Distractions from Novel writing...

I have been writing a novel for over a year now, and have now gotten to the stage where I could type it up and it would read like a complete novel, which I have tentatively started doing. Unfortunately I cannot write fiction when typing, I must have pen (black) and paper (thin lines or plain pages).

The problem I now have, is that I have to research it more thoroughly, to make it historically accurate. Sounds boring, but, actually, it’s too interesting! Every day I start with a plan to research, say, food in the restoration period, and end up reading “The Strange and wonderful history of Mother Shipton with all her famous prophecys, shewing how they have all along been fulfilled to this very year” (1686). Or ‘THE FIRST BOOKE of the Naturall and Morall Historie of the East and West Indies’ (1604).

Interesting, yes, (at least I think so) but not what I was meant to be doing! I’ve started gathering all the interesting bits into various documents; one for names, ones for places, a folder of Newspaper clipping files, a folder of artwork. Now I have this distracting treasure trove of good ‘stuff’, and have been trying my hardest to not get sidetracked by it.

This morning, I decided that I WOULD let myself get sidetracked by it – BUT – only for a couple of hours a day.

So my side-project was born, a group of short stories to which I can turn to in times when my novel is the last thing I want to look at, but I don’t want to not do ANY writing. After all, what time is better for writing a novel than when you are unemployed? Endless days of nowhere to go (and no money to go anywhere), and that melancholy sense of isolation that has leant itself to such good writing in many authors…

Anyways, here are some things I have come across in my researching travels:

Firstly, a useful recipe I think we could all do with in our lives from 1591;

To Bake a Pig like a Fawne

Sley him when he is in the haire, season it with pepper and salt, cloves and mace, take Claret wine, Clergious, Rosewater, Cinamon, Ginger and Sugar, boyle them togither, laye your Pig flat like a Fawne or a kidde, and pour your soup onto it and swaet butter, and so bake it leisurely.

Erm, maybe next week.

And here is an account of perhaps the most famous of Mother Shipton’s predictions:

When it was reported that Cardinal Wolesley intended to live at York, she publickly said ‘He should never come thither’ which reaching his ear, and being much offended, he caused three lords to visit her, who came disgused to Ring House near York, where leaving their men,they took a guide, who knocked at mother Shipton’s door. She cried out within ‘Come Mr Beasty’ (their guide) ‘and those other lords with you’. which much surprized them that she should know them, for when the entered she called them by their names and treated them with ale and cakes, where upon one of the lords said ‘if you knew our errand, you would not make so much of us, for you said the Cardinal would not see York’.

‘No’, says she, ‘I said he might see York, but never come at it.’

‘Well’ sais the lord,’ when he does come you shall be burnt’. Then taking off her linen kerchief from her head she sais ‘if this burns, then I may burn’ and immediately flung it in the fire, and after quarter of an hour, took it out, upon which it was not so much as singed. Upon which one of the Lords asked her what she made of him ‘My Lord’ said she ‘the time is coming when your grace will be as low as I am, and that is a low one indeed.’ Which was true, for shortly after the lord was be-headed.

Nor was her speech of the cardinal less verified, as he coming to Cawood, asked where York was, and it being shewn to him, said ‘there is a witch who said I should never see York’. ‘Nay’ sais one present ‘his eminence is misinformed. She said you may see York, but never come at it.’

the cardinal vowed to burn her when he came there, which was but only 8 miles distant, but was immediately sent back for by the King, and died of a violent Looseness at Leicester.

I think the last bit is my favourite

Melton and the Bunny Huggers,or: Destruction, desecration and development - Is our Heritage under threat?

Aside from the title being an amazing name for an Echo and the Bunnymen cover band, (in my opinion anyway), most people interested in British Archaeology will by now be familiar with "Bunnygate".

It all began when Councillor (And Building contractor, oh and former Bricklayer) Alan Melton, gave a speech at the Fen Building awards a week ago.

In it he said that, as of July 1, developers would not be required to observe archaeological and heritage requirements of planning conditions. He also implied that he would 'look the other way' if these LAWS were violated, saying his planning committee were "on board" and that he did not want to be "bothered" with any issues. Then he uttered the words "The bunny huggers won't like it" and started spouting some nonsense about Polar Bears floating down the Nene (global warming will decrease the Polar Bear's habitat, not increase it, anyway!).

Now, Mr Melton seems to have gotten three groups of people mixed up - Ecologists, Archaeologists, (Skeleton Squeezers?)and Scientists (Bunsen botherers?). Archaeologists are actually not very fond of 'bunnies' at all - the dig through the underground archaeology and generally get in the way. Also, I'm not quite getting what global warming has to do with an archaeological site evaluation...

His claims, made apparently in order to save money on building developments, seem to be rooted in gripes stemming from personal experiences, shown in his telling comment that; “after the experiences I endured,[...] I shall be taking a keen interest!”. Presumably referencing his own troubles renovating Chatteris house, a Grade II listed building, into leaseable flats 2 years ago.

This proposal is against the law and is therefore not within Melton’s power, yet his worrying implications that he may ‘look the other way’ if these laws are violated, gives rise to fear that elsewhere, financial gains could be prioritised over the preservation of our national archaeological heritage, all in the name of the recession.

Bunny huggers comment aside though, what Mr Melton has done could actually work in favour for the current state of affairs in British Heritage. He has exposed his own ignorance, which is made all the more worrying when he is Lead councillor for the Fens council, an area that has produced some remarkable archaeological finds just in the past decade; discoveries include a Roman town at Stonea and the superbly preserved, 3000 year-old timber-platform settlement recently discovered in quarries at Must Farm, Whittlesey. In turn this has exposed the general fear that continued ignorance and lack of awareness will mean lasting damage to our unique British Heritage.

Just this month, Priddy Circles in Somerset was the victim of such damage: Part of one of the Neolithic ritual sites, thought to be contemporary with Stonehenge, was BULLDOZED flat! Then, to add insult to injury, re-seeded with grass and tree saplings. Even if the ring was 'restored' - Regardless of whether the perpetrators are punished, the original work, and archaelogical context is lost forever.

There have been numerous instances of Heritage crime in recent years, graffiti at Clifford’s tower, in York, and damage to a Roman site in Wiltshire from 4x4’s driving all over it. These sites, as well as Priddy circles, were supposed to be protected by the 1979 Ancient Monuments and Archaeological Areas Act, making any damage to such sites a criminal offence: But there cannot be people 'on watch' 24 hours a day at these monuments, and, sadly, some people think they can get away with acts of destruction such as this, and then plead ignorance later.

It is no wonder then, that the English Heritage has prompted the formation of ARCH (the Alliance to Reduce Crime against Heritage), with the aim of raising awareness and preventing these crimes.

40 Organisations have joined, and the aim is for local history groups and police forces to get involved in ‘looking out’ for areas of interest, as well as getting any crimes or suspicious behaviour reported more quickly.

With higher awareness; vandals (and uninformed councillors) will no longer be able to plead ignorance, and further damage to our unique British heritage could be prevented.

To some people these sites may be just a ‘pile of rocks’ – but surely if they can’t see the wonder in the development of man on the British Isles, from the 8,500 year old house found in North Yorkshire, to the Medieval graffiti of Norfolk churches, to the inventions of the industrial revolution, then surely that is their problem, not Britain’s?

Here are a couple of links about Heritage Crime:

http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/about/news/643873/ http://www.archnews.co.uk/featured/5232-stamping-out-nighthawking-across-britain.html

History tinted glasses...

I will admit very readily that a year ago, well, o.k a month ago - if you’d asked me what I thought about my town, my answer would have been along the lines of: “It’s claustrophobic, you can’t meet anyone without already having a mutual friend, and there really is only a total of 3 tourist attractions, one of which is a cinema.”

However, to stave off the boredom of being ‘between jobs’, I have been volunteering on a “Joining up our Heritage” project with the local records office. I did it not because I had a particular interest in the history of where I live, as the previous paragraph would suggest, but mostly because I love dusty, old documents, (even if they are just lists of sheep and cattle numbers from a farm in the 1720's) and nosing through old photos and postcards.

That, however, has now changed! I suddenly have a new passion for the place I have been itching to get out of for the past 7 years. For example, my parents own a business (I live in the flat on top, so although I have moved out of the family home I'm still expected to run errands etc. *grumble*) and part of the property is a building opposite, that is used for storage. In the course of this project, I’ve been contacting local residents of, erm, a ‘certain age’, to ask them about their memories of the village. I hope to write more on this later. Anyway, within 2 minutes Jean, a lovely lady who knitted me baby clothes and didn't believe me when I told her who I was, then asked me if this was a school project (thank goodness I still look young enough to be sixteen - quarter life crisis averted) casually mentioned that the building was used as a Winery, from the vineyards that used to be in the fields behind her house. Now, Sidlesham is not exactly a bustling sort of village anymore, but as she went on to talk about the butchers, blacksmiths and post office (1 of 2!), all in the surrounding buildings of the Garage and her house, I got a glimpse of the sort of place Sidlesham once was. I walked over to the Winery, and, for the first time, after seeing that building almost every day for 23 years, noticed one smashed wine bottle in the mortar right across the outside wall of the building, perhaps to bring luck or prosperity in that particular endeavour. My dad wasn't aware of this either, and almost didn't believe me at first, until I showed him the mortar and he remembered there is a house down the road called 'The Vineyard'.

It sounds like a small thing, but knowing that a building I have known about my whole life had a ‘secret’ like that; made me realise that there were probably hundreds of other things I didn't know about the place I was born. These past weeks I have found old maps that show huge ponds and wells, that are now just bits of field behind my house that flood in the rain, and roads, with names, that are now just overgrown footpaths.
I have donned my History-tinted glasses -seeing my village come alive for me with clues to it's past, and tramped about the footpaths looking for old barns shown on the 1840 tithe map (the centre of the project), and had a Barn Owl swoop silently and beautifully past my head out of one, and a pigeon scare the crap out of me as it flapped not so silently out of another, particularly creepy one.

I am now desperate to record what history I can from this area, before it is lost. It is surprising, or perhaps not surprising but annoying, that the elderly people of the village seem reluctant to share memories, like they fear they will be 'exposed' or will lose something. There is, unfortunately, an air of “Are you Local?” about it all. A man who moved here 5 years ago asked another lady if she was also a ‘New’ resident of Sidlesham. “Oh, yes,” she replied “I’ve only been here for 17 years.”!
Yet I am hoping I will find others like Jean, who are willing to share the knowledge they have that will otherwise become lost. It is unthinkable to me, that people could throw out old photos or diaries that belonged to a member of their family or someone they know, but it happens. Perhaps it is because my own family did not have anything to leave, except a handful of old, blurry photos, that I covet these things. I often buy old photographs I find in antique shops, not any old photo, but pictures of young couples, smiling and happy (see attached), or photos that have information like "Grandad at work in the war 1942" or "Jack's first fiance" followed by a poem, written on the back. One lady has given us 21(!) diaries that she kept all through the war, as a Land army girl, and beyond, and details that probably seemed boring, or everyday details to her, like the day that Jam rationing started, are now fascinating to all of us that are transcribing it. In fact, when people say that the daylight saving is for farmers, I now must question it, as her diary states that the farm she worked on stuck to the old time - they split who's watch was on what time, and she left for work at 7.45 and arrived at 7! So it seems that not all farmers enjoy the change either! These are items that give us a glimpse into REAL social history: Would you want the time you lived in to be defined by the newspapers of today and a handful of historians or aristocratic individuals who write down their view of current issues? Of course, we won't have that problem, everyone has a blog, a facebook page, hundreds of photos of every night out and special occasion. Even just 50 years ago, this was not the case, and I hope that I will do my bit to help preserve at least the history of the people of my little village in West Sussex. And maybe some others if I get the time, but we'll see – as it is I still have 7 people to hunt down and interview, 600 photos to go through and scan, and 14 diaries left to help transcribe...

Tracing your roots....

By now, I planned to have completed about 3 posts… However I confess that I have been distracted with researching my family tree!

Researching your ‘roots’ is very much the thing to do at the moment. My own family have long been interested in the tantalizing stories told to them by older family members, and so when my sister won a free subscription to ancestry.co.uk a few weeks ago, I decided to finally sit down and do it.

I have since found Genealogy to be a double edged sword. On the one hand, the Great Granddad we thought was Irish turned out to be born and bred in Croydon, as did the Great Grandmother we had all assumed was a gypsy based on tales of selling heather and her tattoos. Disappointment set in; romantic ideas of Gypsies and the Emerald Isle dashed with the reality of generations of Croydon Market Gardeners. This took the wind out of my sails for a bit, I actually didn’t enjoy being the person to tell everybody that, actually no, these stories aren’t true. This is ‘rubbed in’ by the fact that my boyfriend, the future “Sir Carden of Templemore” (unfortunately not as fancy as it sounds) can trace his lineage back to the 1600’s without any trouble at all, with plenty of Irish characters and scandalous stories; most interesting the psychotically persistent “Woodcock Carden” – so named because his tenants would take pot shots at him whenever he was out and about, but he remained persistently difficult to hit like the bird of the same name. He then won round these tenants after being jailed for an attempted kidnapping of the object of his affections, and was even immortalized in a rather haunting Irish Ballad: http://www.sceilig.com/cardens_wild_domain.htm

However, I persevered, and although I have felt like my brain was leaking from my ear at certain frustrating moments, I am glad I did. I went another generation back, and was met with mysteries, and lots of relatives from little hamlets in the heart of Suffolk - not quite Ireland but a beautiful county all the same! The mysteries appeared in the form of the two Great Great Granddad’s (My Nan’s Dad’s Dad and my Granddad’s Mum’s Dad) both on my mother’s side. These two men don’t appear in the censuses until after they are married. Also, they change their place of birth in the censuses they are in, and both move around a lot before settling in Croydon. So it seems I may have found my Travellers or immigrants after all! The next step is actually trying to find where they were born, their parents, and extended family; this is an ongoing project, the one I mentioned earlier that makes my brain melt. I have had to fork out a few quid and order marriage certificates so I can get their father’s names to try and help my search!

I also came across Army records of my Great Granddad, which said he was just 5ft 2”, had tattoos on both arms and was discharged from the army for committing a crime a few years before the Great War, when he was re-enlisted. Not much to be proud of exactly, but an interesting peek into the reality of my family. Beforehand all I knew was that he came back from the war with some sort of shell shock, and now I know he asked on his enlistment form for ¾ of his pay to go straight to my Great Grandma (who was very beautiful, I am told), and that he may have been the source of her “Love” and “Hate” tattoos across her knuckles! I also found out they grew up next door to each other – childhood sweethearts it would seem. All of this not only made me feel closer to my own family, but gave me a palpable connection to the tragedies of the Great War that I confess I previously found difficult to conceive.

This research also seems to have inspired people to look in their cupboards, and surrender some wonderful photographs, some of which I will link to in a bit. Another blessing in the ‘visual history’ sense is Google Maps street View. I can look at the little rural village one Great Grandmother was working as a servant, and where she married (and presumably met) my Great Granddad, giving birth to their first child just 6 months later (A common occurrence, I have noticed). Knowing the views they might have looked out on together, seeing the listed buildings that they would have walked past, is a lovely way to bring family history to life without having to drive the 4 hour journey there.

I must also admit, it is not just my family I find myself researching; anyone with an unusual name or occupation that catches my eye goes into my folder, and it adds a real richness to knowledge of history you already have, or learn/decide to look up afterwards. Take, for instance, the entire 1841 census for Phillack in Cornwall, home to such unusual names as Darkes Penberty, Carlion and Lovange. Perhaps the person taking the census couldn’t spell… I like to think one woman in the community named her child something unusual and it caught on. Or there is the 1841 census in East Grinstead, in which every family seems to have a daughter named Philadelphia!

Then, there are surprises that are unexpected indeed. My Dad did not know much of his Father's family, due to a breakdown in the marriage of his parents, and his grandparents. In fact, his grandmother married 4 times, the last time in her 50’s, divorced possibly twice (I’m looking into it) changing her name from Caroline to ‘Constance’ in time for husband number 3… She obviously had a sense of humour! My auntie’s and uncle’s memories of her were that she wore high heels and make up well into her dotage, and was a bit of a ‘one’ by most people’s standards. This was verified by the following picture http://www.flickr.com/photos/fenifursnippets/5592685700/ (I don’t think I need to point her out J). I find that I rather like her, in some parts because the picture my research painted was a little sadder than the bare facts make it seem. Widowed from her first marriage, she married my great granddad, but left her daughter with her parents. Then my Great granddad divorced her, accusing her of infidelity, and married another woman just a couple of months after the divorce himself. Their children, my granddad and his brother, were put into a boy’s school, and not visited very much. So little in fact, it seems my Granddad may not have even known his father had died at the time of his marriage; as just his surname appears on the marriage certificate, with no mention of him being deceased. At this time, it would not really have been up to Caroline what happened to her children, and I wonder how she felt about all of this. She obviously kept in contact with our family, but I wonder what happened to Winifred, her first daughter – perhaps I will find out.

It is also through Caroline that I found my long wished-for Cornish Heritage – 700 years of Tregears and Rowes, herself coming from Paul, near Penzance. As well as a Coast Guardman, William Wills, who was stationed off the Dorset coast. A brave occupation at that time, to say the least. Perhaps this is why I have a soft spot for her… Other finds included a newspaper story confirming the disappearance of my Great Great Granddad’s (on my Dad’s Mum’s side) ship – the Laurestina. Before all we had was rumours, I now know the Ship was last Seen on December 7^th 1895, sailing past Cape Henry on its way from Baltimore to Sligo, the ship itself was never found, and he left behind a wife and 6 children, one of them my great grandmother.

I think what I’m trying to say is; don’t get disappointed if you find yourself dispelling family legend, or do not find any famous names or grand connections (although I am a distant cousin, 5 times removed or something, of Aldous Huxley, something that made me very happy!). If your family aren’t of high rank, also expect to come across a lot of name changing, and birth dates varying up to 10 years, not helped by the fact that in the 1841 census, adult ages were rounded to the nearest 5.

I don’t think finding out your family history is just about “finding yourself”. I believe it is a wonderful way to get in touch with the past, with ‘real’ history, the lives people led, the places they saw, the jobs they had, both good and bad, the marriages they made and how they came about. For instance it turned out on closer inspection that my Nan lied on her marriage certificate; she was 17, not 18, and married without permission, with her Aunt posing as her Mother. This means of course that my mum and all her siblings are technically illegitimate, and also means that later, when she filed for divorce the first time and was told her husband had a ‘right’ to beat her if wanted - she could have gotten out on the basis that their marriage was void. But then life is full of ifs and buts, and my mum, and therefore me, would not be here if she had succeeded. Swings and Roundabouts and all that.

I’ve listed some of the resources I’ve used, a word of warning about ancestry.co.uk – DO NOT just lift from other people’s trees if they have researched the same family, I have found from further research that in 50% of cases what they have down is wrong! Especially for anything before the 1830’s. I have, for instance, a Robert Aldous, who could be one of three Robert Aldous’s born within 4 years in the same village to different parents – there are 6 other people researching this ‘branch’ – and its split equally as to which Robert each one has chosen! (I think I know the right one, but I’m reserving judgement until I am sure I don’t find him knocking about married to someone he shouldn’t be.

There are also lots of interesting places to gain information – don’t bypass forums, often there are people who live in faraway places only too happy to make a trip to their local Church to look up a grave or some records for you, it can be very good at filling in vital gaps! Looking through the records is also excellent for anyone experiencing writer’s block – I have 3 short story ideas and perhaps even another novel brewing after reading between the lines; and finding some rather scandalous, heroic, and sometimes sad stories hidden there.

One last caution – expect it to take over your life for a good few weeks – both my sister, who is doing her husband’s side, and I, have been up until 2 in the morning on many occasions; having told our partners we would be coming to bed “in a minute” at about 10p.m….

www.freebmd.org.uk – for a quick look up – experiment with your search terms, for example searching for the man’s surname and the first name of the wife can be more effective than using the first name for the man as well – for example I was looking for days for a “Frederick Henry G Ward” who ended up being “George J” on his marriage cert.

http://www.familysearch.org/Eng/Search/frameset_search.asp - an excellent search engine that can include variant spellings.

www.ancestry.co.uk – although a subscription fee applies, their Tree Maker is much easier than trying to put hundreds of census images in order, or scribbling on long rolls of baking paper…

http://azazella.proboards.com/ - For all your Cornish obstacles

www.rootschat.com – another great forum.

http://find.galegroup.com/bncn/start.do?prodId=BNWS The British Library’s 1600 - 1900 Newspaper database

Up next... Trepanning, Ancient Herbals and Pregnancy through history (probably anyway).

An introduction of sorts...

Thought my first post should really be a little (at least I'll try not to go on for too long) about me... Mainly because I feel I should warn you about my rather disorganised ways, I have forever been unorganised and fond of 'doing before thinking', and every attempt to rectify that has ended in some form of misery, mostly mine. I also use these -> ' () too much. I don't know where my love of the apostrophe and brackets came from, I suppose I like to talk with inflection, and try to do so whilst typing as well. I was also a fan of Algebra, which may explain the brackets. Anyway, I am 23, although if asked I will often reply "19" first, in a subconscious wish that I still was. Many people get annoyed at me being depressed about my age, especially my sisters, 36 and 34, (those are their ages, my parents didn't number us) but I defend myself by explaining that the reason I get so despondent is because by now; I was supposed to have travelled the world, lived in America for 2 years, got many more than the 2 tattoos I currently own, and was supposed to be setting up my seaside B&B in Cornwall by now. I made most of these grand plans in my teens, after a few horrible years of bullying and a rather unsavoury boyfriend (less said about that the better) and had no idea how much general 'Life' would get in the way of my dreams. I know many people do these things, a lot of my friends included, but I do seem to find that many of the people who do, either have hidden funds from somewhere (like one particular friend whose Grandad gave her 8 grand specifically for travelling) or they possess a blissfully laid back character that I used to have, but do not anymore tht means they dont care if they have nowhere to live once they get back from South America/Cambodia etc. I am however trying to get that attitude back. I also made the mistake of going to University, and allowing myself to be pushed towards a degree I didnt really want to do, mostly because I'd grown up my whole life in a school where only 2% of students got C's and above (I was one of those, but only just) and then went to a sixth form where they suddenly announced that unless I wanted to work on the Bins for the rest of my life - I would NEED to go to uni. I panicked, and picked the only thing I'd been effortlessly good at through school and people told me was 'acceptable' - English. I wanted to do archaeology, but was asked "what will you do with that?!" I now know that I could have done "Lots of things" but instead was met with derision when I replied "Be an Archaeologist". All my friends who didn't do the uni thing are now earning good money, some even have mortgages! They have travelled and have the oppurtunity to save. I, however, am sitting in my rented flat (which I am very lucky with, it's amazing but that's not the point), with a pay as you go phone, not a penny to my name (actually make that minus 2,300,000 pennies - thanks student loan!) taking any crappy job I can get, whilst finishing my last credits of the uni course I quit with History modules from the open Uni in the vain hope this may forge a base for a career in Heritage. Moral of the story - have dreams - but plan ahead, don't do what other people tell you, do whatever you want to do! So, here I am! Auntie, girlfriend to a lovely bloke I had to kiss many frogs to find (but it was definitely worth it, although I shall now stop before I make mySELF sick) with a Pet Rat named Zeusy McTip and an unfulfilled love of Travel and History, particularly 'People History'. Don't talk to me about Politics or religion - Politics because I am terribly ill-informed and religion because I will rant from now until 2012's impending apocalypse (If the Mayan calendar theory is to be believed, which, if I did believe it, I sure wouldn't be spending my last year on earth writing a blog). I live in West Sussex, which I hate and yet appreciate in equal measure, I have two sisters, who have a baby each, one of each sex, and am on a perpetual diet - which I determindly ignore in favour of cooking yummy things. I try to walk these yummy things off as often as possible, I especially like going out for a walk after scanning a map before I leave but not taking it with me - that way you get that sense of "Argh I'm LOST" adventure yet retain a vague idea of how to get back to civilisation should things get desperate. Oh, I am also writing a novel,which is quickly becoming 3 novels as I cannot decide which plots I prefer. Just realised this all sounds rather cynical, but I assure you I am full of hope! This blog is something I thought I would do to share some of the wonderous, amusing and sometimes strange aspects of life that I think may interest other people - I also realised the other day that I generally need an 'outlet' - perhaps it might even stop some of those weird dreams I've been having... Anyways, that is me, summed up in a few paragraphs, a bit humbling really. Esxcept I forgot to tell you my name - oops. It's Jenny :) I hope you enjoy my future posts, they'll be much more interesting than this -I promise! Please feel free to suggest anything you wish me to research/talk about, and let me know what things you find most interesting! If you don't like my posts however, well, don't tell me, my fragile self esteem cannot take it... ;p Speak to you all soon, and remember (those of you in the Northern hemisphere) Summer is coming!