Category: war diary

  • Cutout Lech?

    Solidarność (Solidarity) was a trade union movement in Poland that played a crucial role in ending communist rule in the country. It was founded in 1980 and led by Lech Wałęsa.

    Regarding CIA involvement:

    1. There is evidence that the CIA provided covert support to Solidarity during the 1980s, particularly after martial law was imposed in Poland in 1981.
    2. This support primarily took the form of financial aid, communications equipment, and printing supplies to help Solidarity continue its activities underground.
    3. The CIA’s involvement was part of a broader U.S. policy to undermine Soviet influence in Eastern Europe.
    4. According to declassified documents and accounts from former CIA officers, the agency channeled millions of dollars to Solidarity through various fronts and third parties.
  • Childbirth

    Childbirth

    In the 21st Century childbirth is safe and uncomplicated in the majority of cases, medical care is good so that early problems are mostly overcome .If the mother cannot breast-feed good substitute dried milk is available.

    In the 18th Century parents could have no confidence that their children could be born safely and thrive.

    About a quarter of all marriages were childless, half of these through infertility, the others due to the early death of the children. Many lower class women were several months pregnant when they were married. This was partly due to the need to be sure of fertility before the marriage was undertaken.

    The risk of death in childbirth increases with the number of pregnancies especially after the fifth. This combines with the extra dangers faced by older mothers. In this time before the use of birth control many pregnancies were the norm. One woman Mrs. Hodgson of York died aged thirty eight in her twenty fourth labour. Even the highest in the land were not exempt. The Duchess of Chandos though marrying as late as the age of thirty had nine children in fourteen years and four miscarriages, seven of her children died in infancy. Many tried to space their confinements by delaying weaning the previous infant, by coitus interruptus, or by refusing their husband access to their bed. Condoms were on sale in London but were used as protection against venereal disease by men using whores as described by Boswell in his “London Life”. Childbirth itself was a dangerous process. Any complications could have a fatal outcome. Sepsis and puerperal fever took many lives.

    Even very poor women had some sort of birth attendant. This was partly due to a statute of 1647 which forbade the concealment of a birth. English midwives evidently had a good reputation as Mrs. Stanley a midwife in Savannah, Georgia who had delivered 128 babies decided to be delivered herself in England in 1737 rather than trust herself to the other midwives of Georgia. Labours were difficult and there were few painkillers. An obstructed delivery could led to the death of both mother and child since Caesarean sections were not successfully performed until the nineteenth century.

    The greatest man-midwife of the century was the Scot William Smellie (1697-1763), who came to London in 1739. His “Treatise on Midwifery” appeared in 1752 and gave a clear account of the mechanism of labour. He had attended 1150 cases himself. He laid down good rules for practice. He taught about 900 students. His most famous pupil was another Scot, William Hunter (1718-1783).who did much to improve midwifery.

    Women of substance would go from the country to the town for the birth to benefit from these more skilled doctors. Theresa Parker of Saltram in Devon wrote;

    “Mr. Parker begins to grow uneasy at my staying so long in the Country, but I am convinced I am safe if I am in Town by the 1st of October I am not desirous of going sooner than necessary, tho’ in reality I have no objection than that of leaving the little boy a week earlier.”

    In fact the child was born before she could leave the country. Fever followed and a few weeks later she was dead. After the birth the mother unless in poor circumstances spent several weeks in bed. During this time she received visits from friends and neighbours. This period ended with Churching a service of thanks for the safe delivery of the infant.

    Baptism took place within hours if the child was likely to die, otherwise usually days later.

    If the Mother did not have milk, or was of high social status, a wet nurse was employed, that is another mother who had recently given birth and was feeding her own child. The wet nurse usually came from a lower social class and did not usually live in the child’s house, only the richest parents could afford to keep the wet nurse in their home; so most often the infant was sent from his parents’ home to live in the wet nurse’s home for weeks or months until weaning was possible. The musician Stevens mentions arrowroot, a pure nutritious starch, as a very early food for his son, this foreshadows the fine starchy foods which are still the first solid items to be offered to infants on weaning.

    Wet nursing resulted in the child living in unhygienic conditions, and the possibility of being exposed to even more dangers to his health. Yet parents living in cities believed they were giving them a good start by sending them to live with a wet nurse in the country.

    Dr. Peter Oliver’s entry that his wife suffered from sore nipples reminds us that some breast feeding problems have existed from time immemorial and the mothers of our century will empathise with women of earlier times as this problem still troubles them and little has been suggested to alleviate it. The use of a wet nurse was not confined to cases of necessity. In the higher social classes it was an accepted procedure. The quality of the wet nurse varied from excellent in a few cases to tolerable in most and a hazard to the child’s life in others. William Hickey became very fond of his, but both doctors Claver Morris and Peter Oliver had very bad experiences.

    The period after the birth was referred to as the confinement until recently and it was literally so in earlier times. We see Mrs. Morris was kept in her bedroom and probably in bed for two weeks after her son’s birth. Another two weeks passed before she left the house to be churched. After this rite a woman would slowly resume normal life. Another 18th Century woman Mrs. Custance referred to in Nancy Woodford’s diary was in bed for months after one child birth due to complications.

    Thomas Marchant’s diary illustrates the vast number of children who died soon after birth even the one who survived to become a student died then of smallpox.

    DR. CLAVER MORRIS

    Dr. Morris lived from 1659-1726/7.

    In an age of very little medical training, of barbers as surgeons and quacks galore his qualifications were outstanding. He was an Oxford BA, MA, and MD. He was effectively a consultant to wealthy people who lived over a wide area within reach of Wells.

    He made up the medicines he prescribed in his own laboratory.

    His three marriages brought him wealth and land. He became a prominent citizen in Wells. In 1706 he was appointed a Commissioner for Land Tax, in 1709 he became a Commissioner for Sewers. He was also a District Commissioner for collecting the tax imposed on Catholics and a Burgess of Wells.

    His hobby was music and he belonged to a musical society which met weekly to perform contemporary music. Every year they performed Purcell’s Cecilia music on that saint’s day. By his second marriage he had a daughter. In 1709 his third wife gave birth to a son to his great joy. This son, though he survived his father, was never strong and died in his 30th year. Morris records that in 1712 he had to dismiss a nurse, Hester Harding, to whom he gave £1-5s,;

    “because put off for having the King’s Evil (i.e. scrofula) and infecting my little son with it whom she attended,”

    This entry shows that though their nature was quite unknown, the Infectivity of the so-called scrofulous lesions was recognised.

    The great lexicographer Samuel Johnson suffered the same bad start. This affected his health and appearance all his life. Morris’ diary records the event.

    17 October 1709

    “About 6 a clock my wife began to fall in labour.” 20 October 1709 “At 20 or 22 minutes after 6 in the morning exactly, my wife was very happily delivered of a son. I had many congratulations on that occasion: and in the evening Mr. Mills, Mr. Henry Gapper, & Mr. Henry Purchase were with me & we were merry but temperately so, & play’d >”Drink if you please.”

    The baby was well enough to avoid immediate baptism in the house. Ten days later Morris wrote: 27 October 1709

    “My son was at Evening Service Baptiz’d by the name William in the Cathedral at Wells.

    Colonel Berkeley & Colonel Prowse, for Major Brag, with Bishop Hooper’s lady and my sister Farewell for my sister Leigh were suretys [Obsolete word for sponsor] I had a great company both of men and women at mine house (especially men) & some of them staid with me till 4 a clock next morning & seem’d very well pleas’d with their entertainment. Colonel Berkeley (my house being full ) lodg’d with me in my Bed.”

    In the 18th Century it was not unusual for people of the same sex to share a bed. Difficulties of transport made overnight stays necessary and people of necessity tolerated sharing rooms and beds. William had a baptism appropriate to his father’s social status, one of the sponsor’s being the Bishop’s wife. Mrs. Morris followed the custom of spending two weeks after the birth in bed. This practice survived until the 20th Century among reasonably affluent people.

    2 November 1709

    “My Wife went out of ye Parlour Chamber & walked a little in the Hall-Chamber, being the 17th day after her Delivery.”

    17 November 1709

    “My Wife was Churched by Mr. Mills. She was carried in a Sedan & was clad in a Vail. No woman went with her but Mrs Rogers, the Midwife. Mr. Mills dined with us. My son Will went to Mrs. Poor to Nurse.” [one month old]

    29 November 1709

    “I visited Mrs. Poor & my Son.” Churching is the ceremony of going to church to give thanks, most notably after a safe childbirth.

    5 December 1709

    “My Son was very ill of the gripes. [Intermittent spasmodic pain of the bowel ] I went to him & order’d a Clyster [A medicine injected into the rectum] & some medicines for the Wind & he was much better.” Years later Dr. Morris refers to the weaning of his grandson.

    26 July 1725 >

    >
    “I lent my Calesh & Servant to carry Mr Burland, my Daughter, & Molley to Mr Newman’s at Cadbury, to stay some time while Jacky is weaning.” .

    Thomas Marchant’s bald recording of the facts of his childrens’ illnesses and deaths seems to indicate a lack of feeling. This was not the case. Religious teaching affected people very strongly and taught them to submit to the will of God, however hard. Diaries often expressed the need to accept the will of God which was seen to control these events. So it was customary not to express openly the grief and torment which most parents felt internally. By such fortitude one was working towards one’s own salvation. A similar acceptance of fate was expressed by Dr. Oliver when writing of the birth of his first child.

    Thomas Marchant

    A Sussex yeoman farmer 5 September 1715

    “Paid William Nicholas 1s.6d. for raising the graves of my four deceased children Ann b.1706, d.1706 Mary b.1707, d.1707 Thomas b. 1703 ,d.1707 James b.1710, d.1711

    10 September 1715

    “My wedding day. We have been married 15 years today”

    24 September1715

    “My wife brought to bed of a girl. May went to Cuckfield Mill with Mrs. Howard. I gave her 5s. and my wife gave her a guinea.”

    May would have been out to fetch the midwife.

    4 October1715

    “My daughter Ann christened. Mr Hart was godfather, Mrs. White and my sister Nanny godmothers. Mr. Sixsmith christened her here, at home, on account of the bad weather.”

    26 February 1728

    “Marrian set out for Oxford to bring J.Marchant home, on account of the smallpox , which is much there.”

    29 February 1728

    “Marrion returned from Oxford without John, who had caught, and was laid up with smallpox.”

    1 April 1728

    “A letter from Mr. Ratcliff, of Oxford, to inform us that John has come out with and is very full of the smallpox and that it is a very bad sort.”

    8 April 1728

    “Thos. Elvey and Marrian returned from Oxford, and brought us the sad news that John Marchant died on friday night last, about 11 o’clock.”

    John had been intending to take Holy Orders. Thomas Marchant presented the living of Rusper to Mr Marten

    “which he is to resign, should either of my sons take Orders, and I took a bond of him to this effect.”

    This was on 7 December 1721.

    #Dr. Thomas Wilson

    A typical Whig clergyman of his time, he was the son of the saintly bishop of Sodor and Man. His early life was taken up with seeking preferment and he eventually became rector of St. Stephens, Walbrook. He married his widowed cousin, a marriage which appears to have been happy except for the death at one year of their only child. During the 18th century midwives were slowly beginning to be superseded by men. The Reverend Dr. Thomas Wilson gives an early and rare example of both being present at a birth and the competition between them.

    Tuesday 18 March 1734-5

    “This morning about 6 my dear wife began to be in labour. I went immediately for Dr. Bamber to be present at the labour and he came at 8. At 14 minutes after eleven she was delivered by Mrs. Gates of Gower Street of a fine boy, with very little pain. God be praised for his mercies. The Dr. was afraid some of the skirts of the after burthen was left behind by the midwife’s being so very quick, and pulling it with the child away at the same time, which is very wrong practice.

    “In the afternoon I wrote to Mr.Thoresby to give me leave to baptise my child privately, afraid of any mischance, intending, God willing, to present him publickly in the Church. Baptised him by the name of Thomas.

    Wednesday 19th

    “My wife much better and the child in a fair way to do well.”

    Thursday 20th

    “Dr. Bamber came here and found all very well.”

    Friday 21st

    “I measured my boy and he was 27 inches long. My dear wife tried to suckle her little one but her nipples were so sore and so small that the child could not get hold of them and so I hope it will be pardoned for I know that it is every woman’s duty to nurse her own child.”

    Monday 24th

    “My dear wife taken with a disorder like the Stranguary” (a disease of the urinary organs, slow and painful emissions of urine.) “I am afraid she got cold by having her room washed this morning.”

    Tuesday 25th

    “My Molly made water freer but had a great forcing afterwards. I am afraid her midwife did her some injury. She drunk Emulsion.”

    Wednesday 26th

    “Still the same disorder, weak, restless, no stomack, drinks Emulsion. I cut my finger to the bone.”

    Thursday 27th

    “The same disorder, tho’ a little better.”

    Friday 28th

    “I would have sent for Dr. Bamber, but she did not care for it.”

    After a great forcing of water on Saturday he sent on Sunday for Dr. Bamber. He ordered her

    “A stoupe of warm spices and white wine twice a day and spermatic tea draught every six hours.”

    On the following Tuesday she was still feverish and he ordered 25 Gr. Of Gascoin’s powder and 25 Gr. of Crabbs Eyes every 6 hours. By 7th April she was improving. Dr Bamber came and ordered the Spermacetea draught and the Gascoin’s powder every 8 hours. But Dr. Wilson’s cut finger was very much inflamed. By Friday 20th April all was much better.

    “My dear boy was received in Newington church by Mr. Thoresby. Father Patten (his Wife’s father) stood himself. Mr. Hayward for my father and Aunt Jackson for Cousin Thomas Patten’s wife.”

    The priest Mr. Thoresby was the son of the diarist Ralph Thoresby.

    Mrs. Pendarves

    (later Mrs. Delany) Lived from 1700-1788 She was the niece of Lord Lansdowne. In 1718 her family forced her to marry an old man Alexander Pendarves. She was seventeen. Her husband died in 1724 leaving her with nothing but her jointure. She repelled suitors including Lord Baltimore.

    From 1731-1733 she visited Ireland with her friend Mrs. Donnellan. She met Dr. Delany and Dean Swift with whom she occasionally corresponded after returning to England. In 1743 Delany came to England expressly to ask her to be his wife. Her noble friends and her brother were indignant at this misalliance, but she resolved this time to have her way and was married on June 9. 1743. They lived happily until Delany’s death in 1768.

    She was introduced to the royal family, and George III called her his “dearest Mrs. Delany.” She became well known for her flower work,and for paper mosaic cut out of bits of coloured paper. It was praised by Darwin in his >”Love of the Plants”. Between 1774 when she began it and 1784, when her eyesight had failed she had finished nearly one thousand specimens some can be seen in the British Museum today..

    We get some idea of the preparations for a new baby from the letters of Mrs. Pendarves. No easy visit to Mothercare for ready made garments. Long nightdresses reaching well below the infants feet were cut out and sewn at home and the same long dresses were used in the day by both boys and girls. Such long nightdresses were still in use in the 1950s for the first 6 months. The change came when new materials with greater elasticity led to the all in one baby garment the “babygrow”. This was followed by babies being dressed in cut down versions of current adult clothes and fashionable materials like denim which would have been considered too rough for a baby’s tender skin by our ancestors.

    To her sister Mrs. Dewes April 23. 1741

    “I will get myself perfectly informed of the new dress for the bantling, that I may instruct you when I come to Gloucester. I have sent you four yards of course long lawn, and two yards of finer for the little nightcaps, etc.; I suppose you will line the cradle with dimity or white calico, quilted…as for pins, I think you must pay the compliment to Gloucester of buying pins there.”

    November 12. 1742 to her sister

    “I am as much perplexed for you as you can be for yourself in regard to my godson, but I think you can be reconciled to the nurse’s house, that the story you have heard can be no great objection, but will for the future make her more careful, as she seems a good sort of woman. A deaf nurse is not to be endured; the poor little dear may make his little moans, and have a thousand uneasinesses that she will hear nothing of.”

    February 28. 1745-6 Delville to her sister

    “Mrs. Viney tells me you are better than you have ever been yet, and that my niece eats paps purely. It will save some trouble if you can bring her up by hand, and since she is naturally so stout I believe it may perhaps be done.”

    March 8. 1745-6 Delville

    “I am very glad my niece Mary takes so well to her food; I don’t see why it should not rear her up as it did me.”

    The system of wet nursing could produce excellent results both in the health of the child and in providing happy early years as seen in William Hickey: Memoirs of a Georgian Rake.

    #William Hickey

    1749-1830

    William Hickey, a man who loved good company and pleasure, sowed his wild oats in London. He spent 27 years in India, as an attorney at the Supreme Court in Calcutta. He claimed that the object of the Court was to counteract the prevalent notion that Europeans could with impunity harass the natives. He worked hard and like others there at that time was very well rewarded. He kept 60 servants including an Italian hairdresser. He was fortunate in escaping the many fevers which overcame most Europeans and returning to retire in Beaconsfield in 1807 where he wrote the story of his many adventures.

    “I made my appearance …on the 30th of June 1749. I was soon pronounced a most lovely child. My mother had suckled the first three infants herself, but, this being deemed prejudicial to her health, she was forbid continuing it, and I was therefore sent to be nursed at Hampstead, at a clean and neat cottage, the property of a respectable old woman named Page, from the breast of whose daughter, Ann Page (for she had married a person of her own name), I drew my nourishment. Ann Page was an uncommonly beautiful creature, who also adored me….At Hampstead I remained until nearly four years old, when my first breeches were put on, and I was then taken away from my dearly loved, ‘sweet Ann Page’, the separation from whom wrung my little heart with the first sorrow it ever felt, nor did I ever forget her extreme affection for me”.

    A different aspect of childbirth is dealt with by James Lackington. In the 18th Century paternity was assumed on the allegation of the pregnant woman. Some innocent men must have suffered but in this case events saved Lackington.

    #James Lackington

    James Lackington was a man from the humblest of backgrounds who taught himself to read after his conversion to Methodism. He rose so far as to become one of the most well known and biggest London bookseller. Instead of destroying books which did not sell well he sold them cheaply thus starting the modern way of selling remainders. Lackington, then a journeyman shoemaker, left his mistress at Taunton after a quarrel and made his way by stages to Bristol. Later:

    “The Taunton carrier gave me a letter from my good (former) mistress Bowden. The contents of this letter very much surprised me. It informed me that a day or two before I fell out with my last mistress…Betty Tucker, a common lass, had sworn a child to me; that the parish officers had been at my Mother’s shop within an hour after I had left to go to Wellington, and they had been at Wellington just as I had left that place, and afterwards hearing that I was in Bridgewater, they had pursued me thither. But the morning they arrived I had set off for Exbridge; and believing that I had intentionally fled before them, they had given over this chase for the present…I was weak enough to imagine that a kind of miracle had been wrought to save me from a prison, or to save me from living with a woman I could not bear the idea of living with a single week..I had not any knowledge of her being with child (not having seen her for three months before). This girl was delivered about two months afterwards of a still-born child, so that I was never troubled for expenses.”

    Elizabeth Drake’s advice that Mrs. Wrightson should feed her baby herself indicates that towards the end of the 18th Century ideas about the use of wet nurses were changing in good Society.

    Towards the end of the century people in higher social circles were evidently accepting the idea that breast feeding by the mother was much better for the child than wet nursing. Mrs. Drake to Miss Heber Mary Heber of Weston 1758-1809 Not a diarist nor a letter writer but a recipient of many letters which throw light on her time. They were published as >”Dear Miss Heber” edited by Francis Bamford in 1936. The letters were found in a trunk in Weston, Northamptonshire by Sir Sacheverell Sitwell. Mary Heber’s portrait, a miniature by Richard Cosway shows her as delicate and beautiful. Among her correspondents was Lady Banks, wife of Sir Joseph, the naturalist and botanist.

    Elizabeth Drake

    Elizabeth Drake was wife of Francis William Drake, Vice Admiral of the Red, 2nd son of Sir Francis Henry Drake, 4th Bt. A descendant of the Elizabethan Sir Francis Drake.

    Tuesday 20 May 1788

    “I much wish to see your little Niece, but hope that you will not admit anyone for a fortnight at least to visit your Sister, [Harriot Wrightson] as her future health depends greatly on her being kept quiet. I hope she means to nurse the dear little Girl herself, for I am sure it will be a great pleasure to her, and of advantage both to her health and the child.”

    Mrs. Wrightson to Mary Heber Swalcliffe. 8 March 1789

    “The child has now pretty quiet nights, but that nasty humour still continues & has lately disguised her amazing by breaking out in scabs on her face. She yesterday became possess’d of a 7th Tooth, which like the former she cut with ease. She is remarkably quick in understanding everything that is said to her.”

    Mrs. Drake to Miss Heber Decr. 1789 “…I feel inconceivable pleasure at your sister being so well and able to perform what I think the duty of every Mother to her little Boy, who will, I dare say, thrive much better than if he had a wet nurse.”

    Mrs. Drake to Miss Heber Hillingdon Heath. 17 Febry. 1793

    “…Mr. Fane and Lady Elizabeth [her sister] came; their four daughters with them. Augusta is the name of the youngest: she has had three Wet Nurses and none gave satisfaction, so the old Lying in nurse came here with her, and she is fed with pap made of Asses’ milk and it seems to agree with her for she looks extremely healthy and well.”

    #Dr.Peter Oliver

    Dr. Oliver was born in 1741 and raised in Boston, New England. He was a Loyalist and left his home for England in 1776 when the danger from rioters became unbearable for supporters of George 111 He attended lectures at the Royal College of Surgeons by John Hunter. Though very well qualified he does not mention practising in England . He settled in Birmingham and devoted himself to bringing up his three children after the death of his wife. His wife and two of his children died of tuberculosis.

    “On the 7th Day of Jany. 1771 early in the morning Mrs. Oliver was delivered of a fine Girl. She was put to bed as well as any Woman whatever & had a fine getting up, but little milk & the Child throve but poorly, however at 5 months old it was weaned, it then grew very fast was a great favourite with everybody whereupon I thought myself exceeding happy but immediately gave it up to the Care of Heaven as it was only lent me.” [Margaret Hutchinson Oliver, first child and only daughter known as Peggy. The last sentence seems to suggest she died in infancy, but must have been a pious sentiment as Peggy lived to be a young woman, but only just.] “In July the 15th 1772 Mrs. Oliver was brought to bed of a son [Thomas H. Oliver] a good Travail, but the child weak and feable. She made out to suckle it & did well only she was severely troubled with sore nipples.”

    23 Sept. 1774

    “Mrs. Oliver was brought to bed of another son a fine hearty boy.” This was Peter. These children were born in Middleborough, Mass. Their parents had been born in Boston. The family fled to England in 1776.The chapter on parents and children tells more of their childhood.”

    April 19th 1775

    “The fatal Battle of Lexington which blocked us up in Boston.”

    June 17th

    “Following: the fatal battle of Bunker’s Hill We remained blocked up in Boston till the beginning of March 1776 when we were ordered to embark. Governor Hutchinson’s Family [Oliver’s wife was Sally Hutchinson] went aboard the Hyde pacquet for England.

    March 25 1776

    “We set sail for England after a tedious passage of 35 days we arrived at Falmouth the last day of April following. The day before we set sail from Nantucket Tommy’s Wife was delivered of a boy which had not a drop of milk during the whole passage was much emaciated & no one thought it would have lived- the Lady well. As to myself I was sick 21 days without any support reduced almost to a skeleton- 7 children on board ship & the oldest not 6 years old.”

    They landed in Falmouth and on 6 May 15 of them set out in Post Chaises and came to London.”

    12 May

    “to St. James St at the Govrns.”

    23 Dec. 1778

    “Mrs. Oliver was delivered of a fine boy christened Daniel & the same complaint of the breast [sore nipples] from suckling.”

    April 1 1779

    “I inoculated the child at 4 months old but what with the Death & the anxiety of its Mother he was so loaded with it that it killed him-26 days from inoculation.”

    Dr. Oliver’s agony and grief at the loss of his wife and subsequently his children is intimated by his manner of writing the date, the month and days of the life. They are noted as if he is meditating on each day the life lasted as precious and pointing the gulf between those days and a barren future. He seems not to have remarried .At that time it would have been highly unusual for a widower with 4 children, one an infant, not to have remarried rather quickly. He lived as what today is called a single parent, mainly in lodgings which he changed frequently. This sounds uncomfortable, but house ownership was rare at that time when most people would rent houses,

    18 May 1780

    “Mrs. Oliver delivered of a son- put to bed well but in 3 days she faltered. Mrs. Oliver grew worse faster every day ’till she died which was the 28th of June past 3 o’clock in the morning. That day I compleated my 39th Year. She was 36 Years & 7 months old. She died perfectly resigned to the Will of Heaven, but in great agony of body.”

    July 3

    “She was buried in Croydon Church next to her Father.”

    July 21

    “I set off with a wet Nurse and my 4 children for Oxford.”

    July 22

    “From Oxford to Birmingham.” [where his father now lived.]

    July25

    “I put my two oldest boys to School at Winson Green under the care of Mr. Pickering.”

    July 27

    “I put my daughter to school at Moseley in Worcester.[now South Birmingham] under the care of Mrs. Henrison. & the Nurse & Baby in New Hall Street. Thus I had disposed of my Children in the best manner I possibly could. It appeared at first hard to part with them but I have got reconciled at last to it-but the pleasing reflection I had of seeing them often was soon turned to sorrow for my dear little Infant who was very near my heart particularly was drooping in a few weeks after I had got lodgings for it and finally was seized with convulsions the 20th August, lay in that state till the morning of 27th, 3 o’clock and then died in the greatest agony. I had it opened by Tomlinson Its Lungs, Heart, Diaphragm, Stomach & Intestines & all its Viscera were in the soundest state–whatever produced the fits was something on the Brain which could not have been perceived if we had opened its head. I moved the 29th August to High Street opposite New Street at Mrs. Ballard’s one bedroom only at 3/6d. per week for the Hotel.” [bed without board]

    August 30th

    “I buried my little baby the Northside of St.Philip’s Church [now Cathedral] near the Vaults 6 feet deep. Mr. James read Prayers.”

    August 31. “I paid off and dismissed Nurse Dove hoping never to see her again.”

    [The deep burial of the infant is an indication of the care of his father. The note on the dismissal of the nurse suggests that at the least Dr. Oliver thought her care of the child inadequate.]

    R.J.S. Stevens

    Organist and song writer Stevens was trained as a choir boy, became a glee club singer, and a private teacher. His fortune improved after Lord Thurlow, the Lord Chancellor, engaged him to teach his daughter Caroline. His love story deserves a place among the more extraordinary stories of devotion. More details are in the chapter on music.

    Just over thirty years after Peter Oliver’s last baby was born an only son and first born child was born to a 43 year old mother. On August 7th 1811 Anna-Maria Stevens gave birth to a son after a labour of only 4 hours. Considering her age and that it was her first pregnancy all went well and quickly. Stevens got the apothecary, Mr. Spry to his wife in time to assist her, then spent the rest of the night walking about in search of a doctor, arriving back with Dr. Sims half an hour too late.

    “When I saw my dearest Woman, I was happy to find her much better than I expected. My son looked very small, but cried stoutly, which I thought a sign of strength. My Footman, John Farndell, was exceedingly active in going to our nurse Mrs. Howard: by his exertion she was at the Charterhouse time enough to dress the child. Mrs. Gunn who slept at Charterhouse was likewise very attentive to Anna while I was absent before Mrs. Howard’s arrival.”

    Thursday August the 8th

    “It was discovered that the child had not strength sufficient to draw his Mother’s Milk. We then applied to Mrs. Greenwood, who was suckling her infant, and she came occasionally to my Son; all of us thinking that her milk would flow much easier than my dearest Anna’s milk.”

    Monday August the 12th

    “My dearest Anna -Maria, and my Son were gaining strength every day: this continued to the 15th of August. On Friday the 16th of August, we did not think the Child quite so well, and I applied to the Reverend Arthur Trollope of Christ’s Hospital, and Curate of St. Botolph, Aldersgate, to half baptize my son. This he did in the morning by the names Richard George.” Saturday August the 17th “We were advised by Mr. Croft (I believe very foolishly) to have a wet nurse for my Son. We engaged one, Sarah Cole her name. Notwithstanding this engagement, Mrs. Greenwood came to the Child occasionally, and her son John Greenwood used to draw Anna’s breast, having more strength than my Son Richard.. ”

    Sunday August the 18th, “I thought my dearest Anna-Maria and my Son Richard were in better health. They both gained strength daily! and on Tuesday August the 20th, Mr. Croft said, “my little boy was now perfectly safe”. We parted with Sarah Cole our wet nurse, this day, as it was thought her milk did not agree with Richard.”

    Friday the 23rd of August

    “Mr. Croft recommended Anna to have another Wet Nurse to my little boy, as Anna’s milk was still so backward. He mentioned an Irish woman to her, and she agreed to come to us immediately; at the same time this woman came to the Charterhouse, and Anna saw her she gave her a Dollar. the woman was so base, as never to come to us afterward!”

    Sunday the 25th August

    “We had a third wet nurse to my Son. Anna’s milk was notwithstanding every effort, so backward. Her name I have forgotten. She would not let my Son have more than the produce of one of her breasts; she brought her child with her. not withstanding this, the child got forward with a little of her milk, and a good supply of arrowroot.”

    Thursday the 29th of August

    “Anna and myself, were determined that our son Richard,should endeavour to suck his mother. The child was a little griped at the first operation, but according to Mr. Spry’s strong advice, by perseverance, and the greatest attention on the part of my dearest woman, the child did succeed in getting his nourishment from his Mother’s breasts.”

    The 31st of August, Saturday

    “My dearest Anna came down into the dining room for the first time since her confinement. My son was improving every day in health, in consequence of having his Mother’s milk. This day we discharged the 3rd Wet Nurse as she was of no use to us. She was a very fine lady.”

    This account illustrates very clearly the difficulties of feeding babies when there was no alternative to breast milk either from the mother or some other lactating mother who was willing to feed both her own and some other child. A slightly unusual aspect of this case is that the two women Anna & Mrs Greenwood at times exchanged babies to enable the weaker child to suckle from the woman whose milk flowed more easily. Today with the epidemic of AIDS hospitals do not allow stronger mothers to help in this way. The Stevens were clearly desperate in trying every possibility both breast-feeding and wet nursing and in engaging one wet nurse after another. Two weeks later Anna Maria became ill with violent night perspiration. The child also began to droop. Stevens consulted Dr. Babington who recommended leaving London immediately. They went to Mr. Jeffery’s house in Peckham, at that time a village in the country. During the next fortnight Stevens feared he would lose both of them, but on

    Sunday the 22nd of September

    “Our dear little treasure was thought to be better! a very great comfort to his anxious father and mother, and all Mr. Jeffery’s family.” Happily this much loved child survived to manhood. The birth saga ended with the Churching of Anna in the parlour of their house at Charterhouse on October the 8th. This private ceremony seems odd as the purpose of Churching was to give public thanks and marked the woman’s return to the community after childbirth. Richard was weaned on August 11th, four days after his first birthday.

    The last extract is an amusing account of a consequence of breast feeding which was a little embarrassing to the gentleman, a clergyman in the early 19th century. The writer Eliza was wife of the speaker of the House of Commons, later Viscount Hampden.

    Eliza Brand to her husband Henry Brand

    August 25th 1844. Glynde

    “Dearest Henry I went yesterday to see the small St. Croix, a very nice baby but there is some difficulty about the nursing. Mrs St. Croix told me in a plaintive voice that she had sat up in bed four hours in the early morning trying to make the baby eat as it should in vain. At last she was obliged to send for William to pump out some milk for it. I looked naturally a little surprised. Oh! she said I have a little air pump to do it with, but cannot manage it myself. I laughed internally, fancy the dear William pumping. I must say it strikes me as rather a queer occupation for a gentleman.” [Mr. St, Croix had recently become vicar at Glynde.]

    Note Breast pumps were used to relieve breast engorgement. Some mid-Victorian examples consisted of decorative brass pumps, with a shaped milk reservoir stored in a polished velvet lined mahogany case. Women who fed babies well after the eruption of teeth needed the protection of nipple shields which were made in sterling silver, glass, pewter and rarely boxwood.

    The use of wet nurses virtually ceased in the19th Century after the invention of formulas to replace breast milk. The first was invented in 1869 by Justus von Liebig and was mixed with cows milk. Henri Nestle later created a formula which was mixed with cows milk. Formulas have continued to improve but today the mother28s breast milk is considered to be the best option for a baby. Medicine too has made great progress so that in the West today it is unusual for a baby not to survive infancy.

  • The Army

    Few aspects of modern life are more different than the conditions endured by soldiers in the 18th century army.

    Our soldiers today still fight, endure wounds, amputations and death but their conditions of service are so much better that they would be astonished if they read the accounts left by their ancestors who fought in Spain and Portugal during the Peninsular wars against Napoleon.

    The 18th Century soldier besides fighting had to himself undertake the duties of the commissariat, as such provision was utterly inadequate. This applied to all the absolute necessities of life, food, clothing, shelter and medical care and travel.

    Most of the earlier wars were fought in other countries and the armies endured long and dangerous journeys in sailing ships before they could even meet their enemies. The soldiers often arrived weakened by sea sickness and battering for days by storms.

    After their arrival they travelled overland mainly marching on foot, aided by horses, ponies or donkeys. The greatest problem for both our army and their French opponents was provision of food for men and animals.

    Modern armies enlist some women, not so 18th Century armies though one or two women did fight disguised as men. But some women followed the army in the Peninsular War and were officially recognised. The usual number was 6 per regiment. Some were of great help to the soldiers, others brawling, drunken nuisances. All endured incredible hardships. They were both a help and a burden to the soldiers who themselves had to provide for their needs as well as they could. How inadequately is shown in the example of one sergeant who secured a small pigsty for his wife to shelter in when on the march, she worked hard to clean it but was dispossessed by the adjutant’s clerk. She then spent the night in the open with her husband, the two of them sharing his blanket. for four years both officers and men had to sleep under the stars and in their later years many peninsular officers and men suffered greatly from rheumatism.

    When tents were supplied in the last year of the campaign the situation for a modest woman was equally dreadful. Sergeant James Anton wrote in his memoirs that the tents were in theory to house 18, in practice it was usually less. On one night 11 soldiers lay in it with the Sergeant and his wife. They all stretch out with their feet to the centre, every man’s head below his knapsack. One half of the blankets were below them, the other half on top so that they all lay in one bed. At daybreak every man got up folded his blanket, strapped it to his knapsack and was ready for the march. As for the poor young woman she could scarcely sleep waiting for the dawn.

    “I now resolved, if possible not to mix blankets with so many bedfellows again because at that time the whole of the men were affected with an eruption on the skin similar to the itch, and their clothing was in a very filthy state, owing to it being seldom shifted, and always kept on during the night. I now set about erecting a hut for self and wife.”

    With the help of others he finished his temporary hut in a day. His wife’s apron did service for a door and when up they were not disturbed. He made more weatherproof huts in the following days but did not long enjoy them as the call to orders soon came. the camp and the hut were abandoned as the march began.

    John Spencer Cooper, a sergeant in the 7th Royal Fusiliers, recounts an even greater hardship on the march. “After passing through an immense forest of pine trees, nearly all of which were remarkably crooked, a soldier’s wife was delivered of a child after we had halted for the night. Next morning she was placed on a horse and marched with the column.”

    Sergeant Joseph Donaldson likewise was amazed at what the women who followed the men in the Peninsular campaign endured: marching often in a state of pregnancy, frequently bearing their children in the open air, in some instances on the line of march by the road side and suffering at the same time all the privations to which the army was liable.

    “In quarters on the other hand they were assailed by every temptation that could be thrown their way and every scheme laid by those who had rank and money to rob them of their virtue. Their starving condition was often taken advantage of by those who had it in their power to supply them.”

    Most of the soldiers wives were stouthearted. Bridget Skiddy was one of them. She was married to a private in the 34th Foot, and carried her husband, his knapsack, and musket when he could go no further during a retreat:

    “an’ me back was bruck intirely from that time to this, an’ it will never get straight till I go to the Holy Well in Ireland, and have Father McShane’s blessin’. “

    These women were tough and hard-bitten, no better and no worse than their men. Their language and propensity for looting was a perpetual source of irritation to the Provost Marshall, yet Wellington knew his army could not manage without these stouthearted women. They succoured the wounded, mended the clothes, cobbled their shoes and helped them to retain their basic decency.

    The wives of Officers also worked and suffered. John Luard records that Susan wife of Charles Dalbiac hurried out from England to nurse her husband through a fever he had contracted in the steaming valley of the Guadiana, in doing so she braved the disapproval of the commander in chief who very much disapproved of officers’ wives accompanying their husbands on campaign.

    Colonel Dalbiac later wrote to a friend:

    “Whenever the Regiment took to the field Mrs. Dalbiac accompanied me on horseback and such was the case on the day of the battle of Salamanca. She remained near the extreme right of our position, whence the heavy brigade of the cavalry had moved for the attack…here she had the fortitude to remain during the whole of the action, tho’ so completely within cannon range that shots from the enemy’s guns frequently raked up the dust near her horses feet. Of this incomparable wife I will only add that with a mind of a most refined cast, and with a frame alas too delicate, she was when in the field, a stranger to fear.”

    For many hours after the battle she believed her husband had been killed. She spent the night searching the battlefield for her husband’s body. It was a horrifying experience. The wounded were lying suffering under the stars and being plundered by soldiers and camp followers. All the dead bodies were stripped naked by their own troops. They thought little of it as they suffered such privations, needed good clothes and knew they too might soon be dead.

    Susan Dalbiac survived this ordeal and found her husband alive the next morning and rode at his side in the triumphal march into Madrid. Mary Anton was left behind as the army crossed the river Adour. While waiting for the bridge to be repaired she was asked by another woman to look after her loaded colt. This animal would not move when the time came. She was in despair when a grenadier came up. He noticed that she had a horn with the masonic arms cut into it. The sight of these talismanic hieroglyphics inspired him to help her with the colt and move safely on.

    A sidelight on the thinking of Peninsula soldiers on more general problems is given by Sergeant Anton who encountered Jews in spain and shows a high degree of tolerance for his time.

    Sergeant Anton on Jews in 1829

    “A considerable number of Jews reside on the rock of Gibraltar. not a few of the mercantile speculations are conducted by them. They are not excluded from any civil employment, and it is rare to find one of them betray any public trust confided to him.. When we witness their mercantile abilities, their devoted attachment to a religion that hurts not the nation in which it is tolerated, it is somewhat surprising that they are not held in more esteem than they really are. Like the Society of Friends, they form no hostile intentions towards the state which gives them protection; they set up no rival-ships for converts, to cause jealousy; their religion is that from which we have partly drawn our own, and that to which we refer in many cases for religious observances. If these people have acquires a bad name for extortion and usury, it may justly be ascribed to the many arbitrary impositions to which they have been subjected.”

    The extraordinary and almost total lack of provision of food during the Peninsular campaign is made startlingly clear in the memoirs of Sergeant John Spenser Cooper. the picture he paints is almost surreal. the soldiers seem almost mad in their hunger.

    “The commissary having no bread for us, we were marched into a newly reaped field of wheat, of which each man received a sheaf instead. Laughable it was to see hundreds of soldiers bearing away their burdens, but we could make little use of the corn for want of the means of grinding it.”

    “Notwithstanding our weak state through want of food, we had to drag the artillery by ropes up some steep mountains, as horses could not keep on their feet. Great numbers of these animals died. Men looked like skeletons. Our clothing was in rags; shirts, shoes, and stockings were worn out; and there was no bread served for six days. All we got was a pound of bad lean beef for each day. Happy was the soldier who had a little salt.”
    Later they halted on the steep banks of the Rio del Monte. They had to cut holes in the hill to rest in at night to prevent themselves sliding down the steep hillside.
    They had no tents, not even blankets. how did they sleep?

    “We slept in the open air. The greatcoat was inverted, and our legs were thrust into the sleeves, one half was put under us, and the other half above. The knapsack formed our pillow. Thus arranged and with the forage cap pulled over our ears, we bid good night to the stars, and rested as we could.
    We frequently went down to the river, pulled off our shirts, washed them with or without soap, knocked them well on the flat stones, and then hung them on the rocks or bushes, picked off the vermin, and when dry put them on again.”

    At camp near Badajoz they were afflicted with scorpions. One crept up the sleeve of a soldier’s great coat while he slept. His arm turned blue and he was in hospital for several days.

    Sickness

    “I had an attack of dysentery; this was succeeded by fever. A large blister was put on my back and one on each instep.”

    Blister plasters were designed to act as a “counter irritant” to alleviate pain. The plaster, applied to the skin, caused a red spot or blister. The idea was that blood beneath the plaster and the whole “bulk of blood in the body” would set forth to the reddened area. The artificially created inflammation, it was thought, would draw the blood away from the afflicted part of the body and hence ease any “pain and suffering.”

    One of the worst causes of suffering was being moved by the primitive transport available. Cooper was moved on a cart drawn by two bullocks. The slow pace and jolting were unbearable. The slowness in receiving attention was the next problem. The numbers of sick and wounded always being far greater than the soldier orderlies there to tend them. Cooper was left on the cart until night. He was then helped up the steps of a convent and laid down on the cold flags at the stairhead and left there until removed by order of the surgeon. He was carried into a corridor among 200 sick and dying men.

    “My appetite and hearing were gone; feet and legs like ice; the three blisters on my back and feet unhealed and undressed; my shirt sticking in the wounds caused by the blisters; my necessaries lost.”

    He asked a woman belonging to the regiment to bring him some tea and gave her some small loaves he could not eat, but she forgot to bring the tea. Some days later he was moved in small covered wagon drawn by mules to Elvas. He relapsed again. The orderlies were brutes. In spite of all his appetite and strength began to return. The doctor allowed him more bread and a pint of wine a day and he recovered. Orders came to march to join the army at the other end of Portugal. In spite of his weakness he managed the first day’s march of 8 miles. Thereafter he grew stronger but his problems were not over. He and his companions had sold their blankets and greatcoats on the route to buy bread coffee etc. On arrival they went up before the Colonel who wanted to know where the kit issued to them at Elvas had gone. Lost, stolen or worn out were their replies. At last the Colonel said:

    “It astonishes me that you Light Company men sly and keen as you are, should have been so unfortunate.” It was more astonishing that we escaped flogging.”

    After a 4th bout of fever while quartered in a convent in Guarda he tried to improve his appearance by ripping up and turning the inside of his trousers out. In the process he ran the needle deep into his knee joint, but by taking great care managed to remove it without breaking and suffered no more bad effects after but stiffness.

    The alternative thinking provoked by the extreme lack of food is shown in this anecdote.

    ” While in the village of Avarios de Cema in an old house we probed as was usual the earthen floor with a ramrod, and we found a box in which was a bag of Indian corn. This was taken by one of our men who had been a miller to a windmill at some distance. He set it going and ground the corn, of which we made several messes of passable porridge.”

    Later passing through a wood they found several bags of meal and tried dumpling making but the stuff would not stick together.

    “When boiled the dumplings looked like little frightened hedgehogs. To get a mouthful I had to pick a lot of prickles from the mass. The stuff turned out to be unsifted barley meal and was meant for the french cavalry.”

    After the battle of Vittoria where they nearly captured King Joseph who seeing his danger sprang from his carriage and mounted a horse and gave them the slip; the famine turned to feast. Among the enemy stores they found sacks of flour, leaf tobacco, and hundreds of bullocks and sheep.

    Cooper made and baked several loaves which were rather burnt and milked a goat from which he had a splendid supper. Three days march later he came upon his brother who was famished. He and his companions had been obliged to eat bean tops for three days.

    “I was happy to supply him with some badly burnt cakes, some flour and a little money.”

    note: From “Seven Campaigns” by J.S. Cooper. Late Sergeant in the 7th Royal Fusiliers.
    Carlisle: G. & T. Coward, Ltd.

    The conditions of soldiers

    Apart from the danger and suffering inevitable in their calling from battles and travel to foreign lands there was much suffering from the conditions of every day life imposed upon them by their profession. Such necessities as food and clothing which their commissariat should have supplied in reasonable quality and quantity were often lacking. As Napoleon said an army marches on its stomach and both french and English soldiers suffered.

    The problems of logistics and supply in the Peninsular War loom large in Douglas’s memoirs. His ability incisively to illustrate the fundamental factors inhibiting the mobility of the British Army in the Peninsula is vividly illustrated in the following extract (pp 62-3):

    “The pursuit commenced at all points. But this proved to be one of the hungriest marches we encountered during the war. Nor will it appear strange how this could happen when rightly understood. Say the troops marched four or five leagues each day at least, while the Commissariat mules with their provisions were not able to make three or three [and a half]. Thus every day we were getting further away from our own rations, without the smallest hope of relief on our front.”

    James Anton in his retrospective of Military Life details problems caused by the care of hair in 1804.

    “a general order was issued for the Army to discontinue the tying of the hair, and to have it cropped.
    Never was an order received with more heartfelt satisfaction than this, or obeyed with more alacrity.
    The tying was a daily penance, and a severe one, to which every man had to submit. Every morning he had to daub the side of his head with dirty grease, soap and flour until every hair stood like the burr of a thistle, and the back was padded and pulled so that every hair had to keep its due place. It was no uncommon circumstance for us when on the guard bench and asleep to have rats and mice scrambling above our heads eating the filthy stuff with which our hair was daubed.”

    Harry Ross-Lewin confirmed this description.

    “When I joined the Militia in 1793 all military men wore their hair clubbed, that is each had a huge false tail attached by means of a string that passed round the upper part of his head, and over it the hair was combed and well thickened with powder of flour; a plastering of pomatum or grease was then laid on; a square bag of sand was next placed at the extremity of the tail, rolled up with the assistance of a small oblong iron until it touched the head and tied with a leather thong. After the arrangement of the tail, the officers’ foretops were rubbed up with a stick of pomatum, a most painful operation, especially on cold mornings, and often calling the salt rheum to the eyes. When this was over the Friseur retired a pace or two for the purpose of frosting, which was effected by means of a elastic cylinder filled with powder. It let fall upon the hair a light shower of powder. Lastly the powder knife prepared the head for parade by arching the temples and shaping the whiskers to a point.The men powdered only on dress days.

    John Skipp enlisted when he was 13 looking forward to a merry and exciting life. his first experience was disillusioning.

    “I was taken to a barber’s and deprived of my curly brown locks. My hair curled beautifully , but in a minute my poor little head was nearly bald, except a small parch behind which was reserved fora future operation…having my hair tied for the first time. A large piece of candle grease was applied first to the sides of my hair, then to the hind long hair; after this the same kind of operation was performed with nasty stinking soap.”

    Like the other men he suffered having a bag of sand poked into the back of his head round which the hair was gathered tightened and tied with a leather thong.

    “When I was dressed for parade I could scarcely get my eyelids to perform their office; the skin of my eyes and face was drawn so tight by the plug that I could not possibly shut my eyes.”

    Fortunately for the soldiers the queue was fazed out in 1808.

    Clothes

    In museums and book illustrations we see how new or decently preserved uniforms looked. But when in use on campaign they were almost unrecognisable.

    James Anton wrote:

    “The clothing of the 91st. Regiment had been two years in wear. some had the elbows of their coats mended with grey cloth, others had one half of a sleeve of a different colour from the body. As out march continued daily no time was found to repair shoes until completely worn out, this left a number to march with bare feet or as we termed it “to pad the hoof”. The men with no shoes were made to march in the rear of the brigade, their feet cut or torn by sharp stones or brambles. The raw hides of newly slaughtered bullocks were cut up to form a sort of buskin or substitute for shoes for the bare footed soldiers.”

    John Shipp also wrote on clothes:

    “I was then paraded to the tailor’s shop and deprived of my new clothes-coat , leathers and hat for which I received in exchange red jacket, red waistcoat, red pantaloons and red foraging cap. I was exceedingly tall but my sleeves were rather longer than my fingers and the whole hung on me.”

    Shipp went on to have an original army career. At the age of 15 he was sentenced to 999 lashes for desertion, but this was cancelled by a humane CO. he was then promoted from the ranks not once but twice. and twice sold his commission.

    Wives of Soldiers

    The Government allowed six wives to embark on service to every hundred men. women with more than 2 children were never allowed. The others should be of good character and were of use and comfort to all doing their washing and needlework. More than this some were heroic.

    The rules of the 95th Rifle Corps stationed at Shorncliffe, Kent specified that Needlework should never be given out of the regiment by the Quartermaster, that a charity fund should assist sick women, the children of the regiment should be under its care, should be well and cleanly clothed and regularly attend school. This seems a high standard for the time, but all changed on foreign service. Those who went overseas were selected by ballot. On campaign they were to march or ride donkeys ahead of their husbands to prepare meals and bivouacs though in practise this was often impossible.
    The wives of Officers also worked and suffered. John Luard records that Susan wife of Charles Dalbiac hurried out from England to nurse her husband through a fever he had contracted in the steaming valley of the Guadiana, in doing so she braved the disapproval of the commander in chief who very much dis approved of officers wives accompanying their husbands on campaign. Colonel Dalbiac later wrote to a friend:

    “Whenever the Regiment took to the field Mrs. Dalbiac accompanied me on horseback and such was he case on the day of the battle of Salamanca. She remained near the extreme right of our position, whence the heavy brigade of the cavalry had moved for the attack…here she had the fortitude to remain during the whole of the action, tho’ so completely within cannon range that shots from the enemy’s guns frequently raked up the dust near her horses feet. Of this incomparable wife I will only add that with a mind of a most refined cast, and with a frame alas too delicate, she was when in the field, a stranger to fear.”

    For many hours after the battle she believed her husband had been killed. She spent the night searching the battlefield for her husband’s body. It was a horrifying experience. The wounded were lying suffering under the stars and being plundered by soldiers and camp followers. All the dead bodies were stripped naked by their own troops. They thought little of it as they suffered such privations, needed good clothes and knew they too might soon be dead.

    Susan Dalbiac survived this ordeal and found her husband alive the next morning and rode at his side in the triumphal march into Madrid. Mary Anton was left behind as the army crossed the river Adour. While waiting for the bridge to be repaired she was asked by another woman to look after her loaded colt. This animal would not move when the time came. She was in despair when a grenadier came up. He noticed that she had a horn with the masonic arms cut into it. The sight of these talismanic hieroglyphics inspired him to help her with the colt and move safely on.

    William Green late Rifle Brigade wrote his memoir “Brief outline of his travels and Adventures.” He was in the retreat to Corunna under Sir John Moore. The march was 250 miles.

    “We had no tents. A blanket had to be served out to each man; we marched from daylight until dark; the bullocks were driven before us; and slaughtered as they were needed; they had little or no fat on them. But if we had time to boil our mess well, we counted more of the soup than the meat, as it was so tough. But it was not often that we could do this. We seldom halted for more than two hours; and having wood and water to seek to cook our victuals, before we could do so, the order would be given to get under arms and get on the march.”

    In spite of the dreadful conditions of war some extraordinary examples of compassion were recorded. Near Cacabellos a soldier had been tried by court martial and was sentenced to be hanged. He had the rope round his neck, fastened to the branch of a tree and sat upon two men’s shoulders, with a cap drawn over his face, waiting for the signal for the men to let him drop, when Sir John Moore, with a loud voice, said “If I forgive this man, will the army be answerable for his future good conduct?” Our brave Colonel said “Yes?” and the word “Yes” went round the ranks three times, and the man’s life was spared.

  • Barbarossa & The Crusades

    Tuesday 29 May 1945
    By today my will power is defeated. I lay in bed when I should have been up for early Mass.
    I gave in a nasty exercise on turning parts of Hannibal and Epaminondas into ‘oratio obliqua”. Betty had practically done it for me the night before in the library. Eileen Betty’s sister did not turn up again and Betty left her writing case at Victoria. A disheartening day.

    Wednesday 30 May
    Essay on Barbarossa returned. I lunched with Marie Gormer and Pat’s crowd in the Snack Bar of Women s Union.
    Went to Central Reference Library to start an essay on the Crusades. slogged on books in French.
    Phoned Mama. she met me in Town having brought some provisions for the Sedgley party. I sent a PC to Auntie annie about the Sedgley Choir Broadcast.

    Thursday 31 May
    Feast of Corpus Christi. We went to the Priory for Mass and Holy Communion.
    Liver paste for breakfast.
    Prof Redford gave his last lecture–an awfully good one.
    During this week I think I spent every spare minute swotting at Maupassant.
    That night at Sedgley Dr. Knight lectured on Eliot, a magnificent lecture which inspired me afterwards to write a huge letter home chock full of Eliot quotations.
    Before the lecture Mother Cecily asked me to sit next to her and share my Eliot with her. Thus I was mixed with the Hierarchy. She also asked me to contribute to the discussion to prevent Knights taking away the idea that Sedgley was altogether dumb.
    Julie Lynch and Joan Ince from the University English school came to the lecture.
    Knights did “The Hollow Men” “Ash Wednesday” “A Song for Simeon” “Triumphal March” and the Four Quartets of which only the first “Burnt Norton ” is in My Eliot.
    Julie was absolutely thrilled and we went to bed enraptured. A splendid evening ( Knights was one of the foremost exponents of Eliot’s Poetry.)

    Friday 1 June

    Did not get up (for Mass)
    Whitehead in his last set book lecture did the first three stories in Maupassant. In the afgernoon he gave a literature lecture on Maupasssnt, truly excellent. He compared Daudet and Maupassant with real psychological insight.
    The I took Sister Vincent to the Drawing room of the Union to hear the Sedgley broadcast. Lyn Lewis came in to hear it. The singing sounded very good but was spoilt for me by the rotten wireless.
    Later went to Caf. Austin & Tony Delahunty were there, Frank arrived with a new girl June Terry.
    I went to Christie for a book on the Crusades. came back to find Joan and Shirley with B. & B. in the reading Room. After some time we went to get ready for the Ambrose Barlow Society party.

    In the ensuing conversation perhaps as a result of this Teddy described Betty’s hair as straw.
    In “Ash Wednesday I noticed a line
    “Oh my people what have I done unto thee” which I recognised as a quotation from the Reproaches sung in the Good Friday Mass.(Micah 6:3)
    We had a long argument about whether they were called reproaches or not. Bernard said no and his missal in latin gave them without a heading. strangely enough no Catholic seemed to have heard of them. Bernard recommended all Maritain’s works and James Joyce’s “Ulysses” as reading.
    After Hicks’ Lecture I suddenly remembered it was the History tea in honour of Prof. Cheney’s arrival. I sat next to Rosalind Wrong ( an excellent young lecturer) or rather she to me. She was most amusing.
    Cheney gave an address on the correct use of words in essays and lectures which rather amused Prof. Redford who said if we were all as careful as Cheney we would never get anything done.
    When the end of the tea was announced I muttered to myself “this is the way the world ends” 3 times “not with a bang but a whimper.”
    Miss Wrong made the astonishing remark “Do you know what a prickly pear is?” Obviously she is acquainted with “Ash Wednesday”.
    Unfortunately I was too dumbfounded to reply.
    In Caf. were B. & B. with Robert Markus (and his friends Walter Stein, Jean Radcliffe.) Bernard McCabe had left for Middlebrough.
    I returned to Sedgley alone and chewed toffees and read Edith Sitwell’s Criticism of Eliot which I thought very penetrating.ThenI went to Benediction. Gave Mother Cecily some books on Eliot. She is very enthusiastic the only one of the Sedgley lecturers who seems interested in modern poetry.

  • Reconciliation

    Was called to Mary Sheat at the Palace and afterwards I waited on the Bishop. And he talked about the ingrateful and villainous action of Sam Hill in clandestinely marrying my daughter to Mr. Burland.

    Though the rift was to last nearly a year there is an interesting entry only 15 days after it began that Bettey’s step mother was buying her a very handsome present. It indicates that she was not in favour of a prolonged punishment. She had always been a good friend to Betley.
    Even more significant is the that Morris in recording this fact in his diary is showing a sub conscious desire for reconciliation.

  • Barbarossa & Crusades

    Tuesday 29 May 1945
    By today my will power is defeated. I lay in bed when I should have been up for early Mass.
    I gave in a nasty exercise on turning parts of Hannibal and Epaminondas into ‘oratio obliqua”. Betty had practically done it for me the night before in the library. Eileen Betty’s sister did not turn up again and Betty left her writing case at Victoria. A disheartening day.

    Wednesday 30 May
    Essay on Barbarossa returned. I lunched with Marie Gormer and Pat’s crowd in the Snack Bar of Women s Union.
    Went to Central Reference Library to start an essay on the Crusades. slogged on books in French.
    Phoned Mama. she met me in Town having brought some provisions for the Sedgley party. I sent a PC to Auntie annie about the Sedgley Choir Broadcast.

    Thursday 31 May
    Feast of Corpus Christi. We went to the Priory for Mass and Holy Communion.
    Liver paste for breakfast.
    Prof Redford gave his last lecture–an awfully good one.
    During this week I think I spent every spare minute swotting at Maupassant.
    That night at Sedgley Dr. Knight lectured on Eliot, a magnificent lecture which inspired me afterwards to write a huge letter home chock full of Eliot quotations.
    Before the lecture Mother Cecily asked me to sit next to her and share my Eliot with her. Thus I was mixed with the Hierarchy. She also asked me to contribute to the discussion to prevent Knights taking away the idea that Sedgley was altogether dumb.
    Julie Lynch and Joan Ince from the University English school came to the lecture.
    Knights did “The Hollow Men” “Ash Wednesday” “A Song for Simeon” “Triumphal March” and the Four Quartets of which only the first “Burnt Norton ” is in My Eliot.
    Julie was absolutely thrilled and we went to bed enraptured. A splendid evening ( Knights was one of the foremost exponents of Eliot’s Poetry.)

    Friday 1 June

    Did not get up (for Mass)
    Whitehead in his last set book lecture did the first three stories in Maupassant. In the afgernoon he gave a literature lecture on Maupasssnt, truly excellent. He compared Daudet and Maupassant with real psychological insight.
    The I took Sister Vincent to the Drawing room of the Union to hear the Sedgley broadcast. Lyn Lewis came in to hear it. The singing sounded very good but was spoilt for me by the rotten wireless.
    Later went to Caf. Austin & Tony Delahunty were there, Frank arrived with a new girl June Terry.
    I went to Christie for a book on the Crusades. came back to find Joan and Shirley with B. & B. in the reading Room. After some time we went to get ready for the Ambrose Barlow Society party.

    In the ensuing conversation perhaps as a result of this Teddy described Betty’s hair as straw.
    In “Ash Wednesday I noticed a line
    “Oh my people what have I done unto thee” which I recognised as a quotation from the Reproaches sung in the Good Friday Mass.(Micah 6:3)
    We had a long argument about whether they were called reproaches or not. Bernard said no and his missal in latin gave them without a heading. strangely enough no Catholic seemed to have heard of them. Bernard recommended all Maritain’s works and James Joyce’s “Ulysses” as reading.
    After Hicks’ Lecture I suddenly remembered it was the History tea in honour of Prof. Cheney’s arrival. I sat next to Rosalind Wrong ( an excellent young lecturer) or rather she to me. She was most amusing.
    Cheney gave an address on the correct use of words in essays and lectures which rather amused Prof. Redford who said if we were all as careful as Cheney we would never get anything done.
    When the end of the tea was announced I muttered to myself “this is the way the world ends” 3 times “not with a bang but a whimper.”
    Miss Wrong made the astonishing remark “Do you know what a prickly pear is?” Obviously she is acquainted with “Ash Wednesday”.
    Unfortunately I was too dumbfounded to reply.
    In Caf. were B. & B. with Robert Markus (and his friends Walter Stein, Jean Radcliffe.) Bernard McCabe had left for Middlebrough.
    I returned to Sedgley alone and chewed toffees and read Edith Sitwell’s Criticism of Eliot which I thought very penetrating.ThenI went to Benediction. Gave Mother Cecily some books on Eliot. She is very enthusiastic the only one of the Sedgley lecturers who seems interested in modern poetry.