Mudlarks, Then and Now

Before I get started, a couple of personal announcements are in order. First of all, I’m delighted to be back. Last fall, my somewhat uneven health took a bit of a turn for the worse. Regina, the leader of our blog, was kind enough to grant me a more-or-less open-ended leave of absence. I did not expect to be back quite this soon, but I have found myself feeling a great deal better, with strength and the ability to concentrate returning in good measure. It’s good to be back. Second, I’m happy to share that I’ve liberated my fourth novel from the constraints that seemed to be holding it back. The Mudlark: Darcy’s Story is progressing at a good rate, much to my satisfaction. If you attend the “Jane Austen Fan Fiction Works in Progress” presentation tomorrow (January 10), you can expect a reading from me of one of the latest chapters.

A mudlark is someone who searches the shores of the River Thames or other rivers and seashores, in search of whatever of interest may be found. The term dates back to the early Eighteenth Century, though no one knows how it originated. Historically, mudlarks were among the poorest of the poor, combing the beaches and shorelines of the river in search of items that might be sold to bring in a coin or two. These objects might have included lumps of coal, articles which had fallen from boats, scraps of metal, things thrown away, or pieces of cargo lost in wrecks or around the docks. Anything that could be salvaged was fair game. There is a story of a woman in the early Nineteenth Century who seems to have made her living salvaging lumps of coal. She filled her apron every day, and the coal could be sold for money. 

There are still mudlarks in these modern times, and Lara Maiklem has been one for many years. I am in process of reading her book, Mudlark: In Search of London’s Past Along the River Thames. Part technical treatise, part history review, and part personal memoir, this book is a wonderful introduction to the whole concept of mudlarking. Ms. Maiklem is also the author of numerous other books and print articles, has been the guest of many interviews, operates a Facebook group (London Mudlark: Lara Maiklem Mudlarking), and maintains a very informative website at https://www.laramaiklem.com. I turned to her first when I began researching this topic in earnest, and I soon found myself lost in her narratives. 

Aside from some introductory and concluding matter, the main portion of the book is divided into chapters based on areas where mudlarking was traditionally conducting, ranging from the tidal head (beginning of the stretch of the river that is influenced by the tides, upstream) to the Estuary, the area where the river empties into the sea. The tides were and are of utmost importance not only to mudlarks but to shipping, commerce, industry, and defence. Each cycle takes roughly six hours, and they are influenced by the bends in the river and by the many man-made interventions and constructions. Ms. Maiklem has chosen some areas that we have all heard of, such as London Bridge, Vauxhall, and the Tower. Other areas may not be as well known to those of us who are not as well versed. For example, I was not familiar with the tidal head, a pleasant country area around Richmond and Twickenham where the river nearly disappears in the summer. 

What sorts of things are found in the river? This one is hard to answer, and the temptation is to reply, “Anything and everything.” It would not be too far from correct. The area around London has been inhabited by human beings since before the dawn of history. The city itself was founded by the Romans based on those three principles of real estate: Location, location, and location. It was perfect for transportation of people—especially soldiers—and goods, accessible to the rest of the British Isles, and within striking distance of Europe or of ports within easy reach of Europe. There were already people living there, though that did not traditionally matter to the Romans. The city held on and grew through successive invasions (what my scholarly mother called “The Angles, the Saxons, the Jutes, and the Danes . . .) eventually becoming a center of culture, manufacturing, business, and trade. 

So, in answer to “what sorts of things are found,” for now I will answer with some of my favorites:

• Money, of course. Coins are found ranging from those bearing the likeness of the late Queen Elizabeth II, all the way back to those featuring various Roman emperors. The Tudor and early modern eras are well represented as are foreign countries all over the world. Lost from thousands of pockets or perhaps thrown in to support thousands of wishes, coins are well represented. An interesting sideline is tradesmen’s tokens used as a sort of replacement for small change and valid in small areas of the city.
• Pins. Plain, ordinary common pins were not made by machine until the mid-Victorian era. Before that they were fabricated by hand. They are found almost  wherever you look in the waters of the Thames. It is possible, with an expert’s eye, to pinpoint when a pin was made by looking at how it was manufactured. There are a number of people who specialize in pins as their object for collection, and the variety and size seems staggering to me. But when you think about it, from kings to commoners, everyone’s clothes required at least a few pins—and they were required for thousands of years. They all had to go somewhere. 
• But what about needles? Needles are an entirely different story. While pins are made mostly of brass, needles are made from steel. They are traditionally rare, therefore valuable. Housewives, tailors, and seamstresses prized and hoarded them. Fewer were made, and fewer were lost to be found later. 
• Shoes. Shoes, like many other objects, were either lost or thrown away in the river. Unfortunately, they require a great deal of care when they are brought out of the water, lest they turn to mush. The author of our book tells the story of finding a shoe that had belonged to a little child during the Middle Ages. The four or five-year-old had worn a hole in the shoe as well as placing a number of creases and the engaging print of a small foot. Ms. Maiklem very wisely left the shoe in the soggy rag she had brought it home in and placed the whole thing, well wrapped, in her kitchen freezer. Some years later, she was able to find a conservationist who was able to restore the shoe. Because no museum was interested in it, it has become a prized item in her personal collection. 
• Pottery. The Romans threw away broken crockery, ceramic components of their plumbing and heating systems, fractured roof tiles, and what we might consider to be priceless Etruscan urns and vases. A great deal of their everyday earthenware includes the name of the artisan who created it and oftentimes his fingerprints as well. The author does a fine job of conveying the feeling of placing one’s own hand in a fingerprint left 2,000-odd years ago and of knowing the name of the worker who left it there. As with shoes and pins, it brings home the fact that we have more in common with the people of the past than we sometimes realize. My other favorite descriptions of pottery are of German ceramic jugs of the early modern period. These are known as Bellarmine or Bartmann (bearded man) jugs, and each jug has the representation of an angry-looking cranky old man drawn into its neck near the handle. Crockery from every era from ancient to yesterday, is found just about everywhere along the Thames. 

These are only a few of the items brought to light along the river. I have completely neglected clay pipes, which are found whole and in pieces, all along the foreshores, by the thousands, or perhaps the millions. Another amazing find is garnets. All are uncut, some are of industrial quality, others are of gem quality. Those who find the garnets are a bit reluctant to disclose where they were found, and the result is much speculation. I believe the prevailing opinion is that there was a shipwreck at some point, leaving the stones to be rescued and salvaged. 

I’ll have lots more to discuss in the next couple of months, including ways that the River Thames reflects some of the great events which have happened on its banks. I also hope to examine the important role that modern mudlarks play in exploring and preserving the London—or the many Londons—of the past. I realize that this is 

Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you next month. I also hope to see some of you this coming Saturday.