Written by Francesca Taylor, National Archives Trainee.
Did you know that before Terry’s Chocolate Orange, there was the Chocolate Apple? Neither did we until we delved into the Borthwick’s Terry’s archives and flicked through an old product brochure from the 1920’s.
The Terry’s ‘Dessert Chocolate Apple’ was made from 1926 before being outshone by the Chocolate Orange, which eventually led to the halt in production of the apple in 1954. Found amongst Terry’s other beautifully illustrated luxury chocolate boxes, the brochure demonstrates how the Chocolate Apple (and the Chocolate Orange) were once seen as special chocolates, perhaps only eaten on special occasions or in the homes of the ‘better off’. The name even suggests that it had a place at the dinner table as a dessert – a world away from how we eat chocolate today; in front of the TV, on the sofa, in bed, or on the way home from school.
Advertisement for the Chocolate Apple and the Chocolate Orange from the Terry’s 1934 product catalogue
In our investigation of the chocolate apple we have seen how something as simple as chocolate can illuminate many different areas of our social history, from dining habits, to attitudes to certain foods. In fact, our research has led to some unexpected forays into the wider history of York – what’s the connection between an apple from the University of York campus and the Chocolate Apple? And what’s the connection between York’s Mansion House and Terry’s?
However, one burning question remains – what on earth did the Chocolate Apple taste like?! To find out, we have organised a special one day event designed to answer this very question! As part of our Opening Up Archives programme of events we invite you to have a peek at the very recipe used to make the apple, as well taste some chocolate inspired by it, courtesy of the York Cocoa House. For a small fee you even have the option of making your very own flavoured chocolate bar!
We hope you can join us to taste the past and discover the power of archives by exploring some of the lesser known areas of York’s history.
‘Unwrapping the Chocolate City – Re-imagining the Chocolate Apple‘ is a joint project between the Borthwick Institute for Archives, York Cocoa House and Mansion House and takes place on 29th September 2013 at Mansion House from 10:30am.
You can read more about the National Archives Trainees’ work at the Borthwick here and here.
One of the most significant periods in Heslington Hall’s history is its occupation by RAF Bomber Command No.4 group from 1940 until 1947. Whilst attempting to reimagine life in the Hall and the village during these tense years of British history, Donald Ward’s Heslington Memories have become our discoveries. And whilst recounting life in the village in these notoriously dark times for the British, writing always with a comfortingly upbeat undertone he sheds some light on Heslington’s ‘War Years’. The anecdotes we have had the fortune of reading show the way servicemen and women, villagers, in Heslington and no doubt villages and towns up and down the country refused to let the tragedies of war weigh too heavily on their outlook, and life went on.
Heslington Hall was thankfully never hit by any bombs during the war, the nearest place that was hit was a house called Spring Villa; we hear that although thankfully there were no fatalities the watchdog had to be put down, and ward remarks ‘I bet it was a Christmas they never forgot, as all the windows were broken and the house was covered in soot’.
Ward was too young at the time to join the RAF himself, but he was still active in village work .He recalls one particular night on fire duty from which we can envisage the tensions and anxiety that would befall a village, especially one with a Bomber Command headquarters through the long nights. The pair were patrolling in front of the Hall when his partner ‘a nervous man’ jumped into him and let out a terrific scream, shouting ‘It got me!!’ .Far from capture by Nazi invaders he had, in Dad’s Army fashion, walked into the head of a horse.
Ward came across other troubles while undertaking another job of transferring the cattle. A problem similarly and frequently encountered by his father who would often receive angry messages from RAF bases requesting him ‘to remove his cows from the runway’, since planes were able neither to take off nor land. After Donald had successfully and without trouble guided his cattle to the golf course, they immediately and frantically broke into a gallop right across the fairways. This was much to the outrage of ‘all associated with golf’ but in these difficult times for everyone they were quite rightly told that ‘There’s a war on and everyone must make sacrifices, even golfers’.
Before the RAF took over during the war the house had been occupied by the 4th Lord and Lady Deramore and Ward describes one particularly amusing scene during a shooting trip. The shoot, at Langwith woods, had stopped for lunch and the Lord Deramore, having taken a walk, noticed that the lavatory of one of only three residents of Langwith, an old lady, had fallen down. She answered his concerned enquiries with a description of a somewhat less effective set up involving a plank of wood between two trees. Deramore was understandably upset by this and on his return home sent his joiner to build her a new lavatory. Upon his return to Langwith he asked how she was finding her new lavatory to which she replied that it was too good to use, so she was keeping her hens in it!
For more on the work of our student interns see Heslington Hall – Country Life and Archiving Ayckbourn
A fellow Intern and I are currently working at the Borthwick Institute for Archives and are putting together an exhibition about the history of Heslington Hall. The building itself has not always been the administrative hub for the university, and it used to be a grand country seat and a family home with extensive and renowned grounds. It was originally constructed in 1568 by Thomas Eynns, the secretary to the Council in the North. The Hall then passed through a number of families, either through purchase or marriage, including the Heskeths, the Yarboroughs/Yarburghs and finally the Deramores. During this long period it encountered a variety of events including its use as the headquarters of Lord Fairfax during the Siege of York in 1644, various structural changes and royal visits. Its usage changed in the 1940s when it became the headquarters of the RAF No. 4 Group, which was part of Bomber Command during the Second World War, where an important number of raids and missions were planned out. It then came into the hands of the Rowntree Social Service Trust in 1955 whose original aim was to turn it into a folk park, before eventually in 1962 it became what we see today; a central part of the university and campus.
Heslington Hall Gardens in Country Life Magazine, 1900
The hall and gardens have been well documented and have often been admired throughout history. This can be demonstrated by its appearance in Country Life Magazine twice – once in 1900 and again in 1913 whilst still a family home and then in 1971 when the university had been built.
In its first appearance in Country Life in 1900, the gardens are praised for “occupy(ing) a notable place in the history of English gardening.” We are given a scenic tour of the grounds, and witness the elegant sculptures and flowers that it contains. The large lake was also a source of pleasure and we can see in the photo someone boating on it. Although we may recognise some elements such as the yew trees, these used to be more extensive and stretched right up to the front of the house and were described as “fantastic yews, unlike anything else ever seen on sea or land”.
The Lake at Heslington Hall, 1900
In the later edition of Country Life published in 1971 the university is now the focus, and the article chronicles the transformation of the landscapes of Heslington Hall from elegant gardens to university campus. It is not critical of this change and describes the new vista as “one of the most original landscapes created in Britain this century has yet to attract the attention it deserves”.
The University of York in Country Life Magazine, 1971
Looking at these articles it is interesting to compare the vastly different ways the landscape around the hall has changed and been adapted. But despite this as you walk around the campus today, you can still make out some of the old elements of the hall and its “garden world of strange character”.
Photograph copyright of Scarborough Theatre Trust/Stephen Joseph Theatre
For two years now, the Borthwick Institute for Archives has been holding the library of Alan Ayckbourn. As the author of over seventy plays, Ayckbourn is one of Britain’s most successful and prolific playwrights. But, whilst Ayckbourn is primarily a writer, he is also known for his work as an educator, a businessman and for many in the arts, as a friend. Over the next eight weeks, we will be delving into personal correspondence, drafted plays and interview transcripts in order to better understand this colossus of the theatre. And indeed, in amongst the audition notes, scribbled stage directions and countless fan letters, we have already begun unearthing surprises that have started to sketch the outline of the life and works of Alan Ayckbourn.
Ayckbourn’s first play ‘The Square Cat’ premiered in 1959 and was followed by over half a century of work during a long and exciting career. A notoriously busy man, Ayckbourn has spent the last fifty years of his professional life dividing his time between the bright lights of London’s West End and the sea-mist drenched cobbles of Scarborough, where he held the position of artistic director at the Stephen Joseph Theatre. But far from epitomising the lonely lot of a playwright, shut up in isolation and feverishly scribbling away, Ayckbourn has proven himself a writer of the people. Within his seventy-something plays there inhabit the voices of countless characters; ink and paper creations that, sharpened with the biting wit of a playwright unafraid to look beneath the covers, have continuously taught their audiences undeniable truth about themselves. Be it negotiating the delicate power balance of marriage, or navigating the comic intricacies of farce, his work has continually reached high acclaim and is not devoid of even the most challenging material. Alan Ayckbourn’s work will often give the members of its audience a slap around the face that will draw laughter and tears in one sitting and inevitably send the tingle of uncomfortable familiarity down their collective spine.
For the Borthwick, perhaps the most exciting aspect of archiving the writing of Alan Ayckbourn is that he is still living and writing. With his latest play premiering in Scarborough next month, Ayckbourn’s vast career is a testament to the growth and development of his own writing craft. Over fifty years in theatre has produced creative partnerships with colleagues such as Andrew Lloyd Webber, Michael Gambon and Prunella Scales, to name but a few. Ayckbourn’s work also extends to the support of children’s theatre, with the playwright linked to youth groups and having written several plays aimed at an underage audience. With an archive as rich in social and contextual history as it is in professional insight, the works of Alan Ayckbourn are already highlighting new and exciting stories from one of Britain’s most revered writers.
Written by Kerstin Doble, National Archives Trainee.
Paintings in an archive? I was surprised to find 17 portraits of young women nestling in the Rowntree company archive here at the Borthwick Institute. I previously worked for Tate Gallery, organising art exhibitions, and joined the archives sector expecting to be immersed in a landscape of mostly paper and parchment documents. It’s been intriguing to encounter fine art objects in a context where they can function both as Rowntree’s business records and as autonomous artworks.
Anthony Devas, Art Student, c1950, oil on canvas, 14 x 10 inches. Ref: R/Aero girls
Aero Advert, 1951. Ref: R/Guardbooks/S10.
We call these paintings the Aero Girls and they form a somewhat mysterious collection of portraits commissioned by Rowntree’s for use in Aero chocolate advertising, 1951-1957, both in print and on national TV. Advertising firm J. W. Thompson ran the campaign, selecting esteemed portrait painters and illustrators of the day such as Anthony Devas, Henry Marvell Carr, Vasco Lazzolo (aka Victor Lazzola), Norman Hepple and Fleetwood Walker among others to create ‘large illustrations of girls heads’ in oil paint. As Emma Robertson states in her exploration of Chocolate, Women and Empire, ‘images of women tended to predominate in Aero marketing, drawing on and further maintaining the links between women, chocolate and sex.’
Aero advert, 1955. Ref: R/Guardbooks/S10.
Probably more interesting is the use of the oil painting form as a marketing device within the context of Rowntree’s Aero campaign. By the 1950s the photographic image was as abundant in chocolate advertising as it was in everyday life. The oil painted portrait casts us back to an era before the mechanical reproduction of photography, and alludes to an experience that is special, unique and cannot be repeated elsewhere. The campaign slogan underlines this by proclaiming “For her – AERO the-milk-chocolate that’s different!” [to the arch rival Cadbury’s Dairy Milk].
Aero campaign statement from Rowntree’s advertising guardbook, 1951. Ref: R/Guardbooks/S10
Seen together the paintings are striking in their disparity of both style and subject. Several paintings by Devas depict young modern women wearing simple blouses, sporting gamine haircuts; others by Hepple present more aristocratic sorts. Although the print campaign ran for at least six years, it is difficult to trace insightful links between the portraits. Perhaps this is why the campaign was not a particularly successful one. Indeed much of Aero’s sales success during this post-war period can be attributed to a renewed appetite for consumer goods and the end of rationing after 1954.
Norman Hepple, Mary, c1950, oil on canvas, 25 x 21 inches. Ref: R/Aero girls
Anthony Devas, Anna, c1950, oil on canvas, 16 x 12 inches. Ref: R/Aero girls
Anthony Devas, Untitled, c1950, oil on canvas, 17 x 13 inches. Ref: R/Aero girls.
So who were the Aero Girls? Anna. Alice. Wendy. Audrey. Avril. Nancy. Mary. Yvonne. The Country Girl. The Art Student. These names are sketchily written in pencil on the back of the canvas stretchers. The History of Advertising Trust informs me that a family historian whose mother was one of the women depicted in the campaign ‘suspected that Devas sketched his mother, as a young woman, on a bus and then created a portrait from the drawing.’ I also spoke to Alex Hutchinson, Nestle heritage officer, to ask if any of the sitters might have been female factory workers at the Cocoa Works factory in York, where these paintings had previously been on display. Alex replied that in fact ‘little is known about the sitters,’ and so the mystery remains.
If you know who any of the Aero girls are we’d love to hear from you.
We are finishing off the series of Tuke work experience blog posts with an entry from Alex and Martha who looked at some views of York, and the Tuke house.
We start with some views of York from Alex
One of the most interesting items I have had the opportunity of handling this past week has been a collection of 10 photographs of the City of York c 1860 [Reference: TUKE/2/2/6/3/6]. Seeing photos of instantly recognizable sites dated over 150 years ago is absorbing. The collection of photographs had been selected to be included in the memoir of Samuel Tuke, 1784-1857. It is of great interest that these particular images were chosen to best represent York and Samuel Tuke’s life, suggesting they were just as important to the local area then as they are now. Samuel was heavily involved in The Retreat, a mental health hospital in York that still survives today, just 5 minutes from The Borthwick Archives. The Retreat was established by Samuel’s grandfather William Tuke, and the Borthwick holds most of their records.
Tomb of Archbishop de Grey, York
Ackworth School
The Shambles, York
Lindley Murray’s house in Holgate
Walmgate Bar, York
Chichester Cross
York Minster
Ouse Bridge, York
Micklegate Bar, York
Samuel Tuke
Above we can see a photograph of Micklegate Bar, a photograph of a print of Ouse Bridge, a photograph of 8 figures in front of Ackworth School, a photograph of the south side of York Minster, a photograph of a print of Walmgate Bar, a photograph of Lindley Murray’s house in Holdgate, a photograph of a print of Chichester Cross, a photograph of the tomb of Archbishop de Gray in York Minster, and a photograph of a sketch of the Shambles in York.
Martha found some photographs of the Tuke’s house in Lawrence Street
Whilst going through the Tuke archives one of the most fascinating things I discovered was in the photography collection. The pictures show where the Tukes used to live in York, and the family’s house was located on Lawrence Street. It is a shame that the house has not been preserved, as it is now surrounded by a busy road, and the beautiful gardens attached to the house have since been filled with an industrial estate. It is sad to think that the many people, who pass the house every day, are unaware of the rich history that it holds.
The pictures show the house and garden in their former glory taken in the 1850s, and we can see members of the Tuke family in the pictures.
The Tukes’ home in Lawrence Street, York, 1850sEsther Tuke in the garden of the Tukes’ house in Lawrence Street
Today marks the 65th anniversary of the National Health Service. During the Second World War, concerns for the sustainability of voluntary hospitals (already subsidised by the government before 1945) contributed to the proposal of a comprehensive health service, open to all members of the community and free at the point of use.
One of these voluntary institutions was the York County Hospital, which opened in 1740. The following images are taken from the hospital’s Final Report (reference: YCH 1/2/21), published on the eve of its transfer into the NHS on 5th July 1948.
The report also includes some group photographs of the nursing staff, administrative team and the medical board – as well as a picture of its royal patron, HRH The Princess Royal!
Although the report begins with reflections on the work of the hospital as a voluntary organisation, it ends on a note of hope, looking forward to a future within the National Health Service.
Happy Birthday, NHS!
Health archives at the Borthwick Institute
We hold a large number of records relating to health, comprising the archives of the hospitals and other services managed by the NHS in York, running from the mid-eighteenth century to the present day. As well as the archive of York County Hospital, we also hold records for the many smaller hospitals which were inherited by the NHS after 1948.
Written by Francesca Taylor, National Archives Trainee.
Hello! My name is Francesca Taylor, and together with Kerstin Doble we are the new dynamic duo of National Archive Trainees here at the Borthwick, specialising in interpretation and online engagement. We’ve been here since the beginning of April 2013 and our job over the next year will be to digitise early modern church visitation records from the 16th and 17th century that are tucked away here in the archives. These digitised records will then be made available online for everyone to see and make use of.
Courtesy of BT Archives
So far, it’s been a busy few months, as we have been filling our brains with all things archives (an area totally new to both of us – I come from an archaeology background and Kerstin coordinated and installed exhibitions at the Tate Gallery) and getting our heads around palaeography (learning how to read old handwriting) in preparation for our main project. We have also been busy filling up our schedule with training events and conferences so that we make sure we get the most out of our year here. So when we saw an advert for the BT Digital Archives Conference at Coventry University we jumped at the chance.
The BT Archives are a unique resource. Recognised by both UNESCO and Arts Council England for its significance, it provides a 165 year history of the development of telecommunications and its impact on society not only in Britain but internationally. As part of a joint project between Coventry University, BT and The National Archives, they have catalogued, digitised and developed a searchable online archive of almost half a million photographs, images, documents and correspondence. We therefore thought it would be useful for us to see how another organisation had digitised and presented its archives online – perhaps it would also give us ideas!
We weren’t disappointed. Held in the impressive-sounding Serious Games Institute in the Innovation Village of Coventry University, it was great to hear not only from those directly involved in digitising the records but from the academics and researchers who had already made good use of them. There were presentations from a range of people giving us a detailed insight into the process of and equipment used in digitisation as well as how all of this data would be presented on the website. They have decided to use a ‘mosaic’ design as an engaging way for people to browse the archives through tiles of images, as well as the usual search functions. It really emphasised how important front-end web design would be for us in order to attract people to dip into our records.
Most interestingly to us, presentations from a range of academics working in design, linguistics, business and computing highlighted how the archives have been useful teaching tools outside of history departments (one speaker even demonstrated how photographs from the archives had been used as teaching material for undergraduate sports therapy students). It is a demonstration of how potentially useful our digitisation project records could be to an ever wider audience than we imagined… plenty of food for thought!
This week we continue our Tuke themed blog posts with a look at some of the poetry found in the collection, written by one of our work experience students, Rebecca. You can catch up by reading Part I here.
Studying personal documents from the early nineteenth century, I inevitably found myself looking out for glimpses of major political events; the Napoleonic Wars in particular. I found there to be surprisingly little. I suppose it’s one of those ‘topical silences’ – letters are going to be about the personal and the everyday, not the grand and international. It’s not like I ever wrote about the Iraq war in my letters of the last decade. But I have to say that a selection of comedic poems was not somewhere I expected to find my first reference to Bonaparte (TUKE/2/1/13/1/3). It makes sense though, and it’s a really fun read. The kind of tongue-in-cheek mockery and teasing bravado reminds me of the theme song to Dad’s Army; who do you think you are kidding, Mr. Bonaparte?
TUKE/2/1/13/1/3
I understand Bonaparte, you still think to come
To frighten Old England with the beat of your drum
But take my advice, & never come near us,
For if you land here you’ll have reason to fear us,
If you ever mix with us, to eat up our bread,
We will lull you to sleep with a potion of Lead
We need stop neither Harrows nor ploughs to find men,
Should we meet in the field you’ll find fifty for ten,
For our Bricklayers lads & our wool-combers Boys,
With our guns can play better than yours with Toys
Yes our very Thimbling tribe can all with great skill,
Use their daggers for their daggers as swords a henchman to kill,
Believe me friend Bonney you’ll be left in the Lurch
Whenever you try to demolish our Church;
At the end of your life you will find I speak truth,
And wish for the Solitude you passed in your youth,
So Huzza to old England if ‘ere you dare come,
For we fear neither you nor the beat of your Drum
All the bells in our steeples shall merrily ring
And our young men & maidens will joyfully sing,
The fame of brave Britons to you is not new,
So we’ll use no more ink but to bid you adieu.
Rebecca found other interesting poetry snippets in the collection, like these written by Favilla Copsie:
The poem (below) was written by Favilla Copsie (née Scott), probably in 1807, and is mentioned in letters from her sister Mary Maria Tuke (née Scott) (TUKE/1/6/1/6/24) and her son James Favil Copsie (TUKE/1/37/1/9/7, TUKE/1/37/1/9/8).
TUKE/1/35/1/8/8
Favilla evidently enjoyed writing poetry, and we have a selection of her other poems, which often take the form of everyday correspondence. They’re wonderful to read;
‘my dearest James I use this Ink // to let you see on you I think… first I must thank you for your thimble // which make my needle run quite nimble’
‘my Dear Cousin Esther do you go to the Ball // tho I hope before that you will give me a Call’
Little gems like this which seem at once so alien and so familiar made the week’s work experience really absorbing.
To read more about our student volunteers’ work with the Tuke archive, please see Growing Up Tuke and Views of York.
Between April 15th and April 19th 2013, the Borthwick enlisted the help of a team of Work Experience students to help us work through the large collection of Tuke material that we hold. Part of their remit was to pull out interesting documents from the collection to form a series of blog posts.
This week we look at contributions from Sara, Ceri, and Stephanie.
We are a group of students currently undertaking a work experience placement at the Borthwick Institute of Archives in York. Over the past week we have been re-cataloguing the vast Tuke family archive consisting of letters, maps, photographs, silhouettes, finance and other personal items – including hair.
The Tuke family were a notable Quaker family in York in the 18th and 19th centuries. They were active in the local community, and were involved in areas such as pioneering new mental health treatment, founding a Quaker school, a tea and coffee business, and other charitable work.
The week has given us a great insight into what it would be like to work in archives. If anyone is interested in working in this area, they should be aware that opportunities are offered twice a year for York University students to work at the Borthwick for a week.
Sara found a great piece on teenage heartache…
One of the greatest joys of working through this collection was the opportunity to glimpse into the personal lives of members of the Tuke family (perhaps the archival equivalent of peering over the hedge). The Tukes’ private declarations of love, fear, and indignation make them people, rather than personages, and human, rather than historical. A prime example comes from the correspondence of William Murray Tuke (1822-1903). In 1837, he received a letter that any 15-year-old would dread: his girlfriend was breaking up with him.
TUKE/1/30/2/2/1. Letter from Y.Y.Y. to L.N., William Murray Tuke. 28 October 1837
Though Y.Y.Y. is unidentified, L.N. is a codename for the young William. ‘My dearest L.N.’, Y.Y.Y. begins, and then she gets straight to the heartbreaking point: ‘I have long thought that as we are both too young to think about such things and yet too old to be so foolish as I now think we have been for the last two or three years [. . .] I do not wish to risk my future happiness by continuing our present correspondence’. Once you see past her handwriting and eloquence, you realize that Y.Y.Y.’s concerns are both modern and strikingly teenaged: ‘I love you as much as ever I did’, she says, but ‘I know your affections may perhaps be fixed upon another person much more worthy of your love than I am’.
With a bit more sleuthing, Y.Y.Y. might be identified and the nature of her relationship with ‘L.N.’ elaborated. For now, this letter remains a mysterious and poignant peek into the heart of an adolescent. In 1846, nine years later, William Murray Tuke married Emma Williams, yet he kept this letter until his death. Perhaps Y.Y.Y.’s naïve words remained with him throughout his long marriage: ‘I shall not forget you as being my first love.’
Ceri found a number of sketches and insights into the everyday life of the young Daniel Hack Tuke…
This week has given me the chance to follow an individual from early life all the way to a bearded old age. This was one of the great delights for me; Daniel Hack Tuke proved to be the most interesting character and my favourite Tuke of the week after reading his youthful doodle-laden letters to his older brother William Murray Tuke from c. 1841.
A sketch from TUKE/1/32/1/4/14
His sketches of the family during Hebrew lessons (TUKE/1/32/1/4/14) or gathered at tea (TUKE /1/32/1/4/22) brightened up the letters with a mixture of colourful imagination but also morbid curiosity; tucked in with the collection was a small card with a woodcutting and the details of a hanging at York castle. (TUKE/1/32/1/4/25).
A sketch from TUKE/1/32/1/4/22
The letter about Daniel flying his kite was not dissimilar to how a child today would sheepishly admit to a misdeed. The quote “I have been flying my kite to day but is at present in a tree, not in our premises” (TUKE/1/32/1/4/19) partnered with the simple ink sketch provides a poignant childhood memory which was good to keep in mind when reading his later more grown-up correspondence. This collection, in particular, was filled with animated anecdotes and was an entertaining insight into the whimsical childhood activities of this prominent figure of the Tuke family.
Stephanie also found some interesting childhood letters, this time from James Favil Copsie…
TUKE/1/37/1/8/3
One of the nicest things about working with original documents is that you are continually reminded of the humans behind the stories that are eventually consolidated into historical narratives. The documents take you away from the general and encourage you to empathise and engage with individuals’ tribulations. This experience will probably be what I will remember best from my week working with the Tuke Collection, my complete immersion in the Copsie family’s lives. Seeing James Favil Copsie transition from a child first living away from home, profusely thanking his parents for the cakes and apples they sent him to an apprentice, falling off the Sunderland Pier and spending time with his friends, to becoming a businessman, working in coffee and tea businesses and even considering setting up a mustard business, was fantastic. His childhood letters were by far my favourite though, especially one in which he discussed the breaking off of an engagement (see the quote below), as his childlike honesty contrasts with the more polite and ceremonial letters regarding marriage in other parts of the collection.
“I am glad to hear Miss Rodhams match is broke off. I remember having dear sister Favilla say that she said she would marry at the age of sixteen or before. I did expect it would be a poor match as a person of fortune and sense would not have her who knew nothing, she is not handsome nor learned nor yet very industrious. So that if any would chase her it would be only for money.” (TUKE/1/37/1/8/3)
