doctors.

Professor Donald Acheson, Foundation Dean of the new Medical School, University of Southampton, 1968-78

Sir Kenneth Mather, (Vice Chancellor 1965-71) whose specialism was genetics, had been an enthusiastic supporter of the project.  Professor Donald Acheson arrived in October 1968 to be the foundation Dean and the first intake of students arrived two years later, in 1971.  Acheson was later appointed Chief Medical Officer under the Thatcher administration.

The nursing degree course was launched in 1982 with some 20 students.  This was greatly increased in 1995, the result of the Government’s recognition that most nurses should have degrees, and its decision to hand over training of the nurses from the NHS to the universities.

Planting a tree in honour of the first nursing graduates, October 1986 [MS 1/Phot/1/26/1]

A new school of Nursing and Midwifery was formed in 1995 by the amalgamation of the NHS College of Nursing and Midwifery with the exiting nursing group in the Faculty of Medicine.

The university maintains a presence at Southampton General in partnership with the NHS trust operating the hospital. It is home to some operations of the Faculty of Medicine and the Faculty of Health Sciences, although these two faculties have bases on Highfield campus. As a teaching hospital, it is used by a range of undergraduate and postgraduate medical students, research academics and clinicians.

Aeriel view of Southampton General Hospital, 1996 [MS 1/Phot/13/1]

The General Hospital is the biggest site of the University Hospital Southampton which also manages the Princess Anne, Southampton Children’s Hospital, Countess Mountbatten House, Royal South Hants and the New Forest Birth Centre.

In 2007, the University chose to venerate Professor Dame Sally Claire Davies, DBE, FMedSci, FRS with an honorary degree.  She is the current Chief Medical Officer for England (appointed in 2010); the first woman to be appointed to the post which has substantial de facto influence over NHS policy.

Professor Sally Davies with the Chancellor, Sir John Parker in 2007 [MS 1/GR1/18/21]

From humble beginnings, the University is today a national leader in medical education.  Working in collaboration with the NHS, the Faculty of Medicine has trained thousands of doctors and scientists.  Nursing at the University is ranked ninth in the world and the Faculty of Health Sciences also provides a first-class environment for cutting edge research to prepare tomorrow’s physiotherapists, midwives, occupational therapists, clinical phycologists and podiatrists.

Knit in Public Day

Tomorrow, 9 June, is World Wide Knit in Public Day (WWKIPDAY).  This is the largest knitter-run event in the world, and its mission is “Better living through stitching together”.  It started in 2005 with 25 local KIPs, or Knit-in-Public events.  By last year, this had amassed to 1125 KIPs in 54 different countries.  Each local event is put together by a volunteer (host) or a group of volunteers. While the origin of the name denotes that it’s all about knitting, over the years it has become an inclusive event for all “fibre lovers”.  The nearest KIP events to the University are in Dorset and Portsmouth.

Image from the Montse Stanley collection [MS 331/2/1/5/195]

Among the papers in the Special Collection strongrooms are those of Montse Stanley which passed to the University following her death in 1999.  She was committed to bringing to a wider audience both creative knitting and the history of knitting. Her personal enthusiasm for all aspects of the history of knitting was based in a professional and very successful career in knitting. She was a well-known designer and maker in her own right, and she also did much to popularise the creative possibilities of hand knitting through books, television and video, and by curating exhibitions.

Image from the Montse Stanley collection [MS 331/2/1/5/198]

Fans of knitting may also be interested to know that the sixth interdisciplinary and international In the Loop conference will be held at Winchester School of Art (WSA), University of Southampton 19-20 July 2018. This year marks the tenth anniversary of In the Loop and to celebrate this WSA is hosting In the Loop at 10, a special conference which will celebrate the outstanding contribution that the conference, its organisers, and its participants have made to knitting scholarship, while also promoting new research on all aspects of knitting.

Image from the Montse Stanley collection [MS 331/2/1/5/205]

Farewell to Killarney

After a busy month of travelling, it’s time to say adieu to Ireland. The following verse, by Henry Temple, second Viscount Palmerston, provides an appropriate goodbye. Palmerston visited Ireland several times: his family owned estates in County Sligo but he was also a keen traveller.

Upper Lake of Killarney

Killarney (Irish: Cill Airne, meaning “church of sloes”) is a town in County Kerry, southwestern Ireland.

Old Weir Bridge

The version of the poem held in the Archives is an undated copy in the hand of his son, Henry John Temple, third Viscount Palmerston, nineteenth-century Foreign Secretary and Prime Minister.

Glenaa, a mountain in Killarney

Adieu Killarney loved retreat

Where every grace and beauty meet

From thee I part perhaps no more

To view thy wild romantic shore

To float upon the silvery plain

Or thread thy trifled isles again

Along whose haunted margins green

A fairer band of nymphs are seen

Than decked Cythera’s myrtle grove

To beauty sacred and to love

But though a wanderer hence I fly

To realms beneath a distant sky

Yet fancy oft in colours bright

Shall paint the moments of delight

That saw me midst thy social train

A pleased and willing guest remain

Shall oft recall the blushing grace

Of each engaging artless face

That smiled along thine opening glades

Or danced beneath thy checkered shades

And from the crowded scenes of life

The haunts of dullness noise and strife

My wandering thoughts shall oft remove

With fond delight again to rove

Where every grace and beauty meet

In sweet Killarney’s loved retreat

[MS 62 Broadlands Archives BR23AA/2/2]

Map of Killarney showing its hills and lakes

All images taken from John Carr, The Stranger in Ireland, 1806 [Rare Books DA 975]

A passage to Ireland

This month we celebrate all things Irish and we’re kicking off by looking at some eighteenth and nineteenth century accounts of travel to the Emerald Isle.  Various passages, such as Fishguard-Rosslare or Liverpool-Belfast, are available but, for today at least, our travellers will be sailing from Holyhead to Dublin.

Dublin in John Carr, The Stranger in Ireland, 1806 [Rare Book DA 975]

Henry Temple, second Viscount Palmerston made the crossing several times – as well as being landowners in Broadlands in Romsey, his family owned estates in County Sligo.  He writes to his wife, Mary, from Dublin in 1788:

I just write a few lines to tell you that I arrived here this morning about eleven perfectly well after having been 36 hours on board the packet.  On first coming out on Monday night the sea off Holyhead was uncommonly rough and made me very sick […] Yesterday the weather was fine and we were coming on with a tolerable fair wind tho slowly and had hopes of being here in the afternoon when the wind died away and what little there was came directly against us so that tho we were very near Dublin at 4 o’clock yesterday we could not get up till 11 this morning.  There was only one passenger beside myself that I saw anything of and he not a conversable man so that I was very glad when the business was over. [MS 62/BR20/5/7]

Packet-boat (or mailboat) was the main mode of transport; these were medium-sized vessels used for mail as well as passengers and freight.  Being a sailboat, the journey was heavily dependent on good weather and this is a recurrent theme in the accounts.  Johann Kohl (1808-78), a German travel writer, historian, and geographer, considers the Irish Sea has a reputation for being “particularly rough and stormy” although nervous passengers should be reassured that “those who have been little at sea are always more anxious than they need to be in an uproar of the elements.” [Travels in Ireland by J.G. Kohl, 1844 Rare Book DA 975]

The rare books prove a good resource for this topic.  Sir John Carr (1772–1832), an English barrister and travel writer, gives an account of his passage in 1805.

The distance was only eighty miles to Ireland: the treacherous winds at starting promised to carry us over in nine hours, but violated its promise by, of all other causes of detention the most insipid, a dead calm, for two tedious days and nights, which was solely attributed by the sailors to our having a mitred prelate on board. [John Carr, The Stranger in Ireland, 1806]

Bay of Dublin, taken from Dalkey in John Carr, The Stranger in Ireland, 1806

Despite unpredictable and often unpleasantly rough weather, many writers feel duly compensated by the beautiful vistas on arrival.  The following account comes again from Kohl:

The Bay of Dublin […] presents a beautiful site to the stranger, especially if he contemplates it on a cheerful morning, from the deck of a steamer in which he has passed a story night.  The land, stretching out in two peninsulas, extends both its arms to meet him.  In the southern hand it bears the harbor and town of Kingstown, and in the northern the habour and town of Howth.            

Sir John Carr was similarly impressed:

As we entered the bay of Dublin, a brilliant sun, and almost cloudless sky, unfolded one of the finest land and sea prospects I ever beheld.

We hopes that the weather was kind to you during your passage and you’re not been left with any nauseous that would impede your exploration of Ireland over the next few weeks.  Don’t miss our post next week when we’ll be delving into the literature of Ireland.

Happy birthday Charlie Chaplin!

Today would have been Charlie Chaplin’s 129th birthday.  While best remembered as a slapstick comic actor from the era of silent film, he actually wrote, produced and directed most of the productions in which he starred.

edwinalouis and charlieMS62_MB2_L1_p34

Chaplin with Edwina and Louis Mountbatten in Hollywood [MS62/MB/L1/138]

He is pictured with Louis and Edwina Mountbatten who were visiting Hollywood as part of their honeymoon in 1922.  Out of his trademark make up, he is almost unrecognisable.

louis and charlie MS62_MB2_L1_p40

Mountbatten (left) and Chaplin [MS62/MB/L1/174]

While the Mountbattens were in Hollywood, Chaplin made a short film: Nice and Friendly (1922) as a wedding gift.  Both Edwina and Louis star alongside Jackie Coogan; Lieutenant Frederick Neilson, British Embassy in Washington, DC, and ADC to Lieutenant Lord Louis Mountbatten and his wife; Colonel Robert Thompson, U.S. Navy and Mr and Mrs Stephen H.P.Pell.  Edwina stars as the owner of a pearl necklace which various crooks attempt to steal.

[MB2/L1/165]

The film was shot in the gardens at Pickfair, the home of Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford, where Lord and Lady Louis Mountbatten and their party stayed whilst in Hollywood.  It is available to view on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xBXq_CmNaRI.

The images come from a black and white photograph album of Lord and Lady Louis Mountbatten’s honeymoon tours of Spain, Germany and the USA, 4 August 1922 – 9 December 1922. [MB2/L1].  Also from their stay in Hollywood, there are photographs taken at Cecile B.De Mille’s film studio.

Love stories from the Broadlands Archives

Saint Valentine’s Day, or The Feast of Saint Valentine, has been associated with romantic love since the fourteenth century and the time of Geoffrey Chaucer when the tradition of courtly love flourished. By eighteenth-century England, it had evolved into an occasion which resembled our modern-day celebration where people express their love by sending flowers, chocolate and greetings cards.  To mark Valentine’s Day 2017, we’re going to delve again into the wonderful resource that is the Broadlands Archives.

ms62_br46_133_r

Nineteenth century valentine card from the collection [BR46]

Henry Temple, second Viscount Palmerston, resident of Broadlands house near Romsey wrote on 24 June [1767] to “my dearest Miss Poole”:

I will not attempt to describe how melancholy and uncomfortable I have felt ever since you have been gone. I never in any solitude felt so much alone as I have done in this town these last five days, and most of all as when I have been in company. [BR16/9/1]

The object of his affections, Frances, was the daughter of Sir Francis Poole and his wife, also called Frances. Palmerston felt she had “all the qualities he could wish for in a wife” but did not want to press her for a decision “at this time”: one of Frances’s brothers, Henry, was very ill – and in fact died the following month – which was partly the cause of the delay in their marriage negotiations.  Frances appears more cautious than Henry: “you deserve a woman beautiful & young, & with every quality of the mind that can make her amiable.” [BR16/9/3].

Frances was 34 and six years senior to her suitor, hardly old, but possibly more unusual by eighteenth century standards. Henry attempted to reassure her:

The disproportion of age is nothing: the consideration with me is not about years but qualities and I am fully convinced that no woman in the world but yourself possesses all those that are requisite to my happiness [BR16/9/16]

Frances did marry Henry, the second Viscount, on 6 October 1767 but sadly died, only two years later, in childbirth at his Lordship’s house in the Admiralty on 1 June 1769.

Matrimonial ladder

Matrimonial ladder [BR34/6]

Palmerston was lucky enough to find love a second time, this time with Mary Mee, the daughter of Benjamin Mee, a London merchant living in Dublin.  Towards the end of 1782 he writes to her:

br20-1

Letter from Henry to Mary dating from when they were courting in 1782 [BR20/1/9]

My dearest M:M’s [Miss Mee’s] kind note found me just beginning to write a few lines to her (tho with such a headache I can hardly see) as I could not refrain from telling her how much I think of her and long for her society. [BR20/1/9]

They married on 4 January 1783.  The Broadlands Archives contains extensive correspondence between the couple who were clearly in love and wrote frequently whenever apart. Towards the end of his life, in November 1801, he reflects on his relationship with his first wife to his second:

I cannot conceive why one is never to speak of what one has felt the most; and why the subjects that lie the deepest in one’s heart and are the dearest to one’s remembrance are to be eternally banished from one’s lips [BR20/18/8]

A few days later, 12 November 1801, he comments that he has been going through his deceased wife’s papers. [BR20/18/9]. He passed away less than six months later on 16 April 1802 of “ossification of the throat”.

Mary was clearly distraught at the loss of her soul mate.  She writes from Lavender House, home of her sister and brother-in-law near Henley-on-Thames, in early May 1802 to an unknown recipient:

My heart is so loaded with sorrow that I hardly know how to support myself […] alas if I do not unburthen my sorrow to some friendly bosom my heart with surely break. [BR19/15/3]

Henry and Mary had four surviving children, the eldest being Henry John Temple, third Viscount Palmerston, future Foreign Secretary and Prime Minister. A week after his father’s death, 23 April 1802, Mary sent her son a long letter full of advice.  Among many things, she advises that he marry “at no very early age”, how he should treat his wife and the qualities he should look for in one, including “to be sure neither madness or evil affects her family”. [BR21/8/19]

Lord Palmerston as an elder statesman, West Front, Broadlands: an albumen print probably from the 1850s [MS 62 Broadlands Archives BR22(i)/17]

Lord Palmerston as an elder statesman, West Front, Broadlands: an albumen print probably from the 1850s [MS 62 Broadlands Archives BR22(i)/17

Palmerston married the widow Emily Cowper, née Lamb in 1839, aged 55, although they had likely been having an affair from around 1808: not sure if this was exactly what his mother had in mind!  If you would like to read an excerpt from a poem Palmerston sent to Emily on their tenth wedding anniversary – as well as other love stories from the Broadlands Archives – take a look at last year’s Valentine’s Day blog post.

If you are interested to know more about the development of Valentines – in the second week of February 1841, for example, an extra half million letters were delivered, one eighth of all the mail, because of the traffic in Valentines – you could take a look at this post from Chris Woolgar from 2015.