The Glorious Revolution of 1688, a successful Dutch invasion of
England, Scotland and Ireland, saw William of Orange depose England’s
King James II and grab his throne. Simon de Brienne and his wife Maria
St. Germain, postmasters of the Dutch city of The Hague, served William
both before and after the revolution, a position that placed them at the
very heart of 17th-century Europe’s communication networks. Thanks to
this savvy couple, an international team of scholars is currently poring
over an invaluable record of their era: a leather trunk packed with
2,600 letters sent between 1680 and 1706, all of them undelivered and
many still unopened.
![One of the seals on a letter. (©Signed, Sealed & Undelivered Team, 2015. Courtesy of the Museum voor Communicatie, The Hague)](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_tjzg7iCD5unx2yPioeXBLNCSPi5FNd_fE3g_9kyxFykeqqiIH4o2u1g8aW7HnxYYmaeCCTSC-gGDuh7RNBM78nyvRbYh_cgHj3ai94OrLZCk5cV5Ab30OiPO6N=s0-d)
One
of the seals on a letter. (©Signed, Sealed & Undelivered Team,
2015. Courtesy of the Museum voor Communicatie, The Hague)
Because recipients, and not senders, paid for the delivery of letters
at the time, many letters remained undeliverable because the recipient
changed his or her address, refused to pay the postage or died before
delivery. Postmasters usually destroy these “dead letters,” but Brienne
and Germain apparently kept thousands of them in a linen-lined leather
trunk, probably in the hopes that someday they would be collected and
paid for. In 1926, the trunk in question was bequeathed to the Museum
voor Communicatie, a postal museum in The Hague. It remained nearly
untouched by historians until recently, when a team of academics from
Oxford, Leiden, MIT and Yale began to examine the contents.
![Before the invention of the modern gummed envelope, sometimes these hand-written letters acted as an envelope to contain inserted objects. (©Signed, Sealed & Undelivered Team, 2015. Courtesy of the Museum voor Communicatie, The Hague.)](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_tlMo37NbGGZqU4VDXXcxqe6q6rXL6shzCpBrc16FUyDW3MaXoVN3F1HEsnvT5_QviuIoHL1mmF0850ApMOt7eQKmYeVZoPTQ-4kCExP6Ba4mC35qWVyyUwEQ4EjMEHSmwp9YIfjMU=s0-d)
Before
the invention of the modern gummed envelope, sometimes these
hand-written letters acted as an envelope to contain inserted objects.
(©Signed, Sealed & Undelivered Team, 2015. Courtesy of the Museum
voor Communicatie, The Hague.)
Many of the 2,600 letters—600 of them still unopened—record the
political turmoil of the time, as well as the more personal passions,
heartbreaks and anxieties of their writers. A number of them are written
without much punctuation, conveying the particular rhythms of the
spoken speech of the day. The letters come from a cross-section of
social classes, and are written by women as well as men, providing a
uniquely textured glimpse into history. As Daniel Starza Smith of Oxford
University told the Guardian: “Most documents that survive from this
period record the activities of elites – aristocrats and their
bureaucrats, or rich merchants – so these letters will tell us new
things about an important section of society in 17th-century Europe.
These are the kinds of people whose records frequently don’t survive, so
this is a fantastic opportunity to hear new historical voices.”
One poignant letter was addressed to a Jewish merchant in the Hague from a woman writing on behalf of a friend of hers, a singer with the Hague opera. The singer had traveled to Paris and needed money to return for an unstated (but seemingly desperate) reason. “You can divine without difficulty the true cause of her despair,” the friend wrote. “I cannot put it into so many words; what I ought to say to you is so excessive. Content yourself with thinking on it, and returning her to life by procuring her return.” Unfortunately for the singer, her friend’s letter to the merchant was marked “niet hebben,” meaning that the recipient refused to accept it.
![An opened letter showing "letterlocking." (©Signed, Sealed & Undelivered Team, 2015. Courtesy of the Museum voor Communicatie, The Hague)](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_tDBzMLkXsgveHS2V2_TiiXlyvAvAqAb7vuFT-Dhzey_3zBsxOs-GJhzftFONNT7MF77jgeph8NzfHWDr4EKf9GE327argw0JOAkpn5CXQG3lLm8-MMs6rwJeTVWDouu14=s0-d)
An
opened letter showing “letterlocking.” (©Signed, Sealed &
Undelivered Team, 2015. Courtesy of the Museum voor Communicatie, The
Hague)
Many of the letters contain other sealed missives folded inside or
additional objects, such as forget-me-nots or samples from merchants,
including textile swatches. The letters themselves are intriguing to
scholars beyond their contents: Many are folded in an intricate fashion
known as “letterlocking,” in which the letter itself is fashioned into
its own envelope. The seal of a letter, which in some cases preserved
the sender’s fingerprint, as well as the way in which it was folded,
provides an additional source of information for scholars. Rather than
risk tearing the paper along the folds, the researchers are using
techniques such as X-ray technology to read the unopened letters without
unfolding them.
One poignant letter was addressed to a Jewish merchant in the Hague from a woman writing on behalf of a friend of hers, a singer with the Hague opera. The singer had traveled to Paris and needed money to return for an unstated (but seemingly desperate) reason. “You can divine without difficulty the true cause of her despair,” the friend wrote. “I cannot put it into so many words; what I ought to say to you is so excessive. Content yourself with thinking on it, and returning her to life by procuring her return.” Unfortunately for the singer, her friend’s letter to the merchant was marked “niet hebben,” meaning that the recipient refused to accept it.
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