LONDON — In a love letter from 1745 decorated with a
doodle of a heart shot through with arrows, María Clara de Aialde wrote to her
husband, Sebastian, a Spanish sailor working in the colonial trade with
Venezuela, that she could “no longer wait” to be with him.
اضافة اعلان
Later that same year, an amorous French seaman who signed
his name M. Lefevre scrawled romantic lines from a French warship to a certain
Marie-Anne Hoteé back in Brest.
Fifty years later, a missionary in Suriname named Lene Wied,
in a lonely letter back to Germany, complained that war on the high seas had
choked off any news from home: “Two ships which have been taken by the French
probably carried letters addressed to me.”
None of those lines ever reached their intended recipients.
British warships instead snatched those letters, and scores more, from aboard
merchant ships during wars from the 1650s to the early 19th century.
While the ships’ cargoes — sugar from the Caribbean, tobacco
from Virginia, ivory from Guinea, enslaved people bound for the Americas —
became war plunder, the papers were bundled off to so-called “prize courts” in
London as potential legal proof that the seizures were legitimate spoils of
war.
For centuries since, the bulging boxes of those undelivered
letters, seized from around 35,000 ships, sat neglected in British government
storage, a kind of half-forgotten dead letter office for intercepted mail.
Photo equipment for
visual documentation of a cache of undelivered mail, at the British National
Archives in London.
Poorly sorted and only vaguely cataloged, the Prize Papers,
as they became known, have now begun revealing lost treasures. Archivists at
Britain’s National Archives and a research team at the Carl von Ossietzky
University of Oldenburg in Germany are working on a joint project to sort,
catalog, and digitize the collection, which gives a nuanced portrait of private
lives, international commerce, and state power in an age of rising empires.
From business dealings to original poemsThe project, expected to last two decades, aims to make the
collection of more than 160,000 letters and hundreds of thousands of other
documents, written in at least 19 languages, freely available and easily
searchable online.
Many of the papers have not been read in centuries, and many
letters remain sealed and unopened.
For centuries since, the bulging boxes of those undelivered letters, seized from around 35,000 ships, sat neglected in British government storage
“You find so many individual voices by men, women —
children, even — who speak, not as a colonial administrator, but as a person
abroad,” said Dagmar Freist, a historian at the Carl von Ossietzky University of
Oldenburg who directs the Prize Papers Project. “They would describe their
social interactions with other religious groups, with enslaved people, with
rituals and traditions,” she added. “It allows you insights into everyday
life.”
The paperwork of colonial commerce makes up much of
collection: invoices for goods, contracts, bills of lading. Reports from the
managers of colonial slave plantations, dispatched to owners and investors in
Europe, also turn up frequently.
But some are poignant and personal. A German sailor on a
merchant ship captured in the 18th century copied out a poem for his daughter’s
baptism. One letter mailed back to Europe requesting a new pair of shoes
includes the traced outline of the writer’s foot to match the size.
An intercepted cache of letters to Spanish prisoners of war
from their wives and children on Tenerife, one of the Canary Islands, includes
complaints about the hardship of scratching out a living alone during wartime,
and details the outbreak of an epidemic on the island: “Distemper begun with
Pains in the head, Stitches, lowness of Spirits & a loathing of the
Stomach.”
‘A wild archive’Archivists and a team of volunteers have begun sorting the
documents — some still coated in soot and grease, and smelling of the filthy
1800s London air — in some cases, matching paper creases or other marks to
bring together scattered pages.
Conservators at the National Archives clean and preserve the
collection, while two photographers, hired by the project through the German
Historical Institute London, meticulously document the intricate work.
“This is like a wild archive,” said Amanda Bevan, who leads
the National Archives team. “All the work I’ve done the rest of my career has
been on documents which were already in good order, identified, numbered.”
“What amazed me was how much the letters — even the ones which have been opened at some point, but they’re still folded up — retain a ‘paper memory. They’re folded in quite intricate patterns.”
Prying the lid off an archival box recently, Bevan pulled
out a mailbag from the Zenobia, a merchant ship captured while sailing from
France to New York during the War of 1812. Inside were dozens of letters —
still sealed with wax — bearing addresses all across the East Coast: Baltimore,
Boston, Charleston, New York, Philadelphia.
‘Electrifying’ discoveriesFreist, the project director, first heard about the
collection from historians in the Netherlands who digitized a selection of the
Dutch-language documents. A Dutch television program called “Letters Over
Water” that aired from 2011 to 2013 tracked down some letter writers’
descendants to deliver the centuries-old intercepted mail.
On early visits to the National Archives, in Kew, South
London, Freist and her team selected archival boxes at random and marveled over
the contents. Freist said she was “electrified” when archivists opened several
letters and found jottings on chalkboard tablets that had only survived
unerased because of their sudden seizure.
“What amazed me was how much the letters — even the ones
which have been opened at some point, but they’re still folded up — retain a
‘paper memory,’” Bevan said. “They’re folded in quite intricate patterns.”
A cache of letters taken from a ship bound from Cádiz,
Spain for Veracruz, Mexico.
Sometimes, cascading inserts and enclosures fold out from
inside a single stuffed envelope, with additional letters meant to be passed on
to other relatives or friends. Those packages unfold like matryoshka dolls,
with letters for elderly parents wrapped around letters for siblings and
spouses, enclosing short notes for children, or hiding small gifts like rings,
or, in one instance, a single coffee bean.
So far, the team has gone through documents seized during
the War of the Austrian Succession (1740–48) in close detail but have taken
only cursory looks at files from other wars.
“We haven’t looked at everything yet, so we’re bound to find
more stuff,” Bevan said. “We open each box and we’re not quite sure what we’re
going to find.”
Read more Odd and Bizarre
Jordan News