Why History Matters – the nearest I’ll come to a political post

I deliberately don’t post about politics because I don’t like confrontation but remaining completely silent makes me part of the problem. I don’t have allegiance to a particular political party, although there is currently one that I would never vote for. This is not a political post but it certainly touches on current affairs. When I was interviewed for college, part of the interview process was to write an essay on ‘why study history?’. I don’t really remember what I wrote; it was the 1970s, I know I mentioned the Irish troubles. We need to understand history because we need to learn from it. It is no coincidence that George Santayana’s quote, ‘Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to fulfil it’, is on my home page. History is getting increasingly squeezed from the school curriculum. It is seen as being more relevant in today’s world to study computing, business studies, robotics and other subjects that were unimaginable in my school days. Don’t get me wrong, that knowledge is important but so is having a world in which to utilise that knowledge.

The human race seems to be rapidly losing the critical thinking skills that come with studying history properly. We need to be able to seek out proper evidence, we need to understand the role of propaganda and the power and danger of the megalomaniac. We need to be able to sift the truth from the distortions of the truth and downright lies that abound. There has always been propaganda and misinformation but in today’s digital world, that spreads so much faster and so much further than ever before. People believe what they read in the biased popular press and on social media. They fail to realise that some news output is not balanced and impartial but is presenting a partisan and misleading view that suits a particular political purpose. Whereas, in a pre-digital age, people were only likely to pass this rhetoric on by word of mouth, now mis-information can be passed on to thousands at the click of a button.

There are unthinking family historians following the shaky green leaves and believing impossible relationships, which they graft on to their family trees. These family trees get copied and replicated and before long, the weight of ‘evidence’ is in favour of something nonsensical. This is non-evidence; where is the source of that information? In the great scheme of things, if someone gets their family tree wrong, that does not have serious consequences. Believing other kinds of mis-information is potentially much more serious and downright dangerous. Daily, I hear or read friends and acquaintances spout or write ‘facts’ that two minutes checking would prove to be false, even if their common sense has failed to ring warning bells. The keyboard warriors don’t bother to fact check, ten, a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand people believe this, so it must be so. At a time when information has never been more accessible, we are nonetheless drowning in a sea of ignorance.

The world is currently a terrifying place. I hate watching or reading the news because I, like many, am fearful, not just for myself but for my family, my friends and a world that seems to be rapidly slipping from our hands. We seem to be rapidly evolving into a society where humans are no longer humane. What has happened to that sane world, where the majority of people are kind, are caring, are empathetic. I am not a psychologist, although I did study psychology as part of my undergraduate degree. I have however spent more than fifty years studying the people of the past, trying to understand their behaviour, their motivations and why they made the life decisions that they did.  One thing that studying history has taught me is that there have always been periods of crisis or near crisis. There have always been threats to democracy and to the status quo. There have always been individuals who have risen up to take advantage of people’s fears and who have the personality to gather followers around them, largely by latching on to one or two issues that chime with certain sections of that community in fear.

By studying history, I have observed how humans behave when they are under threat. That might be a threat of conflict from an ‘enemy’ (real or perceived), a threat of poverty at a time of dwindling resources, a threat of epidemic, of famine or of natural disaster. Humans find it difficult to cope with threats and the stress that it causes, particularly if it is unremitting, ongoing stress. Studies of those who, for example, have suffered from long term domestic abuse, or who have spent prolonged periods in a combat zone, have discovered how detrimental that stress can be both physically and mentally. As a species, we cope best with stress if we can identify the cause and lay the blame for that stress with an outsider. If the threat is perceived to come from someone not like us, it is easier to cope with than a threat from within. Who the people ‘not like us’ are has varied over the centuries. We blame the people not like us even if all logic suggests it cannot be so. In 1348, in England, Jews were blamed for the plague. It was obvious that these people not like us were poisoning the water. Except of course the Jews had been expelled from this country in 1290. We are still guilty of applying such warped ‘logic’ in order to blame people not like us for the things that we fear today.

This is not a political post because I am not brave enough. I have friends and acquaintances who do not think as I do and I am not robust enough to engage in acrimonious debate. I am selfishly wanting peace and quiet in a world where there is no peace and quiet. I am cheered by the knowledge that there are those who do sift the evidence and seek the truth and many of you reading this will be amongst them but we tend to be the quiet ones. I watch people being drawn in by bombast and rhetoric and ‘information’ that has no foundation. I see people following leaders because one aspect of what that leader spouts feeds into their fears. They do not look beyond the loud headlines and the single issues to wonder about the polices that might underline those particular political stances. They do not think of the practicalities involved, of how what is being spouted might be achieved, if indeed there is a coherent, workable plan. They do not consider how what results from these viewpoints might impact on other aspects of all our daily lives.  

Many of my followers are family historians or authors who carefully research their books. Some of you are here because I occasionally post about travel, about gardening, or special needs. Whoever you are and whyever you are here, please, please for the sake of us all, try to persuade those around you to look beyond the bombast and the catch all headlines, to look beyond the appeal to their underlying fears and analyse what is being said. To look beyond the propaganda to seek the facts. Think about what some of these policies will mean, both for us and for the people not like us. If we are the strong, we need to stand up for the weak, for those who have no voice. Let us work towards returning to a world where empathy and compassion, for each other and for people not like us, are no longer derided but are seen as core human values to be sought after and lauded. If that makes me woke, or whatever the current derisory term is, then I am very proud to be so.

Normal service, with posts in a lighter vein, will resume shortly, as long as there’s a world that will continue to allow me to do so. I’ve included a picture to lighten your day.

Ann Palmer’s Story

Please be aware that this post contains information about an historic child murder and mental distress.

I am still fighting the not-quite-working computer issues but I have paused the list of 101 things to do before September (err that would be tomorrow – oops) to share the story of Ann Palmer.

I first came across Ann when researching for a talk and book chapter about investigating the stories of our ancestors in asylums. This led me to a class of records that are at The National Archives but also online at Ancestry. The Criminal Lunatic Asylum Registers, kept by the National Lunatic Asylum and county and metropolitan asylums, are in class HO20 and cover the period 1800-1843. These contain a wealth of detail about those who had been convicted of criminal offences but were deemed to be insane. I could have spent hours looking at the detailed accounts of these tragic situations but one in particular caught my eye. This was the entry for Ann Palmer, from Dagenham, Essex, who was convicted of murder at Chelmsford Assizes in 1823. It read:

‘The jury having found that she was insane at the time of the commission of the offence declare that she was acquitted by them on account of such insanity. From Dagenham, Essex.

Previous to Commitment. About 25 years since she partially cut her throat while she lived servant at Newington. Is said to have been a good and affectionate mother. Was married to a very afflicted man who kept a small public house at Marks Gate, Padnell Corner, Dagenham and became much afflicted in her mind at her husband’s death, which happened a short time before her commitment in consequence of her being informed that his body had been stolen from the grave.

Conduct in goal since. Decidedly insane, sometimes violent, at others dull and moody but not dangerous to those about her.

Thos. Cawkivell Goaler, Jas. Hutchinson Chaplain.

The state of her bodily health varied much during the period of her confinement but more particularly since the time of her trial. She was at one time reduced to so feeble a state that considerable apprehensions were entertained of her probable dissolution but she has within the last 10 or 12 days become more tranquil and has appeared gradually to acquire a strength insomuch that I have no hesitation in pronouncing her capable of safe removal to any place which may be appointed for her. 14 August 1823 G A Gepp Surgeon.’

The record also revealed that Ann was 43 years old and died on 23February 1824.

I had a quick look for Ann in the newspaper archive but failed to find anything and Palmer was a common name, so I wasn’t getting anywhere and in any case, I had other things on the urgent list.

Every couple of weeks I get together with a lovely group of ladies to chat about family history; we enjoy encouraging each other and sharing our successes, failures and tips. I brought Ann’s case to the group. Collectively we found not one but two newspaper reports. The first, in the Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser of the 21st of July 1823 gave details of Ann’s crime.

            ‘Chelmsford July 17. Ann Palmer was indicted for the murder of her infant son, at Romford. This case excited considerable interest, and sensibly affected a very crowded auditory. The wretched prisoner, a poor widow with nine children, was place at the bar in a state of mental stupor, and it was with difficulty she was made to understand the arraignment. She, however, pleaded not guilty, and the trial proceeded.

Ann Savell deposed that she had known the prisoner about three months. On the 23rd of May the prisoner’s eldest daughter called witness into the prisoner’s house, when she saw the deceased, who was only eleven months old, stretched lifeless upon a bed, but the body was still warm. The prisoner was in the room, and witness said to her, “the dear baby is no more, but you must reconcile yourself to the event. The Lord’s will be done, not ours.” She replied, “the Lord had nothing to do with it; I killed my baby.” She seemed then much agitated, and witness left the house horror-struck at the circumstance.

Mary Palmer, the prisoner’s eldest daughter, deposed that her father had been dead about four months. Her mother was quite overpowered with grief at his loss. There was a rumour that his body had been disturbed in the grave, which very much increased her grief. Indeed she was quite distracted with sorrow, and at times did not know what she said or did. She was a woman of very acute feelings, and was doatingly attached to her husband and children. She had suckled the deceased baby herself, and was passionately fond of him. She had often sat whole days since her husband’s death, weeping over the baby. She had often said she would kill herself, Before this time she had frequently said, laughing wildly, that the baby was dead and gone to heaven. On the 24th May she called to witness, and told her the baby was dead. She was then crying bitterly and wringing her hands. There was a small black mark on the left temple.

A Constable of Romford deposed that he saw the prisoner some time after the child was found dead. She was then violently beating her head, weeping and wringing her hands. She said, distractedly, “Hell! Hell, hell! I have murdered my baby. I meant the blow or myself, but it fell upon the baby. The beetle with which I did it stands behind the door. I have murder in my heart, and have carried a razor about me this fortnight.” She appeared quite wild and distracted.

Mr Curruthers, a surgeon, deposed that he examined the body often child. Its death was occasioned by a blow to the back of the head. It might have been with such an instrument as a beetle or mallet.

This was the case for the prosecution; upon which Mr Baron Graham intonated, that he thought it unnecessary to call upon the prisoner for her defence. It was quite obvious that poverty and grief had overpowered the better affections of the heart, and had bereft the prisoner of her reason. If the Jury were of this opinion, they would find the prisoner not guilty upon that ground.

The Jury immediately found the prisoner Not Guilty, on the ground that she was insane at the time she committed the fatal act.

The prisoner was then ordered to be detained in custody.”

The Cambridge Chronicle and Journal of 25 July 1823 carries and almost identical report but adds that the child’s name was Thomas and the National Burial Index lists the burial of a Thomas Palmer in Romford on 27 May 1823.

Burning some midnight oil we found more entries in the online indexes to Essex parish registers, including the burial of a Joseph Palmer on 13 March 1823 ‘of Dagenham’ at Stapleford Abbotts. There are baptisms of several children of Joseph and Ann. Some of the children seem to have been baptised more than once, including in January 1824, in Dagenham, which seems odd, as Joseph would have been dead by then. The Dagenham baptisms do state that Joseph was a publican.

Next step, to persuade the member of our group who lives closest to take a look at the original records.

No appropriate image, so some flowers for Ann and her family.

Sources

Cambridge Chronicle and Journal 25 July 1823 p. 4 col. c.

Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser 21 of July 1823 p. 4 col. a.

Online indexes to Essex parish registers via www.findmypast.co.uk

The Criminal Lunatic Asylum Registers at The National Archives HO20/13, accessed via www.ancestry.co.uk