Our Aims

Our Club's aims are to:

Learn collaboratively about the history, heritage and archaeology of Norwich and Norfolk

Develop resources and activities that contribute to the wider community’s understanding of history and archaeology

Develop activities that enhance/maintain the wellbeing and emotional resilience of club members

Be actively inclusive – open, accessible and welcoming to all


Thursday, 14 February 2013

HEART Heritage Newsletter



Learn about heritage-related projects and events in the latest issue of the HEART e-newsletter, below:

HEART News

Wednesday, 13 February 2013

'History Down the Drain' Professor Carole Rawcliffe - 12th February

Professor Rawcliffe

In another well attended session, members of the Norwich Community History Club were delighted to welcome Carole Rawcliffe, professor of medieval history at UEA, to talk to us today. Her presentation was entitled, 'History Down the Drain - A New Look at Public Health in Medieval Norwich'. This 'new look' began with a critical examination of the widespread claims made by nineteenth century writers and historians that, compared to their 'enlightened' contemporary city, medieval Norwich was filthy with no regard for hygiene or public health. 

This viewpoint - still powerful in popular culture to this day (see HERE for instance) - was informed by a particular way of interpreting the past; an historical narrative that portrays one's present as being the culmination of inexorable progress from dirtier, 'darker', less enlightened times. However, challenging this perspective, Professor Rawcliffe made it clear that there is ample evidence from the mid-nineteenth century that public health facilities themselves were wholly inadequate - with the city's water supply being particularly bad:
"bad in quantity, bad in quality and bad in everything that should constitute a water supply" (William Lee, a government health inspector, visiting the city in May 1850). 

Having established that the public health of Victorian Norwich left much to be desired, she then proceeded to challenge and deconstruct the narrative of inexorable progress, using hitherto neglected evidence from the medieval city's archives (supported by archaeological discoveries). For instance, having examined local Norwich court records she was able to point to numerous complaints about dumping waste, leaving rubbish in the streets and the pollution of water sources - interpreting them, not as evidence of environmental neglect, but as transgressions (expressions of widespread concern for public health, held by, both, those lodging the complaints and the authorities who deemed them worthy of a formal hearing). 

Furthermore, there were numerous regulations and sanctions available to the medieval authorities against, for instance, those selling rotten meat. Professor Rawcliffe described how such people might be placed in the pillory in the marketplace and made to inhale the fumes from their spoiled goods (a 'miasma' thought, at the time, to transmit disease). Wryly, she offered a very current reference, suggesting that purveyors of horse meat mis-sold as beef might benefit from such corrective punishment. 

The 'horrible history' stereotype of medieval Norwich is further challenged by evidence that the civic authorities - informed by the work of ancient physicians like Hippocrates and Galen - ordered the relocation of the city's more potentially 'dirty'/polluting trades, such as butchery, to areas outside the city centre. Dating from as early as 1250, this 'zoning' predates that of more heralded examples, such as in Sienna in Italy, by some two hundred years. 

Professor Rawcliffe also argued that many of the medieval public health measures depended on public cooperation, but that this was more prevalent in pre-Reformation England where civic pride in cleanliness conjoined with a religious duty to provide for the benefit of the wider community. Even if this charitable impulse was based, in part, on a spiritual investment in speeding the progress of one's soul through the torments of purgatory, the outcome for the city's public health, she argues, were beneficial. 

Overall, we were presented with a persuasive argument that, although far from perfect, the medieval city was in many ways a healthier place than the later Victorian city. In part, the previous stereotypes persisted in the absence of serious research into this area. As historians begin to critically examine the archives for evidence of medieval urban health measures, the hitherto skewed picture of the past is being re-calibrated. 

Speaking to those present afterwards, there was overwhelming gratitude that Professor Rawcliffe was prepared to take the time to come and share her scholarship with us in such an accessible and entertaining way. 

Thank you Carole!

Wednesday, 6 February 2013

Face to Face With The Past

There is something poignant about looking at a photo of an unknown person. Especially when the photo was taken over 150 years ago. Who was this person? What was their life like? What were they thinking as they stared at the camera and tried to keep still for the sixty seconds it took to fix their image?

On Tuesday 22nd January, members of the Norfolk Community History Club were shown a small sample from Picture Norfolk’s collection of thousands of old photographs, albums and scrapbooks. Clare Everitt, the administrator from Picture Norfolk, had selected some photos taken starting from around 1842, when an enterprising fellow named Thomas Damant Eaton started applying the new technology to scenes around Norwich, as well as his family members. Slightly misty ladies in bonnets and serious gentlemen in stovepipe hats along with views of Norwich, which brought home how many of the old city’s fine Elizabethan and Stuart buildings were still standing in the 19th century. We tried to work out where the camera was placed and what had changed: the Cathedral front not at all, unsurprisingly, but in some shots of Theatre Street from St Stephens, only the church tower was recognisable.

Then there was the Acle whitesmith called William Henry Finch (who “claimed to be Eugenia Fynch” – a mystery which Clare did not go into further) who took photos around Norfolk between 1860 and 1880. He was able to persuade tradesmen and labourers to stop what they were doing and pose for the photos – quite unusual, Clare explained, to find so many photographs of working people from that date.

As photography became more widespread, it was the fashion to collect ‘Cartes des visites’ – small prints of royalty, celebrities, famous preachers and relatives. The collectible snaps of Queen Victoria, Albert, Princes and Princesses at the front of the heavy mid-Victorian album Clare passed around were not labeled, while later pages had pictures marked in copperplate hand ‘Grandfather’ (splendid fellow with white muttonchop whiskers), ‘Mother’, ‘Aunt Jane’ and so on. I suppose that’s because everyone would recognise the royals without having to be told. Clare explained that the photographic fixing process used albumen from egg whites, and the cards grew so popular that there was a massive boom in poultry farming.

Finally a beautiful scrapbook went the rounds, full of elaborate greetings cards, rebuses and colourful scraps, daintily cut out and looking brand new and very Laura Ashley. They were collected by a Gladys Robinson, who must have had a steady hand, in the first years of the 20th century.

Most of the 200,000 images in Picture Norfolk archives have been donated by members of the public, Clare explained. Unfortunately, much more is offered than they can house, but anything of real local interest which is not already duplicated in the archives would certainly be considered, and it’s possible to digitize the image and return the original to the owners.

Many thanks to Clare and Colin for such an interesting meeting. 

~ Sarah Walker ~

Please note: 17,000 photograph from the archive are available via the Picture Norfolk website