Going on a summer holiday? 3: Turbulent times

This summer, we’re following young architect William Harris’ trip around Europe, which began in 1821. He left Dover in the company of two friends and travelled to Calais, where he witnessed the celebrations for Corpus Christi. From there, he and Mr Brooks took a leisurely route to Paris. Although William arrived in the city early in July, he only had time to send a quick note to his father to assure him that they were well. We catch up with him on 23 July, when he’d found time in his busy schedule to write a longer letter home.

After the note he sent home on 2 July, William Harris began to feel ‘no little anxiety’ that he had not heard from his father for a full 15 days, nor from his sister for 14 days. The long awaited missive arrived on 15 July, delayed, apparently, by his father’s equally busy schedule! ‘Really, my dear Father, you must endeavour to spare time to let me hear from you a little more frequently’ William admonished, eager to hear ‘any news from Old England’. Sadly, we don’t have any of William Harris Senr.’s replies to his son in the deed box, but this letter is only the third of twelve, so there’s still a long way for William (and for us) to go!

Once he had settled into his lodgings in Paris, William began his errands in the city which, he said, possessed ‘so many points of attraction’. One interesting ‘commission’ he was sent with was to locate a mysterious ‘Madame Crowe’ on behalf of one Mr Jackson. The information relating to this woman in the letter is sparse, except that she was a married woman and probably ‘not residing in furnished lodgings’. In any case, William reported with some disappointment that he had been unable to locate her, concluding

“In all probability therefore, Madame Crowe does not wish her whereabouts to be discovered as she had given no number in a street a full half a mile long.”

Considering the upheaval in France from the fall and two exiles of Napoleon, with the involvement of the European Coalition to restore the Bourbon monarchy, Paris was perhaps one of the easiest places in Europe to stay hidden at this time.

Malmaison

Le Temple de ‘Amour, Malmaison (HJ PC:301)

Aside from commissions from friends and acquaintances, William’s main reason for travelling through Europe appears to have been to take in objects of art and architecture, for which the small group visited Malmaison on 19 July. This chateau was ‘a favourite retreat of the late Emperor’s and the Empress Josephine’; Josephine had bought the estate while Napoleon was in Egypt, with the expected proceeds of that campaign. She spent years and a small fortune restoring the chateau and its gardens as well as creating a menagerie which roamed free through the grounds. After her divorce from Napoleon in 1810, Josephine kept the chateau until her death in 1814. William recalled his father often telling him:

“the frowning of Paris on the very mentioned of which [Malmaison] is infamous…”

Of course, it wasn’t just France which was going through difficult times politically; there was a good reason why William wanted all of the news from old England. He noted his whereabouts on 19 July 1821 for a good reason: it was the date of King George IV’s coronation, after the death of the mad King George III in 1820. George IV had been Prince Regent during periods of his father’s incapacitating illnesses, although he had largely left the role of governance of the country to his politicians. While the coronation of the new King appeared didn’t appear to threaten any crisis, there was drama on the day due to George IV’s difficult relationship with his wife.

George_IV_coronation_banquet

Coronation banquet of George IV by an unknown artist, c.1821

Having been married in 1795, reluctantly, to Princess Caroline of Brunswick, the Prince Regent’s marriage quickly ran into difficulty. After the birth of their only child, Princess Charlotte, the royal couple separated in 1796. Queen Caroline went to live on the continent in 1814, but at her husband’s coronation in 1821 she decided to return to London to assert her rights. William noted:

We hear that everything went off quietly in London with the exception of a few broken windows and that the Queen applied for admission at the doors of the [Westminster] Abbey and was refused”

George refused to recognise Caroline as Queen, and made efforts to ensure that European monarchs did likewise. Although he tried to divorce her and later to annul the marriage, these efforts proved unpopular with the public. In the end, the marriage ended quietly: Caroline became ill on the day of the coronation and died on 7 August, with some rumours that she had been poisoned. William’s brief note of the incidents on coronation day suggest that he, at least, had little interest in the quarrels of the royal family. In any case, his excitement about his trip around Europe was far more important.

News of the coronation reaches William in Paris

William was not the only architect who had left Britain to experience the culture and art of the rest of Europe; as well as his friend Mr. Brooks, with whom he had travelled from Dover, a Mr Angell joined them on their onward journey from Paris to Rome. William wrote:

“He is a young man of good sense and possesses a zeal for his profession without which something is a mere dead letter.”

The band of architects sound more like serious professional scholars than a gap year party, but then it’s likely that William would have wanted to impress the seriousness of his enterprise onto his father who was paying his bills.’Living at Paris and travelling expenses are so much higher than I had at all imagined’ he complained in his letter;

“and with every endeavour to keep [expenses] as low as possible, I find that they have exceeded my proposed expenditure a full third”

Even so, he assured his father that the costs would drop once they left the capital, although ‘the French are always on the alert to overcharge an Englishman’. It was not, he insisted, the pursuit of luxury which had cause this spending;

“nor do I imagine I could spend a single franc less consistent with any thing like comfort or respectability were I to recommence my journey tomorrow’

William’s letter from Paris

William evidently thought of his family at home frequently during his time away; his father, mother, sister, Mr Evans and ‘Jane’ are mentioned in every letter. This letter also mentions another member of the family;

“I am sorry to hear poor Dick has been obliged to undergo an operation.”

As I was transcribing the letter, I thought that sounded interesting; who was Dick? Probably not a member of the immediate family, but perhaps a servant or someone close enough to the Harris family that they had ensured he got the operation which he needed? Leaving aside the difficulties of nineteenth century surgery, I thought that this would give an intriguing insight into a gentleman’s relationship with his dependants. In some ways, it does, but not quite as I was expecting. William goes on:

“It would be perhaps be as well to avoid taking him over the stones as much as possible. He is an excellent little horse but tis a pity he has not a lighter vehicle to draw…”

So there you go, the Harris family were very close to their horses! William goes on to advise his father on how to deal with Dick’s lameness, with as much interest as if he was a long-term servant of the family.

“[I’m sorry to hear that] poor Dick has been obliged to undergo an operation”

The small band of architects intended to leave Paris on 31 July and continue their journey via Compiegne, Rheims, Dijon, Lyons, Nismes and then reach Geneva. The itinerary was not fixed;

“at the first mentioned places our stay will be uncertain and will be regulated by the interest they excite.”

And while he was racing around Europe, William was eager to stay in touch with his friends and family at home;

“If yourself or my sister could possibly find time to write to me immediately on the receipt of this by the very next bag…”

“…by the very next bag…”

Sending off his tightly packed, overwritten letter back home, William presumably went off to enjoy his last week in Paris, and to gather some more anecdotes to tell in his next letters. It’s just a lucky coincidence that these letters have survived nearly 200 years so that we can share his excitement today.

William’s letter from Paris and related archival materials will be on display in the Templeman foyer for a limited time only! Pop in to have a look and learn more, including why Lord Byron was causing a stir in Paris in 1821.

 

Going on a summer holiday? 2: I write in haste

It’s been a while since I updated you about William Harris Esq.’s continental exploits in 1821. As you may remember, he set out from Dover after having explored the castle and travelled to Calais in the company of two friends in June. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that he had arrived safely at Paris by the beginning of July.

William and his friend Mr Brooks were staying at a William Hunter’s residence on rue de Sevres, in the St Germain district of the city. William Harris wrote to his father on 2 July to ask that his father might ‘inform Mrs. Adams and Mrs. Brooks of the Strand’ of Mr. Brook’s safe arrival. William added

“[Mr Brooks] had been so much engaged this morning he has not had time to finish a letter he had begun but he will take care to write in a day or two”

It seems that William was the more likely of the two to write home; in any case, a swift letter was the speediest method of communication in 1821. William comments on the end of his note that he had just received his father’s “kind letter (no. 1)”: this leaves a gap of just 8 days between his sending from Calais and receiving his father’s reply. I have to say I thought this wasn’t bad by modern standards!

William's letter from St Germain

William’s letter from St Germain

Paris in 1821 was still gripped by the instability of the political swings from the Napoleonic, in 1815, to the accession of Louis-Phillippe as king in 1830. During this time, Britain had formed part of a European coalition which restored the Bourbon monarchy, by military force, to a constitutional role. The monarchy was not consistently popular and after the second fall of Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815; although the government was elected to work alongside the Bourbons the two institutions did not always work together. Shifting political strengths throughout the decade of the 1820s must have made Paris an interesting place to be. The medieval city was still largely in existence, too; it was not demolished to make way for Haussmann’s vision of a modern city until the mid nineteenth century. It would have been a very different place to the modern tourist centre.

Of course, travel in the nineteenth century was never a straightforward or safe affair, as we’ll find out later in William’s journey. But for the time being, I will leave you with his brief note, in anticipation of the Parisian adventure to follow.

William's letter from St. Germain

William’s letter from St. Germain

 “I would have said more but the boy is just ready.”

Drop into the Templeman foyer to have a look at the original letter on display with a rare example of a nineteenth century passport.

Going on a summer holiday? 1: Dover to Calais

So here is the summer, or what counts for it in Britain, anyway. Are you planning your holidays, looking forward to reading a good book on a long sandy beach, exploring new places or simply relaxing by the pool? Or are you stuck at your desk, wondering whether the sunshine is going to last? Well, wherever you are, spare a thought for the tourist of the early nineteenth century, for whom just crossing the Channel was a three hour voyage.

We’ve recently been lucky enough to have a volunteer who willingly trawled through a deed box containing nineteenth century papers, known by the mysterious name of ‘The Hansard Family Deed Boxes’. Among the assorted gems contained within are a series of letters written in 1821 by William Harris to his father (another William Harris) in London, while he toured around Europe. There are around a dozen letters extant in this Hansard Family Deed boxcollection, many tightly written and over-written, with William junior filling up every available space on the paper. So even if you’re not off anywhere this summer, join us for an adventure across Europe, nineteenth-century style!

William’s first letter is a sort of extended postcard, in which he details his journey from Dover to Calais with the breathless excitement of an enthusiastic explorer. At Dover, William (Junr.) took in the castle, the ‘souterrains’ or tunnels and the western heights. The castle he found rather underwhelming, “contains nothing admirable in point of architecture”, but he was evidently fascinated by the “many excellent contrivances for… defence” in the tunnels. These he described as “immense”, adding:

they were 11 years in [use] and discontinued only at the general peace – containing barracks etc. etc. to an amazing extent – all concealed from the view of an enemy and made bomb proof.

The Napoleonic Wars had ended only 6 years prior to his visit, when space had been needed for 2000  extra soldiers and supplies to guard the port. To date, these tunnels at Dover remain the only underground barracks in Britain.

First page of William's letter

The first page of William’s letter

In Dover, William met his friend Mr. Brooks, who had persuaded his friend Mr. I Winckworth to accompany them to Boulogne. William told his father, “this is very fortunate for us – Mr. W. having visited France before”. Despite being new to the cross-channel voyage, William described it as “a most delightful passage”, he and his friends having escaped the “dreadful malady” which most of the other passengers suffered. At Calais, he related how the three men and their baggage had been searched at the Customs House for any “contraband merchandise”, and their passports had been exchanged for temporary documents. He explained: “The passport obtained in England will be forwarded on and meet us again at Paris.”

Although they had hoped to stay at Meurice’s Hotel, they group ended up lodging at the Hotel Dessin, immortalised in Lawrence Sterne’s A Sentimental Journey through France and Italy. Sterne (under the pseudonym Mr. Yorick) undertook this journey in 1765, although the book was not published until he was on his deathbed. Perhaps more famous than this was Sterne’s The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, yet Sterne’s travel piece helped to established the genre of travel writing and emphasised the importance of the personal, or sentimental, point of view. William noted “his name is written on the door of the chamber he occupied” – an early example of celebrity culture!

Sterne's 'A Sentimental Journey'

Title page of Sterne’s ‘A Sentimental Journey’, 1768

We occupy three apartments on the ground floor looking into an open court laid out as a flower garden – quite out of the noise of the street – the only approach to it being through the outer court into which the carriages enter under an archway – this I am told is the usual style[?] of a French Hotel – the garden is ornamented with statues and vases.

William Harris Junr., June 24 1821

William was evidently concerned at the level of Englishness which the foreign metropolis of Calais might provide. In the event, he was relieved to find that the town “presents a great many English characteristics”, and commented that his hotel had “adopted many good English customs”. One thing which was less familiar, however, was the Fête de Dieu, known in England as Corpus Christi, the Catholic celebration of the Eucharist. William wrote “there is to be a grand procession here at 11 o’clock this morning”, then resumed his letter at midday to describe the events to his father:

We have just witnessed the procession of the Fête de Dieu. The streets are hung with…carpets and white linen. The pavements thrown with rushes and a few flowers – white flags are suspended from the windows which are filled with well dressed women. A company of ‘Pompiers’ or Fire men who wear a military costume precede the procession with a band which is followed by priests with a portable canopy for the…principle and an amazing number of girls dressed in white. The priests halt at intervals and chaunt opposite temporary altars decked out with pictures, flowers and a great deal of finery. At our Hotel they had a superb one.

The Fete de DieuFollowing this excitement, William had little to comment upon but the weather, which he advised was “much the same as in England.”

The group planned to travel to Paris via Boulogne, Amiens and Beauvais; William advised his father to write to him at Paris, addressing his letters to “William Harris, Architect, Paris”; apparently architects were few and far between in the capital! With a sensible logic, William numbered his letter ‘1’ and asked his father to do the same with each one he sent, so that they could both work out which had been sent first if they all arrived at once.

Ending his letter with love to his mother and sister, kindest regards to Mr. Evans and “compliments to enquiring friends”, William intended to send his letter via first mail to England the following day. Since it is included in this small collection, we can assume that it reached its intended destination.

William HarrisThis one letter can tell us so much about nineteenth century attitudes towards travel, realities of tourism and the differences between France and England. But as much as anything if, like me, you like to do some armchair travelling, then these accounts provide an intriguing account of taking a holiday nearly 200 years ago.

And what happened next? Keep checking the blog to find out!

You can see William’s letter, a copy of A Sentimental Journey and some other travelling treasures on display in the Templeman Library foyer – but only for a limited time.

I’d like to say a special thank you to Marjolijn Verbrugge for her enthusiastic hard work on these papers and for beginning to  illuminate the mysteries within them!

Another term over…

It feels like time is rushing by more and more quickly: suddenly we’ve come to the end of another term! In some ways, it’s been a long time since Christmas – one exhibition, one lecture, several seminars, a new microfilm service and new plans hatching for the next academic year. Looking back on it all, as ever, I begin to wonder how we managed to fit it all in!

Title page of a script for Barnaby Rudge by Charles Selby, 1841

Title page of a script for Barnaby Rudge by Charles Selby, 1841

Well, we’re very proud of the Dickens exhibition – if you haven’t been do make the effort and let us know what you think by writing in the comments book. Webpages for the Dickens Collection are still under construction – their progress is being slowed a little by other commitments, but they’re getting there! The Dickens display case in the entrance hall has now been refilled with Rudyard Kipling materials; do take a look at this if you get the chance. We have several first editions of Kipling’s work in our Modern First Editions Collection, including the pamphlet containing two previously unpublished Christmas letters from Kipling to young readers, generously donated by David Alan Richards through Dr. Kaori Nagai.

It was a great pleasure to welcome the University’s Melodrama Research Group into Special Collections this term and to discuss the possibilities of future research projects based on the Melville and Boucicault Collections. Lecture two in our three part series, given by Dr. Charlotte Sleigh at the Cathedral, was well attended and thoroughly enjoyed by all – we hope to purchase Dr. Sleigh’s new book ‘Frog‘ for the collection.

Image of a church porch from the W.B. Muggeridge Collection

Image of a church porch from the W.B. Muggeridge Collection

Of course, the day-to-day work is continuing apace, with the invaluable support of our small team of volunteers who are investigating various collections in our care. One of these is the Hendrie Collection, research notes by Andrew Hendrie, who completed his PhD ‘Coastal Command, 1939-1945 : the Cinderella service‘ at the University in 2004 and later published this as a book. The collection is full of interesting and moving anecdotes from Second World War pilots across the world, and we have just begun to catalogue it. More news on this soon, we hope! Work on the Renfrew Collection is gradually edging towards public access, too and we hope to complete some cataloguing on the Donald Muggeridge Rural Collection in the next few months.

On top of that, there are some germs of ideas including colloqia, Twitter feeds and online payments which we will be investigating throughout the next year. Still to come, of course, are two more Dickens exhibitions and no doubt a summer getting involved in research while hopefully carrying on with our cataloguing and digitisation plans.

So that’s all for the next term, and the next year. For the time being, as we await the launch (in our very own reading room) of sixteen books self-published by the sixteen students of The Book Project module, we would like to wish you all a very happy, peaceful and relaxing Easter.

As ever, if you have any queries, please do get in touch.