I had never heard of mudlarking until a reel came across my Instagram feed. I was instantly mesmerized. The River Thames in London is a tidal river. As the sea recedes, it exposes what is called the “foreshore” – the area of the riverbed revealed at low tide. Historically, 19th century Victorian mudlarks were young, usually boys, who scavenged for anything which they could sell in order to survive. Today there is a mudlarking community – each has their own collecting interest – be it coins, clay pipes, scraps of metal, or old bottles. Did you know there is even a “Society of Thames Mudlarks” that was founded in the late 1970s? I want to know more so am now reading Mudlarking: Lost and Found on the River Thames – a personal journey of Lara Maiklem’s relationship with mudlarking and the river.
Reading about mudlarking reminded me of my childhood when we would visit my grandparents in Detroit. I was always fascinated by my grandfather’s way of organizing his workbench in his small garage – all of the tools, but mostly the nuts and bolts, nails, screws, etc. that he had sorted and stored in little jars, all arranged neatly on shelves. I wish I had a photo. The backyard was fenced in and there was a gate that led to an alley. My sister and I would venture forth and go “alley-picking” to see if we could find any treasures. If we ever did, I have forgotten.
Fast forward several years to northern Michigan where as a teen I would take my younger brother for adventures – driving along dirt roads to see where we might end up. He would tell me where to turn and often we would find an old abandoned farmhouse, park the car, and go inside to explore. In retrospect, maybe a little bit dangerous? These glasses are just a few of the objects we found. I was also fascinated by the piles of letters people left behind though my teenage self did not yet have the archival mindset or experience to think to save them. Someone’s life represented in a pile of “stuff.”
This takes me to last year when I traveled to Puglia, Italy. One early morning while waiting for my daughter to wake up, I drove to the “cliffs” of Polignano e Mare for a walk. As I looked down (watching my step on the rock formations), I noticed small pieces of broken ceramic tile – hundreds, if not thousands, of them. So many different colors and patterns nestled among the rock. I couldn’t resist and picked up as wide a variety as I could find and brought home nearly five pounds of tile in my suitcase! So I guess you can see why mudlarking has such a wide appeal for me. What stories do these found objects tell about hte poeple who owned or made them? Check out Lara Maiklem’s website and scroll to the bottom for a short film. And now I am thinking: maybe I can add mudlarking on the River Thames to my bucket list.
historicaresearch.com 