This is a blog about music, photography, history, and culture.
These are photographs from my collection that tell a story about lost time and forgotten music.

Mike Brubaker
{ Click on the image to expand the photo }

A Scottish Orchestra

31 October 2020


Harwich- The Low Lighthouse and Beacon Hill, c.1820
John Constable (1776 – 1837)
Source: Wikimedia


The world is connected by an infinite network
of unexpected lines of coincidence.
One thing links to another
though the fateful magic of pure happenstance. 







The Old Harbour Light, North Queensferry, 1909
Martin Hardie (1875 – 1952)
Source: Achenbach Foundation for Graphic Arts

Most of the time these lines are hidden.
But occasionally, if you look very closely,
you can find a link that accidently connects two places. 
In this case, it's a line drawn invisibly on a postcard

that goes from an English lighthouse
to a Scottish lighthouse.








The postcard photo shows a small orchestra
posed outside a doorway to an unknown building.
Seated in the center is the conductor holding his baton,
and around him are 16 musicians, mostly string players.
But there are two flutes, one piccolo, two cornets, 
and a piano player who stands on the right holding a roll of music.
Nearly all the gentlemen wear fine three-piece dark suits. 
With their thirteen mustaches,
it seems fair to date them to pre-World War One
and possibly even the years of King Edward VII.

The 
connecting line
is found on the back of the postcard.







          Carlingnose Barracks
          North Ferry   
            Queensferry

          Fifeshire
Dear Mr. Ward
      You will see that I have just got into Scot-
land and and (sic)  amongst the 'Reet tha noo'. Now
this is the small reproduction of the one you       
saw. I hope you are quite well. I am in the best    
now. I am in a little village about the size of Shotley
I had awfully railway journey starting 7 oclock     
last Saturday morning arriving here Sunday morning
9 oclock. I will write in my letter about this little   
place.                                                           
Yours truly
                                           Herbert     / one of the old 'uns
sincere remembrance
to the wife                    




The writer, Herbert, gives his address as Carlingnose Barracks. This was a coastal defense installation that guarded the Firth of Forth, that is the estuary (firth) of the River Forth just north of Edinburgh, Scotland at the river crossing of the aptly named, North Queensferry. Above this village is a high bluff where an artillery battery was built in 1779 following a threat on Edinburgh from the celebrated (or notorious) American naval commander, John Paul Jones. The Carlingnose point offered a strong position for a concrete artillery emplacement overlooking the river. It remained in continuous use until after WW1 when it was closed. In WW2 it was reopened as an anti-aircraft battery. The Carlingnose Barracks closed permanently in 1957.

It is curious that only one of the musicians is dressed in the uniform of a British soldier, so I think the man holding a violin and seated to the right of the orchestra's conductor is Herbert. I also think he doubled on the euphonium at his feet, probably his main instrument as a bandsman assigned to Carlingnose. It seems most unlikely that any conductor would have the dexterity to play such large (and loud) bass instrument and still wave a baton at the same time.

Herbert's note was an added bonus to this photo, as my real interest was focused on an unusual instrument. The two flutists have instruments made in contrasting materials, blackwood on the left and silver on the right, which is interesting but not unusual for an ensemble of this era. But the two cornets are subtly different too. The one on the right is a standard cornet, but seated to the left of the conductor is a musician who stands out with a fancy white waistcoat. He is holding an Echo Cornet, just like the instrument used by Monsieur Gouget in my story from this September, Les Gougets - The Fantastic Horn Duo




The echo cornet is not an instrument called for in any orchestral music that I know, as it was novelty instrument of the late 19th century devised to produce a special effect typically found in solo pieces. To demonstrate this unusual cornet here is a solo rendition of  the 'Tit Willow' song, from The Mikado (1884-85) by Arthur Sullivan (1842-1900). It is played by Crispian Steele-Perkins on an Echo Cornet in C, made be F. Besson & Co, London, c.1875. The echo bell is the muffler-like appendage which uses a 4th valve to instantly redirect the cornet's sound from the main bell into a muting device. This particular tune would not be out of place on the program for this orchestra. The gentleman in the white waistcoat may have been a featured soloist on a program performed by Herbert's Fifeshire orchestra.





The postcard was sent to a Mr. Ward, who presumably lived near the village of Shotley which Herbert mentions. In the 1911 Census for the village of Shotley, there was a baker & grocer named Alfred Ward, age 52, who lived there with his wife Charlotte Ward, age 58, and two children, Beatrice E. Ward, age 29, a school teacher, and Fred H. Ward, age 28, a carpenter.

Shotley is situated on a peninsula between the River Stour and the River Orwell in the county of Suffolk, England. The two rivers converge at Shotley and flow into the North Sea between Harwich and the Port of Felixstowe. On the Harwich coastline, just two miles or so as the seagull flies, is a low lighthouse that was constructed in 1818 as one of a pair of leading lights to aid ship navigating into the port.


In this vintage postcard of the Promenade at Harwich, the low lighthouse is at the end of the boardwalk. The photographer took the photo in about the same position as the 1820 landscape by John Constable (1776 – 1837) which I used to begin my story. Today the stone lighthouse has been preserved as a maritime museum and park attraction.  





In a geographic straight line 340 miles northwest of Harwich is another small lighthouse. The Harbour Light Tower marks the ferry landing in North Queensferry. It was built in 1817, a year before the Harwich Low Lighthouse and in 1909 inspired the artist Martin Hardie (1875 – 1952) to make the etching which I used as my second image for this story. At the time it may have outlived its useful purpose as it was then overshadowed by a better way to cross the River Forth. 




When Herbert made his long railway journey north to Fifeshire, he would seen the light from high above the river on the great cantilever Forth Railway Bridge. This amazing structure is the world's second-longest single cantilever span, with a length of 1,709 feet (521 m). The track is 150 feet (45.72 m) above the water level at high tide. The three four-tower cantilever structures are 361 feet (110.03 m) tall, with each tower built on a separate granite pier. It is one of the marvels of the great age of British engineering, and one that surely took Herbert's breath away when his train crossed over it into the North Queensferry station.  





The little Habour Lighthouse at North Queensferry has been preserved and tourists can climb all 24 steps and see the restored functioning light. But they will be turning their cameras to more than the Forth Railway Bridge from its stubby tower. There are more engineering marvels in the opposite direction.




The Forth Road Bridge opened in 1964 and at the time was one of the longest suspension bridges outside of the United States. It spans 8,241 ft (2,512 m) and the towers are 512 ft (156 m) above the river. To the west is the Queensferry Crossing which carries the M90 motorway. It is a a three-tower cable-stayed bridge with an overall length of 1.7 miles (2.7 km) and with towers that stand at 679 ft (207m) tall. It was opened by Queen Elisabeth II on 4 September 2017. I wonder if she has a favorite bridge. My favorite is the first Forth bridge.



1887 Living model illustrating principle of the Forth Bridge.
Source: Wikimedia

In 1887 the two designers of the Forth Railway Bridge, English engineers Sir John Fowler and Sir Benjamin Baker, made a photo to demonstrate the strength of their cantilever bridge. Their design followed a principle used for thousands of years in bridge construction where a cantilever beam supports a light central girder. To illustrate the use of tension and compression in the bridge, they positioned Japanese engineer Kaichi Watanabe on a center beam supported by Fowler and Baker sitting in chairs representing the cantilevers, with their arms in tension and sticks they are holding under compression. One either end are cast iron bricks representing the cantilever end piers. Public anxiety over bridges falling down, especially railway bridges, was a very real fear in the 19th century. I've written about this concern before in Marching to the Sound of a Silent Drummer. This clever photo by Fowler, Baker, and Watanabe served to reassure the public that the Forth Railway Bridge would be safe.



One of the reasons I collect photo postcards like Herbert's Fifeshire orchestra is because I enjoy discovering the geography and history that is associated with them. It is pure coincidence that I could pick this card and be able to connect it to two lighthouses that match the Sepia Saturday theme image. It's a weekly game I continue to enjoy and learn from. Thanks, Alan,


This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where everyone has seen the light.







5 comments:

Barbara Rogers said...

Such an entertaining post...those invisible connecting lines might just have something to do with the final photo about how suspension bridges work...yay gravity and materials that have strength either in compression or extension. (I think that's the difference between wood and concrete...but I may have the terms wrong.) thanks Mike!

La Nightingail said...

As always, a fun informative post! A local community band director here often directs and plays a trumpet at the same time. A trumpet, of course, is not as big as a euphonium, but I wouldn't put it past her to play one of those and direct at the same time either. She's quite a character. I like the postcard showing the safety of the design of the Forth Rail Bridge. Very clever of them! :)

ScotSue said...

Of course, Mike, the Scottish angle to your post particularly appealed to me. We lived 6 miles from South Queensferry, and my father loved driving there in the 1960s to see the progress in the building of the Forth Road Bridge and somewhere we have a series of slides he took on
on the visits. The opening of the new bridge by the Queen was a major event and it marked the end of drivers having to queue for the slow ferries that crisscrossed the River. Of course 50 years later that “new” bridge was insufficient for modern traffic and we now have the new Queensferry crossing. Your photographs are stunning, and I never knew about the old building at North Queensferry.
Bouts

Anonymous said...

I always enjoy your posts and often learn as well. Sepia Saturday can be a great game to play - although I guess I'm not really playing right now since I got involved in a series.

That echo cornet played games with my ears!

Molly of Molly’s Canopy said...

I am always fascinated by how you are able to link your musical postcards to the Sepia Saturday prompt each week. You are quite good at this game! The photos and graphics of lighthouses and bridges are breathtaking, and kudos on finding a musical link! The echo coronet is a new instrument to me and indeed sounds like two instruments echoing one another in the video. Hats off to the inventor of that unique instrument.

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