Wittenberg University Journals

Cusick, Eric

English

The Doolittle Raids

Brady, Kristen

  Vol. XLVI, Spring 2017  •  11
In the decades after World War II, London experienced 
one of its most significant periods of social, economic, and 
structural regrowth since the reconstruction of the city 
after the fire of 1666.1 An “economic rejuvenation” brought 
increasingly more people into the city, and, along with 
them, the need for more efficient means of transportation 
and housing.2 London felt keenly the burgeoning thrusts 
of change within its bounds, but its growth could hardly 
be controlled, and much less contained. As it became 
progressively obvious that London’s design needed a 
reevaluation to bring it to the standards of its inhabitants  
(and in competitive comparison with other metropolises),  
the questions about how to do so arose. 
 Plans of revitalization sprung up in every direction: 
The County of London Plan, The Report of the Preliminary Draft 
Proposals for Post War Reconstruction in the City of London, The 
Greater London Plan. Collections of essays were published, 
such as London of the Future, which explored London’s 
utopian dreams from garden cities to high rises. London 
societies and government organizations found themselves at 
no shortage of ideas, but initially failed to provide the public 
with details, information, and opportunities to voice their 
opinions.3 This led to a retaliation though media, film, and 
literary outlets, allowing audiences a chance to hear what 
was happening in their city––and even take on an opinion. 
Rather quickly, the best method of revitalization became a 
question in political debates. On one side of the debate were 
engineers and government; on the other were intellectuals 
and the literati. A 1946 documentary called The Way We Live 
acknowledged in the introductory sequence that James Paton 
Watson and Professor Patrick Abercrombie might either be 
John Betjeman’s “Baker Street Station 
Buffett:” The Influence of an Architectural 
Literati in the fight Against Modern  
City Planning
Kristen Brady
“the heroes or villains [of the restructuring in Plymouth], 
according to your point of view.”4 This exemplifies that, 
no matter the efforts to create a unified plan for London, 
contention was inevitable. While there were numerous 
personages pitting their soapboxes against the “destructive 
plans,” the most well executed and informative are the works 
of Sir John Betjeman. His piece entitled “Baker Street Station 
Buffet” both symbolizes and epitomizes the clash between 
architectural literati and the modern visions of city planners. 
 Hailing from Highgate, London, Betjeman proved 
himself to be a self-made phenomenon after making 
contributions to film, architecture, and poetry without 
ever receiving his degree, although he studied at both 
Marlborough College and Oxford.5 His writings were 
highly regarded and successful, earning himself the title 
of Poet Laureate as well as a knighthood. His publications 
are extensive, ranging from prose in Ghastly Good Taste to 
poignant verse in A Few Late Chrysanthemums, the anthology 
in which “Baker Street Station Buffet” was published. 
Moving from his literary success, he also found radio 
broadcasts, film, and television to be beneficial platforms for 
his opinions. It was his innovative filmmaking techniques 
in pieces such as Metroland that allowed him wider access 
to London and ultimately helped popularize his criticisms 
on modern city planning. Mark Tewder-Jones claimed that 
Betjeman’s bold opinions acted as an alternative to those of 
professional city planners, arguing that his criticisms became 
truly political: 
 Betjeman turned many of his television broadcasts 
into propaganda statements against those issues he perceived 
as threatening Britain and against those in charge of 
12  •  The Wittenberg History Journal
restructuring the state. He used film to juxtapose the official 
expertise from the planners and government, a particular film 
style of the period, with his own perspectives that he   
genuinely believed to be the ‘voice of the people’.6
 
 Whether or not he wished to get involved in the 
politics of city planning (and it seems as though he did), 
Betjeman and his works themselves became patrons and 
symbols of many organizations fighting for the restoration, 
rehabilitation, and prevention of destruction of Georgian, 
Regency, Victorian, and Edwardian history and architecture. 
In a tribute upon his death, the Thirties Society published a 
piece in their journal about the loss of an ally who fought 
alongside them against the “destruction or vulgarization” 
of historic buildings.7 They described him as a “friend of 
the unfashionable and wrongfully rejected.”8 Although 
perhaps exaggerated, their description was not necessarily 
incorrect. With the rise of modern architecture, electricity, 
railways, and motorcars, the fight against progression was 
not in concordance with what many of his contemporaries 
believed.  
 Published in 1954, A Few Late Chrysanthemums 
contains several pieces of verse, which express his sentiments 
of love for the countryside, and disdain for the city planning 
which encroaches upon its tranquility. Poems such as “Baker 
Street Station Buffet” and “The Dear Old Village,” though 
very clearly show Betjeman’s criticism, are far less harsh 
than some of his other pieces. In his film Bird’s Eye View, An 
Englishman’s Home several years later in 1969, he took on a 
heavily sarcastic tone. A piece of verse featured in the film 
begins with him openly mocking the city planning: “Oh, 
the planners did their best. Oh yes, they gave it all a lot of 
thought.”9 
 Although “Baker Street Station Buffet” resonates 
strongly with his critical themes, not all of the verses in A 
Few Late Chrysanthemums are architecturally or historically 
focused and thus still digestible for the average literary reader. 
As pointed out by Thomas Peter, Betjeman had an eye for 
detail that allowed him to create scenes based off the smallest 
of characteristics, like Baker Street’s old electrolier, whether 
his intention was to express it negatively or positively.10 The 
chopped trees and murmuring firs of Baker Street can be 
taken at face value for their simple nostalgia, but, when put 
into context of Betjeman’s involvement and other works;  
you can glean the politics of city planning through its  
“worn memorial.”
 “Baker Street Station Buffet” certainly memorializes 
the careful beauty and excitement of new electricity and 
progress and its sour slide into hostility. Betjeman sets the 
scene of likely an Edwardian Era individual whose parents 
lived in one of the small neighboring London country 
towns. The tone starts off lighthearted and wistful, describing 
the electrolier and its installation with “radiant hope.” Old 
fashioned streets lined with trees, stained-glass windmills, 
and pots of tea fill the first stanza, and the early electric 
feels distant as we follow a couple on a train into London, 
watching the villas and green slip away. What is portrayed to 
be a happy trip to food stalls at Farringdon and shopping on 
Oxford Street with its hydraulic lifts, which he even describes 
specifically as “safe,” swiftly changes tone in the last stanza. 
Although they met up “beneath the hearts of this electrolier” 
and return home via the first non-stop train to Willesden 
Green, the very first line of the next stanza is “Cancer has 
killed him. Heart is killing her.” Their loves and hopes have 
flurried away with their long-gone country villa, where now 
stands a theater with flashing lights. Betjeman deftly makes 
his readers feel the initial excitement and love for progress 
and modernity before revealing to them that its happy glow 
and rising opportunities are a ruse, and ultimately will lead 
to the destruction of their homes––leaving what once was 
exquisite and familiar as only worn memorials.
 A writer from the Thirties Society Journal emphasized 
that Betjeman’s reliability lay primarily within his 
“sympathetic understanding of inter-war suburbs and of 
the people who lived in them…he did more to engender a 
serious interest in the diversity and peculiarity of suburbia 
than any writer or historian.”11 His opinions may have been 
harsh on the occasion, but his ability to create prose and verse 
with the most seemingly negligible of details (“Of copper, 
beaten by Bromsgrove Guild.”) is identifiable and relatable to 
the public, allowing him to rally the community against the 
destruction of their communal history.
 As a symbol of the fight against modern city planning 
that bore its teeth into the rich history and countryside of 
London’s satellite cities, “Baker Street Station Buffet” is a 
poem that stood its ground in the larger political controversy. 
The desire to retain London’s history, in the eyes of much 
of the public, clashed with “the ascendancy of experts and 
professionals who, the people were constantly reminded, 
‘knew best’.”12 Betjeman became the spokesperson for the 
anxieties that London would be “leveled down”13 by the loss 
of its vast cultural styles and differences. Yet Betjeman was not 
the only man with concerns over what modernity meant for 
  Vol. XLVI, Spring 2017  •  13
London. Gilbert mentions that perhaps parts of the past are 
not worth preserving, but quotes Lord Crewe’s concern that 
this leveling of London would lead it to be “neither modern 
nor picturesque.”14 
 Attempts to keep up with other modern cities, such 
as Paris, Zemgulys has argued, spurred on the government 
to the demolition of some of London’s historical buildings.15 
Not only was Postwar London affecting the rest of Britain––
it has more than once been described as an octopus reaching 
out to strangle every settlement and city within its reach16––
but it had to keep up with the rest of the world and act as a 
center for international communications and economics, all 
the while accommodating to its growing size and culture. In 
a city that sprung forward both unregulated and unplanned, 
the process of retracing their steps to reorganize and plan 
the entire city was proving to be a challenge, especially with 
activists discovering the power of news and media outlets. It 
is impossible to say whether the destruction of history inside 
the city or the encroachment of London into the nearby 
suburbs was worse, but Betjeman addresses both with solemn 
respect and distress. Peter sets the scene quite accurately for 
Betjeman’s “The Dear Old Village” by pointing out that the 
quiet country towns were growing less and less quiet and 
increasingly more congested17 with citizens who had little 
desire for the country, but were being driven out from the 
city due to population, pricing, and slum removal. Many of 
his poems are set in these little intruded-upon settlements 
and exhibit his displeasure with what the blocks of concrete 
have done to the countryside. Even at the front of the war, in 
his poem “Slough,” he is severe in his condemnation:
 Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough! 
 It isn’t fit for humans now, 
 There isn’t grass to graze a cow.
 Swarm over, Death!18
 Betjeman’s works, both in literature and in 
filmography, have proved themselves to be vital to the study 
of 20th century London’s history. He manifests, for one 
of the first times in history, the important role televised 
and broadcasted journalism (in conjunction with poetry) 
played in the attempts of saving Britain’s history. Media 
gave the public a voice when the UK did very little to 
actually confer with Londoners,19 and Betjeman was one of 
the first personages to discover the power of “transposing 
prose and poetry into a filmic format.”20 His significance to 
London’s history has been recognized both in modern and 
contemporary times. When A Few Late Chrysanthemums 
was first published, his peers and contemporaries––even the 
ones that did not entirely agree with him––recognized his 
work in the underrepresented and under-appreciated. In a 
review when the anthology was first published, John Arlott 
acknowledged that: 
 He saved much from that output which our age had 
lumped together and dismissed as ugly or in a fashionable 
minority collected as comically odd. Indeed, for many a 
jettisoned Victorian artist and craftsman, he became a new 
voice of posterity, rediscovering and displaying neglected 
merits.21
“Baker Street Station Buffet” then offers a modern historian 
the unique perspective of an intellectual and architectural 
minority. In a time of copious publications for utopian 
London, high rises, and garden suburbs, Betjeman represented 
not only a minority, but the overall fears which accompany 
any amount of great change or reworking of a city. London 
was (and still is) progressing and changing structurally and 
culturally, and, in the words of Conway, “none of us can  
stop it.”22   
 While Betjeman may not have offered any real 
solutions to the problem of growth in London, he played 
the important role of reminding the organizations at the 
time that preserving history was necessary and healthy, all 
the while acting as an intermediary between the public and 
the government. In an era of “celebrated new architecture, 
improved housing conditions, faster transport and economic 
growth,” this architectural literati worked to ease the agitation 
felt on the traditional, old fashioned, and familiar ways of 
life.23 Without works like “Baker Street Station Buffet” to 
commemorate the past, some of it may have been lost.
Bibliography
Arlott, John. “A Few Late Chrysanthemums: Book Review.”    
   In The Spectator. Periodicals Archive Online, July 16, 1954. 
Betjeman, John. “Baker Street Station Buffet.” In A Few Late  
   Chrysanthemums. John Murray Publishers, 1954. 
Betjeman, John. Bird’s Eye View:  The Englishman’s Home.  
   Film. 1969. 
Betjeman, John. Speech reported in The Times. July 22, 1932. 
Betjeman. “Slough.” In Continual Dew. John Murray  
   Publishers, 1977. 
Craigie, Jill, director. The Way We Live. Film. Two Cities Films, 
   1946. 
Gilbert, David. “London of the Future: The Metropolis  
   Reimagined after the Great War.” In Journal of British  
   Studies Vol. 43, No. 1. Cambridge: Cambridge University  
   Press, January 2004. 
14  •  The Wittenberg History Journal
Mort, Frank. “Fantasies of Metropolitan Life: Planning  
   London in the 1940s.” In The Journal of British Studies Vol.  
   43, No. 1. Cambridge Online Press, 2012. 
Peter, Thomas. “John Bull Speaks: Reflections on ‘The  
   Collected Poems’ of John Betjeman.” In Western Humanities 
   Review VOl. 27, No. 3. Periodicals Archive Online, 1973. 
“Sir John Betjeman.” In The Thirties Society Journal No. 4.  
   The Twentieth Century Society, 1984. 
Tewder-Jones, Mark. “‘Oh, the planners did their best’: the  
   planning films of John Betjeman.” In Planning Perspectives  
   Vol. 20. London: Bartlett School of Planning. 
Endnotes
1  Frank Mort, “Fantasies of Metropolitan Life: 
Planning London in the 1940s,” in The Journal of 
British Studies Vol. 43, Issue 1 (Cambridge Online 
Press, 2012) 120.
2  Mark Tewder-Jones “‘Oh, the planners did their best’: 
the planning films of John Betjeman,” in Planning 
Perspectives Vol. 20 (London: Bartlett School of 
Planning, 2005), 393.
3  Tewder-Jones “‘Oh, the planners did their best’,” 390.
4  Jill Craigie, director., The Way We Live, Film (Two 
Cities Films, 1946).
5  Tewder-Jones, “‘Oh, the planners did their best’,” 396.
6   Tewder-Jones, “‘Oh, the planners did their best’,” 390.
7   “Sir John Betjeman,” in the Thirties Society Journal 
No. 4 (The Twentieth Century Society, 1984), 1.
8   “Sir John Betjeman,” 1.
9   John Betjeman, Bird’s Eye View: The Englishman’s 
Home, Film (1969).
10  Thomas Peter, “John Bull Speaks: Reflections on 
‘The Collected Poems’ of John Betjeman,” in Western 
Humanities Review Vol. 27, No. 3 (Periodicals 
Archive Online, 1973), 292.
11   “Sir John Betjeman,” 1.
12  Tewder-Jones, “‘Oh, the planners did their best’,” 394.
13  John Betjeman, reported in The Times, Speech (July 
22, 1932). Also referenced by Tewder-Jones in “‘Oh, 
the planners did their best’,” on page 397.
14  David Gilbert, “London of the Future: The 
Metropolis Reimagined after the Great War,” in 
Journal of British Studies Vol. 43, No. 1 (Cambridge: 
Cambridge University Press, January 2004), 112.
15   Gilbert, “London of the Future,” 111-2.
16   Mort, “Fantasies of Metropolitan Life,” 133.
17   Peter, “John Bull Speaks,” 294.
18   John Betjeman, “Slough,” in Continual Dew (John 
Murray Publishers, 1977).
19   Tewder-Jones, “‘Oh, the planners did their best’,” 
390.
20   Tewder-Jones, “‘Oh, the planners did their best’,” 
400.
21   John Arlott, “A Few Late Chrysanthemums: Book 
Review,” in The Spectator (Periodicals Archive 
Online, July 16, 1954), 98.
22   Gilbert, “London of the Future,” 103.
23   Tewder-Jones, “‘Oh, the planners did their best’,” 
393.


John Betjeman’s “Baker Street Station Buffett:” The Influence of an Architectural Literati in the fight Against Modern City Planning

Heath, Keri

  Vol. XLV, Spring 2016  • 1
On April 10, 1998, lawmakers in Northern Ireland 
attempted to put a stop to thirty years of sectarian violence 
with the Good Friday Agreement. Over the past three 
decades, Catholic Republicans and Protestant Unionists 
engaged in heavy fighting that turned the streets of Belfast 
into a battleground. The policy sought to reverse many of 
the injustices ingrained in the Northern Irish state. However, 
while the current peace process created progress towards 
relieving the tension on an official level, the contradictory 
communal identities within the state have remained intact, 
resulting in unresolved prejudices. 
 The Troubles in Northern Ireland stem from an 
issue of conflicted communal identities. Catholic views 
towards Unionists were jaded by decades of socio-economic 
oppression and by a government that was explicitly forged 
to serve Protestant people in a Protestant state. Throughout 
the Troubles, civil rights advocates complained that it was 
difficult for them to gain proper representation or to 
“maintain the balance of parties in Parliament” because of 
“the distribution of religious denominations throughout 
Northern Ireland.”1 At the same time, Northern Irish 
Protestants felt their way of life threatened by the possibility 
of Catholic emancipation and integration into the 
government. By the time the Good Friday Agreement was 
signed, each group had developed its own mythology of hate 
towards the opposite group, an oral history of tragedy that 
sustained the anger. 
 In theory, the arrangement that the negotiators wrote 
would create policies to bridge this hatred and solve these 
problems. The Agreement called for a Northern Ireland 
Assembly and Executive to provide a Northern Irish 
government in which both Republicans and Unionists 
would have the opportunity to work together. Throughout 
the negotiation process, tensions between the Northern Irish 
and British governments eased. Now, many government 
officials in Ireland and the United Kingdom, notably David 
Half-Peace: The Successes and Failures of the Peace 
Process in Northern Ireland
Keri Heath
Cameron and Enda Kenny, believe “Anglo-Irish relations are 
at an ‘all-time high.’”2 While tensions still exist, the efforts of 
the North-South Council and British-Irish Council have 
helped the two governments find commonalities on which 
they can forge their relationship. 
 However, the Assembly was ineffective in the long 
run. Continuing IRA activities caused Unionist leadership 
to refuse cooperation, preventing any major decisions from 
taking place. The British government stepped in several times 
to continue the state’s functioning. By the time the Assembly 
was formed, the Northern Irish people were split at the roots 
in national identity. Politicians struggled to convince their 
voting base that agreement was in their best interest. Indeed, 
much “of the antagonism between the two communities 
was based on preconceived notions of the other.”3 While the 
peace process that set up this assembly made an effort toward 
finding common ground between these two groups, the 
result was not effective in providing a long-term solution. 
 This is the key to understanding the effects of 
the Good Friday Agreement. While living conditions 
have become markedly better for citizens of Northern 
Ireland and the warzone-like quality of the cities has 
ceased, officials’ efforts have been unable to completely 
eliminate the community’s discriminatory ideology. Even by 
2013, “Northern Ireland [had] not carried out any socio-
economic justice to redistribute resources between the two 
communities.”4  The process of the economic reform left 
many working class individuals with just as few opportunities 
as they would have had during the conflict due to hardened 
beliefs of social norms. With the lack of forced dialogue 
between the Republican and Unionist groups in the 
community, “it has become apparent that sectarian feeling 
has not only failed to dissipate but may even have hardened 
in some districts” and that the contrasting communal 
identities remain a strong part of Northern Irish society. 5 
Political antagonisms remain rife and factional allegiances 
Dedication
The History Journal senior editors thank 
Dr. Molly Wood for her continuous 
guidance and support of the senior class 
as they finish their years in the history 
department at Wittenberg. Dr. Wood, we 
appreciate the time and commitment that 
you have shown to the class of 2016 in 
all that you do.
2  •  The Wittenberg History Journal
Section I.
Renaissance Reversed: 
Social Conflicts in Florence
“Florence,” Nuremberg Chronicle, 1493.
within the community continue to be strong. Instead of the 
hoped outcome, the contradictions and judgments between 
the two communities persist. 
 The Good Friday Agreement was able to produce 
some success in alleviating relations between Republicans 
and Unionists within the government. However, attempts 
to remove tension within the community itself through 
civil rights reform has not managed to cure the North of 
the deeper prejudices that sparked much of the conflict 
in the first place. Instead, this discrimination upon which 
Northern Ireland was founded has remained intact. While 
the peace process made advancement towards addressing the 
contradicting views within Northern Ireland’s government, 
it failed to break down the differing communal identities 
between Catholics and Protestants, leaving deep fissures 
remaining in the state. 
Endnotes
1 Thomas Hennessey A History of Northern Ireland, 1920-1996 
(Dublin: Gill & Macmillan Ltd, 1997), 52.
2 “Anglo-Irish Relations ‘at Peak’,” The Belfast Telegraph, 
November 3, 2014, accessed January 5, 2016, http://www.
belfasttelegraph.co.uk/news/republic-of-ireland/angloirish-
relations-at-peak-30083294.html.
  3 Hennessey, A History of Northern Ireland, 110. 
  4 Kerim Yildiz, The Good Friday Agreement: An Overview  
(London: Democratic Progress Institute, 2013), 53. 
  5 Colin Coulter and Michael Murray, Northern Ireland After the 
Troubles (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2008), 16. 
Bibliography
“Anglo-Irish Relations ‘at Peak’.” The Belfast Telegraph, 
November 3, 2014. Accessed January 5, 2016. http://www.
belfasttelegraph.co.uk/news/republic-of-ireland/angloirish-
relations-at-peak-30083294.html. 
Coulter, Colin, and Michael Murray. Northern Ireland After the 
Troubles. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2008. 
Hennessey, Thomas. A History of Northern Ireland, 1920-1996. 
Dublin: Gill & Macmillan Ltd, 1997. 
Yildiz, Kerim. The Good Friday Agreement: An Overview. London: 
Democratic Progress Institute, 2013.


Half-Peace: The Successes and Failures of the Peace  Process in Northern Ireland

Blakley, Kara

Collapse of Maya City-States: Environmental, Economic, and Cultural Conditions

DeSantis, Brian

Vol. XXXVI, Spring 2007 • t
The 146th Day of the Great War
Brian DeSantis
Hartje Award Winner
In 1914, the sun broke over Europe as it entered the 146 day of war. The
people and the land they lived on changed dramatically in that short period; millions
of civilians answered the call to become soldiers and cities were decimated. At the
outset, many publicly expected the war to be over by the 146 day, a now seemingly
misguided prediction as the countries found themselves entangled in a stalemate.
Failed offensives like the Battle of Ypres, which ended with over 200,000 casualties,
caused soldiers to prepare for a long winter in the trenches with diminished hopes
for a prompt end. Still, there were soldiers, like Second Lieutenant Baimsfather, who
clung on to dreams of peace by the 146 day: "I should like to have suddenly heard
an immense siren blowing... [and the appearance] of a small figure running across the
frozen mud waiving something...'war off, return home, --George, R.I..''
2
Baimsfather's dreams about the war ending on the 146 day were not
unfounded. The prior night he and many others marveled at a peculiar occurrence;
instead of hearing the incessant sound of firing shells, they listened keenly to German
voices singing songs of peace like StiIlNact, heilige Nact. The British soldiers responded
by singing the English equivalent, Silent Night, from their own trenches. 3 Soldiers
seemed determined to create a relative peace, even though greater forces prohibited
them from an outright end to the war. The serene night inspired by song, lasted into
the morning of the 146 day, when a more formal declaration of peace was established
throughout the frozen front. On one part, an unarmed German officer daringly crossed
the barren land and was met by an Englishman who, "Came forward despite shouts
of warning...which did not prevent him from shaking hands with the enemy...his
comrades applauded the magnanimity of the Germans."4 In other areas, Germans
raised white flags, and one British Officer presented the Germans with a gift.s While
such an occurrence alone would make the day memorable, later events would make
the 146 day one of the most extraordinary of the war.
Following the lead of others, many troops cautiously rose out of their trenches.
Leaving the trenches for No Man's Land, the area between trenches, usually invited
a barrage of bullets, but initial consternation of entering this area subsided as the
enemies candidly greeted each other. For those able to speak multiple languages, jokes
and stories were exchanged; others proudly shared photographs of their families.6
In a field that had been ravaged by the First World War's distinctive shelling, came
unbelievable stories of humanity where men treated each other as friends instead of
the bitter foes they had become after four months of fighting. Experiences ranged
from a British soldier cutting the hair of a shaggy German, to a much fabled soccer
match the British were said to have won. Soldiers distributed food rations and
2 • The Wittenberg History Journal
exchanged a seasonable ham, while others took time to bury the fallen, some of which
had lay untended in No Man's Land for months.7 While fighting would resume in the
upcoming days, many soldiers went to sleep that night with a war experience that
would be retold for years to come.
To consider the thoughts and actions recorded in diaries and discussed in letters,
the 146 day was truiy miraculous. This day was not only a day of peace during the
war, but was also December 25 : the Christian holiday of Christmas. While hopes of
peace and unity were common amongst families and friends, never before had such
feelings extended so prominently on a battlefield to create a day-long truce. Yet to
discuss the peace that occurred as a response to a Christian holiday overshadows the
significance and power of what happened,s For one day, the 146 day, hundreds of
thousands of soldiers consciously chose to lay down their arms and overlooked the
nationalist ambitions of their respective country. In a war remembered for its mass
mobilization and high number of casualties, soldiers have often been portrayed as
individually powerless. Yet for a day, regardless of their reasons or motives, soldiers
stopped war's destruction, and interacted with the enemy in a way modern history
had never seen. Not until the 1,561th day and tens of millions of deaths later, would
generals declare a peace that soldiers had informally conducted 1,415 days prior.
Many soldiers who experienced the 146 day would be not live to see peace in 1918,
but through their own actions on that memorable day, they already understood what
peace could feel like.
Selected Bibliography
Bourke, Joanna. An Intimate History of Killing: Face to Face Killing in Twentieth Century Warfare.
New York: Basic Books, 1999.
Brown, Malcom & Shirley Seaton. Christmas Truce. London: Papermac, 1994.
Eksteins, Modris. Rites of Spring. New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1989.
Weintraub, Stanley. Silent Night. New York: The Free Press, 2001.
Winter, Denis. Death's Men: Soldiers of the Great War. New York: Penguin, 1978.
Endnotes
l Bruce Baims[ather, Bullets and Billets (New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1917), 74.
2 Malcom Brown & Shirley Seaton. Christmas Truce. (London: Papermac, 1994), 81.
3 Ibid., 81.
4 Ibid, 83.
Ibid., Based on numerous accounts found in: Stanley Weintraub. Silent Night. (New York: The Free Press, 2001), 57-66.;
Modris Eksteins. P 'tes of Spring. (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1989), 96-97.
6 Eksteins, 112.
Brown, 84.; Weintraub; 54-62.
8 In Rites of Spring, Eksteins argues that the Christmas Truce was: "[A] celebration of history and tradition," and inspired
by cultural norms associated with the holiday, 113.


The 146th Day of the Great War

Burns, Jenny

Pious vs. Holy: The Relationships and Differences Between the Lives of Laywomen and the Lives of Female Saints That Depict the Evolution of Sanctity in Byzantium

McCance, Sarah

Behind Stone Walls and Between the Lines: Bethlem Doctors\u27 Perceptions of Insanity in Early Victorian London

Schwartz, Zoë

  Vol. XLVIII, Spring 2022  •  1
Pope Urban II did not advertise the First 
Crusade in the region of northeastern France and the 
Rhineland mid-1090s. Despite the pope’s absence, the 
zealous response to his call for the crusade continued 
as Peter the Hermit began preaching the cause in 
this area himself. As Peter and his recruited band of 
aristocratic and common pilgrims made their way 
through the Rhineland toward Jerusalem, they acted 
as an advertisement for the newly begun First Crusade. 
The passage of these French crusaders through the 
Rhineland set the barons of the Rhineland, who were 
inspirited by crusading ideals, into motion.1 Among 
these enthused barons was the infamous Count 
Emicho of Flonheim, who is in both Christian and 
Jewish interpretations of the event to come attributed 
as the main architect of the violence against the Jewish 
communities in 1096.2 
 The activities of the German barons were, 
although inspired by Peter the Hermit’s crusading 
zeal, not under the direct control of Peter.3 Their 
ensuing anti-Jewish violence against Rhineland’s well-
established Jewish communities reflects an anti-Jewish 
element that existed in classical Christian teaching.4 
The German band of crusaders augmented an anti-
Jewish component to the already loosely established 
crusading goals, resulting in organized efforts to 
destroy major Jewish communities before heading East 
to fulfill the other element of the crusade.5 For the 
enemy of the Christians were not sole in the Jerusalem, 
they also resided much closer to home. In the ranks 
of Count Emicho’s army of twelve-hundred men 
and women, were the French aristocrats Clarembold, 
a noble of Vendeuil and Thomas from the House 
of Coucy.6 Thomas is most known for his psychotic 
behavior some years after the crusade when he ravaged 
the countryside around Laon, Reims, and Amiens 
The Popular Crusade: Following Count Emicho
Zoë Schwartz
leaving the area utterly destroyed, earning him the title 
of “most accursed.”7 While many Jewish communities 
around the Rhine came under attack in 1096, Emicho 
and thus his vassal, Thomas, are only recorded as 
having participated in one, the attack on the Jewish 
community in Mainz.8 
 For two days, the army camped outside 
the closed gates of Mainz and waited for the other 
crusading parties to arrive via the King’s highway.9 
While these groups arrived, the leaders received letters 
of negotiation from the Jewish community of Mainz, 
offering the crusading party money and safe passage 
in exchange for peace having heard of the slaughter of 
the Jewish community of Speyer.10 Emicho disregarded 
their plea and inspirited his army with the spirit of 
with the cause: “Let us take vengeance upon the Jews 
first! We shall wipe them out as a nation so that Israel’s 
name will be mentioned no more or let them like us 
and acknowledge Christ.”11 
 The army found support from the local 
population when they opened the gates for the 
invading force.12 Emicho’s army confronted these Jews, 
who sought protection in the Archbishop Ruthard’s 
palace, the burgrave’s compound, and the priest’s 
courtyard.13 After forcing the Jews to choose between 
conversion and death, many chose to die at their own 
hands. Thus, the army found many  
self-sacrificed Jews in the palace and the courtyard.14 
The army’s rampage was not finished; more Jews were 
hiding elsewhere in the city. There were those who 
hid in their homes or in the homes of sympathetic 
Christian neighbors.15 These Jews were also sought out, 
killed or forcibly converted, and their houses looted.16 
 At the end of the day, the success of Emicho’s 
army was apparent, even in the face of the provisions 
provided to protect the Jewish people from the 
2  •  The Wittenberg History Journal
crusading party, the violent attack on the city of Mainz 
rid the city of at least six hundred Jews, while the rest 
were forcefully baptized.17 The conclusion of Emicho’s 
army happens in mid-June 1096, roughly a month 
after the attack on Mainz, when Emicho’s army was 
fatally defeated by the Hungarians before ever stepping 
foot in the Middle East.18 After being prevented from 
entering the Kingdom of Hungary at the Innsbruck 
border, the army was thus instructed to besiege the 
fortress with little success. A delegation was then sent 
into the Hungarian town but before their return to the 
camp, Emicho caught wind of a conspiracy against him 
by this four-man delegation. In response to the threat 
of a coup, Emicho fled.  Shortly after he was followed 
by many of his knights also in retreat. Thomas and 
Clarembold and the others who survived the battle 
and their flight from the Hungarians fled to Carinthia 
to join the other crusading forces heading toward 
Jerusalem.  Count Emicho followed lead his followers 
along the royal highway to the Rhineland in retreat, 
leaving his looted treasures and his chance to visit 
Jerusalem in Hungary.
End Notes
1 Robert Chazan, God, Humanity, and History: The 
Hebrew First Crusade Narratives (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 2000), 30.
2 Kenneth Stow, “Conversion, Apostasy, and 
Apprehensiveness: Emicho of Floheim and the Fear of the
Jews in the Twelfth Century,” in Popes, Church, and Jews 
in the Middle Ages: Confrontation and Response
(Albershot, Great Britain: Ashgate, 2007), 911.
3 Chazan, God, Humanity, and History, 30.
4 Robert Chazan, In the Year 1096: The First Crusade and 
the Jews (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication
Society, 1997), 16.
5 Robert Chazan, European Jewry and the First Crusade 
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987),
6 Albert of Aix, “Albert of Aix,” in Jews in Christian 
Europe: A Source Book, 315-1791, ed. Jacob Rader
Marcus (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2015), 
120.
7 Suger, The Deeds of Louis the Fat, trans. Richard 
Cusimano and John Moorhead (Washington, D.C.:
Catholic University of America Press, 1992), 106.
8 Stow, “Conversion, Apostasy, and Apprehensiveness,” 
913.
9 Albert of Aix, “Emico: The Version of Ekkehard of 
Aura,” in The First Crusade: The Chronicle of
Fulcher of Chartres and Other Source Materials, ed. 
Edward Peters (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press, 1971), 102.
10 Chazan, God, Humanity, and History, 37.
11 Chazan, European Jewry and the First Crusade, 69.
12 Shlomo Eidelberg, trans., “The Chronicle of 
Solomonbar Simson,” in The Jews and the Crusaders: The
Hebrew Chronicles of the First and Second Crusade, 21-
72. (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1977),
30.
13 Chazan, God, Humanity, and History, 93.
14 Eidelberg, “Solomon bar Simson,” 31.
15 Chazan, In the Year 1096, 34, 60.
16 Shlomo Eidelberg, trans., “Narrative of the Old 
Persecutions (Mainz Anonymous),” in The Jews and the
Crusaders: The Hebrew Chronicles of the First and 
Second Crusade, 99-115 (Madison: University of 
Wisconsin
Press, 1977), 114.
17 Stow, “Conversion, Apostasy, and Apprehensiveness,” 
918. Chazan, In the Year, 33.
18 Albert of Aix, “Emico: The Version of Ekkehard of 
Aura,” in The First Crusade: The Chronicle of
Fulcher of Chartres and Other Source Materials, ed. 
Edward Peters (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press, 1971), 101. 
Bibliography
Primary Sources
Albert of Aix. “Albert of Aix.” In Jews in Christian 
Europe: A Source Book, 315-1791, edited 
by Jacob Rader Marcus, 80-82. Pittsburgh: 
University of Pittsburgh Press, 2015.
Albert of Aix. “Emicho: The Version of Albert of Aix.” In 
The First Crusade: The Chronicle of Fulcher of 
Chartres and Other Source Materials, edited by 
Edward Peters, 102-104. Philadelphia: University 
of Pennsylvania Press, 1971.
“The Chronicle of Solomonbar Simson.” In The Jews 
and the Crusaders: The Hebrew Chronicles of 
the First and Second Crusade, translated by 
Shlomo Eidelberg, 21-72. Madison: University of 
Wisconsin Press, 1977.
Ekkehard of Aura. “Emico: The Version of Ekkehard of 
Maijz.” In The First Crusade: The Chronicle of 
  Vol. XLVIII, Spring 2022  •  3
Fulcher of Chartres and Other Source Materials, 
edited by Edward Peters, 101-102. Philadelphia: 
University of Pennsylvania Press, 1971.
“Narrative of the Old Persecutions (Mainz Anonymous).” 
In The Jews and the Crusaders: The Hebrew 
Chronicles of the First and Second Crusade, 
translated by Shlomo Eidelberg, 99-115. Madison: 
University of Wisconsin Press, 1977.
Suger. The Deeds of Louis the Fat. Translated by Richard 
Cusimano and John Moorhead Washington, D.C.: 
Catholic University of America Press, 1992. 
Secondary Sources
Chazan, Robert. European Jewry and the First Crusade. 
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987.
Chazan, Robert. God, Humanity, and History: The Hebrew 
First Crusade Narratives. Berkeley: University of 
California Press, 2000.
Chazan, Robert. In the Year 1096: The First Crusade and 
the Jews. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 
1997.
Stow, Kenneth. “Conversion, Apostasy, and 
Apprehensiveness: Emicho of Floheim and the 
Fear of the Jews in the Twelfth Century.” In 
Popes, Church, and Jews in the Middle Ages: 
Confrontation and Response, 911-933. Albershot, 
Great Britain: Ashgate, 2007. 


The Popular Crusade: Following Count Emicho

Opdycke, Lexi

September 11th in the Classroom

Neall, Scott

  Vol. XLIV, Spring 2015  • 1
Despite his reputation for being a merciless killer and the 
credit many give him for truly starting the demise of the 
Roman Empire, it can be hard to take Attila seriously. One 
can scarcely imagine him as anything other than a screaming 
barbarian wreaking havoc on a scale of Hollywood 
proportions. His tenure as sole ruler of the Huns, which 
involved his famous, devastating attack into Italy that may 
have garnered approval from Michael Bay or Mel Gibson, 
was predicated on political maneuvering that was in fact 
more deft than brutish. Like many good stories, the tale of 
this invasion starts with a death.
According to Roman historians such as Marcellinus, 
who had spent time in Attila’s court, Attila assassinated his 
elder brother and co-ruler Bleda on or around 445 CE.1 
The Huns had for many years enjoyed success against 
a variety of sedentary empires under their combined 
leadership. Nevertheless, Attila appears to have desired for 
more power and autonomy over the Hunnic empire and the 
removal of his brother would have been a straightforward 
method of accomplishing this. The intrigue involved with 
an assassination is a far cry from the mounted invasions for 
which Attila is famous; one might expect pitched combat for 
control of the forces rather than a quiet death about which 
little is known. Without firsthand accounts of Bleda’s death 
there has been some debate over its exact nature, but it is 
certain that after he gained control over the entirety of the 
Hunnic forces his focus was on Rome. 
Attila’s invasion of the Eastern Roman Empire in 447 
took advantage of the lack of cohesion among the Romans. 
At this point in its history the Roman empire was not wholly 
united but instead had relatively autonomous emperors 
ruling from Constantinople in the east and Ravenna in the 
west. This arrangement would have worked better in the mid 
to late fifth century if not for a variety of nomadic groups, 
notably the Huns at this point, occupying the space between 
the two. When Attila invaded he was able to defeat the 
Never Mind the Romans, Here’s Attila: The Brief and 
Bloody Reign of the Great Hunnic Leader
Scott Neall
Roman forces in the east and march as far as Thermopylae.2 
He eventually withdrew and engaged in peace negotiations 
with Eastern Roman Emperor Theodosius II, but 
Theodosius died before they were completed. Rather than 
take advantage of that death or retaliate when Theodosius’s 
son, Marcian, ceased paying tribute to the Huns, Attila 
decided to engage with the western Romans after this 
campaign.3
The events that sparked Attila’s eventual invasion of the 
Western Roman Empire defy the commonly held view of 
him as the mindless, bloodthirsty destroyer of civilization. 
After his return from the invasion in the east Attila received 
an envoy from the Honoria, the sister of Western Roman 
Emperor Valentinian III. Valentinian had arranged her 
engagement with a man but she was against the marriage 
so she asked Attila for assistance in the matter. She had sent 
with the envoy treasure and promises of more and, most 
importantly, a ring.4 Attila took this as an invitation to 
marriage and responded that he would help Honoria if she 
would become his wife.5 This was a savvy political move, 
as it gave Attila a position to bargain with the Romans 
and justification for war. He did just that, and demanded 
Valentinian give to him Honoria and half of the Western 
Roman Empire.6 With neither of these forthcoming, Attila 
launched an attack.
Attila first attacked into Gaul, rather than Italy, and was 
met there by Roman general Aetius. Aetius had been a 
captor of the Huns earlier in his life and was familiar with 
their tactics, and so when they met in battle on June 20, 451, 
at the Catalaunian Fields, both sides received heavy losses 
and Attila was forced to withdraw.7 In 452 Attila finally 
began the invasion that made him the most famous and 
crossed the Alps into Italy. In northern Italy he sacked cities 
such as Aquileia, Pavia, and Milan.8 When he finally reached 
Rome, however, he was famously persuaded to spare the 
city and cease his offensive by Pope Leo. Whether because of 
Dedication
The staff of the History Journal dedicates 
this issue to Dr. Amy Livingstone, whose 
dedication to Wittenberg’s history students 
and passion for education has inspired us 
to push our limits of though, research, and 
scholarship. Through her tireless work and 
caring advising, she encourages students to 
meet their fullest potential.
2  •  The Wittenberg History Journal
fear of divine retribution, lack of supplies stemming from a 
drought in Italy, or a plague that had ravaged his soldiers, or 
any combination thereof, Attila was persuaded and withdrew 
from Italy.9 Just a year later, in 253, eight years after he 
assumed total control of the Huns, Attila died of a blood 
hemorrhage on his wedding night with a new bride.
Attila is infamous in western history as the man that 
brought about the end of the Roman Empire through a 
bloody invasion of Italy. In some ways, this is exactly what 
he did: in a few short years he attacked several parts of the 
Roman Empire, destabilizing an already declining civilization. 
However, this was only possible because of successful 
statecraft both internally and externally, in addition to his 
military success. Attila may have been an uncommon leader, 
but the conditions that lead to Rome’s downfall were already 
in place when Attila decided to take Honoria as his wife 
and threaten the heart of the Roman Empire. Rather than 
a crazed lunatic who plunged Europe into the Dark Ages, 
Attila is perhaps better remembered as a savvy leader who 
dominated his neighbors through negotiation as well as 
military force.
Endnotes
1 Christopher Kelly, The End of Empire: Attila the Hun and the Fall 
of Rome (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2009), 129.
2 Christopher Beckwith, Empires of the Silk Road: A History 
of Central Eurasia from the Bronze Age to the Present (Princeton, NJ: 
Princeton University Press, 2009), 97.
3 Beckwith, Empires of the Silk Road, 97.
4 E. A. Thompson, The Huns (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 
1999), 145.
5 Kelly, The End of Empire, 225-26.
6 Ibid., 236.
7 Beckwith, Empires of the Silk Road, 98.
8 Kelly, The End of Empire, 259. 
9 Ibid., 262.
Bibliography
Kelly, Christopher. The End of Empire: Attila the Hun and the Fall 
of Rome. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2009.
Beckwith, Christopher. Empires of the Silk Road: A History of 
Central Eurasia from the Bronze Age to the Present. Princeton, 
NJ: Princeton University Press, 2009.
Thompson, E. A. The Huns. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 1999.
Section I.
Religion and The Other
Vézelay Abbey, northern Burgundy, France.


Never Mind the Romans, Here’s Attila: The Brief and  Bloody Reign of the Great Hunnic Leader

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