Tag Archives: Ireland

Seals, Seas and Ancestries: A Remarkable Postal Family History

One of the things we often get asked, as keepers of the Royal Mail Archive, is what we can tell people about their relatives who worked for the Post Office.

‘What did my father do?’
‘When did my grandma work in this city?’
‘My great uncle says he whizzed around on a motorbike delivering telegrams when he was just a teenager – could this be true?’

Telegram Messenger Boy

Telegram Messenger Boy

We don’t always hold the answers, but when we do, it’s a wonderful feeling helping others to understand the lives of their loved ones.

Every so often, someone contacts us to look further back in time – to add a ‘great’ (or three) to the usual enquiries about parents or grandparents. As someone with the bug myself, I fully understand this; researching your family history can be highly addictive and it can turn up some great stories.

Section of a Post Office Appointments Book

Unfortunately the records can be difficult. We have a standard set that we search for our Family History Research Service, but the further back in time you look, the harder it can be to find particular people. So, when a request came in to research a man called Edward Randall Pascoe, born in 1779, I was worried that we wouldn’t find much to get our teeth into. As a further challenge, we were asked if we could find the cause of Edward’s death, when he was just 42 years of age. Could we help at all?

Poster of Mail for the Packet Ships

Poster showing Mails for the Packets arriving at Falmouth in 1833 by Harold Sandys Williamson

Edward Randall Pascoe, it turns out, was a packet boat captain. Our enquirer, married to one of Edward’s descendants, already knew this, as they had found a mention of him becoming Commander of a ship called the Mansfield in our Appointment records (handily digitised by www.ancestry.co.uk). By that time, April 1821, packet boats had been carrying Post Office mail across the sea for over a hundred years, and Edward’s task on the Mansfield was to see the post safely from Milford Haven, Wales, to Waterford, Ireland, and vice-versa.

Since our enquirer knew this already, we agreed to work differently from our usual service, to hunt for something useful. Searching our catalogue, I was excited to learn we held a record of the Mansfield dated 1 August 1821 – only a few months after Edward gained command of the ship – in a box of ‘Bills of Sale’. I unfolded it very carefully and read that ‘Edward Randall Pascoe of Milford in the country of Pembroke, Mariner, and William Molland of Dover in the county of Kent, Gentleman,’ agreed to buy the Countess of Mansfield from the Postmaster General for ‘one thousand eight hundred and forty pounds eight shillings and six pence,’ as long as Edward still carried the mail.

It described the vessel – ‘a square sterned Cutter’, ‘British built’ – in great detail, but best of all, lying at the bottom of the page, Mr Pascoe had placed his personal seal in wax and signed his name. A trace of the man himself! A rare find indeed.

Signature and Seal belonging to Edward Randall Pascoe Crop

Signature and Seal belonging to Edward Randall Pascoe

Further appointment records showed that Mr Pascoe later captained a Steam Packet (a steam-powered, mail-carrying ship, which gradually took over the trade from 1815) at Port Patrick, Scotland. Our enquirer could fill in one blank – that business partner William Molland was in fact Edward’s father-in-law – but what about the captain’s sad death in 1827? I could not find a record of a Death Gratuity, a kind of compensation payment for those killed in service, so it seemed that his fate would remain a mystery.

As luck would have it, however, I discovered that we had been asked about Mr Pascoe a few years before by another of his descendants, who had in fact written a book about his family. I got in touch with her and she completed the story: taking a ship to Holyhead, Wales, for repair, Edward was injured at sea, and died of a fever shortly after completing the crossing.

Steam Packet

Painting of the SS Great Britain Steamship

We were able to put these two researchers (and distant relatives) in touch with each other for the first time, and they have been able to enjoy sharing their discoveries. I wonder what Edward Randall Pascoe would make of it all!

While it’s a sad truth that most of our family-history-seekers don’t find such intriguing tales – and some of them find nothing at all – we have to celebrate the success stories. It makes you wonder: who might find each other in a few hundred years’ time piecing together your own life?

Ashley March – Archives Assistant

Davy Byrne’s Ulysses for Bloomsday

One of the more unusual items we have in The Royal Mail Archive stored here at the BPMA is a first edition copy of Ulysses by James Joyce. Joyce wrote the novel between 1919 and 1920 and when it was published in 1922 it was soon banned in the UK for obscene content.

It was illegal to send these sorts of publications through the post, and this became one of the many publications that the Post Office was instructed to intercept if they came across them. Here the Post Office was acting under section 42 of the Customs Consolidation Act 1876 which directed: such goods shall be forfeited, and may be destroyed or otherwise disposed of as the Commissioners of Customs may direct.

A warrant issued to detain and open packages containing Ulysses was in force from 27 March 1933 to 13 November 1936, over which time a fair few copies were intercepted. A note from early 1934 in a file (POST 23/9, ‘Seditious, obscene and libellous publications sent through the post’) suggests ‘no more than 50’ copies had been stopped since the warrant came into force (as against a newspaper suggestion that 2,000 copies had been seized and destroyed). In particular, efforts were being made to stop the importation of Ulysses into the country from publishers abroad.

Ulysses first edition in its original box, POST 23/220.

Ulysses first edition in its original box, POST 23/220.

Our edition is one of 1,000 numbered editions produced by Sylvia Beach’s Shakespeare & Company bookshop in Paris. 100 were produced using Dutch handmade paper signed by the author, a further 150 on Vergé d’Arches paper. The remainder on handmade paper were numbered, 251 to 1000. Our copy is numbered 895.

Inside page of Ulysses in The Royal Mail Archive.

Inside page of Ulysses in The Royal Mail Archive.

As well as the book itself we have a small number of items accompanying it. There is a printed business card for a David Byrne of 21 Duke Street, Dublin and a handwritten note which reads:

Jacob Schwartz, Bookseller, 20 Bloomsbury St.
Sold to Ulysses Bookshop
James Joyce – Ulysses – 1922
Price £3 – 0 – 0.

Business card and note accompanying Ulysses.

Business card and note accompanying Ulysses.

These introduce two interesting historical figures.

On a recent visit to the BPMA Dan Mulhall, Ireland’s Ambassador to the UK, pointed out that the David Byrne on the card would have been the proprietor of Davy Byrne’s pub at that address on Duke Street and furthermore features in Ulysses, in the pub, something we were alas not aware of (I have to admit here that my two attempts at reading Joyce’s wonderful but exacting work have failed around page 100). Davy Byrne’s pub also features in Joyce’s short story Counterparts which was published in his collection Dubliners.

The pub and Byrne come into Ulysses from page 163:

He [protagonist Leopold Bloom] entered Davy Byrne’s. Moral pub. He doesn’t chat. Stands a drink now and then. But in leapyear once in four. Cashed a cheque for me once.

….

—Have you a cheese sandwich?

—Yes, sir.

Like a few olives too if they had them. Italian I prefer. Good glass of burgundy take away that. Lubricate. A nice salad, cool as a cucumber, Tom Kernan can dress. Puts gusto into it. Pure olive oil. Milly served me that cutlet with a sprig of parsley. Take one Spanish onion. God made food, the devil the cooks. Devilled crab.

—Wife well?

—Quite well, thanks … A cheese sandwich, then. Gorgonzola, have you?

—Yes, sir.

Davy Byrne came forward from the hindbar in tuckstitched shirtsleeves, cleaning his lips with two wipes of his napkin. Herring’s blush. Whose smile upon each feature plays with such and such replete. Too much fat on the parsnips.

—And here’s himself and pepper on him, Nosey Flynn said. Can you give us a good one for the Gold cup?

—I’m off that, Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne answered. I never put anything on a horse.

—You’re right there, Nosey Flynn said.

Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with relish of disgust, pungent mustard, the feety savour of green cheese. Sips of his wine soothed his palate. Not logwood that. Tastes fuller this weather with the chill off.

Nice quiet bar. Nice piece of wood in that counter. Nicely planed. Like the way it curves there.

—–

The pub is now part of the route followed by those re-enacting Bloom’s journey each year on 16 June (Bloomsday).

Davy Byrne, originally from County Wicklow, bought the pub at 21 Duke Street, Dublin in 1889. Coincidentally Joyce had previously been granted leasehold interest in the lodging rooms above 20 and 21 Duke Street. The pub has been famously visited by many literary and political figures including Patrick Kavanagh, Brendan Behan, Michael Collins and Arthur Griffith. Byrne retired in 1939 but the pub goes strong to this day.

Jacob Schwartz is also a very interesting character. He practiced as a dentist in New York in the 1920s. By the 1930s he had established Ulysses Bookshop in Bloomsbury, London. He later worked in Paris, London and Brighton. Later among others he acquired manuscripts from Samuel Beckett who referred to the ex-dentist Schwartz as ‘The Great Extractor’.

So it looks like Davy Byrne attempted to sell his book to Bernard Schwartz in London presumably in the early to mid 1930s. Unlike in the UK and the US, Ulysses was never banned in Ireland. It has even been suggested that the copy could have come to Byrne directly from Joyce. Unfortunately we have nothing further material in our collection to tell us more.

So Jake the Dentist didn’t get the copy of the book he paid three pounds for. Or Byrne didn’t get payment for the book if this is an unpaid invoice. The mystery continues but one thing is for sure. It will move to a new and prestigious home when The Postal Museum opens in 2016.

Further sources for this blog:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Davy_Byrne%27s_pub
http://www.davybyrnes.com/history/
http://ashrarebooks.wordpress.com/2012/03/07/the-great-extractor/
http://www.nytimes.com/1987/09/06/books/ed-the-collector-jake-the-dentist-and-beckett-a-tale-that-ends-in-texas.html

-Gavin McGuffie, Archive Catalogue & Project Manager