A few years back, I had a bit of a setback when an article I'd written on a book about classical myth for young people was rated low because the assessor considered the work of reception I was writing about not to be a very significant one. I was taken aback by this not least as I had written about the book as a moment in reception that opened a window onto Classics as well as in to children's literature and culture at the time when it was written - the 1990s.
It's also a super book in my view that deserves being more 'out there' - not that this is the point here.
This experience has been in my mind as I have been thinking back to the correspondence I wrote about in my previous posting concerning translations of Cervantes. It's been in my mind, too, as I've gone on to read other things - which I'll be writing about as soon as I have the time - that to the best of my knowledge haven't ever been published. As with the 1990s classical myth book that the assessor graded me down for writing about, I am finding these materials a privilege to look at as windows into what people devoted themselves to at a particular point in time.
In copying out some of what is written there, I am wondering whether I am the first to do so while also feeling awkward writing out - or even reading - private correspondence... including - here's the segue - what I read next in the Palace Green library.
I began with the letter to Margaret Headlam dated November 1865 with which I'd ended the previous day: the one sent to where she was staying (living?) in Brighton and beginning as follows:
To say that your last letter is the most painful one that I have received would be but a weak explanation for the extreme sorrow that it causes me [...]
...on what would be a day spent reading letters to Margaret - with one exception, on which more soon.
The author of the letter quotes from Margaret's own letter that has so upset him. So - I found myself looking at her own words for the first time, though not her own handwriting and lacking the context in which her words were written. As far as I could glean, the problem the author has with Margaret seems to be doctrinal. He refers, for instance, to the 'Crown' and the 'Church of England.' And after telling Margaret, 'You are quite welcome to call my observations "vile and vulgar"', he writes on page 3 of his many-paged letter about 'the Royal Supremacy'.
I don't (yet) know what any of this means...
After this, the correspondence that I spent time with was from several years later, in 1871, consisting of letters of condolence to Margaret and her sister Isabella in Whorton after the death of their brother John.
Then, later that year, Margaret receives letters of condolence after Isabella's death. Among these, there is one from D C Cumley, with whom she'd had the letters about Cumley's translations of Cervantes a few decades earlier - and which I'd read the previous day. I found out - as I'd suspected, but I didn't want to assume... - that the author is male: he lets Margaret know that his wife 'joins' him in the sentiments he is expressing about how much Isabella meant to him.
I also read a letter sent shortly afterward, from Jane Cumley (the wife in question? their daughter?) where she encloses a letter addressed 'to Captain Cumley' from Isabella, whose writing I therefore got to see for the first time. I wish I could share it here - but as I've said, I'll need permissions. But just seeing this got me excited.
With my head swimming from all this correspondence - I read many letters in a few hours - I had a needed lunch break with my fellow Barker Fellows in St Chad's. St Chad's is a popular college, that students typically want to join, helped by its proximity to the Cathedral. Here's a photo taken from North Bailey, close to the main entrance to the College:
Then, in the afternoon, I looked at letters to Margaret from 1872 onwards, including one from Whorton to Brighton. The envelope, addressed by an adult, contained letters from two young boys to 'Aunt Mar' dated May 9 1872. The boys, Arthur and James, are - I worked out from the family tree - Arthur Cayley Headlam (1862-1947), who will have been around 10 and James Wycliffe Headlam-Morley (1863-1929), who will have been around 9.
The letters are from boys who seem to be being schooled at home, though possibly in connection with boys who are living nearby. Although they might, I suppose, have been written during school holidays... Both letters talk about athletic competitions arranged for them and neighbouring boys and detail who won and who didn't. One final bit of information given by Arthur is that 'we' - I'm not sure who the 'we refers to: all the boys? just himself and his brother? - 'are seeing how many words we can get out of facetious'.
The letters give a window into the lives and interests of these boys. Arthur says that he 'won nothing' and tells Margaret that 'Lion' (a family dog perhaps I wondered - I now know who Lion must be... but I didn't when I read the letter, so I'll share that information further down the road) is very well, and he remembers you'.
James, who like Arthur thanks Margaret for an invitation to stay with her, lists what he is 'most anxious to see' in London - including the Crystal Palace, Windsor, Eton, St Pauls and what looks like 'the Polytechic'. I'm not sure what this would be...
There is nothing said about any lessons - Classical or otherwise.
Likewise there is nothing about Classics in a letter dated May 5 1873 from The Grange, Wharton, to 'Aunt Mar' from Johnnie, who must be John Emerson Wharton (1864-1945), who will have been around 9 at the time.
This letter spends a lot of time setting out how busy Johnnie has been with various things that delayed him from writing to thank his aunt for a gift she has sent him: school... his father wanting to spend time with him when he was home from school... He mentions his new baby brother 'a fat, healthy little fellow', concerning whom 'we are all glad it is a boy this time'.
As for the gift, a book, Johnnie states that he not started reading it yet because, he says, he has been reading Tales of a Grandfather, a gift from his uncle. I had a quick check. This is a book by Sir Walter Scott recounting Scottish history for children which was popular at the time and key to making history accessible for young people (young male people specifically?). Here's at least one of the covers - sourced from here (publication date of this edition 'unknown'):
Still concerning Johnnie, there was a letter from his father, Morley Headlam, this time, dated March 30th 1878 which includes some information about his son's letters from school that suggest that he is doing well. Again the focus in on sport, with him showing promise - Morley sets out - in Under 14 athletics. Nothing is said about any academic subject, classical or otherwise.
Then the library closed and I made my way back to Newcastle where I wrote a draft of the above before winding down by cooking dinner.
More soon - including where I aim to unpack the significance of the above after veering I think more towards 'showing' rather than 'telling'...
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