In praise of the humble picture postcard …….

 It’s that time of year when stories of holidays would fall through the letter box onto the door mat.

Fishing boats, houses and a sea wall, Mousehole,2025

And leaving aside the saucy cards of inebriated vicars, busty women, and innocent shop girls, the postal service was full of picture postcards with scenes of seaside resorts and city centres.

The golden age ended I suppose in the 1960s, and pretty much has been seen off by pictures sent instantly by mobile phones at no cost.

By contrast sending an old-fashioned picture card today will cost 87 pence along with the price of the card and take days to arrive, and even longer if sent from some holiday destination in Greece.

A century and a bit ago a stamp cost next to nothing and with frequent collections and deliveries it was possible to tell your mum you were leaving on the morning train and be home by teatime.

Twisty street leading nowhere, Mousehole, 2025

Better still you could post early and arrange to meet up later in the day.

Now all of this I have written about heaps of time supported by a collection of picture postcards from the 1880s onwards.

So instead, here are four pictures I took last week, and with the help of technology tried to reproduce that golden mellow look that many picture cards seemed to have in the 1950s and 60s along with those blue tinged ones.

I even tried the really yellow look reminiscent of Eastman colour, but that was a step too far.

Of course, I could have gone for that washed out appearance which I suspect had more to do with the length of the time the cards had sat on those twirling stands in full view of direct sunlight.

And in keeping with the time, the selection ranges from the harbour scene and twisty street to the boring.

Leaving me just to offer up some from the collection spanning the Golden Age of the picture postcard which are available by following the link.*

The boring picture, Bristol, 2025

Two bikes and a heap of boats, Mousehole, 2025

Location; Mousehole, Cornwall, and Bristol 

Pictures; Capturing Mousehole and Bristol, 2025, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Picture postcards, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/Postcards

In Mousehole ….. remembering those who never came home

 When the sums were finally done the cost of the Great War was horrendous.

In Mousehole, 2025

They included 887,858 military deaths, 16,829 civilian deaths, a huge number of wounded from the battlefields, which amounted to between 1.9% and 2.22% of the total population.

Figures which will have had their own powerful and personal impact on families and communities.

No where more so than in the tiny villages and hamlets across the country.  Statisticians might argue that the loss was no greater than in the great cities and towns, but in the small communities of rural Britain it might have felt so.

And I was struck by that thought last week as we explored the fishing villages along the eastern coast of Cornwall.

From Mousehole where we stayed through Newlyn and Penzance and inland through small villages and hamlets all of which each had their own monument to those who fought and those who never came back.

Of course, statistics often gloss over the detail, so while the loss was great, it was not so everywhere.  

Six members of our family went to war, including my great grandfather who returned to the colours, my grandfather, his two brothers and my uncles George and Fergus, and all returned.  As well as my two German great uncles which underlines that simple observation that for my family the conflict was a civil war as well as a clash of nations.

But in Mousehole using the 1901 census because the data is more accessible than either 1911 or 1921 and projecting forward to 1914-1918 the 36 who died during the war amounted to roughly 12% of the male population who might have been eligible for military service.

Sharing the view with the war memorial, 2025

It's a calculation fraught with the potential for mistakes, but there were 206 males out of a total population of 969 who during the Great War might have volunteered or been called up.

And yes the figures and calculations do need revisiting. 

Nor is  that all because my old friend Lois reminded me "You know, of course, of the 'thankful' villages, where no men were lost during the war, and the "double thankful" places where every man who served returned home from both World Wars. 

I always think there must have been some feelings of guilt for those who returned , that they did come home, but many of them would have been grievously wounded - in body and mind".

Location; Mousehole, Cornwall

Picture; Remembering those who left Mousehole for two world wars, 2025, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

A lesson in conservation ......the Inn in the Cornish valley

We had been travelling around the southernmost bits of Cornwall.

Wide sandy beaches, rough jagged cliffs and the expanse of the sea

It was all planned so that we did the journey in short hops making the most of the countryside but never overstretching ourselves with more than a few hours in the car.

Often the route took us down small country lanes so narrow that in places it was impossible to see how two vehicles could pass each other.

The tall hedges and overhanging trees added to the magic of these lanes, but then with little warning we would be out in the open with the coast ahead of us and those stunning views of wide sandy beaches, rough grey jagged cliffs and the expanse of the sea.

The plans had been simple, book a couple of Travel Lodges on the way down and then treat ourselves to two up market country hotels.

Travel Lodges are by and large all the same, cheap cheerful and often next to an industrial site, which proved to be the case with our two.

But country hotels are different; usually they have character and history and can be quite enchanting.

So it was with the first we stayed at.
Trengilly Wartha Inn is set in a peaceful valley in the heart of the countryside close to the Helford River.*

It is a rambling old property with at its core an 18th century cottage which from the late 1940s had been added to by a series of owners.

The peaceful valley in the heart of the countryside close to the River Helford

Now I can be practical but I doubt that I would have been able to take the original small building and with a leap of faith think about transforming it into a paying concern.

The 18th century cottage had consisted of three rooms with a ladder giving access to the upstairs, and a lavatory of sorts in the barn where the animals were kept.

The early modernisation and additions were carried out with the help of German prisoners of war and each successive owner added and adapted the place.

The three fields which once provided a meagre living as a market garden are now a mix of open land, lake, and stream with wild flowers everywhere.

Trenggilly Wartha Inn

Not that this is in any way an outrageous advert for the place but  a reflection on how an old building can be adapted, change its use and ensure its survival.

As the current owners are the first to admit while some Inns have a rich and romantic past theirs did not even acquire the title Inn until recently.

But that makes it no less an interesting place and one which I rather think will prompt me to dig deep into its 19th century past, tracking its agricultural residents and placing them in the history of this bit of Cornwall.

And all of this as well as a very pleasant place to say with a most helpful and welcoming hosts which only leaves me to add that the translation of trengilly wartha  means settlement above the tree's.

Pictures; from the collection of Andrew Simpson

* Trengilly Wartha Inn, www.trengilly.co.uk