The Yorkshire of The Crowded Street
1 = Kingsport (Kingston upon Hull)
1a = Marshington (Cottingham)
2 = Scarborough
3 = Area where Connie's farm might be.
The Crowded Street
The novel opens by recreating the pre-1914-18 middle class world of tennis clubs, dinner parties and dances in the commuter village of 'Marshington'. It is world dominated by what the book's leading feminist Delia Vaughan characterises as 'sex success' (The Crowded Street, London, Virago, 1981, Book 1.13, p 88). From a woman's point of view this means securing a socially acceptable husband, not exploring her sexual feelings and powers of sexual attraction. Daisy Weathergay plays by the rules and has an acceptable 'sex success' that ends in a husband of her choice. Connie rebels by following her sexual inclinations and the looser morality obtaining during WWI, and risks scandal. The contrast might sound like a reassertion of Victorian morality with its grim distinction between fallen and unfallen women, were these the only possibilities mentioned in the book. In fact the life styles pursued by women range from the glamorous partying of Clare Duquesne, to the crusading of Delia Vaughan. None of these women are the book's heroine. Instead it is Muriel Hammond, who, initially, seems to lack any inclination or talent for independence.
The Holtby Home
'Marshington' is a thinly disguised version of Cottingham. Cottingham is a commuter village, to the north west of Hull, now virtually joined to Hull by the development of Hull University and the housing estates of New Village, Inglemire and New Land. It was a development Winifred predicted. She describes Hull as 'like a pool of mercury' that expands until it 'rolled together Marshington, Danes, Kepplethorpe and Swanfield' (The Crowded Street, p 25). Winifred's parents moved to Cottingham in 1919 after her father David retired from farming in the wake of the farm strike of 1918.
They lived here:
In Winifred's Day the house was called 'Bainesse'
Judging from the recent garages it has been converted to flats.
After the Holtby ownership, it was renamed 'Holtby House'
It was known as 'Holtby House' when it was used as a lodging house by the University of Hull.
Its most famous inhabitant was a disgruntled Philip Larkin, who moved out as soon as he could.
Despite the impression created by The Crowded Street, neither Winifred nor her mother was trapped by the suburbs. Winifred had left home in July 1917 to work in a London nursing home and went on to Somerville college in October to read Modern History. Unlike Vera Brittain she did not have to argue with her father to gain permission. In July 1918 she joined the Women's Army Auxiliary Corps (WAACS) and from 1919 to 1921 completed her Oxford degree, gaining a second class (Shaw, pps xi-xii). Her mother entered local politics, being elected onto the East Riding County Council in 1923, eventually rising to become the first female Alderman in the East Riding in 1934 (Shaw, p 12) To her embarrassment this made her appear the model for South Riding's Mrs Beddows.
Muriel and War
The position of Muriel is more typical. She has none of Winifred's ambition or academic ability. The war, which liberates her sister Connie's sexual appetites, confines Muriel to the traditional role of mother's helper and sister's comfort. Nevertheless she witnesses the arrival of a new world order first hand; she is in the Grand Hotel Scarborough, when it is shelled from the sea by elements of the German Grand fleet.
The Grand Hotel Scarborough: Sea Front
It is called the 'Superb Hotel' in Osbert Sitwell's Before the Bombardment.
The Grand Hotel: Shell Damage
This shell hit the floor at the base of the main block, just above the band of white-framed windows in the picture above.
Like Osbert Sitwell’s Before the Bombardment, The Crowded Street represents the shelling of the Grand Hotel, Scarborough, on December 16 1914, as a decisive break with the old world. Sitwell’s book ends with the impact of the bombardment, treating it as savage and tragic: ' for the next moment he too, was disintegrated' (Before the Bombardment, London, Duckworth, 1927, p 311). A new world in which ridiculous but helpless civilians will be deliberately targeted by armed forces has arrived. The pampered insularity of the monied classes of Scarborough has been suddenly eradicated. Their new world is a global arena in which the painful and the grotesque are commonplace: 'Dr Mac-Racket died of smallpox in Mesopotamia, and poor Mr. de Flouncey's only son was burnt to death in a falling aeroplane.' (Before the Bombardment, p 320)
Winifred places the shelling in Chapter 13, half way through not at the end of her book. The incident begins in fear and disbelief:
Crash! Crash! Crash!
It really had happened then.
It was not an illusion. She drew one hand across her forehead that felt damp and cold.
(The Crowded Street, p 119)
The noise of the shelling interrupts the regular paragraph layout as Muriel struggles to understand the noise she hears: 'Huge sounds, flat and ugly, dropped into the silence of the room.' (The Crowded Street, p 119).
Muriel, along with her mother, uncle and aunt and many inhabitants of Scarborough flee to Seamer, sensibly putting the hill of Oliver's Mount between them and the shelling. Significantly Muriel prefers this excitement, even with the chance of death, to her existence in Marshington: ''She wanted to die then, when life was simple, rather than face Marshington again and the artificial complications that entangled her life there.' (The Crowded Street, p 122). Elation turns to anti-climax and farce as her family finds themselves sheltering by a sign that says: '"Rubbish may be shot here." "Ha, ha!" laughed Uncle George. "They're shooting rubbish and no mistake."' (The Crowded Street, p 122)
The Seamer Road runs down this valley, seen from Oliver's Mount, past The Mere, the large pond between the trees.
The white band running diagonally along the floor of the valley is the roofs of the industrial buildings that have grown up alongside this road since the 1960s.
Scarborough is to the right, Seamer to the left
The soldiers, travelling in by lorry to meet a possible invasion, shout a music-hall slogan to the crowd and get the expected response: 'As they passed, some of them cheered the procession leaving the town and called, "Are we down-hearted?" And the refugees shouted "No!"' (The Crowded Street, p 123). Nevertheless Muriel not only glimpses the man she loves, Godfrey Neale, going, as they assume, into battle but also experiences an intimation of how the Great War will break the stranglehold of the suburbs. To maintain the air of absurdity and anti-climax, readers are given no casualty figures; The Crowded Street does not reveal that 18 people, all civilians, including women and children, had been killed in Scarborough or that the shelling of Whitby and Hartlepool brought the total to 135 killed and over 500 injured.
(Mark Marsay, Bombardment! The Day the East Coast Bled, Scarborough, Great Northern Publishing, 1999)
Winifred was in Scarborough attending Queen Margaret's School when the raid occurred, and wrote an account that was published in The Bridlington Chronicle (Shaw, p 28). The complete text is in Marsay (pps 275-281) but the extracts reprinted in Jenni Swales Yorkshire Post article show how distinctively the incident has been fictionalised in The Crowded Street.
http://www.yorkshirepost.co.uk/yorkshire-living/arts/books/remembering-a-dark-day-of-youth-1-6602462
Winfred reports the incident as if taking place at distance and, unlike Muriel, she depicts herself as a detached and intelligent observer:
'Over the town hung a mantle of heavy smoke, yellow, unreal, which made the place look like a dream city, far, far, away… I heard the roar of a gun and in the next instant there was a crash, and a thick cloud of smoke enveloped one of the houses…'
Another extract shows a panic and selfishness amongst the refugees at Seamer that is unlike The Crowded Street:
“I saw one great brute, young and strong, mounted on a cart horse, striking it with a heavy whip, tearing at full gallop down the road, caring nothing for the women and children who scrambled piteously out of his path, with the fear of death in his craven face…'
A third extract shows a strain of social criticism:
'Then with a warning honk! honk! a splendid car swept by with one occupant – a woman wrapped in costly furs, alone in that great car, yet she would not stop to take up one of the poor old women who staggered on weary to death, yet fleeing for their lives.”
These critical observations are the more surprising in that Alice Holtby reprinted the article to be sold to raise funds for the Red Cross (Shaw, p 28).
More significantly they establish the distance between Wilfred and Muriel. Winifred grew up in a family that encouraged her intelligence and observation; Muriel is encouraged to live life in a subdued state that even shellfire can hardly stir.
The Attack on Scarborough
The German Navy mounted raids on the English coast in the first few months of war. These had several objectives:
The wish to lure small sections of the British fleet into waters where they could be attacked by a superior force of German ships.
The determination to show that the British Isles were no longer invulnerable.
The use of terror. Rear Admiral von Kirchoff wrote approvingly that the raid inflicted 'material damage' 'mainly on the civilian population' and 'caused great horror' (Marsay, p 156)
The targeting of civilians as part of a 'total war' (see Alan Kramer Dynamic of Destruction: Culture and Mass Killing in the First World War, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2007).
The first raid on Great Yarmouth in November 3 1914 saw shells land on Yarmouth beach, causing no civilian casualties:
http://www.gorlestonhistory.org.uk/worldwars/germanbombardment.phpl:
The raid of December 16th 1914 on the east coast of Yorkshire was more serious.
SMS Derfflinger emerging from mist to attack Scarborough.
0730 12.16.1914
Despite German claims to the contrary, neither Scarborough or Whitby was a defended site or a military target. Hartlepool, which suffered the heaviest casualties, was both. Scarborough and Whitby were attacked by the battle-cruisers Derrflinger, Von Der Tann, and Kolberg, Hartlepool by the Seyditz, Molke and Blucher. The raiders sailed in at dawn through a light mist and opened the attack at 0800, shelling the town with their smaller six inch guns until 0930, when they turned north to attack Whitby.
Scarborough Harbour in mist, seen from Oliver's Mount.
Neither Scarborough nor Whitby could reply to the German guns. All the military authorities could do was bring in troops in case a land incursion followed the shelling. Hartlepool was defended but severely outgunned. The Seyditz, Molke and Blucher mounted, respectively 11 x 12", 10 x 11" and 12 x 8.2" heavy guns (Warships of World War I, H. M. Le Fleming, London, Ian Allan, 1967, p 57/ p 119). Hartlepool was defended by 1 x 6" gun in the Lighthouse Battery and 2 x 6" guns in the Heugh Battery. (Marsay, pps 367-9); each of the German ships had at least 8 equivalent guns as a secondary armament. During the 50 minute exchange of fire 1,150 shells were recorded, 123 being fired by the shore guns. (Marsay, p14). It rapidly became apparent that the six inch shells had no effect on the 12" armour carried by the German battle cruisers, so the batteries aimed at the superstructure of the ships. This tactic caused enough damage to the Blucher's superstructure to make her nearly run aground trying to evade fire. http://www.heughbattery.com/bombardment.html Fortunately for Hartlepool, many German shells went over the town, but there were 102 casualties, including women and 15 children. 7 sailors and 7 soldiers were also killed.
http://www.heughbattery.com/bombardment.html
Heugh Battery (Pronounced 'Yuff' ) in 2005, before restoration as a museum.
At the time of the attack it was camouflaged, which helped prevent any direct hits.
Heugh Battery
Hartlepool War Memorial
The memorial stands amidst houses in Hartlepool Old Town, many of which were hit during the raid.
The memorial in Scarborough was built on Oliver's Mount in the form of an obelisk:
Scarborough War Memorial
On the side facing the road are metal tablets recording the names of the dead:
Scarborough folk killed during WWI
The 'Civilians' section
The red dots are memorial poppies tucked into the frame.
The list of names is divided into three columns of 'Navy, Army, Air Force' with the fourth panel (on the right) being dedicated to 'Civilians' . the 'Civilians' section is sub-divided into headings: 'Bombardment 1914 and 1917, Men, women, children', 'At Sea' and 'V.A.D.s'. These initials stood for Voluntary Aid Detachment. These were women who volunteered to be unpaid nurses. Vera Brittain worked as a VAD on the Western Front. Because of her knowledge of German, she treated many injured prisoners. (Testament of Youth, London, Victor Gollancz, 1933)
The bombardment of 1917 mentioned on the memorial refers to an attack by a German submarine that fired on minesweepers in the town's harbour on September 4th 1917. Some of the thirty shots fired overshot and hit the town, klling three people, two civilians and one solider and wounding six others.
http://www.scarboroughsmaritimeheritage.org.uk/asubmarine1917.php
Muriel and Peace
It is typical of Muriel's passivity that she does not inquire about casualties in Scarborough or mention the continuation of the raid on Whitby or the simultaneous attack on Hartlepool. Instead it becomes part of her conviction: 'Her hour had come and passed' (The Crowded Street, p 125). By contrast Winifred's experience of the atrocities of war moved her from the simple patriotism of her Bridlington Chronicle pamphlet to campaigning alongside Vera Brittain for the League of Nations and international peace .
The character in The Crowded Street who embodies Winifred and Veras' feminist, pacifist and socialist ideals is Delia Vaughan. Like Vera, she looses the man she loved in the war. In keeping with the anti-heroic tone of The Crowded Street he is killed in an accident, not at the Front, still less in a heroic action. Delia reports the incident as one of triviality not tragedy: 'Knocked down by a motor-lorry in Amiens station. Just the sort of idiotic thing that he would let happen to him.' ( The Crowded Street, p 142). Her grief is expressed as anger that the pacifist Martin went to war at all: 'He hated the war' ( The Crowded Street, p 142). Though Delia shares some of Vera's experiences and views, the most direct manifestation of Vera's influence is in the book's title, which is drawn from a poem of Vera's quoted opposite the 'contents' page. Muriel echoes Vera's words when she analyses herself, and women like her, in front of Delia in Chapter 35: 'we find ourselves left alone in a dull crowded street' (The Crowded Street, p 232). The incident serves as a paradigm for the book. The Crowded Street is not autobiography or confessional literature; it is a text that attempts to help women understand the post-war world and the conditions in which they have to find themselves new roles and new identities outside 'sex success'.
Muriel agrees to become, what would nowadays be called Delia's PA. Unlike the collaborative partnership of Vera and Winifred, Muriel offers practical, not intellectual support. Though she has no conscious ideological transformation, Muriel subconsciously realises that the pre-war world will not return. This puts her at odds with Marshington and she can only renew herself by leaving and going to London, replacing the confinement of the suburbs and local gossip with the space of a capital city and engagement with the ideologies of the day.
The Fete at Were Grange
The break is made clear by the last two chapters of the book. Chapter 38 opens with the words: 'Marshington was triumphant', as a fete is held in the grounds of Godfrey Neale's stately home, Weare Grange (The Crowded Street, p 258). The scene is carefully contrived and Winfred draws attention to 'the symbolism of this fete today [my emphasis]' (The Crowded Street, Chap 38, p 258). The most prestigious stately home surviving in the Cottingham region is Southwood Hall, a medium sized late seventeenth century house restyled by the Georgians, but this is not impressive enough for Winifred's purpose. [http://www.gsey.org.uk/place/665/southwood-hall-cottingham-east-yorkshire].
Weare Grange is a much grander house with more extensive grounds that is placed in such a position that Godfrey can be 'squire of Weare and Marshington' (The Crowded Street, Chap 38, p 258). The grandeur of squire and setting is used to expose the atavistic respect for social hierarchy that pervades and blinkers the inhabitants of Marshington. To avoid being sucked back into the marsh of Marshington, Muriel has to reject romance, her family, and the fete's 'charming atmosphere' (The Crowded Street, Chap 38, p 263) and return to London. Simultaneously the book declares itself independent of the Jane Austen tradition. The Crowded Street, like The Land of Green Ginger, will not end with a reconciliation between love and property or independence and marriage. More positively than The Land of Green Ginger, The Crowded Street entertains ideas of happiness without 'sex success', of income without marriage and purpose without subordination. In both books, however, the only chance of such a life is to be found outside feudal Yorkshire.
Sledmere
The significance of Winifred's radical ending can be experienced by visiting Sledmere, the country estate close to Rudston (see Anderby Wold page). The house itself has the grand terraces and gardens that characterise Weare Grange. More important is the monument close to the Wagoner's Memorial, discussed in the Anderby Wold pages. One of the Sykes follies constructed to aestheticise and appropriate the landscape was an Eleanor Cross, a nineteenth century imitation of the memorials built by Edward I to his wife Eleanor. Unlike the Tatton Sykes Monument, this stands near the main entrance to the house and its grounds on the B1253. After 1918 , it was turned into a war memorial to commemorate men of the estate who had died in WWI by adding memorial brasses.
Eleanor Cross: Sledmere
The brasses are visible above the steps.
From a distance these look like medieval commemorative brasses but looked at more closely the figures are wearing the gear of the British army in WWI.
The illusion is sustained most convincingly by this bronze. It takes a careful appraisal to realise that the figure on the left is wearing a British WWI steel helmet and what appears to be a robe is a parted great coat. The inscription records that this is David Scott who ‘gave his life for his King, his Country and the liberty of Mankind in Flanders in November 1916’. The figure on the right is wearing a knitted balaclava helmet, not a mail coif; the quilted tunic he wears is not a medieval Jack (small plates of steel sewn into a padded jacket) but a representation of the goatskin and similar jackets worn by soldiers in winter and it is a rifle, not a bow, slung over his left shoulder.
Sledmere Memorial Bronze 1
Though damaged, this panel looks even more medieval, repeating the visual/tactile pun of mail-coif and balaclava-helmet, surcoat and trenchcoat and having a Latin inscription underneath: 'Haec est vera Fraternitas quae vincit mundi crimina': roughly, 'Here is true brotherhood that defeats the crimes of the world'.
Sledmere Memorial Bronze 2
The viewers are made to see the dead of Sledmere as crusaders fighting to preserve a time-honoured tradition of dedication and service that has existed since the Middle Ages. The implication is that the old order has been vindicated, not shattered by The Great War and that the men of Sledmere estate were as happy to serve their lords as their medieval ancestors. The villagers of Marshington are certainly keen to convince themselves this is true but Winfred's tone is carefully detached, ironic and questioning: 'The British Legion, linking up village with village and class with class in memory of a glorious army, was not this a noble thing?' (The Crowded Street, Chap 38, p 258). The syntax imitates Latinate self-importance with the phrase 'was not this' but comes to rest on the clumsy, imprecise word 'thing'. 'Thing' repeats and amplifies the vagueness of the word 'things' that has introduced the paragraph, the: 'promise of good things to come' (The Crowded Street, Chap 38, p 258). As the paragraph continues it becomes evident that the villagers can only hope for 'good things to come' if they ignore that 'Trade was bad' and 'Unemployment was disquieting' (The Crowded Street, Chap 38, p 258). Winfred's last book, South Riding, mercilessly exposes the bad trade, and the disquieting unemployment that dominated Holderness during the precarious peace that followed 'The War to End Wars' and the inability of feudal Yorkshire, in the form of Carne, to comprehend or cope with this new world.
Memories of War
The first intimation in The Crowded Street of the disasters of war comes from an old woman remembering the Boer War on the day World War I is declared:
'War's bloody hell, ' she remarked mildly. 'Ah'm telling you God's truth. Two o' my lads went i' South Aftrica. Bloody hell. That's what it is.'
(The Crowded Street, Chap 16, p 112).
The official memorials of Hull echo this insight. The abstract memorial to the dead of the World Wars stands behind the figurative monument to the Boer War:
Hull: the monument to The Boer War Hull: the monument for the Great War.
Part of the wall area of the World War As is customary the memorial now
memorial is visible behind. commemorates the dead of WWII as well.