Historical fiction can really be hit and miss, but this week I'd like to show you a gem in the genre: Dissolution  by CJ Sansom.

The Plot

I picked up Dissolution as a stab in the dark because it covers what I think is one of the most fascinating events in English history - the Dissolution of the Monasteries in the sixteenth century. It was a very turbulent time, with Henry VIII's bullish religious changes following his divorce and break from the pope. In his quest for reformation (and money!) the entire ecclesiastical landscape of the country would be forever transformed under the direction of Lord Cromwell. This is the same vein of history as the considerably more famous Wolf Hall and also has Cromwell as a significant character, but in the case of dissolution the protagonist is actually his commissioner Matthew Shardlake. I admit that I couldn't get into Wolf Hall despite it's recommendations because the writing style jarred with me, so I hoped that Dissolution might keep the same interest with something more approachable. 

The story is set in 1537 and puts the dissolution of the monasteries at the forefront as Henry uses Cromwell to put in place savage new laws, a network of informants and rigged trials. These all to serve to push forwards a reformist version of Christianity that Cromwell values, and - more importantly to the king - will allow Henry VIII to sure up his power as the new 'supreme head of the church' in England and access previously catholic wealth. Cromwell picks out a loyal lawyer and enthusiastic reformist Matthew Shardlake to assist him in investigating the monastery of Scarnsea where one of Cromwell's other commissioners - Robert Singleton - was found decapitated and the alter desecrated. As winter descends around them, Shardlake finds himself as good as trapped in the monastery walls as he tries to uncover a web of murder, corruption and confusion that will force him to question everything he believes in most.

History and The Murder Mystery

Call this a personal preference, but I find when it comes to more 'hardcore' genres that rely a lot of heavy detail and world-building, that they are always the most successful when they splice into another genre that allows the pace to pick up and for the details to sit within a particular context. For example, I love me some sci-fi films, but I find pure 'hardcore' sci fi books very dull because they are so keen to show off their world-building and detail that they often forget to create a readable story. So (controversially!) I cannot stand many sci-fi classics like Dune because this seems to be all it is. However, when that genre is spliced onto a simpler and more animated genre that demands a tight plot - such as a murder mystery - it becomes a different beast. So for example the excellent Altered Carbon  by Richard K Morgan is for me a brilliant sci-fi story because it is so closely tied to a good old fashioned murder mystery: the world-building and intricate details work to a foundation of a quick moving and always relevant plotline and therefore are more effective and allow the reader a better sense of context and urgency than just hard-sci-fi alone. The same absolutely applies to historical fiction, and Dissolution proves this for me. 

Matthew Shardlake by Hazelfo

Dissolution's  plot is effectively a decent old fashioned closed-door murder mystery. By having this as a base, the intricate world-building required of authentic history is allowed to flourish without detracting from the core story and the pacing of the book. By having the history there as the world, and by including historical characters as the protagonists this becomes a unusual and interesting murder-mystery, and by including the murder mystery this becomes a brilliantly engaging piece of historical fiction that does far more than many books that would have the characters endlessly static and standing in dark rooms wittering on about old politics. Each character has an energy of purpose that carries you through.

Like all good murder mysteries Dissolution has great  pacing that knows when to ebb and flow, when to push up the action and when to allow natural paranoia to seep in. Of course it has twists, the body count is satisfying and the plot deals you quite an entertaining 'bloody hell!' reveal that is nicely foreshadowed so that it alarms you without creating incredulity. What's more, the way the murder mystery plot is handled is perfectly in sync with the time period of the setting.


The Characters

Alice Fewterer by Koppori

For me, the way that Dissolution handles the nuances, passions and controversies of the time period is really something special, and it achieves this in large part due to the quality of the characters. The fascinating thing about the sixteenth century, seen most in the dissolution of the monasteries, was how people's belief systems (and even systems of class) were challenged by the onset of the reformation. The Catholic church, which had reigned supreme for hundreds of years, was in one fell swoop cast aside by an English King supported by reformists. The reformists sought to create a purer religion by getting rid of what they saw as superstitions, corruption and laziness in the church, but to do so they were forcing people to turn their backs on traditions -such as purgatory - that they believed could literally save their immortal souls.What's more, reform asked the public to assert things that, in the past, could have had then burned at the stake as heretics. In a class system that previously demanded unfaltering obedience to the pope how could they now reject him? Yet how could they maintain loyalty to this christian power when it was now treason to do so? To make matters worse religious reform was getting more and more mixed in with greed and personal agendas: monasteries were being dissolved for their lands under pretence of religious reform, and recently the queen herself had been beheaded on false charges while Henry was wooing a new wife. It was a dangerous and confusing time and in Dissolution, each character allows us to see the personal impact of these actions by embodying the different opinions and fears of the day.

Take Shardlake, our protagonist, as an example. He is an enthusiastic reformer - perhaps naive in his belief that, by destroying the papacy and all its pomp, England will lead a new purer religion. He is therefore in awe of Cromwell and eager to please. He is ambitious and loyal, and is very much aware of how tenuous a position it is to be in 'favor' with the powerful man. He has witnessed the Queen's execution first hand and his sense of duty is very much tinged with a certain anxiety. He is, however, a kind man who is very aware of his own talents and his own weaknesses - as a hunchback he is in the end always an outsider, who only has his own wits and reputation to rely on. The grim events in the monastery throughout Dissolution will test his character to its core.


Conclusion

In conclusion, Dissolution was a fantastic read for any history fan, as the historical world of the sixteenth century was so well handled, the characters so colourful, and the murder mystery so entertaining. I'm pleased to see that this is also a series of 5 books and counting and I'm sure to be rooting out the sequels in the future. Definitely give this a look.



Interested in what else I'm reading? Got something you'd love to recommend? Then feel free check out my Goodreads account and let me know what book you can't put down today. 

The key to a good biography is that it picks you up and drops you right in the middle of the protagonist's life and allows you to see the world with new eyes.

 In nothing is this more important than in historical biographies, where you're given the protagonist as a unique focus to anchor you as you look around the period of history that they grew in.

The Tudor period is arguably the most famous in all of Britain's history: it held the devastation of the reformation, it encompassed the rise of the printing press, the discovery of 'new worlds', and the flourishing of great art and the rise of charismatic personalities that were rapidly brought to test by some of the most turbulent and back-stabbing political changes that the country had experienced. It was also, fundamentally, a watershed period for the rise of female agency and rule in areas that had previously been barred to them. With such a rich and well known period of history to navigate - with lists of influential names and machinations to remember - having an anchor to hold on to is what prevents everything from becoming all too academic and alien. Mary Lovell presents Bess of Hardwick as that anchor in her biography, and the great lady proves to be a fantastic guide.

Bess of Hardwick was the first lady of Chatsworth house and rose to become the second richest and most powerful woman in the country, under Queen Elizabeth herself. She was born into genteel family that was far from wealthy by noblity's standards. She was first widowed at sixteen, going on to survive three more husbands. Her fourth marriage to the Earl of Shrewsbury was beset by problems as the couple struggled to keep together under their duty of the gaurdianship (and imprisonment) of Mary Queen of Scots for fifteen years, and the marriage eventually broke apart under her husband's declining mental health.

Mary Queen of Scots: Bess' friend and enemy

Despite these challenges, Bess worked hard to secure the future of her children and to secure and grow her fortune, becoming a self taught enthusiastic businesswoman in what was very much a man's world. Forging her independence and relying on her own natural charisma and intelligence, she made sure that she was a valuable asset to the court and managed to weather through the reigns of four famous monarchs while many of her friends fell foul of their tempers. In this, despite her modest beginnings, Bess had fantastic success. She was a close personal friend of Elizabeth Ist (although even she was not immune to the effects of the virgin queen's moods) and her own granddaughter Arbella, through Bess' machinations, came tantalisingly close to taking the English throne.

This is the wonderfully written history of the domestic, dynastic and political occupations of an 'ordinary' woman, and offers a unique and very accessible historical perspective. While this is doubtless a feminist history of a remarkable woman, Lovell manages to focus on the day to day realities of this woman's life: while Lovell is impressed and clearly affectionate about her subject, Bess is never coloured as either a martyr or a saint. What the book offers is a rarely glimpses level of detail and reality about what it meant to be a Tudor woman.

Bess herself in the 1550s

Lovell's research is commendable: she has scanned through hundreds and hundreds of letters, household accounts and more to back up her biography with primary research. This gives her the authority to challenge many previous biographies and historical theories about Bess, and she does so with a sense of humble confidence. As with any good historical biography, pages of notes are provided so that, if you wish, you can check her references and do some research of your own.

While this is - I believe - a 'proper' historical work, the narrative style is chronological and detailed while still keeping the emotional flourishes and conjecture that make for a very engaging read. It's impossible to close the final pages of this book without feeling a sense of companionship and admiration for Bess herself. As Alexander Waugh [The Independent on Sunday] commented about the book, it is 'one of those biographies in which the reader really doesn't want the subject to die'.

I thoroughly recommend a read.

On the 11th of October 1568, the men of Ipswich were in battle with monsters.


With a great thrashing of waves, fishermen's boats were violently assaulted as they attempted to restrain a vast writhing beast that has no business being in local waters. They gripped on for dear life as the huge creature 'swam awaye with the boat & all the men that were on it, towards the sea at a marvaylous swift pace'. The men were only saved by the multitude of other small vessels that had collected to see the spectacle.

The monster was not alone. In total Timothy Granger - an eyewitness along with other sailors and shipmen in Ipswich- counted sixteen more monstrous fish, both males and females, who seem to have swam into trouble on a low tide. Ipswich wharf was soon bustling with onlookers who 'came together to help and see the taking of them' and they were amazed by what they saw. 

The fish were strange creatures: they were 'white beneath the eyes...else black' with white bellies and with huge jaws. The tail of each 'marvelous fishe' was so strong and large that when ten men stood upon it it was said to have overthrown them all. Strangest of all, Granger commented, 'upon thyr heds were holes, as big that a man might put in both his fistes at once'. From these holes Granger exclaimed that they spurted out so much water that, in their attempt to drag the beast back to Ipswich Wharf, they almost drowned two boatsmen.

The attempt to capture all seventeen animals was arduous and, as per the norm at the time, cruel. After many failed attempts where the boats of the hunters were dragged out to sea, or where cable ropes snapped, the onlookers and sailors managed to wrap cable rope around each fish's tail and drag them to the wharf, where they were each tethered to a tree. With much effort, they managed to heave each animal up, despite the occasional broken 'wyndlace', and granger commented on their sheer 'marvaylous greatness, strength and wayght'. Seeing the fish as a valuable resource, the townspeople instantly went about attempting to slay the creatures for their meat. To their surprise, despite being stricken with axes and other weapons, some of the creatures lay on the wharf for two days and a night before they died. It was said that 'the ryver wherein they weare taken was coloured red', and that three butchers worked a whole day carving up just one fish.

As the butchers worked, Granger marvelled at the anatomy of the beast. The fish was said to be a man's height in thickness 'from the top of the backe to the bones, and his bones hard as stones'. Despite the challenge of the butchery, the meat of the beast was carved up and distributed to the people at the town, 'that did eate of it, and it was verye good meate'.

Credit: Robert L. Pitman, NOAA Fisheries, USA

Nowadays it's perhaps easy for us to identify these whales as killer whales, though at the time they were completely strange and bizarre creatures, unknown by the common person. Certainly Timothy Granger thought it strange enough to justify putting it to print and it, like other sensational texts at the time, was picked up, read and displayed with enthusiasm as proof of the wonders of God's ways. Even now, the sudden arrival of seventeen Orcas on Ipswich's shores wouldn't look out of place in any tabloid paper.


Sources


-Granger,Timothy, A Most True and Marveilous Straunge Wonder, the lyke hath seldom ben seene, of XVII Monstrous Fishes, taken in Suffolke, at Downham brydgem within a myle of Ipswiche The .XI.daye of October. In the yeare of our Lordge God. M.D.LX.VIII. (London, 1568). 

If I had to pick a favourite period of history, it would be the 16th century


I just adore the shambles in York: seeing the timber frames leaning over me every time I wander down the cobbled streets lifts my heart. So, all things considered, it's remarkable that I haven't ever visited our own version of Tudor architecture, nestled in the steel city of Sheffield.

Bishop's house can be found on Norton Lees Lane, at the bottom of Meersbrook Park. It's an easy drive and, if you didn't know it was already there, it would be easy to miss. Unlike so many of the grand historical manor houses in the country, Bishop's House hides in plain, unassuming, sight amongst the modern semi-suburban scenery. Neat squares of grass and pathways frame the roads and  tower blocks of flats rise up in the background. When we visited we pulled up next to one of the countless scruffy allotments that are dotted across Sheffield. Bishop's house presses up to the park edge: a strange relic that is both out of place and yet firmly rooted into it's environment. There is no build up - no gated protection. No pomp or pagentry but for a small sign. You literally walk off the road wander up to a building that has been sat in this corner of Sheffield for the last 500 years.

The understatement of Bishop's house is a large part of it's charm, yet in it's construction it was a grand status symbol. At the time of being built, the park and houses would have instead been covered by fields, so it is thought that Bishop's house was built to act as a small manor house for a minor gentry or for a prosperous Yeoman. It was begun in 1500, it is thought, and there is some legend around how the house gained it's name, though no one has yet been able to support the story. It was thought that a pair of brothers lived in the house for a time who later became bishops: Geoffrey Blythe became the bishop of Lichfield/Coverntry and John Blythe became the bishop of Salisbury. 
While we can't support the evidence of this, there is evidence for the Blythe family having residence in the house some 127 years after it's construction started. In 1627 William Blythe lived in the house. It was thought that he was a farmer that was very successful in the scythe making trade which fourished in Sheffield at this time.
Following the Civil War William's son - a Parliamentarian - also lived there. He was one of two officers responsible for organising the destruction of Sheffield castle in 1648. A minister named Samuel was the last Blythe to reside in the building.
Bishop's house gradually fell into decline until 1886, when the house was given to the Coorperation when Meersbrook Park was created. Previously it had been surrounded by outbuildings, but these were soon demolished. In 1976 the house was opened as a museum.

As a museum Bishop's House is a little underwhelming, but as an example of Tudor architecture and as a living breathing example of Sheffield's lesser-known history, it is a treasure. As you walk across misshapen oak floorboards and wind your way through the cosy rooms of the house, it is easy to fall in love with the building. Display boards proudly show off the work that the Friends of Bishop's House do with schools, where children can come in for talks and to dress up as tudors. In what seems to be a trend in Museums Sheffield properties, there is also a display of farmyard taxidermy that would have charmed me as a kid.

While the main aim of the building is to soak in the architecture, if you look in the display cabinets the house does hold some real treasures. I particularly enjoyed the displays of stunning embroidered gloves worn by a wealthy Sheffield resident, and the examples of stump work embroidery. These are mirrored by a wall display of more modern naive embroidery that charmingly depicts a historical scene in bright vivid colours.

 In addition to the general material history in the place, display boards also give you further insight into the history of Early Modern Sheffield as a whole. For example, a board tells about how law and order was upheld in the town which inspires a rather interesting comparison to our modern ASBOs in use today. It reads:

'No manner of any person or persona shal at any tyme after nyne of the clock until three of the clock in the morninge use walkinge or takinge in towne street whereby it shalbe anoyeance to those that be honest men and householders in the said towne.'

Even in a time before an official police force, in 1554 Sheffield formed the Town Burgesses. These people administered public affairs in the town and employed people to enforce local laws. In addition, the town also paid for a street cleaner and a bellman to patrol the town in the night.


Overall, Bishop's House has a very local feel, and one has to to be charmed by it's character. As a building it is a stunning survivor worthy of respect, and a opening into a time of Sheffield's history which is often overshadowed by its industrial fame in the Victorian era.

If you'd like to visit, you can find bishop's house on Norton Lees Lane, S8 9BE in Sheffield.
And, if you'd like to become a member of the Friends of Bishop's House  you can click here for more info.



Sources
-Pictures taken by me in March 2014, filters courtesy of instagram
- Peeks at the Past in Sheffield and the Surrounding Area by Ann Beedham
- Bishop's House Website