20 Days of Orkney Trees #11

Today's post is a letter written to Orcadian historian John Mooney in 1925. The author is New York based business man, Adam H. Cormack, who had a 'dream of forestation' for Orkney.


'It appears to me, Mr. Mooney, that we of the present generation could do few things that would be of more permanent good to our native Isles than to start a tree planting movement in the Orkneys. Not that the present generation, or at least we who are now of middle life, could expect to derive any direct benefit except the pleasure of added charm of the Orkney landscape which would necessarily follow from the planting of trees, but it would be of great importance and benefit to future generations.'

Orkney Archive Reference D49.3.1

Adam Cormack was born on the island of Eday in 1872, the 10th of his father James' children. James was a crofter who did not own any land and Eday's population was gradually becoming too much for the available resources to support. Adam will have seen America as an opportunity to own property and land and to make a good living, but Orkney obviously never left his heart.


I didn't find any evidence of any results of Adam Cormack's reforestation dream but, as was discussed a couple of posts ago, the Forestry Commission did plant 18 hectares of woodland on Orkney during the 1950s.




Information taken from:

Orkney Archives D49/3/1 and  D31/31/1 'Typescript of a book entitled Tales of Orkney and Eday, my Father's Island, by Maribelle Cormack'

20 Days of Orkney Trees #10

Today we bring you a couple of vouchers for work carried out in 1838. Alexander S. Graham of Crantit paid William Crear 16 shillings at the rate of 2 shillings per day for 8 days of pruning and transplanting trees and pruning the hedges in the grounds surrounding the ruins of the Bishop's Palace in Kirkwall.




Orkney Archive Reference D9/10

The 1883 OS map detail and Tom Kent image below show the Bishop's Palace and its trees several years later:



1883 Ordnance Survey

Tom Kent image reference 3412

Archive reference D9/10 also contains a letter from the Commissioners of Her Majesty's Woods and it has a lovely seal on the envelope...

Billy Manson's Sea Chest

It is time for another post from our redoubtable Balfour Blogger. This one covers sea-faring,  packing for said faring and smelly, 18th Century pants. Avast and Huzzah!

Click To Enlarge

Orkney Archive reference D2/22/20

 

 

Billy Manson left Ackworth School, Yorkshire, in April 1791, aged 15 and came north to his father’s home in Kirkwall, Orkney. Ackworth was, still is, a Society of Friends, a Quaker, boarding school.

Billy’s father was Captain William Manson, sea captain, trader, ultimately Comptroller of Customs at Kirkwall and co-founder of the settlement of Friendsborough in Georgia, USA. His mother was Dinah Jackson from Whitby. She was William’s first wife, and she disappeared in Georgia sometime after February 1780 when she and William parted company, leaving Billy and his sister Elizabeth with their father, in Georgia. Billy had been born on-board his father’s ship, the Georgia Packet, in December 1775, as his parents, his sister and 100 settlers arrived in Savannah from a 14 week crossing of the Atlantic from Britain. Many adventures later, William returned to Orkney and remarried, in 1787. His second wife was Elizabeth Balfour, sister of John, Thomas and David Balfour, and in marrying her, William probably made the best bargain of his life, finding himself a fine wife and an active and lucrative role in the Balfour family’s burgeoning estates and business interests.

The Mansons, particularly Captain William, figure highly amongst Orkney Archives’ Balfour Papers. There are letters from the Captain, ledgers and financial documentation from his father’s business, from his own business, letters to and from all of Captain William’s siblings, his mother and much else.

And in amongst it all, in bundle D2/22/20, is a letter dated September 8^th 1792, from Kirkwall, to an unknown person, written possibly by Billy’s stepmother, Elizabeth. It is a list of what is to go into a chest for W Manson and it becomes clear that this is a list of what a young man i.e. Billy, will need, going to sea for the first time.

Firstly, a list of clothing to be put into the chest, presumably from his current wardrobe, being:

8 white shirts and 6 check shirts

6 pair linen, 6 pair woollen and 1 pair cotton stockings

1 green great coat, 1 brown coat

3 waistcoats and 3 pairs breeches

3 pair shoes and 1 pair buckles

2 silk handkerchiefs and 2 cravats

3 pair worsted mittens, and

3 pocket handkerchiefs

I’m curious about the 12 shirts and how the white are to be successfully laundered, versus the check ones. White shirts suggest smart formality and their preponderance suggests an officer rather than a seaman. Also why 13 pair of stockings - and the specific need for 1 pair of cotton stockings? Why 2 coats of different colours? Were they also of different materials, for different climates? 2 silk handkerchiefs and 2 cravats – also of silk? For land-based or sea-based events?

The following page of the letter then states that further items are to be purchased for Billy at London (does this mean, once he gets there from Kirkwall?), which

‘may be had cheapest & most suitable  at a slop shop in Wapping’

A slop shop in Wapping? A shop where ready-made clothing was sold, and in Wapping because it was hard on the River Thames and part of London’s docklands. Young Billy’s uncle Thomas was settled in London and it is probable Billy was with his uncle and his family, pending his departure.

The list of what’s to be bought at the slop ship is headed by more clothing:

2 outside duffle jackets, lined in the body and sleeves with blue flannel and [costing]about 10 to 12 shillings each, with horn buttons - duffle in the 18^th Century is about the type of fabric, a heavy-duty woollen flannel, rather than the design of the garment. Horn buttons would have been harder-wearing than wooden.

2 pair canvas long trousers about 2 shillings and sixpence to 3 shillings  – canvas would be immensely hard-wearing, and note the fact that they must be long trousers, not knee-length, or any other short trousers.

1 pair blue baize trousers, at 5 shillings – baize being coarse, woollen cloth.

3 pair woollen drawers at 2 shillings to 2 shillings and sixpence i.e. undergarments worn next to the skin. Billy has 12 shirts but only 3 pairs of drawers. It’s an imbalance not to be dwelt on, perhaps.

2 under waistcoats with sleeves, unlined with horn buttons at 5 to 6 shillings – think about the environment Billy is setting out into. The letter is written in September so we can surmise an autumn or early winter departure, from London, out onto a cold, cold Atlantic ocean where layers of warm clothing will be vital.

The list then moves onto miscellaneous items:

I hammock bed of flock, 2 blankets and a rug  – not only did a hammock take up least space in the confined world of 18^th century ships, but it was a safe place for a sailor to sleep. The hammock moved in rhythm with the ship and held in the sailor, much preferable to being flung about in a bunk.

1 pair block tin buckles with brass chapes and tongues- as 2 buckles are required, it seems probable they are for footwear. Block tin is solid tin, as opposed to tinplate, therefore sturdy, as is the brass from which the chapes and tongues are to be made. And what of the chapes and tongues? Chapes are the plates by which the buckle is attached to the shoe and the tongue is the pin of the buckle.

2 sailors’ frocks of canvas to wear over all – the frock worn by a sailor was a heavy duty, waist length tunic, presumably as protection from weather and dirt. No Gore-Tex for Billy and his companions!

1 French Grammar and Dictionary to be got second hand, and any other small books he may chuse – is this the first clue as to where Billy is heading? His father and Uncle Thomas both had connections to the Caribbean sugar trade, and France had its share of the islands of the Caribbean, which Billy might visit if he too joined that trade. Or - the French Revolution of 1789 was the reason for war across Europe by 1792. Britain was neutral until 1793, but the storm was brewing and perhaps understanding French might be useful for a naval man – prizes to be captured on the high seas, perhaps?

And finally, one navigation book of Hamilton Moor’s that has all the tables used in keeping a ship’s way at sea etc – John Hamilton Moor was Edinburgh born and his The New Practical Navigator and Daily Assistant was published in 1772. Again, an indication that Billy is officer material, to be trained to command and take charge, as his father had done.

The letter’s author believes it is needless to buy a quadrant for him for the 1^st voyage, nor sea charts.  But notes that if Billy meets up with John Paterson (who was John Paterson?), he should take Paterson’s advice on what it is necessary to have for this first trip.

Finally, the writer states

N.B. His things must be very easy for him as sea clothes are very apt to shrink and get past use in a little time- presumably easy is used in the sense of comfortable and roomy.

There is very little known about young Billy’s sea-going career. He had been born at sea, he had crossed the Atlantic before he was 10 years old, returning from America to Britain, his father was a sea-going man and his London and Orkney families lived by trade which was dependent on the sea: all in all, no surprise then that he goes to sea, aged 16. It may be that more information lies un-catalogued in the Manson letters in the Balfour papers - we don’t know the ships he sailed on; whether he was Royal Navy or Merchant Navy, but probably the latter given his father’s and uncle’s connections.

What we do know, from a sad, torn and tattered little list of family deaths, written up perhaps by his step-mother, is that Billy died in June 1795, of yellow fever in Antigua. He was 20 years old.  

Yellow fever is a nasty, tropical virus spread by infected mosquitos. Inoculation helps nowadays and immunity also builds but Billy didn’t benefit from either in 1795. Antigua is one of the West Indies, and was an important British naval base from the 1660s onwards. Was he nursed at the naval hospital at English Harbour, or were its beds reserved for Royal Navy men? Did he die, as he was born, on board ship? And does he have a burial place in Antigua?

A short life, filled with adventure and separation – the loss of his mother, his time at Ackworth, and then away to sea, far from father, step-mother, sister and all the rest. Did he mind? A life lived from sea-chests ………

 

And a post-script: in April 2018 an Orkney family visited Antigua, made contact with the local Archive

http://www.antiguanationalarchives.org/. There was no immediate trace of Billy there, but they will keep looking – he was one of hundreds, if not thousands of seamen who died in the Caribbean – and so the candle lit for Billy by uncovering the inventory of his sea-chest, will keep burning and we’ll also keep looking for more information in the Balfour papers

"They Have as Much Idea of a Rhinoceros as a Poet..."

We've written about Robert Burns a couple of times before but we have not yet shared this letter. It is a copy letter (before carbon copies, people often copied out letters by hand) and was found, loose, in a book of health reports several years ago.

It is from Robert, writing from his farm at Ellisland, to John Beugo the artist who made the above engraving from the famous portrait by Alexander Naysmith.

In it, he confesses of being bored by Dumfrieshire society; 'I am here at the very elbow of existence' and complains that his neighbours 'have as much idea of a rhinoceros as of a poet.'

He asks Buego to keep in touch and to send him proofs any portraits the artist completes.

Orkney Archive reference D1/15/6 - Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Dusty is our resident Rabbie expert because he is her boyfriend but she got all huffy after reading that he was back with his 'darling Jean' and is currently sulking in her office with a bottle of gin.

A transcription follows:

To Mr.John Beugo,

Ellisland, near Dumfries Sept. 9- 1788.

My Dear Sir,

There is not in Edinburgh. above the number of the graces

whose letters would have given so much pleasure as yours of the 3rd
inst., which only reached me yesternight.

I am here on my farm, busy with my harvest; but for all that most
pleasurable part of life called Social Communication I am here at the
very elbow of existence. The only things that are to be found in this
country, in any degree of perfection, are Stupidity and Canting. Prose
they only know in Graces, Prayers, etc., and the value of these they
estimate, as they do their plaiding webs, by the ell; as for the muses,
they have as much an idea of a Rhinoceros as of a Poet. For my old,
capricious, but good-natured hussy of a muse,

  By banks of Nith I sat and wept
   When Coila I thought on,
  In midst thereof I hung my harp
   The willow trees upon.

I am generally about half my time in Ayrshire with my "darling Jean,"
and then I, at lucid intervals, throw my horny fist across my
becobwebbed lyre, much in the same manner as an old wife throws her hand
across the spokes of her spinning-wheel.

I will send you the Fortunate Shepherdess as soon as I return to
Ayrshire, for there I keep it with other precious treasure. I shall send
it by a careful hand, as I would not for anything it should be mislaid
or lost. I do not wish to serve you from any benevolence, or other grave
Christian virtue; 'tis purely a selfish gratification of my own feelings
whenever I think of you.

You do not tell me if you are going to be married. Depend upon it, if you do not make some damned foolish choice, it will be a very great improvement in the Dish of Life. I can speak from Experience; tho' God knows my choice was as random as Blind-man's buff. I like the idea of an honest country Rake of my acquaintance who like myself married lately - speaking to me of his late steps "L--d man" says he "a body's baithe cheaper and better sairt!"

If your better functions would give you leisure to write me, I should be
extremely happy; that is to say, if you neither keep nor look for a
regular correspondence. I hate the idea of being obliged to write a
letter. I sometimes write a friend twice a week; at other times once
a quarter.

I am exceedingly pleased with your fancy in making the author you
mention place a map of Iceland, instead of his portrait, before his
works; 'twas a glorious idea.

Could you conveniently do me one thing?--whenever you finish any head, I
should like to have a proof copy of it. I might tell you a long story
about your fine genius; but, as what everybody knows cannot have escaped
you, I shall not say one syllable about it.

If you see Mr Nasmith, remember me to him most respectfully as he both loves and deserves respect; tho if he would pay less respect to the meer carcasse of greatness, I should think him much nearer perfection:

My best direction for four or five months to come, is "at Mauchline"

I am truly my Dear Sir, yours to command

Robt. Burns



RIP GMB

A lovely letter to a Newcastle reading group from George Mackay Brown who died on this day 21 years ago. (Click to enlarge).

Orkney Archive Reference D1/852

Sylvia Wishart Papers Now Catalogued!

Orkney Archive reference: D136/1/11
Double exposure - Sylvia and geraniums.

A little over a year ago, we received a donation which pleased us greatly. A small collection of the personal papers of Orcadian artist Sylvia Wishart (1938-2008).


The single box contains many invitations to private views of work, her own and others, some personal photographs, teaching materials, press cuttings, poems by friends and correspondence.


A very modest woman, there are only a couple of examples of writing by Sylvia Wishart herself about her own work process and one of these was written in answer to a letter from a schoolchild:

'...I prefer others to talk about my pictures - feeling that I've had my say!... But whatever method you adopt or develop it is only the vehicle to carry your idea. I would advise you to try all sorts of things with a "let's see what happens" attitude; and if three times out of every ten you surprise yourself, that's a good ratio to be going on with!'

The collection also contains a folder of blue-prints showing the renovation of a Stromness pier property into a flat and studio. That same building now houses the Pier Arts Centre.

The most delightful thing about this collection, however are the lovely pictures:

Orkney Archive Reference: D136/1/3/2 A Christmas print.

Orkney Archive Reference: D136/1/5/3
Melsetter Farm - print made for local business calendar, early 1970s.

Orkney Archive Reference: D136/1/5/3
West Pier, Kirkwall - print made for local business calendar, early 1970s.

Get Off My Island!

Frances Ligonier Balfour

Long-term readers may remember our great excitement when Eastenders hosted a live episode for their 25th anniversary. 'How can this be topped?' we asked. By live WEEK 30th anniversary Eastenders, that's how.




We have been celebrating here in the archive by beating each other on the head with ashtrays, having secret affairs and accusing loved ones of murder. We have also spent most of our working hours in the pub or the caff without detriment to our jobs. Sorry customers.




We have also had a look at Orkney's own steely matriarch of the Balfour family, Frances Ligonier Balfour.


Frances has been described as 'supercilious, ironic with a sharp wit and fond of argument'.


Although the daughter of an aristocratic father, Frances was actually illegitimate but this does not seem to have harmed her social standing. Intelligent and clever and plain, Frances had struggled in the late 18th century marriage market until she met 'flamboyant and charming' Thomas Balfour. Tom was ten years her junior so Frances lied about her age and they were wed soon after meeting.


Frances had three children in her late thirties and was devoted to them and her beloved husband who, unfortunately, kept disappearing off to Dublin only to return with lice, typhus fever and illegitimate children on the way.


As Tom lay on his death bed, Frances coolly received a volley of increasingly frantic letters from her husband's pregnant mistress. She agreed to uphold Tom's offer of a £50/year annuity for the child and to keep in touch.


"my daughter was a legacy bequeathed to you and I have no doubt you will fulfil your promise." (The mysterious Mrs Jackson/M/Clifford to Frances soon after her daughter's birth.)


The year before, Frances had been outraged by her daughter Mary's elopement with the socially inferior Church minister Alexander Brunton.


"I have been betray'd by the blackest ingratitude and perfidy.They went to Glasgow as soon as the ceremony was performed. They are still there but have not condescended to write,." (Frances to her sister-in -law).


Mary and Alexander further horrified her when informing her of their plans to take in lodgers to make ends meet.


 "Your Sister and her Husband I am inform'd are to go to reside in Edinburgh immediately. They propose taking Boarders. I wish I was rich enough to prevent so disgraceful a means of increasing their Income" (Frances to her son William).


Frances was more relaxed about William's love life as, 5 years after the elopement, when he was considering taking a wife she gave him this advice:


"Let it not raise your vanity if I tell you, I believe you may throw your handkerchief to any of our Orkney Belles. Men are scarce, competence scarcer, and a Gentleman the scarcest of the three. You ask me if there is any good natured Girl of my Acquaintance who would accept of you? In a matter of such importance you shou'd chuse for yourself, but my present advice is (tho' rather a licentious one for a parent,) that, for a year to come you wou'd take a Mistress, not into keeping, but a Lady who can keep you..."


Like all the best soap matriarchs, Frances didn't mince her words and was as tough as old boots. She died of a terminal illness in 1813 leaving behind a rich, well-spiced correspondence for future historians to savour.


"You can have no idea what a set of wretches this Country (Orkney) is inhabited. An honest Man would almost stand alone in it."

Frances' angry letter after the elopement of her daughter, Mary. D2/8/16

 

 

 Information taken from Orkney Archive references:

D2/5/6

D2/11/16

D2/7/3

D2/27/11

Who Was Who In Orkney by W. S. Hewison

The Orkney Balfours 1747-99 by Ray Fereday

Terribly Terrific Tigers

 

We are very sorry for the lack of posting recently but various tragic I.T. occurrences have made it very difficult. Rest assured that we have been wailing over keyboards whilst rending our clothes in a bid to communicate with you.

The letter shown above caused much hilarity in the searchroom a few days ago as it is possibly the poshest letter ever written. David Balfour is being alerted to the fact that his tiger heads have been left in the capable hands of one Mr Sanderson and his correspondent draws attention to the hard won (8 days of stalking!) tiger head of a Mr David Kennedy although " I consider that yours are specimens that are not easily equalled."

Read it do. It'll make you feel like a peasant.

The Mystery of the Bluejacket Boy...

I write this post with a monocle screwed into one eye and an ill-advised moustache drawn onto my top lip with permanent marker pen. Dusty has taken the time to struggle into a mauve twin set and felt hat and both of us wield enormous magnifying glasses.

For we are detectives! And we invite you to be detectives too! Quick, pop on a trilby and light up a cigar, as we tell you the mysterious tale of ‘The Bluejacket Boy…’

One day, not so long ago, we received an email from a lady who wished to deposit an old letter with the archive. So far, so normal, but this was no ordinary family heirloom. The letter was written in 1916, in Orkney, by a young sailor to his family in Llanelli, Wales. We do not know his name as he only ever refers to himself by the nickname ‘your bluejacket boy.’

The letter was sealed and obviously intended to be posted as it bears a stamp. But. It was found, sealed, 64 years later behind a fireplace in Bridge Street, Kirkwall. His family never received it and the family who eventually uncovered it in their home have no idea how it ended up in the chimney space.

We have a few clues. He mentions various family members and asks to be remembered to them. He also mentions sending a handkerchief with a picture of a sailor on it to ‘Ethel’ who said ‘that’s Uncle Dai’ when she opened it. Is Ethel his niece? Is the Blue Jacket Boy named Dai? He talks about his sister Hannah too.

We would like to find out exactly who this man was and if there are family members still around. We shall keep you posted as we try and track the family down and do please get in touch if you have any suggestions or thoughts. Some extracts below:

For an update on information found out by Jan 2014, click here.
Mystery Solved information here.

"A POX UPON YOU!!....."

...Is the curse we have been using of late after finding this amusing letter addressed to Alexander Watt, merchant in 1768.

In it, Robert Sandison expresses amazement that a young woman of their acquaintance is to marry a 'Parched, sapless soldier' saying 'a pox upon you young cow hearted fellows to let so many pretty charmers slip into the arms of old, worn out powder.'

He then bemoans his hangover: ''must now draw to a conclusion my Caput (head) being in great disorder after a Debauch last night...some of us Youngsters had a private dance with some ladies of our acquaintance & after seeing them home we had a severe frolick...' What does THAT mean I wonder?


Orkney Archive Reference D1/437/1

George! Mackay! Brown!

It is the anniversary of the wonderful George Mackay Brown's birth today. He would have been 91.

We used to feel a little silly as an archive because, until recently, we did not really have many documents relating to one of Orkney's best known authors. A couple of letters and a few copies of the magazine he edited whilst at Eastbank hospital and that was about it.

However, as posted here in December, we are now lucky enough to hold 21 boxes of letters, poems and stories by the great man on permanent loan. The collection holds the reference D124 and is ready to view.

George Mackay Brown

Yesterday was the anniversary of George Mackay Brown's birth. He would have been 89. Orkney Archive do not hold GMB's papers*, unfortunately, as they still reside with his executors, but we do have a few relevant archives.

We hold some of his correspondence, mainly with Ernest Walker Marwick, some B.B.C. scripts which were written for programs on Orkney and several recordings of the poet either reading his own works or talking about the work of others such as Edwin Muir.

A personal favourite, is the set of Saga magazines which George Mackay Brown edited during his stay at Eastbank tuberculosis hospital. Originally an unsophisticated, hand-typed effort with cardboard covers, the third  edition was printed by the local newspapers and made available outside of the hospital. The magazines contain poems, songs, articles, journal extracts, short stories and a murder mystery by fellow patients as well as Brown himself. The magazines ran from the summer of 1953 and the summer of 1954 and there are 5 in total.

We have also found a photograph of the young poet amongst our school class photos from Stromness. Can you spot him in the third row?

Saga magazines reference: D1/296

 

 

*In 2012 we received, on permanent loan, 21 boxes of GMB's papers. For a contents list click on this link.

Sock It To Me #2

 Yesterday, our Principal Archivist found this fantastic letter sent from the front during World War One thanking the ladies of Orkney for all the packages of socks that they had conveyed to the soldiers. The author of this thank you note? Stanley Cursiter, Orkney's best known artist.

Most of the Women's Institute and Church groups had been producing mountains of socks to send out to the troops and this letter shows just how much these gifts were appreciated by the recipients.

"My Dear Ladies,

I feel as though I had almost laid myself open to a charge of obtaining goods on false pretences. In spite of my intentions, I have to confess that I have not been able to carry out my part of the compact, and the parcel of socks which arrived so opportunely was distributed without my personal supervision. However, I am in a position to describe it, and also to express, on behalf of my platoon, their deep appreciation of your kindness."

Cursiter goes on to give a bleak description of life in the trenches:

"It is difficult to describe what the front really means. One is so apt to think of it as a rather well-defined region ending in a neat barbed-wire entanglement on the edge of 'No Man's Land', where the whole army lives in trenches and dug-outs; instead of which it is mud - mud of all colours and consistencies, of different depths, but always mud. One eats it, drinks it, sleeps in it and it cakes on one's uniform and clothes like a crust. That is the real and lasting impression of the Front which I am sure the greatest number of men will carry with them."

...and he explains exactly why something as basic as socks is such a luxury...

"Of course, where the trenches are flooded, and in the cold weather, the men rub their feet daily, or, at least, as often as possible with whale oil or 'anti-frostbite'; then, after a few days soaking, when the sock is removed, well, it is unsavoury, and an extra pair is a real treasure."

Cursiter signs off by saying that the socks sent are "probably in the actual firing line at the moment". There was a short statement underneath the letter telling readers of The Orcadian that meetings for giving out materials and receiving finished pieces for the soldiers were held at the old library building in Laing Street on Saturday afternoons in the Ladies Room, which I presume did not mean the same thing then as it does today.

I don't know about you, but that letter makes me want to put on my fluffiest, warmest pair of socks and just sit there feeling smug about the situation. Do join in.

Stanley Cursiter's letter can be found in the edition of The Orcadian dated 13th of January 1917.

Are Potential Archives Disappearing?

It looks like the 2011 census may be the last time that statistical information is collected from the British public in the traditional way. Apparently, it will cost around £482 million which does seem like quite a lot.

I suspect that, as an archives worker, I should be horrified by this news but, if the same kind of information is being collected cheaply from the myriad other databases of information that now exist, maybe it will not make a huge difference to archives of the future?

Besides, because there is an 100 year closure period on personal information from censuses, we can only inspect up to the 1901 census which was carried out by enumerators who went around houses and interviewed the inhabitants. The last few censuses were just dropped off to be filled in by people themselves and there is no telling what nonsense and mistakes they contain.

In 2001, for instance, several Star Wars fans put down 'Jedi' as their religious affiliation in an effort to see it officially recognized as a faith. Perhaps the new proposed methods will be more accurate.

What worries us here is emails. Yes, they are speedy and wonderful and we are no technophobes; technology has made cataloguing and finding archives so much easier, but vast swathes of our correspondence is disappearing. People delete emails and indeed entire email accounts and all of those letters are gone forever. The press were ridiculing Tony Blair and Gordon Brown for being slow to cotton on to electronic mail a few years ago but at least we know that their papers will eventually be available for posterity.

The Balfour collection, Margaret Tait's papers and the hundreds of deposits made by the public are full of exciting, heart-breaking, furious, funny and passionate letters which can provide a clear view of contemporary life on the day that they were written.

Will we still be reading emails, blogs and websites from today in three hundred years time? Am I perhaps the millionth person to have made this, by now quite tired, point?

Happy Canada Day!

O Canada, not only have you brought us Bryan Adams, Wayne's World and Alanis Morisette's hair in this picture but you are the home of several Orcadians who answered articles such as this:

This advert dates from the mid-twentieth century but Orcadians had been travelling to 'the Nor-Waast' for years. The Hudson Bay Company ships stopped at Stromness before continuing up into the frozen North and often picked up some hardy Orcadians who were known for being hard-working and for being able to stand harsh weather conditions.

Indeed, sometimes theses recruitments were fairly last minute and families found themselves waving off a son or brother for many months, even years, with very little preparation. We found this letter signed 'Ye ken wha', written to a Miss Wishart expressing surprise ("I wis fair dumfoonered"), at the news that she is to marry another and move out to the "Nor Wast" very soon. He is especially shaken as "thou minds thou proposed tae mesel' nae sae very lang syne."

A second letter follows where he urges his correspondent to accept the offer of marriage as he doesn't want her to end up "spendin' a' thee days i' a garret in the company of a cat...dinna thou let ony precious time ging by."

These letters and others were looked out for the Homecoming celebrations that were put on for many North American visitors by the Orkney Family History Society in May 2007. The society worked tirelessly beforehand to investigate the roots of many of the visitors and there were a lot of reunions with distant relations in living rooms and kitchens and pubs across Orkney.

Letters, Lovely Letters, Part 2.

Yet another delightful epistle from overseas this morning. This card is from Norway and not only contains a tiny painted square by an ex-mariner but the stamps have flowering rosemary and chillis on them.

 Do other countries actually have nicer stamps than ours or do they just seem exotic because they're foreign?

A Letter From Canada

A common question from our overseas family history researchers is 'why did my ancestors leave Orkney?' The question is answered in part by this letter written in 1863 by William Cromarty, inhabitant of Langly, British Columbia, Canada to his brother in Stromness, Magnus Cromarty.

At first reading, one's initial reaction is, why did William stay in Canada, as he seems to be having such a terrible time.

The letter begins with William telling his brother that two of his children, girls aged 12 and 16, have died. It seems that the girls went swimming  and came back complaining of 'Bely acke' which soon developed into 'Desentry or Bludy Flux.' The oldest girl died after one month's sickness and 12 days later, the younger sister died of 'crupe in the throat' after infecting her mother.

This tragedy is further compounded by somebody breaking into the house whilst William's wife and daughters are sick and stealing seven sovereigns from his chest. William admits that he may have blamed his extremely ill and bed-ridden wife for letting this happen and she has 'got offended' and 'went away in a funk' over four months ago.

'Surely that is it', you think, but no; there is more. William's children are in charge of feeding his cattle but the winter has been so cold that the water troughs froze over. The children 'neglected to Bracke the ice' and 14 of William's cows died.

He goes on to complain about how very expensive provisions are and says that his 16 year old daughter is his company now but, as there are few women in Langly, she will soon be snapped up as a wife.

The amazing thing is that William does not seem at all sorry for himself and indeed confesses himself to be 'surprised' that Magnus is too afraid to come to Canada. He tells his brother about his two claims of land; one is under his name, the other is being kept aside for his son.

'I have got plenty to eat and drink and I am always in my owen bed at night and can save a little tou', he says. It seems that owning your own land and lying down under a roof that belonged to you was worth a great deal to men like William who would undoubtedly have rented a tiny piece in Orkney along with the vast majority of the population.

Life was tough in Canada, but it was tough in Orkney too. The hardiness that living in an Orcadian climate brought is the reason that so many Orcadians were engaged to work in Canada by the Hudson bay Company. See? Everyone who lives here is hard as nails! Grrrrrrrrrrrr! We'll cut ya!

(We won't at all, we'll probably shower you with tea and scones and say 'fine' a lot.)

Reference D1/27/1

Letters, lovely letters...

One of the most delightful parts of this job is making connections with people all over the world. We communicate with people in Canada, The U.S. and Australia frequently and it is always a thrill to know that your words are being read (or heard) thousands of miles away, across an ocean and on another continent.

I particularly like when people write a little note about where they are from with a pen, on paper or card. (Emails are great, but nothing beats a proper letter.) We did an enquiry for a gentleman in Prague a couple of years ago who sent us beautiful postcards of the view from his window and always ended with a weather update. He was interested in island postmarks and stamps and his letters always wore gorgeous examples of them.

We have been sent bookmarks of landscapes from Australia, exquisite written enquiries from County Durham and today we received this lovely card from Japan.

George Mackay Brown is very popular in Japan and his work is gradually being translated into Japanese. The translator was in touch when working on his poetry collection 'Following A Lark' and writes in the card that they are 'as happy as a lark!' to have finished. We also received word that the cherry blossoms are in full bloom in Japan at the moment. Lovely.

My oh my, It's a windy windy day!*

The wind has been howling through the cracks in our building all day and making its usual scary ghost noises. Stationary cars are wobbling like blancmanges and the Highway Maintenance vans are out in force, shovelling errant driveway gravel back in its place. One can achieve a temporary face lift by walking directly into the wind.

Ferries have been cancelled, forcing some of our customers to put off a visit, but spare a thought for poor James Leask writing to his cousin, Henry of Boardhouse, in 1832 (see above). He was windbound in Stromness for 19 DAYS.

Letter reference D1/182/1/25

*Everyone remembers Bob singing 'Windy Day' on Sesame Street surely?

2 Hearts... 2 Hearts that beeeaaaat as one... Our Lives Have Just Be-gun...

Whether you are enjoying a romantic meal for two on the 14th of February or staying in alone to shake your fist at the world, the fact is, on Sunday, it is St Valentine's day.

Pictured above is a Valentine's card sent to Miss Jane Grieve of Elwick, Shapinsay in 1849. It seems to be anonymous and merely contains a pre-printed poem.

Image reference D1/696