In this article, Jennifer Johnstone looks at what Charles Dickens thought about poverty in 19th century Britain. And considers what Dickens may think about modern-day attempts to reduce the size of the British Welfare State.

 

No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.

- Charles Dickens

 

By observing Charles Dickens’ work, what is clear is that poverty is a major theme. Dickens was an outspoken social critic in general, but especially about poverty. Before the birth of Britain’s Welfare State, which aims to support the poor, Dickens sought to help the poor by highlighting the social inequality in his country. In this respect, Charles Dickens was a man ahead of his time. The British Welfare State was founded in 1945, with the aim of providing people with a safety net ‘from cradle to grave.’ Dickens identified the reality of poverty many years before that. He acknowledged that poverty was not the fault of the people who endured it, but rather, the fault of the establishment, including the government. Indeed, I daresay that he would be of the same view today – that poverty is the fault of the government.

Mr Bumble, the beadle from the workhouse, leading Oliver Twist. The painting is based on the book Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.

Mr Bumble, the beadle from the workhouse, leading Oliver Twist. The painting is based on the book Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.

How would Charles Dickens view modern poverty?

The short answer is: he would have had as much contempt for the way society treats the poor today as he did when he was alive. With modern Britain vilifying the poor, or those on benefits, Dickens would have seen this as an attack on the poor; instead of society trying to eradicate poverty, society is blaming the poor for something that is outside of their control. Victorian Britain condemned ‘idleness.’  This Victorian attitude is something that we see creeping back into modern society. Since Margaret Thatcher came to power in 1979, Britain has been slowly eradicating its Welfare State. This weakening of the Welfare State is essentially attacking the poor, because, the poor rely on the Welfare State, whether they are the working poor, or the unemployed poor.

Dickens would have seen this as classism. And condemned it as such. He quite clearly condemns classism in Oliver Twist, and A Christmas Carol. Dickens, in both these works, portrays the rich as greedy, and as people who are unsympathetic to the poor.

 

The Poor Law

Dickens condemned ‘The Poor Law.’ This law resulted in the middle and upper-classes paying less to support the poor. In much the same way, Dickens would have said that cutting poor people’s benefits in modern Britain, was about punishing the poor. The book A Christmas Carol comes to mind at this point; we can view Scrooge as the symbol of taking more and more from the poor. We can see similarities with the Poor Law, and cuts to unemployment benefits today.

But, was Dickens right, was the Poor Law an attack on those who were poor? I think the answer is yes. The first reason is that The Poor Law attacked the impoverished, and meant that the richest contributed less. The second reason why the Poor Law attacked the poorest was because it forced people into the horrible workhouses. Workhouses were deliberately cruel. Usually one would only enter a workhouse as a last resort; they were internationally hard places to live in, forcing people into work in harsh conditions, even children. Not only that, but, as we see in Oliver Twist, people were not given an adequate living area, and nor were they fed well. Proper nutrition was absent within workhouses, except for the rich who worked in them.

Within the workhouses, people were essentially treated like prisoners; not human beings who were just unlucky enough to be born into poverty. The only seeming difference with workhouses and prisons was that the door was always open with workhouses. But, in reality, people did not have the choice to leave as they had no means to support themselves.

 

Oliver Twist

Dickens novel Oliver Twist is about an orphan boy. In the novel, Oliver is born within a poorhouse, but his mother dies. Later Oliver is sent to an ‘infant farm.’ Finally escaping the poorhouse, Oliver is sent spinning into the dark underworld of London, working for a gang of thieves led by Fagan and the Artful Dodger, Bill Sykes and Nancy. The reader sees through Nancy’s character, that those who are forced into this criminal underworld (in Nancy’s case - prostitution), are forced into poverty because of the problems in the system. Not only does it destroy their lives, but it also has a negative impact on society at large. We often see Nancy as a sympathetic character, one who tries to get Oliver out of this life of crime. It is interesting that Dickens uses Nancy’s character, as a symbol of domestic abuse. Not only does Nancy represent domestic abuse, but she also seems to be symbolic of the Victorian’s beating down on those who were sympathetic to the poor. It also seems like an indirect criticism from Charles Dickens to the state for having such an attitude.

 

In Conclusion

Dickens was a writer who often injected his work with realism and social criticism. His work may have included ghosts or time travel (A Christmas Carol), but Dickens work was more about reality than fantasy. And that is what makes Dickens’ novels so memorable; we are being educated about Victorian Britain, but in a way that is engaging to the reader. At the very heart of Dickens’ writing is a very serious message: the tragedy of inequality, poverty, and deprivation. In the second part of my analysis of Dickens, I want to turn to what can only be described as the dark side of Dickens.

 

Part 2 in this series will follow soon. In the meantime you can read more about crime in 19th century Britain here.

 

Now, if you enjoyed the article, please like it, tweet about it, or share it by clicking on one of the buttons below!

References

  • http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/dickens/bleakhouse/carter.html
  • http://classiclit.about.com/od/dickenscharles2/a/aa_cdickensquot.htm
  • http://exec.typepad.com/greatexpectations/dickens-attitude-to-the-law.html
  • http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/dickens/diniejko.html
  • http://orwell.ru/library/reviews/dickens/english/e_chd
  • http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-16907648
  • http://www.dickens.port.ac.uk/poverty/
  • http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/dickens/bleakhouse/carter.html
  • http://charlesdickenspage.com/twist.html
  • http://www.theguardian.com/politics/blog/2012/jan/12/welfare-reform-charles-dickens
  • Little Dorrit: http://www2.hn.psu.edu/faculty/jmanis/dickens/LittleDorrit6x9.pdf
  • Olive Twist: http://www.planetebook.com/ebooks/Oliver-Twist.pdf
  • A Christmas Carol: http://www.ibiblio.org/ebooks/Dickens/Carol/Dickens_Carol.pdf
  • The Noble Savage: http://www.readbookonline.net/readOnLine/2529/

In this brilliant article, David C. Weinczok looks at an often unknown 14th century declaration in Scotland – and how it has influenced some of the most important revolutions in history as well as the modern world itself.

 

The evolution of Western political thought has been driven and accompanied by a pantheon of great works, documents not only of theory but of praxis that help to steer, redirect, or indeed even rebuild the ship of state. Beginning, perhaps, with Plato’s Republic, we can trace this pantheon through various points of political, and therefore historical, development and upheaval: Machiavelli’s The Prince and oft-neglected Discourses, Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan, Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s The Social Contract and John Locke’s Two Treatises of Government being among the best known and most influential of them. Documents veering further from the realm of theory and grounded more firmly in concrete political incidences, such as the Magna Carta or the Declaration of Independence of the United States, are nonetheless heavily influenced by the philosophical environments in which they were conceived. There is one constant and notable absence from this assemblage, however, that deserves a restoration in the democratic consciousness – Scotland’s Declaration of Arbroath, written as a fervent assertion of national sovereignty and, most significantly, of the reciprocal relationship between rulers and the people.

Robert Bruce, King of Scots, kills Sir Henry de Bohun in the Battle of Bannockburn, 1314. From a Chronicle of England: 55 BC - 1485 AD. Published 1864. 

Robert Bruce, King of Scots, kills Sir Henry de Bohun in the Battle of Bannockburn, 1314. From a Chronicle of England: 55 BC - 1485 AD. Published 1864. 

Plea of a nation

The Declaration of Arbroath was one part of a diplomatic package of appeal sent by the Scots to Pope John XXII, whose court was in Avignon. Robert Bruce, King of Scots (1306-1329), had been excommunicated in 1319 after the Scots had broken a Papal truce by recapturing Berwick-upon-Tweed from the English the year before. This and other hostile actions against the northern shires of England were part of a concerted effort to bring the English king, Edward II, to the negotiating table concerning Scotland’s status as an independent nation, an effort which had so far been for naught. Bruce himself was summoned to appear before the pope in May 1320, but instead sent the Declaration alongside a personal letter stressing the longstanding relationship between the Papacy and Scotland, its ‘special daughter.’ The Declaration was signed by 49 Scots nobles in addition to Bruce himself, including Walter Steward, progenitor of the Stewart line of Scottish and later British kings, as well as the infamous James ‘the Black’ Douglas, the scourge of northern England.

Largely forgotten following its publication, the Declaration of Arbroath was only rediscovered in the 17th century, and it was not until the 19th and 20th centuries that it “acquired the status of a surrogate Scottish constitution” (Lynch, 111). In approximately 1,200 words the Declaration reinforced for its audience the mythological foundation of Scotland, its desperation in the face of relentless attempts towards its subjugation, and its right to be recognized once again as a nation of its own as it had been from the 9th century until 1296.  It came at a delicate time – Scotland was reeling from the exhaustion of the Wars of Independence, which saw it struggling against not only the might of England but from internecine rivalries and civil war.

Many modern Scots know by heart the most famous passage from the Declaration:

 …for as long as one hundred of us remain alive, we will never consent to subject ourselves to the English.

 

However, the passage that deserves international attention, and which earns the Declaration of Arbroath a place among the great documents in the evolution of political thought, immediately follows the defiant words above:

But after all, if this prince [King Robert] shall leave those principles which he hath so nobly pursued, and consent that we or our kingdom be subjected to the king or people of England, we will immediately endeavor to expel him as our enemy, and as the subverter of both his own and our rights, and will choose another king who will defend our liberties.

 

Robert Bruce, Scotland’s hero-king and champion of the Wars of Independence, put his name to a document declaring in no uncertain terms that he would be driven out just the same as the English if he betrayed his nation’s cause. How could such a thing be possible in the fourteenth century, an age of the Divine Right of Kings and absolute monarchy?

 

The Scottish Wars of Independence: Setting the stage for a social contract

The Scottish Wars of Independence were essential to the political and intellectual environment from which the Declaration of Arbroath would emerge. In 1286 the Scottish king, Alexander III, fell to his death during a terrible storm and so triggered a crisis of succession. The English king, Edward I, a respected Machiavellian monarch of the highest order, was brought in to arbitrate the dispute between the Scottish families vying for the crown. His choice was John Balliol, who proved to be an ineffectual leader hopelessly caught between the irreconcilable demands of Edward and the Scottish nobility and clergy. In 1296 Balliol bit the hand that fed him by forging what would become known as the ‘Auld Alliance’ with France, enraging Edward and resulting in Balliol being ceremonially stripped of his royal regalia and the Scottish throne itself. Edward had enough of puppetry – no longer willing to rule by proxy, he set himself upon the course for conquest.

So began eighteen years of English military occupation of Scotland, beginning with the horrendous sack of Berwick, then a part of Scotland, in which most of the city’s 15,000 inhabitants were put to the sword, and ending with Robert Bruce’s resounding victory over the English army under Edward II at Bannockburn. Before Bruce’s controversial coronation in 1306 (the controversy being due to his murder of his main rival to the throne, John Comyn, at the high altar of Greyfriars Kirk in Dumfries only weeks before), many Scots still thought of Balliol as the rightful king of Scotland despite his political failings. In 1302 William Lamberton, Bishop of St Andrews, sought a legal justification for renouncing Balliol in favor of a more assertive king. He found the crux of his argument in the teachings of Duns Scotus, a philosopher-theologian, whom he met with in Paris. Scotus argued that:

The real root of royal authority…had nothing to do with inheritance. A king whose power was legitimate was king because his people granted him their consent, and if that consent were to be withdrawn for any reason then the man was king no more. (Oliver, 126-127)

 

A king (or queen) was therefore not one thanks to any ‘right’ attained through wealth, title or divine assent, but because of their service to their people and community. The failure of Balliol to act as a steward for Scotland’s best interests, combined with the disasters that befell Scotland during the Wars of Independence, gave Duns Scotus’ conception of a custodian-king a great deal of appeal. It helped, of course, that there was one ready made in the person of Robert Bruce.

For the Scots, one of the consequences of the Wars of Independence was an emergent sense of a single political community and national identity. The publication of several works in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries amounting to an ‘official’ history of Scotland, including John Barbour’s Brus and Walter Bower’s Scotichronicon, helped to instill a hitherto unprecedented level of Scottish self-awareness (Lynch, 112-113). This self-awareness came alongside vigilance, not only against external enemies but internal ones as well. Scots had learned the hard way that the national interest, that being the wellbeing of the people, must be preserved against the constant threat of the waywardness and ambitions of those chosen to rule.

 

The legacy of Arbroath

This notion of kingship would largely recede during the reign of the Stewart kings of Scotland (and later Britain), which, especially during the reigns of James IV, V and VI, entrenched absolute monarchy back into the depths of the Scottish political mindset. One would not be remiss in asking, then, to what extent the Declaration of Arbroath changed the political scene at all, given its fall into obscurity very shortly after its reception at the Papal court. There remained, however, a telling difference between Scottish kings and other European monarchs throughout the Medieval period, one that harkened back to the kingly ideal put forward by Duns Scotus. The King of Scots, until the Union of Crowns in 1603, was precisely that – the King of Scots, rather than the King of Scotland. It was a subtle difference, but in an age dominated by kings who asserted their authority over the very earth upon which their nations were built, it is one that warrants further attention.

The Declaration of Arbroath would influence the minds and pens of those men and women who set their hearts to the work of democracy in the modern age. For instance, as many as one third of the signatories to the American Declaration of Independence were Scotsmen or of Scottish descent. Thomas Jefferson, who claimed Robert Bruce as an ancestor, was undoubtedly affected by the Declaration of Arbroath due to his education at the college of William and Mary under the Scotsman William Small, who Jefferson would describe as being “as a father” to him (Caledonian Mercury, 2011). More fundamentally, though, the Declaration of Arbroath was a deep chink in the armor of any system that sustained itself through the self-interested actions of the individual(s) in charge. Hence its sentiments, whether consciously or not, would emerge again and again in struggles such as the French and American Revolutions, as well as in the general popularization of accountable political structures that would ultimately be expressed through the spread of democratic governance.

In such ways has the Declaration of Arbroath, a letter from a king to a pope at the height of the Medieval world, shaped the modern one. In so doing, it has surely earned a place among the standard works to be studied by learners of politics, history, ideas and power. 

 

Now, read on! Here is an article about intrigue in 15th century England – The Princes in the Tower.

PS - Please like or share the article by clicking on the links below!!

Works Cited

Caledonian Mercury. ‘The Scottish influence on the US Declaration of Independence, from Arbroath to the Enlightenment.’ Feb. 2011. Web.  http://caledonianmercury.com/2011/02/10/the-scottish-influence-on-the-us-declaration-of-independence-from-arbroath-to-the-enlightenment/0013857

Caroline Erskine, Alan R MacDonald & Michael Penman (Eds.). ‘Scotland: The Making and Unmaking of the Nations c.1100-1707.’ Dundee University Press in association with The Open University in Scotland: Dundee, UK. 2007.

Lynch, Michael. ‘Scotland: A New History.’ Pimlico: London, UK. 1992.

Neil Oliver. ‘A History of Scotland.’ Phoenix: London, UK. 2010.

 

This week we show you all of King Henry VIII’s six wives. Plus, we will tell you how to find out about the one that got away – ‘wife’ number seven.

 

We all know that King Henry had six wives and here they all are... That’s right, scroll on down for images of all of King Henry VIII of England’s wives. Plus, find out about number seven!

Number 1. Catherine of Aragon. Divorced 1533.

Number 1. Catherine of Aragon. Divorced 1533.

Number 2. Anne Boleyn. Beheaded 1536.

Number 2. Anne Boleyn. Beheaded 1536.

Number 3. Jane Seymour. Died 1537.

Number 3. Jane Seymour. Died 1537.

Number 4. Anne of Cleves. Divorced 1540.

Number 4. Anne of Cleves. Divorced 1540.

Number 5. Catherine Howard. Beheaded 1542.

Number 5. Catherine Howard. Beheaded 1542.

Number 6. Catherine Parr. Outlived King Henry VIII.

Number 6. Catherine Parr. Outlived King Henry VIII.

And what about wife number 7?

Here is the story of the nearly wife… Click here!

George Levrier-Jones

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AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones
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Following our look at Body Armor in World War I, this month Adrian Burrows looks at a second bizarre warfare invention – the bat bomb. This was a weapon that was both odd and powerful.

 

There have been many defining weapons in man’s military history, devices that for better or worse forever changed our view on the world and our place within it. However, this series of articles won’t be looking at any of these historically important moments; instead I choose to highlight the weird, peculiar and just plain daft inventions of war that are just so odd… that they had to have been real.

 

So, what do I have for you this month? I give you… the Bat Bomb.

First things first. I believe some clarification is in order. By Bat Bomb I do not mean the high tech compact explosive you would find on the utility belt of the caped crusader (Batman), no, I actually mean an incendiary device attached to a bat.

The 1967 Batman Annual. Available here.

The 1967 Batman Annual. Available here.

This idea came to fruition in the midst of the Second World War and was the brainchild of a Pennsylvanian Dentist named Dr. Lytle S. Adams (yes, that Lytle S. Adams, none other than the inventor of the fried chicken dispensing machine). Recoiling from the shock and horror of the recent attack on Pearl Harbor by the Japanese, Adams came to consider ways in which America could strike back at its faraway foe.

Dr. Adams knew that the vast majority of buildings at this time in Japan were constructed from paper, bamboo and other very flammable materials. He had also witnessed the behavior of bats during a recent holiday in New Mexico, particularly the manner in which the winged wonders found small crevices to shelter in during the day.

 

THE BATS

Taking into account these two factors Dr. Adams had an epiphany; the results of this epiphany can be easily seen through a number of steps written as bullet points for easy digestion. I like to think this is how Dr. Adams planned out his idea but there is no historical evidence to prove this to be the case…

  1. Get some bats.
  2. Attach a bomb to the bats.
  3. Drop bats over Japanese cities.
  4. Bats spread out far and wide before finally hiding themselves in the dark recesses of buildings.
  5. After a period of time the bombs explode causing fires to spread rapidly across Japan creating chaos, panic, and destruction.
  6. Back to work… 10.45am. Patient. Root canal.

 

It was certainly the case that Dr. Adams’ idea was unconventional; however, there were top bods in the American government who believed that despite the oddity of using flying mammals as an offensive weapon that the theory was sound. That the bat bomb actually could work.

Adams submitted the idea to the White House in January 1942, where President Roosevelt himself authorized the further development of the project. It fell to the inventor of military napalm, Louis Fieser, to devise an effective bomb that was also light enough for the bat to carry. Fortunately for Fieser, bats can carry more than their own weight in flight, so the bomb he developed was roughly the same size as a bat and was an impressively diminutive sixteen grams in weight.

The bat bomb itself.

The bat bomb itself.

Now that Fieser had bombs attached to bats, the next problem to overcome was to actually get all of them to Japan. And for this there was created an elegant and cunning solution. A device so simple and yet so genius I will write the details of it in its own paragraph.

A big metal box.

Yes, a big metal box with multiple compartments that could be used to house the hibernating bats. A parachute was stuck to the back so when it was dropped by a plane at high altitude over Japan, the descent of the box could be slowed. At 1,000 feet the bats were awoken from the hibernation; the compartments then opened and 1,000 bat bombs were released.

If at this point you are thinking that I’m making it up (and who can blame you), then have a look at the big metal box in question. 

The big metal box.

The big metal box.

NUCLEAR WEAPONS

So, how come the bat bomb was never used?

Well it was, although only as a test admittedly. Even so, the military were very pleased with the results of the bat bomb when it was deployed on a mocked up Japanese village built in the Dugway Proving Grounds of Utah. Yes, there were some setbacks along the way (the bats set fire to Carlsbad Army Airfield Auxiliary Air Base when they roosted under a fuel tank, resulting in property damage and a high death count of bats). Nonetheless, the effectiveness of the bat bomb appeared to be promising. Not only that but bat loving mathematicians also surmised that ten B-24 bombers could carry over one million bats to their target.

So, to ask the question again, how come the bat bomb was never used?

Essentially the atomic bomb rendered it irrelevant. The new weapon was so devastating in its power and so terrifying in its annihilation of life that the bat bomb was consigned as a footnote in history.

On the surface the bat bomb seemed like a ridiculous idea; after all, attaching explosive devices to any sort of animal seems like something you would watch in a cartoon. However, what if the bat bomb was used before the atomic bomb was dropped on Japan? What if this seemingly absurd weapon managed to bring a close to the Second World War? What kind of world would we live in if an atomic bomb had never been used on a civilian population?

Let’s leave the final word to the inventor of the bat bomb himself, when commenting on why his invention - ‘X-Ray’ - would have been a much better weapon to use on Japan than ‘Little Boy’ or ‘Fat Man’:

Think of thousands of fires breaking out simultaneously over a circle of forty miles in diameter for every bomb dropped.

Japan could have been devastated, yet with small loss of life.

 

Adrian Burrows works for Wicked Workshops, an organization that brings historical workshops to primary schools across the UK. They are currently delivering many workshops about World War I. Click here to find out more about this great organization.

 

Want to read more? Well, here is an article on the Cold War and World War III.

Principal References

  • http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2011/04/old-weird-tech-the-bat-bombs-of-world-war-ii/237267/
  • http://hushkit.wordpress.com/2012/06/26/napalm-bats-the-bizarre-true-story-of-bat-bombs/
  • http://gizmodo.com/the-pigeon-guided-missiles-and-bat-bombs-of-world-war-i-1477007090/all

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In this article, Kevin K. O’Neill looks at crime in early 19th century London. This was an age before the birth of the police, and in this grimly Dickensian world, crime was rife. Some of the crimes committed were simply shocking.

A street scene from 19th century London.

A street scene from 19th century London.

“Napping a Tick”, “Doing Out and Out with a Pop”, and “Teased” were but a few examples of the slang used by the denizens of London’s underworld in the early 1800s for stealing a watch, killing someone with a gun, or being hung. Before the formation of the Metropolitan Police in 1829 by Sir Robert Peel, the original “Bobbie”, London was fertile ground for crime to take root and grow. Sparsely lit by gas in only a few select areas, London was dark, in some areas even by day. With the murk of burnt sea coal hanging over the docks that were busily taking in valuable goods from every corner of the world, all manner of crime was possible, crime that was abetted by this dim anonymity. With a population of about one million inhabitants in the early 19th century, London was sharply divided by class with much of the disenfranchised lower classes active only at night. The only official watchmen, known as “Charlies” because of their creation in 1663 during the reign of Charles the Second, were armed only with a stave, lamp and rattle. Often morally and physically decrepit, they were rarely effective and often the butt of jokes. Indeed, a pastime for the drunk or bored was knocking them over in their watch-boxes.

 

Social Issues Grow

By the mid-18th century many factors were contributing to the need for a unified police force and social reform. One of the main influences lied in the pervasive effect of cheap gin, or “Blue Ruin”, on the lower classes of England’s populace. In some areas there were unlicensed gin shops, and the crime rate was proportionate to the density of these establishment. Some gin houses, termed “Flash Houses”, were meeting spots for criminal gangs and liaisons between underworld operatives and the greater public, including law enforcement, who would drink and gather information. In 1780, fueled in part by Blue Ruin and economic disparity, peaceful demonstrations against laws emancipating Catholics turned into what history remembers as the Gordon Riots, as part of which there was mob rule during a week long orgy of window shattering and violent assault. Much was said in Parliament after these riots, but little was done.

A scene from a slum in London.

A scene from a slum in London.

Crime was rampant in early 19th century London, with numerous types of thievery permeating many aspects of life in London. Burglary from houses was so common that elaborate precautions had to be taken before leaving home for any amount of time longer than an hour or two. Every coachman was a guard as trunks could be cut from their vehicles in the blink of an eye. Petty thievery was a threat from many vectors such as the destitute “Mudlarks”, who wallowed in the mud of the River Thames hoping for valuable goods to be dropped from ships by chance or on purpose. Swarms of pickpockets haunted the richer areas of the city. Many of the petty thieves were children as young as ten, but arrests are known of children aged six. Beggars, often living the most pitiable existence, lined many of the same streets.

This all meant that several private law enforcement agencies were formed so that businesses and citizens could protect themselves from loss. Known for their fleetness of foot, the exploits of the Bow Street “Runners”, employees of an organization created to watch and protect property on the docks, were followed by the public with sportsman’s glee as they pursued the more successful thieves before they gained safety in the dark slums or “Rookeries.” The rookeries were notoriously dangerous areas in which nobody or nothing was safe - be it life, limb, or property.  Charles Dickens once ventured into several rookeries, including the notorious “Rat’s Castle,” as the St. Giles Rookery was known, but did so only with an escort consisting of the Chief of Scotland Yard, an assistant commissioner, three guards, probably armed, and a squad within whistling distance. Perhaps more worryingly, a bold doctor who entered a rookery commented that he couldn’t even find his patient in his room until he lit a candle, despite the time being near noon.

 

Resurrection Men

And on to a crime that seems almost unbelievable…

Many of us are familiar with the horror movie theme of stealthy men with slotted lanterns lurking about graveyards with spades in hand in search of a fresh grave. This theme has more basis in fact than most realize as the “Resurrection Men” performed this ghoulish task on most every moonless night to supply the British medical community with fresh cadavers for study and dissection.

The story goes that as a deterrent to crime The Murder Act of 1752 allowed judges to substitute public display of an executed criminal’s body with dissection at the hands of the medical community thus giving the Resurrection Men legal elbow-room. The activities of the doctors and body snatchers were despised by many of the general public though. And mob justice was often dealt out to Resurrection Men caught performing their grim work, while patrols were increased at the upper-class graveyards and the rich bought special coffins to ensure their undisturbed rest peacefully. Finally, the public’s unease at the practice became anger with the Burke and Hare murders of 1828 in Edinburgh.

Burke and Hare, a pair of Irish immigrant laborers turned Resurrection Men, decided to expedite matters by killing sixteen people to be sold to the proxies of an Edinburgh anatomist, a doctor named Knox. The term “burking” traces its origins to the method they used for killing - the use of a pillow to smother victims. Once caught Hare turned the evidence against Burke in court. Ultimately, only Burke was convicted; after Burke’s execution, a hanging attended by thousands, he was publicly dissected in front of students at the University of Edinburgh. Those left outside without tickets demanded to be let in, until finally being led through the operating theater in groups of 50.  Never interred, Burke’s remains were doled out for medical study, with pieces of his skin being used for books and calling card cases.

There were other co-defendants in this trial and they suffered similar fates to each other. After release from prison they were hounded by mobs at first identification. All were aided by the authorities to flee in various directions in search of security through anonymity. Never prosecuted due to his insulating layer of agents and Burke’s denial of his involvement in his confession, even Dr. Knox was vilified by the populace who hung and burnt him in effigy. It is notable that Burke asked that Dr. Knox pay five pounds owed to him for his final victim’s body so he could be hung in new clothes. Trying to address both the needs of the medical community and the moral outrage of the people, The Anatomy Act was passed in 1832.  This law ended the use of executed murderers for dissection while enabling relatives to have the ability to release bodies of the newly deceased for the good of medical progress.  For those who passed without known relatives, legal custodians such as public health authorities and parish councils were allowed the same right.

 

Now read on to find out about more on crimes in 19th century England, including the original Tom and Jerry, and a famous death in London. Click here.

 

Did you enjoy the article? If so, let the world know by clicking on one of the buttons below! Like it, tweet about it, or share it in one of hundreds of other ways!

Bibliography

The Maul and the Pear Tree, Critchley and James, 1971

Thieves’ Kitchen, Donald Low, 1982

This week’s image is of the small village that perished during World War II.

 

The following images of the week have a shocking story at their center.

Tyneham was an idyllic English village, but World War II changed that. And this eventually led to the crumbling of the village, something that our photos show. Above we see a great, boarded-up building, while below we see the ruins of buildings in the village.

Want to find out more about Tyneham?

Well if you have an iPad or iPhone, take up a trial of History is Now magazine and find out for free!  Click here to download the app!

George Levrier-Jones

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AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones

Samantha Jones looks at the Nuremberg Trials in a modern context. These trials took place in the aftermath of World War II and sought to condemn those Nazis who had committed some of the most heinous crimes in the history of the world.

A Nazi parade.

A Nazi parade.

Politics tells us justice is blind, and that it is justice that is fundamentally right in our society. Yet history shows us this may not be true. In the aftermath of World War II, the Western world’s form of justice was put to the test. And looking back we are troubled with the question: did democracy fail?

As Nazi leaders were confronted with their crimes against humanity in front of an international military tribunal, the entire world learned the truth behind The Final Solution, Concentration Camps, medical experiments, and the extent of Nazi genocide. These war crimes shined a spotlight onto a new and modern form of warfare, where civilians became targets and war no longer had to be declared upon a country to invade it. It was no easy feat to punish the Nazis, as the victorious Allied Powers had to question and convict those they had caught, as well as deter future nationalists from committing such crimes again. But that is what the Nuremberg Trials attempted to do.

It is said the infamous Nuremberg Trials marked the end of the Third Reich and Hitler’s Nazi Empire. Indeed, despite the Soviet Army storming Berlin, Nazi uprisings were still a threat to the triumphant Allies. So it was decided that to ‘clean up’ Europe legally and politically, the Allies were to hold a series of trials in order to fully understand and punish Nazi criminals in a democratic setting. The trials were held from November 20 1945 to October 1 1946, in the German city of Nuremberg. This site was chosen because of the somewhat intact Palace of Justice, a suitable building for the event, and the symbolism attached to Nuremberg, after the passing of the Nuremberg Laws against the Jews in 1935.

One prosecutor, one judge and one alternative judge from the Allied Powers oversaw the trial. Those that were caught included 23 high ranking Nazi officials, including the notorious Goering, Speer and Hess. Of course the highest Nazis such as Hitler, Himmler and Goebbels were not present, as they had escaped punishment through suicide before capture.

But as the news of the devastation of the war in Europe spread to the corners of the globe, interest and attraction into the Nazis grew enormously. Because of this, the Nuremberg Trials were filmed and covered by the global media, something that was to follow in other major world events.

 

HOW MIGHT THE TRAILS BE DIFFERENT TODAY?

The Nuremberg Trials are a small sliver of history, particularly among the World War Two era, yet this event marks the beginning of several major practices and institutions. For example, the power and dominance of democracy, the involvement of the media, and the use of knowledge and education as a deterrent were present during the Nuremberg Trials. However, looking back, would the trails be undertaken differently today?

One theme that needs to be addressed is the arguable leniency upon the Nazi prisoners. For example, even today it is debated whether it was unjust that Albert Speer, Hitler’s architect, was sentenced to merely twenty years in prison and lived the rest of his life a free man. Despite being sentenced to death, Hermann Goering, Hitler’s successor, escaped justice by committing suicide in his cell. It remains a mystery how this was able to happen. And Rudolf Hess, Hitler`s Deputy Fuhrer, was sentenced to prison where he too committed suicide. Discussing these awful things in such a dismissive tone is not my intention. But remember the graphic pictures of the Holocaust victims and the Concentration Camps that still stand today because of these men. Just under half of those charged at Nuremberg were sentenced to death, yet it was these Nazi men that were committed to gassing, killing and removing an entire people from the face of the earth. Perhaps justice was not served, but nor was revenge.

Aside from this somewhat macabre observation, the Nuremberg Trials did make advances. The organization of evidence and the methods used to explain the Nazi occupation helped the world to understand what actually happened. The Trials also contributed to the development of international legal institutions that attempt to seek justice in global crimes, such as the United Nations and the Genocide Convention. Of course it is debated whether these institutions are successful, yet the message they stand for began in Nuremberg.

History has and will repeat itself though. Crimes against humanity have been committed on an unimaginable scale quite recently, as seen in Rwanda and with Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge. Unfortunately, with these events in mind, it is hard to argue whether or not justice can remain democratic or if can it be transformed into a form of revenge.

It is easy for our generation to look back upon Nuremberg and judge those in charge for their leniency or their harshness. But equally, as time pushes the deep dark crimes of the Nazis further back into history, I wonder how future generations will judge us on what we do. Perhaps justice will be served then.

 

You can read about how the radical Freikorps were one of the pre-cursors to the Nazis in issue 3 of History is Now Magazine. The magazine is available for iPad and iPhone and is free for at least one month when you try the magazine on a subscription. Click here for more information!

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AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones
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In this extended article, Rebecca Fachner looks at the story of King Henry VIII’s seventh wife – the one that got away. We venture in to the tale of Catherine Willoughby, one of the most enchanting women of her age and Henry VIII’s would-be wife.

A portrait of King Henry VIII of England from the National Maritime Museum, London.

A portrait of King Henry VIII of England from the National Maritime Museum, London.

The study of Henry VIII’s wives has been well documented, studied and even gossiped about from Henry’s era to the present day. There has even been a certain well-costumed TV series about his exploits that has brought the story into our living rooms in HD. What the series lacks in historical accuracy it makes up for in revealing clothing, but it is a useful exercise to see the drama unfold in something like real time. The way the narrative generally goes is that after five dramatic marital entanglements, Henry found himself a sixth wife and settled down to a contented, albeit brief, domesticity with her. She was as much a nurse as wife and was selected to see him though his last years placidly.

That narrative is comforting and provides a nice bookend, but there was actually more drama with Henry’s sixth wife than is generally supposed. For one thing, while Henry wanted to marry her, Catherine Parr was by no means keen to marry him. She was twice widowed already and in love with another man, Thomas Seymour, brother to Jane Seymour the late mother of Henry’s heir. Henry was not in love with her, at least not in the way he had been with several previous wives, but was hoping for someone who could be more of a helpmeet than bedmate.

In other words, this was no love match. There was presumably some affection on both sides, but more than any of Henry’s other marriages (save Anne of Cleves), this marriage was one of convenience. And if Catherine Parr was forced to marry a man she did not love, she consoled herself with the religious implications of her match. Parr was a fervent Protestant, embracing the so-called “New Learning” and the Protestant Reformation, and she considered it an honor to be the consort of the king who had freed England from Rome. She hoped that as his wife, she might be able to further his religious reformation and promote this New Learning throughout England. The problem with this idea, she quickly discovered, was her new husband. 

Henry was not at all interested in being a religious reformer, and in fact was quite conservative in all religious matters. He had broken with Rome because he disagreed with the Pope, not Catholicism. Henry had wanted a divorce, and the Pope did not grant him one, which precipitated the break with Rome, but he was no evangelical. Other than his belief that he was head of the Church in England, Henry did not deviate from the Church on matters of doctrine; indeed, he considered himself a loyal Catholic until the end of his life. From his perspective, it was the Church that had wronged him, not the other way around. It was a great disappointment to his Protestant would-be reformers, including his sixth wife, but Henry had no interest in sweeping religious change.

Despite this, or perhaps in spite of this, Catherine Parr gave her patronage as Queen to reform minded Protestants, even having a serious reformer as her private minister. She was close friends with several known reformers, including Catherine Willoughby, Duchess of Suffolk. She was bravely outspoken about her beliefs, and predictably earned enemies among Henry’s more conservative ministers. It eventually got her into real trouble with her husband, to the point where he was planning on having her arrested and taken to the Tower for interrogation. There were even rumors that he had a seventh wife already picked out as a replacement.

Catherine Parr.

Catherine Parr.

Rumors about a seventh wife

The rumored seventh wife was an even stranger pick for Henry than his sixth wife. Catherine Willoughby, Dowager Duchess of Suffolk, was one of the most intelligent, fascinating women of her age. She was decades younger than Henry, but that was by no means an impediment to their marriage; it was much more common and accepted in Tudor England for large age differences between husband and wife. Henry’s fifth wife was decades younger than him, his sixth was only four years older than his daughter Mary, and Catherine Willoughby had been 15 when she married her first husband who was 47. What was more problematic was that her previous husband had been one of Henry’s oldest and closest friends, Charles Brandon. Henry had known Brandon since childhood, and one of his previous wives (like the king, Brandon had many marriages) was Henry’s sister, Princess Mary. 

Another strike against the Duchess was her parentage and upbringing. She was the daughter of Maria de Salinas, the best and oldest friend of Catherine of Aragon, Henry’s first wife (to borrow a phrase from the Bard, it was indeed a tangled web they wove). She had been childhood friends with Princess Mary and very likely enjoyed the same humanist education as Mary. And although it might have been awkward, her association with Henry’s first wife would not have been an insurmountable obstacle. The real problem was that Catherine Willoughby was just as radically Protestant as Catherine Parr, more outspoken about it, and possessed of a sharp tongue and a biting wit.

It must be said that Catherine Willoughby did have several critical advantages. Henry knew her well, and so if he was indeed contemplating marriage, he must have known what he was getting himself into. She was the widow of a much older man already, so she had experience caring for an aging husband. She was young enough to bear him children, but she only had two with the Duke and therefore any failure to conceive could be blamed on her and not any possible impotence on Henry’s part. She was also wealthy and influential in her own right, and while Henry did not need her money, he could be reasonably assured that she was not the tool of a faction at court with an agenda of its own, as Jane Seymour, Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard had been. Having been burned before by grasping factions at court, Henry selected Catherine Parr by himself; it stands to reason that he would do that again. Perhaps most crucially, like Parr, she was a widow. As Karen Lindsay points out in her study of Henry’s wives, marrying a widow had distinct advantages for someone with Henry’s marital record. He had proven an imprecise judge of a woman’s virginity upon marriage, for example, thinking that Catherine Howard had been a virgin when he married her but later discovering she was not. Marrying a respectable widow made the question of virginity a moot point, which suited Henry just fine.

Catherine Willoughby was born to Maria de Salinas and William Willoughby, the eleventh Baron Willoughby de Eresby, on March 22, 1519. As her father did not have any surviving sons, she inherited his title and lands upon his death when she was seven. She grew up at court, as her mother attended Queen Catherine of Aragon, but after her father’s death she became the ward of Charles Brandon, first Duke of Suffolk and brother-in-law to the King. It was common practice to have wealthy minor children become the ward of a powerful courtier to safeguard their inheritance. She was sent to live with the Duke and Duchess at their estates, which kept her at relatively safe distance when Henry VIII decided to repudiate Queen Catherine. Initially the Duke planned to have his young ward marry his heir, Henry Brandon, hoping, not unreasonably, to keep her rather large inheritance in the family. When his Duchess died unexpectedly, Suffolk decided to marry the young heiress himself. His heir Henry died a year later, and he and his young Duchess had two more sons, Henry and Charles. The Duke died in August 1545, around the time that Henry was becoming disenchanted with Catherine Parr. 

 

Catherine Willoughby, Duchess of Suffolk.

Catherine Willoughby, Duchess of Suffolk.

How serious was Henry VIII about taking another wife?

It is hard to know how seriously Henry contemplated marrying Willoughby; he did not leave any direct evidence either way. It is true that he had grown disenchanted with Parr, and he was one to look for a new wife before shedding his present one. Had Catherine Parr been executed, it is reasonable to assume he would have married again; he obviously enjoyed being married and wanted someone to care for him in his old age.

The rumors that the King was inclined in Willoughby’s favor come from letters that the Imperial Ambassador, Francis van der Delft sent to the Emperor. In Calendar of Letters, Despatches, and State Papers, relating to the Negotiations between England and Spain, it is noted:

I am confused and apprehensive to have to inform your Majesty that there are rumors here of a new Queen, although I do not know why, or how true it may be. Some people attribute it to the sterility of the present Queen, whilst others say there will be no change whilst the present war lasts.

Madame Suffolk is much talked about and in great favour.

 

Willoughby’s biographer Evelyn Read dismisses the rumors, and claims that van der Delft was making this up, but does not offer any explanation as to why the Imperial Ambassador would invent something so specific to report to the Emperor. It may be that van der Delft was uninformed; however, his letter to the Emperor makes it appear that he is reluctant to discuss it, but feels that it is important enough to warrant a mention. Why would the Imperial Ambassador make up this story out of thin air to pass on to his employer? It seems unlikely that the Imperial Ambassador spent his time inventing rumors and gossip to impress his boss. He did not simply report that Henry was considering another wife, he named names. If the Duchess of Suffolk’s name was not attached to this rumor already, what reason would van der Delft have to falsely link her to the King’s plans? More likely, he heard the gossip somewhere at court and reported it. This does not make the rumor true, but clearly van der Delft heard this gossip somewhere credible enough to be worth reporting to the Emperor. 

Needless to say, Henry did not take a seventh wife; Catherine Parr talked her way out of the jam she was in with the King, regained his good favor, and Henry died about a year later. Catherine Parr and the Dowager Duchess of Suffolk remained close friends until the end of Catherine Parr’s life, and when Parr’s young daughter by Thomas Seymour became orphaned, Willoughby became her guardian. Willoughby continued her advocacy of Protestantism, even fleeing to the continent when Queen Mary restored Catholicism to England. And she did marry again, to a fellow Protestant in her employ, Richard Bertie, and had two more children by him, Susan and Peregrine Bertie, thirteenth Baron Willoughby de Eresby. Catherine Willoughby died on September 19, 1581 aged 60 at Grimsthorpe, the home she had inherited from the Duke. 

 

What do you think? How close was Henry VIII of England to having a seventh wife?

 

Meanwhile, you can read more about King Henry VIII and how he impacted the English Civil War here.

Bibliography

Hume, Martin A.S., ed. Calendar of Letters, Despatches, and State Papers, relating to the Negotiations between England and Spain, preserved in the Archives at Simancas, Vienna, Brussels and elsewhere. Vol. VIII Henry VIII 1545-1546. London: Mackie and Co. Ltd., 1904.

Lindsay, Karen. Divorced, Beheaded, Survived; A Feminist Reinterpretation of the Wives of Henry VIII. Cambridge: Da Capo Press, 1996.

Read, Evelyn. My Lady Suffolk; A Portrait of Catherine Willoughby, Duchess of Suffolk, New York: Alfred Knopf, 1963.

 

 

In this often light-hearted article Janet Ford considers the famous 1950s Civil Defense film Duck and Cover. The film uses a turtle, Bert, to teach children – and adults - how to respond in the event of a nuclear bomb.

 

Before you read on, you can watch the film Duck and Cover here.

Bert the Turtle in a still from Duck and Cover.

Bert the Turtle in a still from Duck and Cover.

During the Cold War, but especially during the 1950s and 1960s, the US Federal Civil Defense Administration produced numerous leaflets and films that informed and educated the American public about the atomic bomb, the damage it caused, and what to do if an atomic bomb was dropped. One of the most well-known Civil Defense films is Duck and Cover, which was produced in 1951 and first broadcast in January 1952. It was produced by Archer Productions in co-operation with the Federal Civil Defense Administration and in consultation with the Safety Commission of the National Educational Association.

In this article, we will consider the film and pick out some of the most famous (and infamous) aspects of it.

So before you read on, why not watch the film here?

 

The use of a cartoon

Central to the film is the animation. There is animation in parts throughout the film, but especially at the beginning and end. It was used to get the attention of children, and to make the message of duck and cover easier for them to understand. The animated nature of the film also made it markedly cheaper to show a bomb explosion in the film, as shown in the still from the film below.

Animation showing the destruction of the bomb, with Bert the Turtle in the foreground.

Animation showing the destruction of the bomb, with Bert the Turtle in the foreground.

​Unless the Civil Defense Administration visited the Nevada nuclear test site and filmed a bomb going off, it would have been nearly impossible to show a live explosion. Another point to note is that showing the damage the bomb caused can make the animation seem a little darker, but as it is a cartoon the destruction appears less real and more abstract.

The most famous aspect of the animation is the character of Bert the Turtle. He is one of the most famous icons of the Civil Defense Administration, showing the nation how to protect itself from the bomb. The main reason for having Bert in the film was to get the attention of a younger audience.

A still of Bert the Turtle.

A still of Bert the Turtle.

Even though the subject matter itself could not be much darker, there is one other menacing part of the film that is found in the animation. This may not have been seen by all viewers, and it took me a few views to see it, but once you see it, you cannot fail to notice it. In a scene towards the start of the film, Bert the Turtle is minding his own business, and suddenly there is some dynamite following him; it is not a magic piece of dynamite though - it is being held by a monkey in a tree. The dynamite then goes off and Bert ducks and covers; however, the monkey that had been holding the dynamite vanishes. In fact, the monkey is blown up by its own dynamite.

Before the dynamite goes off.

Before the dynamite goes off.

After the dynamite goes off.

After the dynamite goes off.

Music

Another famous aspect of the film is the very catchy theme song and music. Indeed, as I am writing this, the song is in my head, and once you have heard the song, it will be in your head for a long time too.

The music itself is quite cheery and upbeat and even the lyrics are not too negative. The most menacing lyrics are 'when danger threatens him', but then it is followed by 'he never got hurt, he knew just what to do.' The images above with the monkey and the dynamite are shown over this music. This makes the theme song, unintentionally, a little darker as you have the image of a monkey being blown up while listening to the song. The song can also seem to lessen the danger of the bomb and even the process of Civil Defense, as they are linked to a cheery song.

 

How to Duck and Cover

The main purpose of the film was to show the public, and especially children, how to duck and cover in various situations. It shows how to duck and cover in school and at the home. But it also shows you how to protect yourself when there is no shelter around. And this is the most infamous aspect of the film.

One scene in the film features two children, Patty and Paul, who are just walking down the street. The flash of the bomb goes off and they dive into a wall and cover themselves with their coats. What makes this absurd is that ducking and covering would not do much use if the building they were by or other buildings around them fell onto of them. Furthermore, it seems that Paul smashes himself into the wall. 

Patty and Paul ducking and covering by a wall.

Patty and Paul ducking and covering by a wall.

Another seemingly strange part of the film features a young boy called Tony who is riding his bike. He sees the flash, drives into a wall, and covers himself up. The film thus suggests that walls are a good place to go to protect yourself - although the wall would not have given much protection even if a blast was coming from the other side of the wall.

Tony ducking and covering by a wall.

Tony ducking and covering by a wall.

However, even more bizarrely is the scene with a family having a picnic. The family are all having a lovely time until they see the flash. Then the mom and children go under the cloth, while the dad uses the newspaper for protection. It is this idea of using a newspaper or sheet as protection that seems to be the most ridiculous aspect of the film.

The father using a newspaper as protection.

The father using a newspaper as protection.

Walls and covering yourself with a thin object would have given some protection from the bomb, but only if it was miles away and there was not much debris from the blast. In short, they would provide only a very small level of protection. Saying that, while we can of course look back at the film and make fun of it, when nuclear bombs were as big a threat as they were in the 1950s, the idea of an everyday object like a newspaper being used to protect yourself must have given people some hope.

Even so, there would have been those smarter souls who would have realized that a newspaper could never protect you from a nearby nuclear explosion and accepted their sad and inevitable fate.

 

What do you think of the video? Share your thoughts below!

 

References

All stills were taken from the film Duck and Cover here: https://archive.org/details/gov.ntis.ava11109vnb1

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AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones
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