Tag Archives: Second World War

New catalogue: the postcard collection of the artist Tom Phillips, part 2

by Bethany Goodman

NOTE: This post discusses themes of death and racism.

 

The artist Tom Phillips (1937-2022) pursued numerous interests throughout his lifetime, one of which was his extensive collection of photographic postcards. The Bodleian has acquired this collection, which ranges from the late 1890s into the 1960s, and it is now catalogued and available to readers at the Weston Library. Further background to this collection was covered in a previous post [part 1], which also highlighted the postcards’ often humorous nature.

However, the collection is intended to present a holistic view of our collective human nature, and human nature isn’t always so light-hearted. The postcards are as broad in scope as they are in number, encapsulating the events and trends of the wider world in which their subjects lived. This postcard, for example, seems innocuous enough until you turn it around and read the message, and the scene is retrospectively contextualised in a darker light.

Figure 1 MS. 19966/88

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

War is a pervasive theme within the collection, with numerous boxes dedicated to depictions of the service of both men and women. Its impact is also clearly seen, both through the box labelled ‘War Wounded’ and the individual stories which some postcards tell.

This postcard depicts Harold, and his wife Allie, shortly before the outbreak of World War I. Turning the card over, a bleak picture of the impact of war is immediately visible, as we learn of Harold’s death. The author dates this tragedy to 1914. However, it is likely that Harold Oxford actually died on the 10th August 1915, as the Dardanelles Campaign did not begin until February 1915. This image was likely originally taken for cheerful posterity, but, over the course of a few years, the impact of world events turned the postcard into a memorial instead.

Figure 2 MS. 19966/11

This postcard depicts a different Harold, serving as a leading aircraftsman in the RAF during World War II. Unfortunately, his postcard represents the majority within this collection, with little or no further information available to link the subjects to their personal stories. In the case of this Harold, we have little insight as to who he was, where he served, or if he survived the war.

Around 28 million military personnel died in World War I and World War II. Several hundred service men and women are depicted within this collection, therefore it is likely that many of them were killed during the same conflicts which their postcards were intended to commemorate.

Figure 3 MS. 19966/16

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even without the presence of corresponding messages, the images of the postcards themselves often convey a damning reality, as is the case for the numerous examples of racism and othering portrayed within this collection.

Just over 15% of the boxes contain at least one instance of racist imagery. In most cases this is in the form of blackface. In one box, a racial slur is used, followed by postcards which depict people ‘dressed up’ as both a Ku Klux Klan member and Hitler. Amongst the images of new puppies, manicured gardens and proud shopkeepers, a parallel side of society emerges.

The starkness with which these attitudes and portrayals are represented is confronting.

Tom Phillips perhaps aimed to acknowledge this, as he compiled a collection which showcases the multi-faceted nature of the world we live in – both the good and the bad.

Tracing the impact of war through the correspondence of C.F.C. Hawkes

Guest post by Eleanor Newman, Summer intern in the Modern Archives & Manuscripts Department

As a Classical Archaeology DPhil student, I was thrilled to learn that my job as Archives Processing intern would be cataloguing the work files of Professor C.F.C. Hawkes (1905-1992), founder of the Institute of Archaeology at the University of Oxford. A complex but brilliant scholar, his archives are made up of everything from scribbled notes to full publications, drawings to photographs, and even a real Roman potsherd discovered in Colchester. The files of Hawkes contain a fountain of knowledge on archaeology from Prehistoric Europe to Bronze Age Greece to Roman Britain and beyond, and provide a wonderful insight into the life and career of an established archaeologist.

The correspondence of C.F.C. Hawkes has been particularly interesting, revealing close friendships, bitter rivalries, and even full-blown archaeological scandals (on more than one occasion). What I have found particularly striking, however, are the consistent references to the unstable political climate of the early 20th century and the effects of war on the field of archaeology. A collection of letters from this time highlight the devastation caused by the Spanish Civil War and World War II and the impact on the careers of archaeologists who were, otherwise, just trying to go about their lives.

Hawkes, like many of his colleagues, was called up for duty during WWII. A letter from Hawkes to the Headmaster of Colchester Royal Grammar School (1944) [MS. 21042/162, Colchester] reveals that he had “war-time duties”, which involved working for the Ministry of Aircraft Production. M. R. Hull, curator at the Colchester and Essex Museum states in a letter addressed to Hawkes (1942) [MS. 21042/162, Colchester] that he was part of the Observer Corps, which was taking time away from his ability to do archaeological work. Of course, war time duties carried great responsibility and may have even been traumatic, but I had personally never considered the impact that it must have had on careers which people such as Hawkes and Hull had dedicated their lives to.

References to war and its ongoing impact have appeared in unexpected circumstances throughout this archive. Correspondence between Hawkes and two colleagues working in Ireland, Seán Ó Ríordáin and Gerhard Bersu, refers to a dispute between the latter two about the approach to archaeology in Ireland in the early 1950s [MS. 21042/156, Ireland]. Bersu claims that Irish archaeologists should follow the continental European approach, while Ríordáin stresses that, actually, the Irish approach is perfectly good. The drama and, in some places, comedy of this dispute is overshadowed by one devastating fact: Gerhard Bersu was working in Ireland at this time because, as a German of Jewish ancestry, he had been removed from his position as director of the Römisch‐Germanischen Kommission in 1935 and was forced to flee Germany, eventually taking refuge in Ireland. As a letter from 1950 reveals, it was still not safe for him to return to Germany even five years after the end of the war [MS. 21042/156, Ireland].

Bersu was not the only one of Hawkes’ colleagues displaced from their home as a result of conflict. In 1947, a letter to Hawkes details the emotional struggle of Pere Bosch-Gimpera, a Spanish archaeologist and the Minister of Justice of Catalonia in the government of Lluís Companys, following the Spanish Civil War [MS. 21042/156, Iberia 1]: “I read…with emotion that my ancient colleagues and pupils remember me and still think that I have done something for the archaeology of my country…I fought more than 20 years for having a real Archaeological Museum in Barcelona and to make an organisation of Archaeology in Catalonia, and when things began to become settled I had to fly away.” This story told by Bosch-Gimpera, who fled to Mexico following the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, reflects the personal and professional devastation caused by conflict. Not only did he leave behind friends and colleagues, but he also was not able to witness the impact of his campaign for archaeology in Barcelona and broader Catalonia. A heart-breaking read, this letter shows one man’s touching dedication to archaeology through turmoil.

Finally, Hawkes’ correspondence reveals the severe physical impact of war on museums and collections of artefacts. Museums were no longer able to function as research facilities, as a letter from M.R. Hull to Hawkes in 1940 [MS. 21042/162, Colchester] suggests: “To what extent is the [British Museum] still functioning?” Instead, practical measures for the preservation of material took urgent priority over research and analysis. In a letter from 1947, Bosch-Gimpera details the earlier evacuation of artefacts from a museum in Spain to prevent their destruction by bombings [MS. 21042/156, Iberia 1].

Unfortunately, these preventative measures were not always successful. A devastating letter from A.J.E. Cave, Professor at the Royal College of Surgeons of England, to Hawkes details the damage caused by the London blitz in 1941: “You will be sorry, I know, to learn that our Museum was practically totally destroyed by enemy action on May 10th-11th, and that a mere handful of specimens alone remains of our former incomparable collections. The devastation is truly terrible: I cannot even attempt to describe the extent of this national loss. The most famous historical specimens in British biological science are gone for ever and two centuries of labour and collecting are wiped out at one foul blow. We were burned to the foundations in some places and material placed underground for ‘safety’ has suffered with the rest. A nucleus remains, it is true, for a future Museum, but nothing can ever replace the priceless specimens in osteology, anatomy, pathology and physiology now utterly vanished.” The extent of this loss is inconceivable and its impact on research is surely ongoing even now.

The correspondence of C.F.C. Hawkes highlights the ongoing struggle of archaeologists through conflict in the 1940s. These heart-breaking stories are reflections of the, sometimes surprising, impacts of war on individuals and their work. They are also inspiring demonstrations of persistence and tenacity during difficult times, and echoes of the love that these men held for archaeology.

New catalogue: Archive of Michael Sayers

The catalogue of Irish-American writer Michael Sayers is now complete and available online via Bodleian Archives & Manuscripts.

Chances are, Michael Sayers is a name you aren’t familiar with, and a brief glance at the catalogue might suggest that he is interesting because of the people he knew rather than in his own right. After all, being a correspondent of the likes of T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound, and a former flatmate of Rayner Heppenstall and George Orwell is a pretty good claim to fame, right?

Early in his career, Sayers aspired to poetry and writing for theatre, but perhaps more interesting that his purely literary output was his work in journalism. Having arrived in New York in 1936 to work for renowned theatre designer Norman Bel Geddes, Sayers soon found himself writing articles for various left wing magazines, including Friday, PM and the anti-fascist newsletter The Hour. While he was working for The Hour, Sayers met journalist and the newsletter’s founder Albert E. Kahn. Kahn’s aim was to use The Hour as a vehicle for investigative journalism to counteract the pro-Nazi propaganda of organisations such as the German-American Bund and to expose acts of espionage and sabotage. He certainly found plenty of it – Kahn and Sayers collaborated on three books, two of which – Sabotage! The Secret War Against America (1942) and The Plot Against The Peace (1945) – dealt solely on the Nazi threat to the United States. Their third book, The Great Conspiracy: The Secret War Against Soviet Russia (1946) was an international best seller, though with its acceptance of the reasons behind the Moscow Purge trials probably put this book on the wrong side of history.

Books by Michael Sayers and Albert E. Kahn, from MS. 12451/83 and MS. 12451/84

Did everything end happily for Sayers and Kahn? Well… Not entirely. It probably comes as no surprise that both Sayers and Kahn had Communist sympathies, and their journalistic works brought them to the attention of the House Un-American Activities Committee. Both were blacklisted. Sayers left America and came back to Europe, living first in Britain, then France. Like many other blacklisted writers he was invited to write scripts for Sapphire Films, working on episodes of The Adventures of Robin Hood under then name Michael Connor. Kahn and Sayers never worked together again. Judging by some of the correspondence in MS. 12451/7, it appears they had a disagreement over royalties, which seems like a suitably writer-y way to end a collaboration.

 

Lord Woolton’s papers – catalogue now online

Lord Woolton

Lord Woolton

Fred Marquis (1883-1964), Lord Woolton, was born to working class parents in Salford. Educated at Manchester Grammar School and Manchester University he pursued academic research into social issues whilst also working directly in social welfare in Liverpool’s docklands. After working for the government during the First World War, he joined the firm of Lewis’s and eventually rose to become its Chairman. His business acumen and knowledge of social issues, led to his appointment to the government in 1939, and he became Minister for Food, 4 Apr 1940. From the outset Woolton understood that as well as ensuring the nation’s food supply he had to retain the goodwill of the general public and keep up morale. In notes for his first speech he wrote, ‘He who touches the Nation’s food is courting trouble’.

Notes for his first speech as Minister for Food, Apr 1940

Notes for his first speech as Minister for Food, Apr 1940

He made communication a key aim and gave regular radio broadcasts directed towards housewives, who he called his ‘Kitchen Front’. His name was immortalized in the ‘Woolton Pie’, a meat-less pie, based on root vegetables with a pastry or potato topping.

wooltonpie

Recipe for Woolton Pie from The Times, 26 Apr 1941.

Although he was a non-party government minister during the war, he was appointed Chairman of the Conservative Party in 1946 and is credited with reforming the party structure and aiding Churchill’s re-election in 1951.

His papers were given to the Bodleian Library in 1973 and the catalogue has recently been made available online. The papers can be consulted in the Rare Books and Manuscripts Reading Room in the Weston Library.