Reviews
REVIEWS
Beyond the Horizon: Societies of the Channel and North Sea 3,500 Years Ago. Catalogue of the exhibition of the European Interreg IVa 2 Mers/Seas/Zeeën project ‘Boat 1550BC’, under the direction of Anne Lehoërff with the collaboration of Jean Bourgeois, Peter Clark and Marc Talon. 159 pp. Colour and b/w illustrations throughout. Somogy Art Publishers, Paris, 2012. Paperback, €23.00. ISBN 9782757205372.
2012 was the twentieth anniversary of the discovery by Canterbury Archaeological Trust of a sewn plank boat dating to the middle of the second millennium bc during road construction in Dover, an iconic find – the ‘Dover Bronze Age Boat’. The boat is curated in a purpose-built gallery in Dover Museum through collaboration between Dover District Council and the Dover Bronze Age Boat Trust which was established to manage the conservation and display of the boat and undertake related educational activities and research.
In the early months of 2012 a half-scale replica of the boat was con-structed as the centre piece of a touring exhibition exploring maritime links between south-eastern Britain and the immediately adjacent Continent in the second millennium bc. The project involved an extensive network of institutional partners, specialist researchers and workers, and benefactors, financial and in kind, either side of the Channel, with European Interreg funding providing the principal source of income. The exhibition’s schedule took in the Château Musée, Boulogne-sur-Mer, in the second-half of 2012; the Archaeological Museum Ename, Velzeke, Flanders, from late 2012 until early summer 2013; and then Dover Museum in the latter half of 2013. The catalogue which complements the exhibition is available in French, Flemish and English versions.
Each of the large-format catalogue’s seven chapters reflects one of the themes of the exhibition with perspectives from the regions around the littoral. A number of specialists make contributions in each chapter, well in excess of forty separate sections in all. Each chapter is extensively illustrated with colour photographs and generally clear diagrams and maps. There are brief referenced notes providing information on the objects on display articulated to the relevant narrative section which conclude with a short bibliography. The scale of the book and the close integration of the information describing displayed objects within the narrative do not make the catalogue particularly user-friendly on a tour of the exhibition which anyway is well served with informative commentaries within the displays. The reviewer read the catalogue between two visits to the exhibition, having an enhanced appreciation on the second visit. The catalogue concludes with an extensive up-to-date bibliography which will be an important starting point for any researcher working on the Transmanche region in the second millennium bc.
Themes embrace diverse aspects of a ‘long view’ of the Transmanche region; the circumstances of the discovery of the boat, and then its con-servation and dating, and the insights gained through the reconstruct-ion of the half-scale replica; an overview of the range of craft skills and technology in evidence in the material exhibited; importantly consideration of trade and exchange which underpinned contact across the region; and the character of society ranging widely through subsistence, housing, personal dress and adornment, ritual and funerary practice.
The narratives reflect both the biases of evidence in the contributing regions on account of the nature of the local records, including variable circumstances bearing on their survival and recovery; and also the different conventions of terminology, methodology and interpretation within which archaeologists from discrete traditions operate. One of the benefits of trans-frontier projects such as this is that archaeologists from around the Transmanche area are encouraged to develop a dialogue based on shared parameters which will positively further understanding of the nature and implications of connections within the region in the second millennium bc.
A key element of the dialectic for this epoch is whether the south-east of England is within the core of a Transmanche community or has only peripheral and selective engagement with others within the region (resonances will be apparent of a debate which continues into contempo-rary twenty-first century ad affairs). The existence of such a community is certainly rehearsed in a few paragraphs within two short contributions in Chapter 1, jointly by Jean Bourgeois and Marc Talon, and also Cyril Marcigny. Chapter 1, taking the ‘long view’, is an eclectic mix of topics which would have benefited from greater direction and articulation in order to provide an introduction to the argument which underpins the exhibition, in greater depth and with more coherence, of geographically extensive shared communality. The argument ultimately comes down to debatable perceptions of homogeneity according to the relative weighting given to differences or similarities within the record. But the exhibition coincides with conferences at which this discussion will undoubtedly be more fully articulated, with published proceedings which will complement the catalogue.
anthony ward
Roman Archaeology for Historians. By Ray Laurence. xiv + 192 pp. 40 b/w illustrations and plans, bibliography and index. Routledge, London and New York. Approaching the Ancient World Series, 2012. Paperback, £21.99. ISBN 978-0-415-50592-5.
The author is Professor of Roman History and Archaeology at the University of Kent at Canterbury and has published widely on these subjects. He calls for closer collaboration between historians relying mainly on ancient texts and archaeologists who sometimes lack a wider view, a defect being remedied by the rising influence of theoretical archaeology. His book surveys the changing attitudes to problems of Roman history and archaeology during the last 150 years emphasising that authors’ views were a reflection of their times; early twentieth-century Roman historians such as Haverfield, tended to interpret the Roman Empire in the light of Britain’s imperial experience. In the twenty-first century greater emphasis is laid on theory and on regional studies. In the main body of his book he illustrates his theme from a wide range of sources. The contribution of archaeology to the study of topography is shown from excavations in the Roman Forum compared with other fora in the Empire. The relations between Rome and its hinterland is then analysed in the light of excavations and field surveys, and compared with similar work at Pompeii.
Turning to the provinces, the degree and nature of Romanisation is considered in some detail with the interpretations of Francis Haverfield, Moses Finlay and M.M. Millett compared. The next chapter focuses on the Roman town, discussing how far Mediterranean towns provided models for urbanisation in the provinces of the Empire; Laurence is particularly illuminating on the place of élites and of the use of space in provincial towns. Vindolanda is used as an example of changing views on the relations between soldiers and civilians and the contribution of the Roman army to Romanisation.
Evidence from cemeteries is then surveyed with Ostia as an example and what can be learned about migration from DNA evidence. Differences in meat consumption throughout the Empire is an interesting aspect of the chapter on ‘Plants, Animal and Diet’. Museums as aids to understanding are then discussed; objects are not put in context and labels reflect the interpretations current at the time they were written. In this chapter Canterbury Roman Museum is used as an example.
The final chapter considers the wider role of archaeology in society in the second decade of the 21st century. Films and TV programmes have stimulated public interest in archaeology but financial cuts have hit museums, English Heritage and other bodies. Laurence deplores the state into which Pompeii has been allowed to fall. Nearer home public protest stopped the closure of the Canterbury Roman Museum but Laurence does not mention community archaeology as an indication of its popular appeal. He rightly emphasises the importance of interesting children in our discipline, a field in which the KAS and the CAT are trailblazers.
The plans and the photographs are clear in spite of the small format of the book, whilst the bibliography is extensive. In spite of its many useful insights this is a book mainly for students rather the general public who may find Laurence’s love of abstract nouns off-putting.
lawrence lyle
Buckland Anglo-Saxon cemetery, Dover: excavations 1994. By Keith Parfitt and Trevor Anderson. 606 pp. 54 b/w, 13 colour photographs and b/w line drawings. Canterbury Archaeological Trust, 2012. Hardback, £35 (£30 FCAT). ISBN 9781870545235.
It is eighteen years since the excavations reported in this volume. The delay is of course regrettable, but one is tempted to say it has been worth the wait. This is a report of extremely high standard, drawing on the expertise of numerous researchers and incorporating multiple detailed and very impressive analyses of the excavated material.
The quantity of evidence is notable. Parfitt estimates that the cemetery may have contained over 500 graves, of which 415 have now been excavated, either in the 1994 excavations, or in the preceding work at the site published by Evison in 1987 (Evison, V., 1987, Dover: the Buckland Anglo-Saxon cemetery). The Buckland cemetery thus adds very substantially to other Anglo-Saxon cemetery material in Kent and, more importantly, is one of the few Kentish cemeteries to have been published to modern standards of reporting and analysis. This makes it a major source of evidence and this report will be an invaluable resource for further study.
Quantity of material is matched by some unusual and very interesting individual finds, many of which attest to the strong Continental links well-established for Kentish cemeteries. Some of the material was completely new to the reader, for instance a ‘fauchard’ (agricultural tool thought to have been used for cutting crops) in one grave, and a ‘fiche à belière’ (implement perhaps related to food serving) in another, both items much more readily found in Frankish cemeteries. Another outstanding find was a rock-crystal intaglio depicting Omphale, dating to the first century bc to first century ad, which had been mounted in a setting of the kind commonly used for crystal balls and probably suspended from a long necklace. As is common in Anglo-Saxon cemeteries, there is a scattering of other Roman material among the graves, including some Roman coins re-used as balance weights and found with a complete balance.
The chapter on costume and textiles, by Walton Rogers, is particularly informative, drawing on evidence from the position of dress accessories, and from mineralised textile fragments found in areas associated with the metal finds, to reconstruct a range of typical dress styles at the cemetery. Some are concurrent, while others develop from one another, for instance the tubular dress style associated with the earlier period is gradually supplanted and falls out of fashion. In conjunction with the bone evidence, it has been possible to show that older women were more likely to retain former fashions, perhaps adding a few more up-to-date items to create a mixed costume with elements of old and new. The discussion is fully supported by a table setting out the evidence for each grave, with a suggested interpretation of the costume worn by the occupant.
The burial community was investigated in detail by Trevor Anderson, who sadly died before the report could be published. Although bone preservation is poor, he was able to study aspects such as nutrition, trauma, stature, etc. Two adult males with weapon injuries were identified (although neither was actually buried with weapons), this evidence adding to the small number of cases of this kind known from other sites.
Presentation is of a similarly high standard to the content of the text. Only one typographical error was noticed, and there are good illustrations and photographs of the material assemblage (including colour photographs of the beads), and clear presentation of tables and graphs to support the main text. Following a very useful convention noted in Anglo-Saxon cemetery reports elsewhere, the grave catalogue uses bold type to pick out the types of artefacts found in each grave, enabling the reader in search of particular objects to scan the text with maximum efficiency. The figures that show the types of objects associated with particular phases of the cemetery (common in Continental publications and also used by Evison in the previous Buckland report) are also very useful. It is helpful, too, that the volume includes a reassessment of the earlier Buckland Dover cemetery with, for instance, slightly revised chronological phasing, mainly based on correspondence analysis of grave goods from the two areas of the cemetery.
Making an overall comparison of the report with the previous Buck-land cemetery publication, one can see clearly the changing trends in interpretation evident more widely in both Anglo-Saxon archaeology and that of other periods in British archaeology. Evison uses the various cultural affiliations of the grave goods to suggest the varied immigrant origins of the settlers, but 25 years later, and with an equally mixed bag of cultural influences evident in the new grave finds, the emphasis is on ‘inter-regional exchange’ rather than migration. Given the now long-standing debates over the interpretation of grave-goods, it is a pity that isotope studies (which can be used to identify the likely childhood place of residence of individuals from the analysis of their teeth) do not form a part of this report as, while not without problems, they might shed some interesting light on the question of the origin of members of the burial community, and could be fruitfully compared with the cultural indicators present among the grave goods.
ellen swift
The Discovery and Excavation of the Roman Shore-Fort at Dover, Kent. By Brian Philp. Kent Monograph Series, vol. 11. 166 pp. 81 figures, 43 colour plates. The Kent Archaeological Rescue Unit, 2012. £24 from The Roman Painted House, New St, Dover, CT17 9AJ. ISBN 0947831266.
More than thirty years after the publication of the monograph on the Classis Britannica Fort, this current volume in the series is certainly long awaited. It finally completes the publication of this significant area of Roman Dover, following previous publications of The Classis Britannica Fort (Monograph No. 3, 1981) and The Roman Painted House (Monograph No. 5, 1989).
Following an introductory chapter which provides the background to these excavations, chapter 2 briefly considers the written record of Roman Dover and previous discoveries of Roman date in the town; these suggested the presence of extensive Roman remains. The fifth-century Notitia Dignitatum lists a Saxon shore fort at Dubris, but because no remains had been found its existence was doubted. This made the fort’s discovery in the 1970s, during Brian Philp’s extensive excavations, particularly noteworthy.
As usual with KARU monographs the archaeological evidence is presented in great detail. Chapters 3 and 4 which occupy nearly 100 pages discuss the archaeology of the fort itself and represent the core of this report. Chapter 3 presents the evidence for the outer defences. These included a 2.50m thick curtain wall with an internal rampart of between 8 and 10m. The wall forms a trapezoidal enclosure of about 4 acres. The curtain wall was surrounded by a berm and a huge V-shaped ditch 8m wide and 4m deep. Several external D-shaped bastions were also excavated. One group was found to be integral to the walls, while some were clearly added after the wall had been completed. The quality of the archaeological plans is as usual good, although some lack a scale bar (Figs 8, 17, 19, 26, 28).
Chapter 4 is particularly exciting as it is mainly devoted to the extensive bath complex. The baths were large and would have been one of the most impressive structures in Dubris. The entire complex measures about 35 x 25m and three distinct phases were recognised. The baths began life c.ad 155 just outside the walls of the Classis Britannica fortress and consisted of a range of rooms along the northern side of a large walled enclosure. These rooms comprise the usual ones associated with a Roman bath suite and together with some unheated rooms occupy about half the area of the walled enclosure. Many of these were substantially rebuilt and remodelled c.190-200, a period which saw other building in the area such as the construction of the mansio (Roman painted house) and may hint at a wider building programme to coincide with Dover finally succeeding Richborough as the main port of entry into Britannia. When the Saxon shore fort was built (c.250-60) following the demolition of the Classis Britannica fortress, the bath house was included in its perimeter. The main change associated with this third reconstruction involved a substantial reduction in the size of the courtyard to allow for the construction of the internal rampart; this probably reduced the size of the baths to about half their previous extent. But the bath complex remained in use throughout the life of the Saxon Shore fort.
Apart from the bath house the only other internal structures are the rooms associated with the earlier Roman Painted House and a group of very interesting native style huts or animal pens. The rooms of the ‘mansio’ on the Roman Painted House site are discussed here again with particular attention focused on how they relate to the Saxon Shore Fort and it is noteworthy that the ‘mansio’ was partially buried beneath the internal rampart but several rooms remained in use after the fort was constructed. Also discussed is an enigmatic group of post-built animal pens or huts. There appear to be 11 in all of varying sizes from the smallest at about 4 x 4m, to the largest which was 10.75 x 7.50m. All have entrances facing east and in some, evidence for hearths or small ovens was found. However, no evidence for posts large enough to support a roof was found nor any evidence for clay daub. So these structures remain something of a mystery. They were constructed at about the time of the fort’s construction and as some of the structures overlap one another two phases must be represented.
In Chapter 5 the finds from the excavations are analysed and there are good discussions of the coin assemblage and the intaglios by Richard Reece and Martin Henig respectively. The evidence from the coin finds associated with the Saxon Shore fort largely fits with the stratigraphy. There is an above average accumulation in the period 260-295, the assemblage is then a little below average up to 330, from which point on there is a marked decline. A particularly interesting altar is discussed, although not for the first time, which would appear to have been dedicated to the Mother Goddesses of Italy by a transport officer named Candidus in the second century ad. This altar was reused as in the foundation of the Saxon Shore fort. Most of the large finds have been published previously, but there is re-appraisal of the enigmatic five letter inscription ‘VSI... ST’, which attempts to connect it with Hadrian and the Classis Britannica.
The entire programme of excavation is brought into context in Chapter 7, all the elements of the Saxon Shore Fort are discussed and there is a good analysis of the dating evidence. It would appear that Dover’s fort belongs to the period 250-260, but was still being modified by the construction of additional bastions c.300. This would mean that Dover’s fort was begun perhaps 20 years before the fort at Richborough which is briefly reappraised in Appendix A, entitled ‘Richborough Reconsidered’, and presents an overview of all the evidence from Richborough providing another opportunity to challenge the theory that the main Roman invasion landed at Hampshire in ad 43. The most poignant part of this chapter is Appendix B, in which Philp recounts, from his perspective, the rather sad political background which lay behind these excavations. The result of the machinations described here is that very little can now be seen of Dover’s Roman past. The excavated remains of the Classis Britannica Fort lie mouldering in the basement of what was the White Cliffs Experience and are not open to the public. The impressive bath-house described in this monograph has been reinterred beneath a small field. A small section of the Saxon Shore is visible at the, now rather elderly, Roman Painted House site, but which thankfully still offers visitors a glimpse of Dover’s Roman heritage.
colin andrews
Tides and Floods, new research on London and the Tidal Thames from the middle ages to the twentieth century. James A. Galloway (ed.), Centre for Metropolitan History, Working Papers Series, no. 4. 84 pp. 2010. Paperback, £5.00. ISBN 1905165595.
The River Thames was a key factor in the economy of the southern region of Britain, and in particular the growth of the great city of London. However until recently the natural dynamics of the great body of flowing water, which fed and sustained the population that settled within the limits of its basin, embodied a fine balance between opportunity and disaster.
The five essays in this compilation deal with a wide subject matter and geographical area, taking in a range of disciplines and methodologies from archaeology to historical geography. All the sections are linked by a common theme. Their subject matter concerns the landscape within the tidal reach of the River Thames. Three of the pieces treat the Thames ‘as a hazard as well as a resource’ and others explore the growth of social and political institutions responding to the effects of Thames flooding.
In the first article, historical woodworking expert Damian Goodburn and Simon Davis of Museum of London Archaeology provide summaries of archaeological excavations on the Thames foreshore at Ebbsfleet and Greenwich, of two tide mills which depended on the rise and fall of the river as a source of power. The description of the structure and construction methods of each of the mills, which have been dated to the seventh and twelfth centuries respectively, illustrated with black and white pictures, is framed in a discussion of the evidence they provide for the tidal range of the medieval Thames. In a section at the end of their article the tidal range is discussed in greater detail where the authors conclude that it was greater than had previously been assumed. Historical evidence is presented to show that the river’s ebb and flow was not entirely predictable and that other contemporary mills had been destroyed by unusually high tides in the river. The summary draws attention to the need for a systematic survey of the waterfronts of the Thames and its tributaries which is highlighted by these two riverside sites.
In the second piece Galloway presents a survey of the landscape of the Thames marshes at the end of the middle ages. Documents associated with the surrender of monastic houses in the 1520s show that agricultural land had been reclaimed from the Thames marshes along the north Kent coast and was in the possession of thirty minor religious houses whose land was sold to support new colleges built in Oxford and Ipswich. The surveys reveal that land which had been in use for a long time as arable and pasture was by the 1520s subject to frequent inundation as the river walls that protected them were breached, destroying much of their value. The causes are examined and tentatively identified as an increase in the number of storm surges entering the Thames from the North Sea and also vandalism and the neglect of maintenance. The significant effect of the encroachment of the river was not only the loss of navigability and of the utility of the land, but more unexpectedly the proliferation of unregulated fishing, particularly of immature fish, which had a significant effect on fish stocks closer to London. The conclusion points out that land reclamation was reversible and was in large measure dependant on the sustained commitment of resources, which varied according to the prevailing economic and social conditions.
The third essay, by Carry Van Lieshout, examines floods and responses to flooding in eighteenth-century London, when the city was expanding rapidly. The causes of flooding, natural tidal effects as well as storm surges from the North Sea are discussed. Infrastructure failings such as blocked drains and cellar floods which proliferated in the city are also acknowledged as sources of flooding. Evidence for the chronology of flooding over the eighteenth century is given in a series of tables. Later, consideration is given to the experience and consequences of flooding in the city which are illustrated through statistical and narrative evidence. The final discussion deals with the institutional response to flooding, principally in the operation of the Commissioners of Sewers, a body founded in the thirteenth century which remained responsible for the Thames despite generally poor management of flood prevention. Summarising, Van Lieshout concludes that damage and disruption due to flooding, in its lesser and greater forms, was a continuous hazard embedded in London’s urban consciousness until the construction of the Thames barrier in 1982.
The very complex link between catastrophic storm surge flooding in London and the technical and scientific understanding of the processes that developed in London in the 1930s are examined by Anne Carlsson-Hyslop in the fourth essay. She demonstrates through close examination of the contested process, how research into flooding grew into an issue for national government, rather than the narrow province of the urban authorities of London.
In the last essay, Gustav Milne describes the foundation and structure of the Thames Discovery Programme and their role in training a team of Londoners to survey and monitor twenty significant sites on the Thames foreshore. The results of the work of the Thames Archaeological Survey are discussed, highlighting their demonstration that many stratified sites lie on the foreshore of the Thames, subject to the daily scour of the river. It was in response to this conclusion that the Thames discovery programme was set up to monitor and explore the sites under threat. Two examples of their work on the remains of naval warships are given, illustrating the research agenda that arises from the remains of the ships, and by implication the riverside communities of shipwrights and sailors they represent. A final section narrates the previously untold story of German attempts in the Second World War to bomb and destroy the river wall, which protected London from flooding. Recording on the repaired bomb damage to the wall has been carried out by the Thames Discovery programme and on the historical records of the forward planning by the government that prevented a disaster during the Blitz.
The collection of essays is justified in the preface by the desire of the editor to see one day a single and complete narrative of the history and environment of the Thames. While these five essays stand alone as useful thematic discussions, they point the direction for the subjects that would form the body of a full history of the tidal Thames.
ges moody
From Gavelkinders to Gentlemen: a History of the Lushington Family in East Kent from 1200-1700. By Sir John Lushington Bt. 335 pp. Copious b/w illustrations, photographs, maps and tables, 8 colour illustrations and maps. Published by the author, 2012. Paperback, £48 available from the author (jrclushington@yahoo.co.uk). ISBN 9780957352803.
This wittily titled and attractively produced book is so much more than a simple family history covering the various branches of the Lushington family. Chapter subheadings hint at some of the other areas covered: gavelkind, living conditions (in the Hall House), Socianism, Sittingbourne and the Plague and, intriguingly, the Foot Races (two races held annually in Sittingbourne on 29th May between two young men and between ‘two young maids’ in the late seventeenth century for a prize of £15). Further reading reveals explanations of medieval land divisions in Kent and of enfeoffment, the influence of the turn-wrest plough on field size in Kent, sheep farming in the Alkham valley, information on years of good and poor harvests, epidemics, the beacons of Kent as well as the role of women in Tudor families. All of this fascinating information is interwoven with the gradual rise in status and prosperity of the Lushington families and their farms and businesses in the parishes of Hawkinge, Alkham, Capel le Ferne, Cheriton, Barham and in Thanet and Sittingbourne.
The sheer numbers of illustrations, maps, genealogical tables and photographs of buildings and of manuscript documents all testify to the dedication of the author in uncovering his family’s history over many years. He has devised a code of letters and numbers printed in red to identify and link the names of family members to the family trees and has also included an index showing those connected to the Lushingtons through marriage, land transactions and court cases. To assist our understanding of the places mentioned he has reproduced the relevant extracts from tithe maps and from Symondson’s 1659 map of Kent and from Hasted’s maps (among others), together with early plans showing the layout of specific farms and of Lushington premises in Sittingbourne. In addition, Ordnance Survey maps both new and old pinpoint places associated with the family and old photographs backed up with recently taken views add further interest. However the bones of the history are derived from archival documents, extracts from which are inserted both in the form of photographs of the manuscripts and as text within the book as well as footnoted. Lay subsidies, wills and inventories, parish registers, all forms of legal document concerning buying and leasing property, even evidence from Court Leets, Chancery cases and presentments are mined for the slightest bearing on the early history of the family and their environs. As an illustration, a series of extracts from churchwardens’ presentments during Queen Elizabeth’s reign for the parishes of Alkham and Capel (both parishes where the Lushington family were resident) shed light on the vicar at the time, John Cadman. Being non-resident in the parishes he frequently failed to perform his clerical duties and on occasions when he did officiate it was not always an untempered blessing. For instance in 1593 he left off in the midst of administering communion in order to argue over a spare bottle of wine with his churchwarden and, having lost the argument, tore off his surplice and ‘went his way without giving thanks’.
The dates 1200 to 1700 in the title are intriguing. The earlier date refers to the author’s search for the origins of his family name in terms of a place name in Wallenberg, Domesday Book, Anglo-Saxon and Middle English dictionaries, Pipe Rolls, Assize Records and Lay Subsidy Rolls. But why does this meticulously researched history end in the year 1700 and not bring the record up to date? The answer is only revealed towards the close of Chapter Eight when it is disclosed that a second volume is in the process of being researched, which will cover the Lushington family in the 18th century. The final three chapters which follow describe other branches of the Lushington family in Alkham, Capel le Ferne, Barham and Elmsted.
There is much to savour in From Gavelkinders to Gentlemen for historians of Kent and especially for those with a keen interest and knowledge of east Kent. The transcriptions and translations made of archival documents (in particular of the inventories) are a fascinating resource for researchers. For the social historian there is also a wealth of information; where else could you find a description of how the washing was done in Tudor Kent? The number and diversity of illustrations adds to the overall enjoyment of this deeply researched book. This is a family history that has been properly contextualised in terms of national and local events and this more than compensates for some of the manuscript reproductions that seem too small to be easily legible. It is a rare book that has been ‘work in progress’ since the author’s schooldays and it is a great achievement for him to have finally published this history. We now keenly await volume two!
susan petrie
Chatham Dockyard. The Rise and Fall of a Military Industrial Complex. By Philip MacDougall. 192 pp. b/w illustrations and maps. The History Press, 2012. Hardback £18.99. ISBN 9 780752 462127.
Philip MacDougall probably knows more about the history of Chatham dockyard than any other historian. His new book, in his words, is ‘a completely new history’ based on new research in primary sources. The focus is on the later years from the eighteenth century through to closure in 1984 and the years following. The sub-title of the book conveys the significance of the royal dockyard at Chatham: a state-owned military industrial complex, one of the world’s largest naval dockyards, building and repairing ships and also a major part of Kent’s industrial history.
In the late sixteenth century, which is dealt with in the first chapter, the dockyard on the eastern side of the Medway, employed over 100 workmen on the royal fleet. The yard was extended with mast pond and dry dock (built in 1581) with new buildings in 1616-19 to provide a sail mast, ropery and accommodation. By 1660 the labour force had risen to 800 men. Yet further extension took place in the 1680s-90s to provide increased capacity with four dry docks and new storehouses. Through the next two centuries Chatham dockyard, rivalling Portsmouth, was a major centre for building warships, wooden walls in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, and then ironclads and thereafter steel hulled ships. This account of the early years is well written and includes a chapter on the role of Blaise Ollivier, master shipwright at Brest, who in 1739, seemingly with a measure of official approval, was shown around the dockyard where he took careful notes as a ‘spy’ for the French.
By 1800 the dockyard had a labour force numbering two thousand. Improvements in management of such a large and important complex had occurred despite the entrenched indifference and bureaucratic weakness of the Navy Board. By then the labour force consisted of shipwrights, caulkers, sail makers, wheelwrights, plumbers, block makers, braziers, riggers, spinners in the ropeyard, and sawyers along with other skilled workers; one fifth of those employed were unskilled. Inevitably men with skills and labour value struck for higher wages and better conditions. Labour disputes are mentioned frequently, and so are labour unions in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but unfortunately the reader is told little of how unions were organised in a government-run establishment where measures to increase security and secrecy grew tighter over the years. That said, the chapters on the management of the yard – ‘the view from the Commissioner’s house’, the ‘shipwrights, scavelmen and labourers’, ‘building the ships that fought at Trafalgar’, and the ‘shipbuilding revolution’ and expansion of the nineteenth century – are splendid.
The final three chapters covering the twentieth century provide a useful outline of the fortunes and eventual misfortune of the dockyard, but fewer primary sources are used giving the impression that MacDougall is reluctant to engage with them. This reviewer thought an opportunity was missed to discuss the greatly expanded labour force during the Great War, which reached 11,000 by the Armistice, the official policies adopted to run a major dockyard in two world wars, and the various specialist ships built at Chatham, for example submarines. Some of the references in the text are, oddly, not included in the bibliography. The overall impression is that this is the best history of the dockyard available but that with more attention to the last one hundred years an even better book would have been the result.
A final point may be worth making: this study is ‘local history’ but the ships built and repaired by the men and women at Chatham had a national and global purpose. The materials brought to the Medway, timber, coal, iron, steel, and canvas, were used to produce ships that had a global role in guarding world trade routes, warding off enemies, and securing an overseas empire. It is vital that local historians look beyond the ‘tyranny of the discrete’ and do not forget that micro studies often have a wider significance in the history of the past.
david killingray
William Cuffay. The life and times of a Chartist leader. By Martin Hoyles. 283 pp. Numerous b/w illustrations. Hansib, Hertford, 2012. £9.99. ISBN 9781906190620.
William Cuffay (1788-1870) was born in Chatham, the son of a black former slave who had served in the Royal Navy and settled in the Medway town. He became a tailor, migrated to London, where he was involved in the tailors’ strike of 1834 which appears to have radicalised him. Cuffay helped form the Metropolitan Tailors’ Chartist Association and by the mid 1840s he had emerged as one of the leaders of London Chartism. As a forceful speaker at the great Kennington Common demonstration in April 1848, Cuffay was noted for his militancy. A few months later he was arrested, charged with levying war against the Queen, convicted, largely on the evidence of police spies, and transported to Tasmania. His wife later joined him in Hobart. As a ticket of leave man in the antipodes Cuffay was free to continue his radical politics, which he did with great vigour until his final years. He was given a free pardon in 1856.
Cuffay, the black Chartist, a small man physically handicapped, was widely noted in the contemporary press and by fellow Chartists in their memoirs. Brief entries on him have appeared in the Dictionary of Labour Biography, the New Dictionary of National Biography, and in an article in the American journal Phylon (1985) which appears to have been overlooked or ignored by Martin Hoyles in this the first full-length biography of Cuffay. Relatively little is known of the first 45 years of Cuffay’s life, and the first half of Hoyles’ book (7 of 13 chapters) is more on the ‘times’ than the ‘life’ of his subject. There are frequent diversions on hulks at Chatham, straw plaiting, the Adelphi Theatre in the Strand, and Dickens. William Blake is also included with frequent use of the tenuous ‘may have’ and ‘could have been’. Only with the second half of the study does Cuffay begin to hold prime place. This reflects the more readily available primary sources, although it is not always clear which sources have been used. For example, were the Home Office and Treasury papers in the TNA at Kew used? And could not the very many references to Cuffay in the press in the late 1840s and early 1850s have been read more closely and used with more effect?
Cuffay is an engaging character, a ready smile on his lips at the age of 60 even as he was sentenced. He was a witty and fluent public speaker, with a repartee that would not have disgraced a theatrical performer, and he had a strong singing voice. All of this comes across in Hoyles’ book, but there is a great deal more about Cuffay that the reader might have been told – on his beliefs and attitudes to religion and republicanism, his relationships with O’Connor, Harney and Frost, and his responses to the middle classes and the various rival reform bodies of the time. This reader finished the book thankful for the biography, but with a sense of disappointment at a task that might have been better performed.
david killingray
Sevenoaks, An Historical Dictionary. David Killingray and Elizabeth Purves (eds). 256 pp. 18 maps and b/w and coloured illustrations through-out. Phillimore, 2012. Paperback, £14.99. ISBN 978-1-86077-736-3.
This volume, supported by the Allen Grove Fund and Kent History Fund, is a refreshing and challenging contribution to the current range of local histories in Kent. It breaks with the most commonly accepted chronological narratives and does not allow for thematic topics, although each small entry is a topic in itself. The structure of a dictionary provides a wealth of opportunity for a mix of interests, but it does have its limitations as well. For those already having a good knowledge of the history of Sevenoaks this volume will provide a very accessible source for a wide range of topics, locations and people. For those wanting to learn about the town, open any page, or look up any letter, and a wealth of surprising and well-researched data is immediately available. For the more serious researcher, the index is invaluable as it not only guides the reader to the relevant contribution but also to the cross-references which, together with the source references given in each contribution, are one of the major strengths of this volume.
The book is beautifully illustrated with a strong mix of modern paintings and photographs, archive photographs, postcards, drawings and paintings, and a very useful selection of maps, both general location and focused detail, without which any local history would be the poorer. The editing is meticulous and both the editors and the contributors have ensured that there is a coherent style to the volume, which again is invaluable in any ‘dictionary’ collection.
It is not necessary for the reviewer to explain the structure of an alpha-betical dictionary, but there is of course an element of subjectivity in making an alphabetical enquiry, so it took some time when looking for the topographical setting of Sevenoaks to alight on ‘geology’ in the index after having failed with ‘topography’ and ‘landscape’. Nevertheless these topics do occur incidentally in many of the contributions and maps, gradually building a fuller picture. Serendipity plays a major part on almost every page. As the readers searches for, say, the entry on the Butter Market, the eye is drawn to other items: on Cade’s Rebellion; the BT building; and bus services. Or look up the ‘police’ and you find a fascinating item on ponds, together with pew rents and nineteenth- and twentieth-century photographers. The Swing Riots appear alongside the telegraph, telephone, temperance and tennis.
Essentially this is a local history of Sevenoaks of the early modern, and most particularly, the modern period, with the earlier history emerging from time to time in individual entries. A short introductory section would have helped to set Sevenoaks within its earliest place in Kentish history, giving a stronger framework for the individual entries, and guiding the reader on the best ways to use the book. It is perhaps fortunate that the Dictionary begins with ‘Agriculture’ which does set the scene to a certain extent. This is a book which will be read, and re-read, as both a local history to browse and a useful reference book.
elizabeth edwards
The Little Book of Kent. By Alexander Tulloch. 90 pp. 43 b/w drawings. The History Press, 2012. Hardback, £9.99. ISBN 978 07524 5814 2.
This delightful little book is filled with interesting facts about our county. There are ten chapters plus an extensive Introduction. Did you know that we have more castles than any other English County or that Sir Malcolm Sargent was born in our Ashford, the son of a coal merchant? (But no Mark Rylance.) Sir Michael Jagger, the son of a PE Teacher attended LSE but gave it up for more remunerative pursuits. Tracey Karima Emin is the daughter of a Turkish Cypriot father.
In the Chapter on ‘Lawless Kent’, is an account of how in 1647 the people of Canterbury rioted after the Mayor announced that the Puritan Government had banned Christmas so, for example, no plum pudding or festive pies were to made, Cromwell having said that anything as delicious as mince pies had to be the work of the devil. The number 007 is said to have been assigned to James Bond by Ian Fleming of St Margaret’s Bay, being the number of the bus route from Canterbury to Dover. Chapter 9 on trains provides facts on the Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway, such as its considerable role in World War II and that the locomotive ‘Black Prince’ was originally Fliesiges Lieschen (Busy Lizzie). ‘Challenge of the Channel’ tells us that in 1926 the American, Gertrude Ederle, was the first woman to swim from France to Kingsdown. Her time of 14 hrs 39 minutes was the fastest for men and women until Alison Streeter in 1988 accomplished the same swim in 8hrs 48 minutes.
There is an extensive bibliography. Some of the illustrations such as that of William Harvey have not reproduced well, unlike those say of Churchill and Napoleon. Blue Circle was the trade title of a cement manufacturer not a construction company. Despite these minor matters, this well produced book constitutes fascinating reading for an expatriate or, as most of us are, a curious Kentish person.
peter draper
Addington: The Life Story of a Kentish Village. By Patricia Richardson. vii + 224 pp. 19 colour, 123 b/w illustrations and figures, 16 maps and plans. 2012. Paperback, £14, from the author (St Vincent, St Vincent’s Lane, Addington, West Malling, Kent, ME39 5BW). ISBN 978-0-9574465-0-2.
Patricia Richardson has produced a very thorough and well-researched study of Addington from its pre-history to the present day. Throughout there is close attention to detail and for each period the author has immersed herself in the nature of the village, fully supporting the title of the book as ‘The Life Story’ of Addington. This attention to detail provides clarity for the short introductory chapter on the pre-history and early settlements, and in the analysis of the politics of local government and the establishment of the Parish Council in 1953. However, it is a little overwhelming as the narrative of the owners of the manor come thick and fast during the account of the later medieval period.
The chapters on the more modern periods, in particular, are subdivided thematically and provide very useful insights into life in Addington and its environs with the importance of the local sandpit industry, the growth of the village, the decline in agriculture and the impact of the motorways in the mid twentieth century. The book is well-illustrated throughout, although the quality of some reproductions could be better, and a professional, larger scale, clear map of Addington would have been a great help to the reader.
This is a book that has been produced with enormous enthusiasm and love of the village and will be enjoyed by both those who know Addington well, and those looking for a greater understanding of this area of mid-Kent.
Tunbridge Wells in 1909. The year we became ‘ROYAL’. Events and attitudes in the town 100 years ago. By Chris Jones. 210 pp. Numerous b/w illustrations. Tunbridge Wells: Tunbridge Wells Civic Society Local History Group monograph no. 9, 2008. £8.95. ISBN 9780956094407.
This well-illustrated book is based on a good idea: take a significant year, 1909 in the case of Tunbridge Wells when it received the prefix ‘Royal’, and look in some depth at what was happening in the town during that twelve-month period. The selection is drawn from the local press and various primary sources, the ‘events and attitudes’ presented month by month by themes (e.g. the Ratepayers’ League, Boy Scouts, winter, postmen and policemen, Empire Day, emigration, local omnibuses, the treatment of animals, beggars, and the workhouse), while the latter part of the book focuses on the four Wards of the town. There is little of note about the ‘Royal’ prefix, but a good deal of fascinating material to confound the often starchy stereotypical image of the town. The book is a pleasure to read and also to dip into.
Medway and Swale Shipping through Time. By Geoff Lunn. 96 pp. c.180 illustrations, mainly colour. Amberley Publishing, 2012. Paperback £14.99. ISBN 978-1-4456-0625-5.
Tunbridge Wells through Time. By Robert Turcan. 96 pp. c.180 illustrations. Amberley Publishing, 2012. Paperback £14.99. ISBN 978-1-4456-0821-1.
Two very different studies of local photographs and other illustrations highlighting the essence of the chosen local areas over the past 150 years or so. The Medway book is helpfully arranged in geographical chapters and tells a fascinating story of the changing nature and role of all manner of vessels built and used on the Medway and Swale. The pictures are evocative with helpful expanded captions. This is a book which can be dipped into or read straight through giving an excellent and clear account. The only small quibble would be the omission of a photograph of the new Kingsferry bridge (p. 87).
The overwhelming impression gained from the collected pictures of Tunbridge Wells, which interestingly carefully omits all mention of its origins as the Wells of Tonbridge/Tunbridge, is of how little the town has changed. Even the dominance of the motor car today is carefully screened in some of the recent pictures so that early twentieth-century traffic looks almost as heavy. On the whole the collection concentrates on the impressive institutional buildings, the historical centre, the grander residential areas and the rural periphery. In contrast to Tunbridge Wells in 1909 (see above), this preserves one very traditional view of Tunbridge Wells, but overlooks its present as a living town.