Monthly Archives: November 2008

History Travel

The usual York scenes

I spent a day in the city, since I was nearbyish (Huddersfield), and trying to avoid a horror (three trains and a bus) journey back to London on Saturday night. So instead I got the horror Sunday night train trip of (two trainloads crammed into one) journey instead – cattle truck hardly did it justice.

Still I got to see Clifford’s Tower, with its sad history…

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York Minster…
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And was reminded that this was where Constantine was crowned emperor…
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Possibly under this very column…
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I found it a curious city – one of those where the modern and the ancient are mixed in sometimes frustrating ways – here’s the wonderful ancient Shambles, there’s M&S; here’s a wonderful medieval hall, there’s a shabby bus stop.

Which kind of made Jorvik Viking site somehow right – they’ve obviously done an enormously good job on the archaeology, and really ineteresting reconstruction, but then they’ve kind of turned it into a half-hearted theme park, so you ride around the reconstruction and don’t get the chance to stop and look at things nearly as closely as I’d have liked.

Possibly the best bit in the entrance, where you walk down (more than two normal flights) through the layers…
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And I wouldn’t recommend arriving on a Saturday night and wandering around town, as I did – it is hen and stag night city, which isn’t an attractive scene…

History Travel

York Castle Museum – social history par excellence

Notes from Sunday’s trip around the museum – which really is a very fine show, with a focus very much on local, social history

Cleaning
The claim is that there was not much cleaning to be done before Victorian revolution of “stuff”. Sand was used on floors as it soaked up grease and dirt, mixed with ground oyster shell to clean food utensils. In the country bran was used for “washing up”; the husks soaked with fat and food remnants fed to pigs.

Early mechanical cleaners blew the dust upwards, supposedly allowing it to be swept up more easily. Hubert Cecil Booth recognised that this was the wrong way around and in 1901 patented the vacuum cleaner. The first was mounted on a horse drawn cart and pipes fed through windows.

In 1908 James Murray Spangler invented the first lightweight domestic vacuum; William H Hoover bought the rights.

An 18th-century tax on soap put it out of reach of very poor. Only repealed in 1853.

Moules’ earth closet was patented by the Reverend in 1860. The tank held dry earth, which was flushed into bucket after use.

The first toilet paper appeared in 1857, billed as medicated paper and sold as sheets in flat packet. To avoid embarrassment chemists sold it from under the counter. First roll in 1928, soft paper in 1932 and first coloured paper in 1957.

Urine was added to water to help clean clothes and bleached them because contained ammonia. In Yorkshire it was called wetin or old wash. Lye was also used, made by passing water through clean wood ashes and known as buck wash.

In a comment on today’s obsession with cleanliness, the quote was of an old saying “Every man must eat a peck of dirt in his life (about 6 litres).”

Babies
One remarkable exhibit is of a caul worked into parchment that became record of birth for mountain family from 1830 to 1860.

In the very poor area of Walmgate York in 1898 one in four babies died. The 1902 midwives’ act made for big drop.

Really telling local stories, here are the baby goods of Mrs Hull, whose son Stephen was born in 1956 after she’d had five miscarriages and an ectopic pregnancy. She wasn’t allowed even to carry handbag during the pregnancy. She was in labour from 1am saturday until 7pm sunday. The baby was allergic to milk and had to be fed with marie biscuits soaked in very weak tea on a spoon.

Farming

In east Yorkshire there was a unique way of life: the horsemen were young and unmarried and remained on annual contracts long after rest of country stopped the practice. Usually when they got married, however, they became skilled farm labourers who had little to do with horses. (Seems like an awful waste.)

This is a bee skep, which was used to keep bees before wooden hives invented. On moors left on a flat stone, ideally in a sheltered, sunny position.

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A common tool was a turnip chopper. This was an important part of 18th and 19th crop rotations, but awkward for animals to eat.

Comb-making
Oxhorns were steeped in water for months to soften, solid tips cut off for buttons. Then a tradesman called a horn presser cut the hollow horn along length, soaked it again and careful held over fire, moving constantly. Scorched horn lost malleability, when soft enougj opened with pincers and heated bw two iron plates, plates were then turned over to craftsmen to be carved or turned. A horn comb factory was established in York in 1794 by Joseph Rougier and became largest in Britain; closed 1931 due to competition with plastics

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The museum also boasts a fine little collection of medieval porcelain (unfortunately unlabelled)…
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Politics

Defeats, and (possibly) a victory

Sadly, if perhaps not entirely surprisingly, the referendum in San Francisco for decriminalisation of sex work was defeated. But, say its proponents, they are getting closer.

Less seriously, but also sadly, a move to name the city’s sewage works after George W Bust was also defeated.

And in New Zealand, the pretty solidly leftwing prime minister Helen Clarke has been beaten by a rightwinger. That leaves only five women at the head of governments around the world.

But, says Katha Pollitt in an interesting and not entirely tongue-in-cheek piece in the Nation, the presence of Sarah Pallin on the US stage has had positive effects:

Palin’s presence on the Republican ticket forced family-values conservatives to give public support to working mothers, equal marriages, pregnant teens and their much-maligned parents. Talk-show frothers, Christian zealots and professional antifeminists–Rush Limbaugh and Phyllis Schlafly–insisted that a mother of five, including a “special-needs” newborn, could perfectly well manage governing a state (a really big state, as we were frequently reminded), while simultaneously running for veep and, who knows, field-dressing a moose.

Books Science

Myxomatosis in Britain

Over on Blogcritics I’ve a review of a book on the introduction of Myxomatosis into Britain in the 1950s. Not the most riveting thing I’ve ever read (by some distance), but some snippets of interest.

History

Medieval boom and bust in England

At the Doomesday survey in 1086, only about 5.9m acres was under arable cultivation, less than a quarter of the possible total. Some areas were as closely settled as practical – Flegg district in east Norfolk had the same population as it would in 1801. But there was plenty of space for the 12th and 13th century expansions, as the population (to 1315) doubled at least, while the craft and urban sectors also increased demand. The arable area had reached from 10m acres (it was 10.5m in 1800) and some of the areas under the plough then — parts of Dartmoor, the sandy East Anglian Breckland, and the heaviest midland clays – would not be ploughed again.

The number of draught horses was perhaps 400,000, and 800,000 owen (162,000 and 650,000 in 1086 respectively). This meant the rinderpest epidemic of 1319 was particularly destructive.

But only about a half to two-thirds was actually ploughed each year – the rest was fallow to allow recovery of the nitrogen balance.

As a counterweight to the theory of the “tragedy of the commons” theory, actually these were run by rules developed in the common interest, and were stable over centuries. “This, after all, was the social world from which sprang the team sport of football.”

Woodland was subject to intensive management – coppiced in the areas of most demand. “This was especially the case in the counties of the south-east, where a strong local demand for wood was reinforced by the more powerful regional demand of London, and, in the case of Kent and Sussex, by demand from the thricing coastal towns and cities of northern France and Flanders.”

“Little of the land of England served no agricultural purpose whatever. Wastes, moors and heaths supplied feed to sheep and free-ranging cattle, and during the 13th-century the development of commercial rabbit warrens turned the most barren sands into gold.”

But in 1315 came the bust – the start of the Great European Famine of 1315-1321. And starvation patterns were as ever uneven – London with its wealth kept drawing in grain. “Agenoese speculator responded to the exceptional prices previaling… by shipping 1,000 quarters of wheat to London and selling it to an agent of the king.” Areas near London, whose produce was shipped in, however, did badly.

“Probably between a quarter of a million and half a million people perished of starvation and starvation diseases in England’s worst recorded subsistence crisis.”

An interesting portrait of rural England, drawn from B.M.S. Campbell, “The land”, in R. Horrock and W.M. Ormrod, A Social History of England, 1200-1500, 2006 (which is I’d imagine intended as an undergraduate text – the intro has what I thought was a very good survey of the main theoretical arguments about the Middle Ages.)

Blogging/IT Politics

Around and about…

Over on My London Your London I’ve just posted a review and commentary on the Liberty exhibition at the British Library. Simply the most important, relevant exhibition you could imagine. See it! (Or at least vote in its online survey.)

Elsewhere, on Mercurius Politicus Carnivalesque 44 has taken on a delightful early modern tone – definitely not to be missed.

And this week’s Britblog Roundup on Liberal England is an unusually delightful, broadranging selection.

Finally, I’m unable to resist pointing to this story, which really speaks for itself in its headline: Brainy children ‘likely to vote Green’.