Weekend Walkthrough: Newes From the Dead

What was happening in 1650?
The English Civil War broke out in 1642 and still wasn't officially over by 1650. Charles I was executed in 1649, and his son, later to be Charles II, was exiled. In 1650 England therefore had no monarch, and existed as the Commonwealth of England, a republic under the leadership of Oliver Cromwell. It was therefore a time of great instability and uncertainty, which is often apparent in the book.

'Infanticide'
As Mary Hooper pointed out in a note at the end of the book, a statute was passed in 1624 that effectively made an unmarried woman guilty until proven innocent. After this statute became law, it became a capital (which means punishable by death) offence for unmarried women to conceal the birth of a child. It's worth noting that it's only in the past 30 years or so that illegitimacy has become accepted/more acceptable.

According to this website, it has been argued that convictions for infanticide between 1580-1700 resulted in more executions than the witch craze of the same period. The unmarried mother needed at least one witness to prove that her child had been born dead. Even if she was able to do this, often she was still sentenced to death for the crime of concealing a child, which shows that the statute was just as much to prevent illegitimacy as to punish infanticide.

Being hanged
Hanging was a common form of execution in England, with the first hangmen records dating from the 1360s, and the last hanging being surprisingly recent, in 1955.

The picture to the left is a common hangman's scaffold. A noose would be fastened around the person's neck, and a trap door under their feet would be opened. If the noose was knotted properly, and the knot was in the right place, the person's death would be quick, as their neck would be broken by the pressure put on it during the fall. If it wasn't, death would be from suffocation, and could take a lot longer. As I've mentioned before, it could be sped up by friends/family pulling and swinging from the person's legs.

A macabre thing to note is that hangings were, most of the time, public, and many people attended, as it was a popular form of entertainment. If you think about it, it makes sense as there was likely to be little to do for fun in those times, but it's still not a nice thing to think about!

How did she survive?
As Mary Hooper mentions in the back of the book, it is likely that the knot of the hangman's noose was in the insufficient place to break Anne's neck, meaning that death would have taken longer while she suffocated. Friends hanging off her legs (as they did) would have made it slightly quicker, but it still wouldn't have been instantaneous. It was a really cold day, too, and she wasn't wearing very much, so the most likely explanation for her survival is cryogenic preservation. Sub-zero temperatures mean that the brain is frozen, and therefore can't be starved of oxygen, which is what causes death.

Given the religious fervour of the time, Anne's recovery prompted officials to grant her a pardon. It was felt that god had sent a sign of Anne's innocence, and as such would be blasphemy to sentence her to death a second time. Something that strengthened this view was the illness and death of Sir Thomas Reade a couple of days after Anne's recovery. Given that he had ensured Anne did not receive a fair trial in the first place, this was seen as a further omen of God's will.

Going off on a tangent, while instances like this were rare, it would have been similar cases (or other medical anomalies) that made it necessary for the 'saved by the bell' legend in the 17th and 18th centuries. The picture to the right is a drawing of a 'safety coffin'. The hand of the deceased was attached to a bell, so if they, by some weird chance, woke up while buried, they could ring it and be saved. This followed stories written by Edgar Allen Poe and rumours of corpses being dug back up with scratch marks on the inside of the coffin.

Weekend Walkthrough: And in the Morning, by John Wilson

And in the Morning, by John Wilson
Published by Kids Can Press
Amazon.co.uk/Amazon.com

Jim Hay is fifteen, thinks war is a glorious adventure, and cannot wait for his turn to fight. But as his father boldly marches off to battle in August 1914, Jim must be content to record his thoughts and dreams in his journal.

All too quickly, however, Jim's simple life begins to unravel. His father is killed in action, his mother suffers a breakdown, and when he does at last join up, it is as much to find a refuge as it is to seek glory.

What Jim discovers in the trenches of France is enough to dispel any romantic view of the war. Soon his longing for adventure is replaced by a basic need to survive, and the final tragic outcome is one he never could have imagined. 

As well as looking for a book I could review for the Weekend Walkthrough, this book appealed to me for selfish reasons. When I was in sixth form, my English class had to write a transformation from one type of literature into another, and I decided to turn Wilfred Owen's poem Dulce et Decorum Est into a series of letters. You can read it here if you like, although I make no promises that it will be up to anyone's standards! I've gone off topic a bit, but the blurb made me think of what I wrote. Dulce et Decorum Est is my favourite poem ever - it's so full of power and poignancy - and I hoped that this book could channel that somewhat.

And in the Morning is presented originally as a diary, and then as a mix up of diary entries and letters to Jim's sweetheart, Anne. At the beginning, Jim is incredibly naive, and has been swept up in the glory and hype surrounding the First World War. He can't wait to go. It's only Anne, and to some extent his best friend Iain, that come close to making him aware of war's many negatives. The story goes through personal events for Jim before eventually, he and Iain lie about their ages and go to war.

I can't say I was overly impressed, unfortunately. Whether it is just because of what came to my mind when reading the blurb, or something else, I found the story really one-sided. I guess that's the danger with diaries/letters! It also seemed very much means as an educational book rather than something to read and get lost in. I felt a slight fondness for Jim and Anne and felt a little bit sad/happy when the occasion called for it, but that was about it. I think John Wilson tried to cover all bases in giving the picture of WWI, even including news snippets, but there wasn't enough feeling there. It'll be a great book for homework, but it doesn't induce the emotions it had the potential to.

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How did World War I start?

The causes of World War I are a little complicated, so I'll try to keep things simple. Tensions were high between Austria-Hungary (then made up of several countries) and Serbia, to the point where both countries were looking for a reason to go to war between themselves. On 28th June 1914, Austro-Hungarian heir, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, was assassinated by a member of a Serbian secret society - the Black Hand. While this website mentions that nobody really cared about the death of Ferdinand, it was the spark Austria-Hungary needed to start war with Serbia. Being really simplistic here, it then became about whose 'side' certain countries were on. The most notable were: Austria-Hungary, Germany and Italy, who formed the Triple Alliance, and the Triple Entente (or Allies), on Serbia's side, formed of Great Britain, France and Russia.

Entry requirements

When the war started in 1914, a shorter period of service was brought in, so that men could serve for "three years, or the duration of the war, whichever the longer." Men between 18 and 38 could join up, although they had to be taller than 5' 3'', and could only be sent overseas from the age of 19. However, in this book and Mudlark, there was a very lax attitude to ages, in which young faces were sometimes ignored and ages not checked in order to achieve the numbers expected. In And in the Morning, there is mention of a 14-year-old boy giving his age as 16 and being told to "go for a walk round the block and come back when you're 19." There's also a 16-year-old character, Albert, whose mum finds out about his enlistment and brings his birth certificate to the base in order to drag him back home.

Crime and punishment

According to this website, 80,000 men were identified as having shell shock, as it was known back then (it's now nearer to what we'd call post-traumatic stress disorder). The disorientation and shock of being bombed (and possibly injured), mixed in with other atrocities, meant that some men were 'wounded in mind'. There was little sympathy for those afflicted with this, and if a man was caught 'deserting' his post, even if it was only as a result of shell shock, or because he was cold and wanted to get warm, it was possible he could be court martialled.

Particularly at the beginning of the war, if he was found guilty of deserting, the sentence was often death. Twelve of his peers would be called in to form a firing squad. The soldier would be tied and blindfolded, with something placed over his heart as a target. Each of the twelve peers would fire their gun - it was said to be less damaging for them this way, since nobody would know who had shot the fatal bullet at, if not their friend, their colleague.

According to this website, 306 British and Commonwealth soldiers were executed, with none of them receiving posthumous pardons or appearing on war memorials until a ruling overturned this in 2006.

'Modern' warfare

It may be worthwhile to note that the Second Boer War had only finished 12 years before the First World War. In the Boer War, a common strategy was to ride horses into battle - a cavalry attack. It was therefore likely, according to this website, that most senior military personnel believed it was the most effective way of fighting. However, trench warfare became predominant throughout WWI, rendering horses ineffective.

Trenches are deep ditches formed in lines. They were deep enough for soldiers to stand in, although as the Germans were the first to dig, they usually got the higher ground. This meant that Allied soldiers often spend a lot of time in flooded trenches. See this blog post for more information. Trenches would then be protected with sandbags (to absorb explosions and gunfire) and barbed wire (to stop enemies passing). The strip of land between the trenches of both sides was known as No Man's Land, as stepping foot onto it usually meant certain death. It's usually a sign of attrition now - which was General Haig's preferred way of doing things. It basically meant to wear down the other side until it was weakened through loss of soldiers.

Unfortunately, this went both ways. Other methods of killing (other than guns) were tanks, used for the first time, and poison gas such as chlorine, which clung to and eroded any moist parts of the body (so nose, eyes, mouth, and ultimately, lungs).

Propaganda and censorship

Propaganda was used by the government to get as much of the general public as possible on side, as well as tight-lipped about information, so spies could not report anything of use back to their countries. Famous examples are of posters and illustrations urging people to do their bit for the war effort and enlist, like the one pictured.

Poetry

A vast amount of poetry was generated by soldiers fighting in World War I, much of which is still studied in schools. There's even mention of it in And in the Morning, a poem of which is below, by Isaac Rosenberg. Firstly though, I thought I'd include Dulce et Decorum Est, as I mentioned it earlier and it's the one that, for me, is the most evocative poem I've ever read, although it's not mentioned in the book. The title was taken from the Latin saying 'Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori', which meant 'It is sweet and meet [right] to die for one's country'.

Dulce et Decorum Est, by Wilfred Owen - (this website explains its unclear terms well)
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Returning, We Hear the Larks, by Isaac Rosenberg
Sombre the night is.
And though we have lives, we know
What sinister threat lurks there.

Dragging these anguished limbs, we only know
This poison-blasted track opens on our camp -
On a little safe sleep.

But hark! Joy - joy - strange joy.
Lo! Heights of night ringing with unseen larks.
Music showering on our upturned list'ning faces.

Death could drop from the dark
As easily as song -
But song only dropped,
Like a blind man's dreams on the sand
By dangerous tides,
Like a girl's dark hair for she dreams no ruin lies there,
Or her kisses where a serpent hides.

Mudlark, by John Sedden

A little while ago, my interest was piqued while visiting my grandparents in Portsmouth. I was experiencing Sunday train delays at their finest, so they took me for a walk to see the newish statue commemorating the mudlarks on The Hard. My grandpa, the most avid history-lover I’ve ever met, started going into the backstory of the mudlarks from when he was a policeman in the 1950s/60s.

I’ll go into more detail after my review. My interest in mudlarks having been caught, I stumbled upon the following book on Amazon:

Mudlark, by John Sedden
Published by Puffin
Amazon.co.uk/Amazon.com

Portsmouth 1914. Reg and Jimmy are mudlarks. They dive for coins in the thick mud of the harbour. But one day Reg finds a skull – and it changes everything. It starts a murder hunt that lands them both in serious trouble with the police. They’ve always done everything together – and now they’re facing death.

Although mudlarks were also found in London, diving for pennies in the Thames mudbanks, this book is set in Portsmouth, so I was really enthusiastic to read this, hoping I’d know where the characters were larking about. Going to stay with my grandparents every half term means I know the area fairly well. Sure enough, most of the time I knew where the characters were, which added to my enjoyment of the book. In general, though, Sedden describes the scenes well enough that anyone could pick the book up and become immersed in the landscape of the book.

Jimmy and Reg, the first-person protagonist and his best friend, were really realistic too – there were things like Reg having a stutter, the number of dead-arms the boys give each other (!) and the sense of guilt Jimmy feels when he realises he’s in the wrong, which made the boys really 3D, relatable characters.

I loved that the book brought to life a picture of not only mudlarking, but the start of the First World War and everyday people’s reactions to it. The twists that take place in the book can’t be guessed from the blurb, and I found myself surprised a lot of the time. The solution to the mystery had to be explained to me just as much as it did to Jimmy and Reg, which is rare, as I can usually guess what’s coming from at least a couple of pages before. PLUS, the solution was historically accurate. Double tick!

I’ve since lent this book to a workmate’s 11-year-old son, so I’ll update if I hear an opinion from him. I reckon this book will appeal to boys (and probably girls too!) around 11-14, especially those with a love of history. Mind you, once I get the book back I’ll be sending it to my grandpa, who I’m sure will love it. It’s his old stomping ground, after all, although he’s never been as nasty as the policemen in the book!

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This book has given me a new idea. I’m a complete history geek, so I was thinking maybe once a month I’d do what I’ve done today – review a historical fiction (or possibly nonfiction – such as The Diary of Anne Frank) book, and then go a little deeper into the history behind it. I love researching these things, and if it’s something others would want to read, that’d be great!

Feedback would be greatly appreciated – please let me know what you think, and whether you’d read something like this! I was thinking the first weekend of every month, and calling it Weekend Walkthrough :-).

Inscription reads:

The nearby statue commemorates the generations of Portsea children who enjoyed mudlarking here - entertaining travellers by retrieving coins they threw into the mud below the bridge to the harbour station and Gosport Ferry. Boys and girls would scramble to find the money tossed down, sometimes diving into the mud, performing handstands or dipping their heads in it. Many Portsea families lived in poverty, so the small change was welcomed. Usually, what the children did not spend on sweets or pie and chips was given to mum to help out the family finances.

Most parents disapproved of their children's activities, while the police regarded mudlarking as begging and tried to stop it. Mudlarking supplemented other ways of earning a few shillings, such as carrying passengers' bags or finding drivers parking spaces. The building of the new bus terminus in 1976-7 put an end to mudlarking.

Also inscribed is a list of names of previous mudlarks. This statue reminded me a little of Archie and Lillie, two mudlark characters in the book.

Mudlarks

The definition of a mudlark is given by the Oxford dictionary as “a person who scavenges in river mud for objects of value. Historical: a scruffy or dirty child who spent most of the time on the street.” As the book is set in Portsmouth, I’ll keep to the Portsmouth mudlarks, although it appears that the term was widely used in London too, for those getting what they could from the Thames. Those living in London can still go mudlarking if they want to – it’s now for historical artefacts rather than spare change, but the link here gives details of dates that groups will meet up to go together.

 Margaret Foster is a Portsmouth councillor who campaigned for the erection of the statue in Portsmouth. She wrote a book, called The Mudlarkers, and for it, interviewed several former mudlarks. According to them, soldiers would empty their pockets to throw to them. “At the time they just thought their luck was in but now appreciate the significance of men giving away the last of their money before going off to war.”

While some have said that mudlarks could come from wealthier backgrounds, the general consensus is that mudlarks didn’t have much money. Reading Mudlark, it became obvious to me just how poor Jimmy and his mother were when I read that her ambition was to save enough money to buy Jimmy a pair of boots.

Plus, did you know that the Pompey accent isn’t far off from Cockney? People’s stories from online have people remembering mudlarks saying things like: “Bung us a bob matlow [Give me a shilling, sailor]”, and “Dip me ‘ead for a sparsy [possibly a sixpence]”.

Lastly, it seems fitting to mention a mudlark quote in Margaret Foster’s book again: “It wasn’t just the mudlarking. We’d chop up firewood and sell bundles of that, and jump on the side of people’s cars and take them to a parking space. We’d get a shilling for that.

“From the age of about five, we knew how to put a loaf of bread on the table. But we were quite happy to work. They were hard times but not one of the people I spoke to said they didn’t enjoy themselves.

“It couldn’t happen again. Not with health and safety and there isn’t that same kind of poverty. But we were safe children and happy children.” 

Old money

Helpfully, Sedden includes a brief explanation of old money so the readers know what the mudlarks are referring to - see the picture. I was going to try and put old money in context but it appears to be impossible, so if you're interested, this page gives a brilliant explanation of everything.

To conclude my little mudlarking history lesson (tee hee!), I thought I'd mention my grandpa again. I've already mentioned that he was a policeman in the 1950s and 60s, and that he and my grandma brought my attention to the mudlarks. Poppa told me that he was always reluctant to head over to The Hard whenever he was told to move the mudlarks along (as they were considered beggars) - they were only trying to make a living, after all. This picture here is him in his police uniform - I love it!

UPDATE: I sent my grandpa his own copy of the book, and he finished it in a day, saying it was delightfully over the top. My grandma is currently reading it. So there we go - a book for all ages!