From Acorn to Oak

By Mary Grover

Sheffield children owe a great deal to a woodcutter called John Eadon.  He had five study sons who worked with him and each son might have spent the rest of his days being a ‘woodman of renown’ had not the men taken shelter from unusually heavy rain at an inn in the Ecclesfield area in the mid eighteenth century.  This is how the story in the inn unfolded, according to Robert Leader, in his Reminiscences of old Sheffield, its streets and its people, edited by Robert Eadon Leader and printed in 1875:

Whilst drinking the “nut-brown ale” many were the topics of conversation. Some talked about themselves, others about their children – how clever Susan was, and what a sharp chap Tommy was; and as for Bill, the village schoolmaster had never had his like.  Every man appeared to have a clever lad in some way or other; but old Ayton (Eden, now Eadon) heard all this with a sorrowful heart, and at length, breaking silence, he said, “See,'” pointing his finger, “there is a thickhead, that lad of mine is nineteen years of age and he does not know A from B.”  This was enough.  The shame of being exposed in public company, and by his father, too, raised the pride and kindled a spark in that young man’s breast which never went out till the spirit left his body.  Whilst he sat in that room abashed amid his compeers, he determined that he would know not only A from B, but something more.  He began next day, brought a penny primer, found out an old woman who knew the letters – these he soon mastered – made out little words, and soon he laid the foundation of all knowledge – the acquirement of the art of reading.  He found someone to assist him in the art of arithmetic; and in this way his leisure time was spent, till he began to think he knew more than most people about him.

At this juncture the mastership of the Free Writing School became vacant.  He offered himself and was elected, and held the post till his death.  From the time of his publishing the ‘Arithmetician’s Guide,’ in 1756, to his death in 1810, would make his tutorship of that school fifty years, at least.

John Eadon

You can read more about the contribution of the Eadon family to schooling in our city if you download Reminiscences.  The Arithmetician’s Guide mentioned by Leader, which you can see here, seems to have been a handbook to help teachers teach arithmetic.  It contains all sorts of mnemonics and rhymes to help pupils remember arithmetical principles.

The Free Writing School was one of a number of schools founded and supported by grants from the Church Burgesses Trust, still very active today.  The Trust was founded in the reign of Mary Tudor who was successfully petitioned by the citizens of Sheffield for the revenue of the Parish Church and other Church lands that had been confiscated by Edward VI following his father’s dissolution of the monasteries.  Despite its name, the school aimed chiefly to train boys in mathematics and John Eadon was obviously devoted to this task and became a very well-read man. He also became grandfather to one of Sheffield’s most distinguished literary figures, Samuel Bailey, the poet, philosopher and radical liberal who was widely known as the ‘Bentham of Hallamshire’.  So John Eadon’s father’s cruel jibe at the expense of his son not only produced a fine teacher, but also helped establish a dynasty which was vital to Sheffield cultural life in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

‘Destroyed by the war…’

This month has seen international commemorations of the Battle of the Somme, which resulted in over a million men being killed or wounded.  Even with this anniversary to remind us, World War One is very distant now.  But in the years immediately following it, the Great War was of course still very much in people’s minds.  Gradually over the 1920s, memoirs, novels, plays, poetry and official histories began to appear.

One of the best remembered today is All Quiet on the Western Front (1929) by Erich Maria Remarque*.  The novel, describing the experiences of German soldiers in Western Europe (where Remarque fought briefly as a conscript), attracted both great acclaim and criticism.  Millions of copies were sold and there were over 20 translations from the original German.  But the book was seen by some in Germany, including the Nazi Party which was then rising to power, as a condemnation of their war effort and even as a betrayal of the country itself.  In 1933, Goebbels banned Remarque’s books and had them publicly burned and Remarque left Germany to live in Switzerland.

Erich Maria Remarque (Bundesarchiv, Bild 102-10867 / CC-BY-SA via Wikimedia Commons

Erich Maria Remarque (Bundesarchiv, Bild 102-10867/CC-BY-SA via Wikimedia Commons

In November 1929, not long after the novel’s publication, Sheffield Public Libraries commented on All Quiet on the Western Front and war literature generally in its publication, Books & Readers.  The terms used are unusually strong for what was a free monthly bulletin listing new books and announcing library news:

 

Remarque’s “All Quiet on the Western Front,” of which there are sixty-five copies circulating in our libraries, has set a fashion in war books which is now being feverishly copied by writers and publishers.  “All Quiet” has been criticised in some quarters because of its frankness.  It has been said that however true the book may be of the German side, it is certainly not true of the British.  Anyone who saw the war at close quarters must realise that “All Quiet” suffers from the defect that all war books must share – the whole truth is too foul ever to appear in print.  J. L. Hodson’s “Grey Dawn, Red Night” describes the gradual moral, spiritual, and physical degradation that sapped away the humanity of a fine soul.  It deals with a war foreign to Bairnsfather and the war correspondents with a restrained yet devastating realism.  It is to the good of humanity and the coming generation that those who were stricken dumb for ten years by their war experiences can now write as truthfully as ordinary decencies will allow about them.  There is no surer encouragement for the efforts of Britain and America to make war unthinkable, than the realisation of what the four years meant to those who in the words of Remarque’s dedication of his book, “were destroyed by the war, though they may have escaped its shells.”

‘…the whole truth is too foul ever to appear in print,’ and the novel ‘deals with a war foreign to Bairnsfather and the war correspondents,’ says the unknown author.  This sounds like bitter experience talking.  No doubt men and women who worked in Sheffield’s libraries suffered and died because of the war, and after ten years the author felt that the truth could, or should, be faced.  The war correspondents dismissed here had perhaps massaged their reports to keep up morale or spare feelings; and the very popular ‘Old Bill’ cartoons of Bruce Bairnsfather were there to make people laugh.  That 65 copies of All Quiet were bought for the libraries in 1929 is an indication of the interest in the war, the need to reflect on it and perhaps to process it, as we might say today.  There are by the way a few copies of All Quiet available from Sheffield Libraries today, including one, in storage, which dates from 1929.  Perhaps the last of the original 65?

Old Bill (By Bruce Bairnsfather (http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11232) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Old Bill (By Bruce Bairnsfather [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

(There are no library copies of the other novel mentioned, J L Hodson’s Grey Dawn, Red Night, also published in 1929.  Hodson was an English journalist who fought in the war and dedicated his novel to the people who went to France with him, but did not return.  Why Remarque’s book survives and Hodson’s does not is not clear.  Perhaps All Quiet is simply a better book, or perhaps the Nazis’ treatment of it ironically ensured its survival.)

Today’s reader is of course conscious that, just ten years after this Books & Readers was published and only 21 years after the war to end all wars, World War Two broke out.  The League of Nations – presumably what the author had in mind when writing ‘the efforts of Britain and America to make war unthinkable’ – had failed.

 

* The novel was one of those read by Reading Sheffield interviewee Sir Norman Adsetts before he went to university. Here is his reading journey.

Reading Sheffield research: The fiction policy of an English public library in the 1930s

Just posted in our Research section, a slightly edited version of a paper given by Reading Sheffield team member Val Hewson at The Auden Generation and After conference, Sheffield Hallam University, 17 June 2016

‘Even Edgar Wallace may be discovered’: The fiction policy of an English public library in the 1930s