Scores of French love letters from the mid-18th century have been opened and studied for the first time since they were written. The letters – sent to French sailors by wives, siblings and parents – never made it to their intended recipients, but they offer rare insight into the lives of families affected by war.
Sent between 1757-58 during the Seven Years War, the letters were mostly addressed to the crew of the Galatée warship, and the French postal administration forwarded them from port to port in hopes of reaching the sailors. But when the British Navy captured the Galatée in April 1758, French authorities forwarded the batch of letters to England.
The 104 letters are written on heavy, expensive paper, and some have red wax seals. Renaud Morieux, the historian of the University of Cambridge, discovered them in the digital remainders of Britain's National Archives. Morieux spent months decoding(解码) the letters, and published his findings Monday in the French history journal Annales.
In one letter, Marguerite Lemoyne, a 61-year-old mother, scolds her son Nicolas Quesnel for not writing:"On the first day of the year... you have written to your fiancée... I think more about you than you about me...In any case I wish you a happy new year filled with blessings of the Lord. I think I am for the tomb, I have been ill for three weeks. Give my compliments to Varin, it is only his wife who gives me your news."
"The son who's at sea is only writing to his fiance, and the mother gets really annoyed about that," Morieux said. The letters also demonstrate the difficulty of long-distance communication in the 1750s. Many of the senders, like Lemoyne, were likely illiterate and dictated their messages to a copyist. Moreover, sending a letter to a ship constantly on the move during wartime was difficult and unreliable, and families often sent multiple copies of letters to different ports.
In an effort to maximize the chances of successfully communicating with a loved one, each letter had multiple messages crammed onto the paper, often from different families and addressed to multiple crewmates. To Morieux, the letters show how communities stay resilient(有韧性的) in times of crisis.
Quietly sitting there reading, I found myself suddenly listening to the train guard's announcements. Train travelers will surely agree that when the guard makes an announcement, whether it's the recorded message or the guard's message, few people listen to it, because it's often quite dull or hard to understand. This one was different. I noticed that other passengers appeared to be listening, too. Not only that, everyone was smiling!
Why was so much attention being paid to this message? As best I can recall the guard said something along these lines, "Good Morning Ladies, Gentlemen and Children, this is the 7: 35 a.m. from Penrith to Central and you'll be pleased to know that we are right on time. And what a lovely morning it is in Sydney today. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and all's right with the world. I trust you have a great day wherever you're going. Thanks for catching my train this morning and I hope to see you again soon."
Quite a few people (obviously previous strangers) started talking to one another about the guards excellent message and how good it had made everyone feel. I started thinking about this, and then I found the young guard and said "Were you the guard on the 7: 35 a.m. from Penrith?" The guard seemed a bit stunned at first, replying, "Yes, yes." "Well, I really appreciate your announcement. Thank you for your extremely good message, which gave me and the other passengers such a good start to the day. Please keep doing it." I said.
There are two messages for me in what happened that day. Firstly, when people are happy in their work it shows in what they do and say. Secondly, the story attaches much importance to the benefits that accumulate from thanking people for something they've done, particularly when it's not expected. Can you imagine the conversation that guard would have when he got home?
Soaring to 29, 035 feet, the famous Mount Everest had long been considered unclimbable due to the freezing weather, the obvious potential fall from cliffs and the effects of the extreme high altitude, often called "mountain sickness." But that was to be changed by Edmund Hillary.
When he was invited to join the British Everest expedition in 1953, Edmund Hillary was a highly capable climber. The glacier-covered peaks in his hometown in New Zealand proved a perfect training ground for the Himalaya. It was his fourth Himalayan expedition in just over two years and he was at the peak of fitness.
On May 28, 1953, Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay, an experienced Sherpa (夏尔巴人) set out and reached the South Summit by 9 a. m. next day. But after that, the ridge (山脊) slightly fell before rising suddenly in a rocky spur (尖坡) about 17 meters high just before the true summit. The formation is difficult to climb due to its extreme pitch because a mistake would be deadly. Scratching at the snow with his ax, Hillary managed to overcome this enormous obstacle, later to be known as the Hillary Step.
At 11:30 a. m, the two men found themselves standing at the top of the world. "Not until we were about 50 feet of the top was I ever completely convinced that we were actually going to reach the summit." Hillary later recounted, "Of course I was very, very pleased to be on the summit, but my first thought was a little bit of surprise. After all, this is the ambition of all mountaineers."
Emerging as the first to summit Mount Everest, Hillary Hillary continued by helping explore Antarctica, and establishing the Himalayan Trust (信托基金), through which he provided a number of beneficial services to the Himalayan peoples. He also a sizeable legacy that mountain climbers have chased ever since. As a young climber said, "It was not just Hillary and Tenzing that reached the summit of Mount Everest. It was all of humanity. Suddenly, all of us could go."
