Business as usual: correspondence from the Bright Family Papers

Nell Ustundag (PhD Candidate in the School of Historical and Philosophical Studies at the University of Melbourne)

Nothing is quite like handling and reading original hand-written correspondence. Letters, particularly those written by hand, are intimate, tangible evidence of relationships between and amongst people; autobiographical evidence of the perspectives and lives of their writers. Most people cherish and collect letters received, yet in today’s overly digital world, the craft of letter writing has given way to email correspondence – emails are editable beyond compare, and instantly gratifying, sent and received in timeframes unimaginable to earlier generations. I myself still struggle to come to terms with the fact that I can write to my twin brother in Washington DC and receive a response within seconds.

The letter that forms the subject of this blog post was written from Bristol, England in September 1815, by L&R (Lowbridge and Richard) Bright, and is one of many letters in the Bright Family Papers held in the University of Melbourne Archives.  This letter – addressed to JC Pownall Esq., in Jamaica – provides an interesting window both into both the commercial correspondence and legal rhetoric of the early 19th century. The quality of legal vernacular, used by the letter’s authors in an accomplished manner, immediately impressed me. The subject of the letter is that of a number of debts and the terms for their repayment and settlement. JC Powell Esq appears to be a lawyer representing the interests of someone at odds with the author, perhaps the debtee, a Mr W Anderson. There seems to be a debtor’s triangle with Mr Patterson and L&R Bright both owed money by Anderson, who owns a property called Bryants Hill, against which debts have been secured and mortgaged. Clearly, there are complicated commercial relationships at play.

Letter to JC Pownall Esq., Jamaica, September 1815, University of Melbourne Archives, Bright Family Collection, 1980.0075.01170
Letter to JC Pownall Esq., Jamaica, September 1815, University of Melbourne Archives, Bright Family Collection, 1980.0075.01170

The structure of the letter, I found entertaining, although I had the uneasy feeling that the authors were both intelligent and cunning. The authors begin by thanking the addressee for the ‘esteem’d favour’ of a previous letter and the family’s ‘full approbation’ of the proposed settlement. After summarising the terms of both debts, L&R Bright turn to points their ‘party’ would like added to the settlement. They refer to the apparent delinquency, or lack of punctuality, in repayments to date, as well as the age of  Mr Anderson (the debtee) and the possibility of his decease.

Letter to JC Pownall Esq., Jamaica, September 1815, University of Melbourne Archives, Bright Family Collection, 1980.0075.01170
Letter to JC Pownall Esq., Jamaica, September 1815, University of Melbourne Archives, Bright Family Collection, 1980.0075.01170

L&R Bright’s tone suddenly changes when they emphasise how much their party has already provided, particularly in the form of  ‘consenting to such remote instalments’, as well as to the fact that they had already counselled Anderson to make arrangements for repayments in the past.  There is no mistaking the full strength of L&R Bright as businessmen, and by the final few paragraphs, they are advising the lawyer about an appropriate course of action to further secure both debts (one owing to them and another to Mr Patterson).

Scattered throughout the letter, are comments, or perhaps threats, regarding the importance of avoiding the Law or Court proceedings. Similar to sentiments today, the more appealing and amicable method of conflict resolution in the early nineteenth century was to settle out of court.

Letter to JC Pownall Esq., Jamaica, September 1815, University of Melbourne Archives, Bright Family Collection, 1980.0075.01170
Letter to JC Pownall Esq., Jamaica, September 1815, University of Melbourne Archives, Bright Family Collection, 1980.0075.01170

This letter and the others in the Bright Collection, would be of interest to people interested in a range of topics, including Jamaican history, early 19th Century Caribbean business and economic history, slavery, and of course, the Bright family.

Having read the letter several times, I wonder how the correspondence continues and concludes. Would the repayment schedule continue? Do L&R Bright get paid? I am curious about the episodes yet to unfold in the Bright family saga – what happens after Richard Bright inherits the Meyler estates in Jamaica in 1818? How will the inheritance disputes with the Meyler family end? What happens to the estates as a result of the forthcoming abolition of the slave trade and subsequent years of economic decline in Jamaica and the Caribbean? So many questions might be addressed by further readings of the many items in this wonderful archive.

 

 


Textual personalities: the letters of Mary and Dorothy Bright

Francesca Kavanagh (PhD Candidate in English and Literature in the University of Melbourne School of Culture and Communications)

The Bright family papers comprise one of the most significant collections of artefacts pertaining to Jamaican and English trade in the mid- to late-eighteenth century held in Australia. Housed in the University of Melbourne Archives, this collection has been of use to scholars primarily for its extensive information into the commercial and investment interests of two trading families, the Brights and the Meylers, across Britain and the West Indies (Morgan 119). However, two sets of letters from Mary Bright (to her son Allen) and Dorothy Bright (to her brother Lowbridge), and their material qualities as documents, provide fascinating insight into the lives of the Bright women and their textual personalities, as well as the difficulties inherent in digitising correspondence.

As preserved documents, the women’s letters are riddled with textual and physical interruptions – shifts in orientation from vertical to horizontal writing, folds in the paper, and the imposition of a wax seal – which obscure and highlight their correspondence.

Figure 1 Front and back pages of Dorothy Bright's letter dated 26 September 1794 with evidence of wax seal, shifts in orientation and run-on postscript.
Figure 1 Front and back pages of Dorothy Bright’s letter dated 26 September 1794 with evidence of wax seal, shifts in orientation and run-on postscript.

Mary’s letters vary in size and often change orientation after the first page. Dorothy’s letters, by contrast, are more uniform, with only the postal address sitting perpendicular to the main text, studiously enclosed and framed by the final page of her narrative. There are also moments in Dorothy’s letters when, in an effort to save paper, her words break ranks; she crams calculations into one corner and her final signoff into the other, separating them with a faint line. In the letter dated 26 September 1794, the postscript flows over onto the cover, obscuring her previously neat, formal address.

Both women employ informal grammar structures, which enable them to shift between subjects, interrupting their previous topic, in a flow of text which runs endlessly down the page. In the place of full stops and paragraph breaks, they rely heavily on commas (Mary) or semicolons (Dorothy). These interruptions can provide insight into the role of these two women in the economic activities of the Bright family when they insert issues of business or finance into the domestic concerns of everyday life. As when Dorothy slips the following between a discussion of social visits and a delivery of candles: “I will attend to all the particular instructions you gave in your last; I have not as yet seen Price; or any of the parties mention’d; & will endeavour to get any information in my pow=er concerning the Inclosure you are so much inter=ested about;” Here, as in other letters, issues of business or inheritance are underlined, signalling both a shift in subject and something critical or secretive about the content. This quote also demonstrates Dorothy’s use of semicolons, double-hyphens for words which break across lines, and a loose “&”, which looks almost like the modern “+”, to signify “and.”

Figure 5 A wax seal
Figure 5 A wax seal

The written narratives of the letters are also carelessly interrupted by their materiality: the wax seal, for instance, frequently tears the middle of each letter replacing words at the edge of the page with those from the inner margins. Yet both women’s desire to fill the space of the letter is such that they consistently write in the areas where the seal will inevitably remove or obscure their meaning. The folding of the letters to form their own envelopes with the lines and shading which result from this practice emphasises the three-dimensionality of the original object – not unlike an origami fortune teller, or Rubik’s cube. The disclosure of the letter’s contents therefore becomes a series of unfoldings that can be contrasted to the endless scrolling of our twenty-first-century screen-based communications.

Figure 6 Using basic digital techniques to replace dislocated text.
Figure 6 Using basic digital techniques to replace dislocated text.

Digital reproductions and archived storage of these letters necessarily flatten the three-dimensionality of these folded artefacts and their textual interruptions. In the archive and digital space they are transformed from personal and tactile objects into dislocated fragments that require the reader to move between them rather than through the letter, thus breaking the flow created by the different writers’ textual styles. As such, the digital image creates new interruptions in these letters. However, digital images also enable us to see the effects of the interruptions more clearly and to attempt to recover the lost meaning, for example, by replacing the text dislocated by the seal. The greater access provided by digitisation also creates an opportunity for wider scholarship to shed light on the accumulation of personality effects in this correspondence and thus to analyse the ways in which the women’s letters embody gendered and domestic aspects of the Bright family’s social and economic history.

 

References and Notes

Morgan, Kenneth. ‘The Bright Family Papers.’ Archives (00039535) 22.97 (1997): 119–129.

Francesca Kavanagh is a PhD Candidate in English and Literature in the University of Melbourne School of Culture and Communications. Her particular research interests include eighteenth- and nineteenth-century women’s writing, correspondence and reading practices. Her approach to the translation of Mary and Dorothy’s letters is from a semi-diplomatic stance.

In regards to quotes, she has attempted to replicate the writing styles of Mary and Dorothy Bright as accurately as possibly by maintaining original spelling, capitalisation, and grammar, however, due to the change of format and limitations of word processing, punctuation may appear differently to the original, such as using “=”to indicate a double-dash line break in the middle of the line.


A Medieval Beetle in the Rare Books Collection

Eight-legged flying beetle with antlers While much is known about the cultural depiction of beetles in the Classical period and during the Renaissance, much less is known about the cultural representation and meaning of beetles during the Middle Ages. This may be beginning to change with the contemporary digitisation of illuminated manuscripts, books and artworks, and the development of online translators, translations and dictionaries, which are providing new methodologies for analysis and interpretation.

Recently I came across a drawing of an eight-legged flying beetle with antlers in the Baillieu Library’s Hortus Sanitatis (1491)[1], or Garden of Health, which I was able to compare with digitised copies located in other international collections[2]. The beetle is categorised in the section ‘Tractatus De Avibus’ (Treatise on Birds) and is displayed alongside other fantastic drawings like that of a man lying naked in a field being attacked by hornets and that of a myrmecoleon or ant-lion.

A man being attacked by hornetsOn close inspection the drawing in the Hortus appears to be a rudimentary sketch of the European stag beetle (Lucanus cervus). Stag beetles are named after their large antler-like mandibles. Only the males possess these horns and use them to joust with other males in territorial disputes. Stag beetles live in forests, woodlands, hedges and gardens, but they are currently listed as a protected species in the United Kingdom and are thought to have disappeared from certain parts of Western Europe on account of environmental changes and habitat destruction.

A myrmecoleon or ant-lionBy modern standards the beetle-drawing in the Hortus is anatomically incorrect in a number of respects. The beetle has no antennae. It lacks a meso-thorax. It has eight legs rather than six, which technically makes it an arachnid, and its feet are cloven rather than clawed or hooked with tarsi. Having noted these anatomical errors, the stag beetle is identifiable with regards to its brown colouring, spectacular antlers, and general shape. Together with the accompanying textual description, it offers invaluable insights into how Europeans thought about insects towards the end of the Middle Ages:

‘A flying beetle is similar in style to the cricket. They fly towards night and make a waspish noise. He has long horns that are medicinal, [and] those horns be bright and branched like teeth. The head may be taken off yet it [moves not] long without the body. The body without the head [moves] but not so long as the head’[5].

Text describing the stag beetleChristopher Harrington

PhD candidate

School of Communication

University of Melbourne

Interested in finding out more?

Read about the Baillieu Library’s copy of Hortus Sanitatis in the University of Melbourne Collections magazine.

Browse the digitised version online

Endnotes

[1] Hortus sanitatis. [Mainz : Jacob Meydenbach, 23 June 1491].  UniM Bail SpC/RB MTC/20 Incunabula

[2] These include the Linda Hall Library in Kansas City, Missouri, one of the world’s pre-eminent science and technology libraries.

[3] Lister, Martin. Historiae Animalum Angliae. Londini : Apud Joh. Martyn Regiæ societatis typographum, 1678.  Digital version available at http://lhldigital.lindahall.org/cdm/ref/collection/nat_hist/id/22115.

[4] Merian, Maria Sibylla. Metamorphasibus Insectorum Surinamensium. Tot Amsterdam, Voor den auteur…, als ook by Gerarde Valck, [1705].  Digital version available at http://lhldigital.lindahall.org/cdm/ref/collection/nat_hist/id/1049.

[5] Hortus sanitatis.

Full page image from the 'Tractacus de Avibus'


“Single men from Scotland keenly sought”

“Single men from Scotland are keenly sought” writes James Butchart to his father on his arrival in Port Phillip, where he expects his exercise of the three virtues, “patience, prudence and perseverance”, will enable him to thrive. (James Butchart, Melbourne, to father, 15 February 1842, 1990.0083.00005). Recently digitised correspondence reveals the journey of one man from migration to establishment in Victoria. Correspondence to family and friends trace James, aged just 19, from his voyage from Fifeshire, Scotland to Melbourne, where over the course of a decade as he worked his way through various pastoral occupations in Port Phillip.

Butchart was enthusiastic about life in Australia, trying to convince his father to migrate “For the meanest servant in this country would turn up his nose at the style of living which thousands of respectable people are obliged to adopt in the old country”. (James Butchart, Smeaton Hill, to George, 1 February 1845, 1990.0083.00015). Appealing to his sisters Cecilia and Isabella in May 1846 he writes “if you come we will very soon attain independency which I am afraid we never could do in Scotland as things go now” and “I do not suppose there is any place in the world where you can get all the necessaries of life cheaper than you can in Melbourne”.

Butchart worked hard, finding employment in various pastoral capacities until he acquired land for himself and entered into a stock and station agency partnership, Kaye & Butchart. He also ran a successful business in Bourke Street enabling him to build a mansion in Mornington and retire. He died there on 11 Nov. 1869, aged 47.

To access James Butchart’s correspondence use the search term “Butchart” in UMA’s online Digitised Items Catalogue

The James Butchart Collection was digitised through the Russell and Mab Grimwade Miegunyah Fund.


Ballooning, steam and Victorian fantasies

1959.3586-MF

The month of May marks the 150th anniversary of The Great Exhibition of 1851 that took place in Hyde Park, London from 1 May to 11 October. The Victorian-era Great Exhibitions were platforms that launched countless inventions. The newly developed ‘cast plate glass,’ for example, made possible the construction, to a design by Joseph Paxton, of the very building that housed the exhibition, dubbed ‘The Crystal Palace.’ Paxton, also a gardener of renown, based the Crystal Palace on a greenhouse he designed for the recently discovered giant Victoria amazonica waterlily. The Crystal Palace embodied both the Victorian imagination and the greatest offerings of industrial manufacturing. Another new technique promoted at the Exhibition – steel plate engraving – resulted in prints which commemorate the event.

(Above) Samuel Read, The Crystal Palace international exhibition of 1851, (c.1851), etching and engraving, gift of Dr J. Orde Poynton 1959, Baillieu Library Print Collection, University of Melbourne.

1959.3134-MF

Joseph Paxton, The Crystal Palace and Park, 1854, engraving,  Gift of Dr J. Orde Poynton, 1959. Baillieu Library Print Collection, University of Melbourne.

 

At this time the industrial revolution was buoyed both by balloon ascensions and the marvel of steam power. Queen Victoria ascended the throne in 1838 ushering in a distinctive era of art and culture. Manufacturing was not the only thing to be transformed; this was also a time of lofty ambitions and wafting imaginations.

The first manned hot air balloon ascension had taken place in the previous century at the Palace of Versailles in 1783. Jean-Pierre Blanchard’s flight to cross the English Channel soon followed in 1785. Blanchard’s balloon was propelled by the balloonist flapping a pair of oars back and forth, which can be seen depicted in the distant background of the stipple engraving by William Birch. In literature, Jules Verne’s popular novel Five weeks in a balloon (1863) expanded the ambitions of the adventurous to every cloud, mountain and ocean. The Victorians saw in the balloon a vehicle for turning an inflated idea into an innovation. It is interesting note that the first model of propelled balloon was designed by Australian aviator David Bland and was exhibited at the Great Exhibition of 1851.

1959.2403-MF

William Birch after Thomas Rowlandson, Dover Castle, 1789, stipple engraving,  Gift of Dr J. Orde Poynton, 1959, Baillieu Library Print Collection, University of Melbourne.

Another vehicle traversing the sky was the airship. These curious leviathans of the air enabled improved travel, and they began taking over the skies of London during the World Wars. Scotland’s Forth Bridge, itself a monument to the wonder of Victorian engineering, in Lumsden’s etching, is partnered by airships and also the steam train, both elevated into the stratosphere.

 

0000.1155.000.000

 Ernest Stephen Lumsden, Forth Bridge, (1940-46), etching, Baillieu Library Print Collection, University of Melbourne.

The individual who dramatically advanced transport on land was engineer George Stephenson, who enabled the public to travel by steam locomotive for the first time in 1825. The invention of the railways evolved, surprisingly, alongside the sewing machine, which transformed the textile industry and factory work. One memento in the Print Collection capturing these historic developments is an unusual transport souvenir. This piece of textile immortalises Stephenson and his innovations through the medium of machine embroidery; the image was probably adapted from an engraved image.

Unknown artist, Robert Stephenson and rocket locomotive, (19th century), Gift of Dr J. Orde Poynton, 1959. Baillieu Library Print Collection, Uinveristy of Melbourne.

Unknown artist, Robert Stephenson and rocket locomotive, (19th century), Gift of Dr J. Orde Poynton, 1959. Baillieu Library Print Collection, Uinveristy of Melbourne.

The contraptions for ballooning, locomotion and manufacture let fly numerous Victorian fantasies which were captured in print media. These often aerial ambitions enabled the Victorians, at the same time, to soar through industrial advancements.

 

Kerrianne Stone (Curator, Prints)

 


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