Bronze Age Collapse - Part 3: After the Storm – The World Reforged

The fall of the Late Bronze Age civilizations stands as one of the most significant and mysterious upheavals in ancient history. Once-thriving societies, known for their vast trade networks, monumental architecture, and bureaucratic governance, experienced a dramatic decline, leading to what is often termed a "Dark Age."

Terry Bailey explains.

Part 1 in the series is here and part 2 is here.

Alabaster Stela of the Asirian King Ashurnasirpal II (884-859 BC) - British Museum, with credit to and available from this link.

Across the eastern Mediterranean, major cities such as Mycenae, Ugarit, and Hattusa were either abandoned or greatly diminished. Writing systems disappeared, economies shrank, and long-established political structures crumbled, forcing surviving communities to adapt to a world of uncertainty.

Historians and archaeologists continue to investigate the causes behind this widespread collapse, with theories ranging from climate change and prolonged droughts to warfare, migration, and the breakdown of trade routes.

However, while this period was marked by hardship and regression, it also laid the foundation for new societies and cultural transformations. The emergence of the Philistines, Israelites, and Phoenicians, along with the eventual resurgence of Greek city-states, demonstrates that history is not solely a tale of decline but also of resilience and reinvention.

By examining the consequences of the Bronze Age Collapse, it is possible to gain valuable insight into the fragility of complex societies and the ability of human civilization to adapt in the face of crisis. The following discussion explores the demographic shifts, technological advancements, and cultural realignments that shaped the post-Bronze Age world, revealing how the collapse was not merely an end but also a new beginning.

The "Dark Age" and population declines

The centuries following the collapse of the Late Bronze Age are often referred to as a "Dark Age" due to the loss of large-scale social organization, literacy, and monumental architecture. Many cities were abandoned or dramatically reduced in size, including Mycenae, Ugarit, and Hattusa. In some regions, particularly Greece and Anatolia, evidence suggests significant population declines.

Archaeological data, such as soil core samples and pollen analysis, indicate a decline in agricultural output, likely exacerbated by climate changes, leading to food shortages. The Linear B script used by Mycenaean bureaucracies vanished, and writing would not return to Greece for centuries. Without strong central authorities, communities became smaller and more localized, often shifting toward subsistence farming rather than trade-driven economies.

New powers and cultural shifts

Despite the initial chaos, new powers and cultural developments emerged from the ruins, reshaping the ancient world. Ironworking became more widespread, eventually replacing bronze as the dominant metal for tools and weapons. Iron was more abundant and did not require the complex trade networks that bronze production demanded.

The shift to iron significantly changed warfare, as seen in early Iron Age sites like Philistine settlements where iron weapons appeared alongside pottery styles indicating Aegean influence.

The rise of new societies

The power vacuum left by the fallen Bronze Age empires allowed new groups to establish themselves:

Philistines, Israelites, and Arameans: Archaeological sites such as Tel Miqne-Ekron and Ashdod reveal Philistine settlements with distinct Mycenaean-style pottery, suggesting a migration from the Aegean. Meanwhile, the Israelites and Arameans emerged in the Levant, gradually forming distinct identities, as seen in the Merneptah Stele, which provides one of the earliest known references to Israel.

The Neo-Assyrian Empire: While Assyria suffered during the collapse, it re-emerged as a dominant force by the 10th century BCE, rebuilding its military strength and reasserting control over Mesopotamia.

The Phoenicians: With the collapse of major land-based powers, Phoenician city-states like Tyre and Sidon flourished as maritime traders. They developed an alphabet that would influence Greek and Latin scripts, leaving a lasting linguistic legacy.

The Greek Recovery: Greece slowly recovered from its Dark Age, leading to the Archaic period. The adoption of the Phoenician alphabet helped restore literacy, and early city-states (poleis) began to form, setting the stage for the Classical period.

Lessons from the Bronze Age collapse

The Bronze Age Collapse serves as a powerful case study of the fragility of interconnected civilizations. Archaeological and climate data show that a combination of factors, climate shifts, drought, economic instability, warfare, and social upheaval, can create cascading failures.

Parallels can be drawn with later collapses, such as the fall of Rome or economic depressions. The reliance on global trade, economic interdependence, and environmental factors remain crucial concerns for modern societies.

Therefore, the aftermath of the Bronze Age Collapse was a period of profound transformation. While the devastation led to a loss of centralized authority, economic downturns, and technological regression, it also paved the way for new social structures, innovations, and emerging powers that reshaped the ancient world. The decline of palace economies and long-distance trade routes forced societies to adapt, often turning to localized economies and alternative resources such as iron. In this way, what appeared to be an era of regression ultimately laid the groundwork for the next great civilizations.

The resurgence of powerful states like the Neo-Assyrian Empire and the rise of the Phoenicians as maritime traders highlight humanity's ability to recover and innovate in the face of adversity. The adaptation of the Phoenician alphabet by the Greeks is one example of how knowledge, even after a period of decline, can re-emerge and influence future generations. Similarly, the gradual revival of Greek city-states set the stage for one of the most influential cultural renaissances in history.

Perhaps the greatest lesson from the Bronze Age Collapse is the vulnerability of interconnected systems. The factors that led to its downfall, climate change, resource scarcity, warfare, and shifting trade networks, mirror challenges faced by modern global societies.

The fall of once-mighty kingdoms serves as a cautionary tale, reminding us that resilience and adaptation are essential for survival. The ancient world did not simply rebuild; it evolved, forging new identities, technologies, and institutions that would shape the course of history for centuries to come. By examining the past, it is possible to gain insight into the cycles of collapse and renewal that define human civilization. The world after the storm was not a return to the past but the birth of something new, a reforged world that carried the legacy of its predecessors while charting an uncharted path forward.

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Notes

The Merneptah Stele

The Merneptah Stele, also known as the Israel Stele, is a granite victory inscription commissioned by Pharaoh Merneptah (1213–1203 BCE), the son of Ramesses II. Discovered in 1896 by the British archaeologist Flinders Petrie at the mortuary temple of Merneptah in Thebes, Egypt, the stele commemorates the Pharaoh's military victories, particularly against the Libyans and various peoples in Canaan. The text is written in hieroglyphics and follows the tradition of Egyptian rulers glorifying their conquests. However, its historical significance extends far beyond Egyptian military exploits.

The most remarkable aspect of the Merneptah Stele is that it contains the earliest known extra-biblical reference to Israel. In the final lines of the inscription, Merneptah boasts that "Israel is laid waste, its seed is no more," suggesting that an entity called Israel was already established in Canaan by the late 13th century BCE. This makes the stele an invaluable artefact for biblical archaeology, in addition, and ancient Near Eastern history and archaeology, providing tangible evidence of Israel's presence in the region during this period. Unlike other groups mentioned in the stele, Israel is not described as a city or a kingdom but rather as a people, implying a semi-nomadic or tribal societal structure at the time.

The Merneptah Stele is critical in historical and biblical studies because it helps contextualize the origins of ancient Israel and its interactions with powerful neighboring civilizations. It also contributes to debates regarding the chronology of the Exodus, the early Israelites' settlement patterns, and their relationship with Egypt. Additionally, the stele sheds light on the geopolitical landscape of Canaan, confirming Egyptian military campaigns in the region. As one of the most significant inscriptions from ancient Egypt, it remains a key primary source for historians and archaeologists studying the Late Bronze Age and early Iron Age Near East.

The Small Town in the American Northeast with an Unfortunate Past

Here, Michael Leibrandt argues that the northeast area of the United States  is quite old – and has some fascinating stories. He looks at the story of Centralia, Pennsylvania.

A part of the Centralia mine fire as it was after being exposed during an excavation in 1969. Available here.

The northeast of the United States is old.  I’m not trying to create a mid-life crisis here — I’m talking about being historic. Although our nation is still considered relatively young compared to the rest of the world — we’ve got some definite historic architecture.

We’ve also got some rural areas that are downright eerie. Some of our fields have the occasional, well placed, 18th century weather-worn-and-wooden barns. Some of our cracked cement highways are traveled only infrequently. And our high-elevation mountains offer the perfect cover to conceal a castle worthy of Nosferatu himself.

With unmistakable parallels to the setting of the video game Silent Hill and some sixty miles northeast of Pennsylvania’s capitol of Harrisburg is the town of Centralia. At its height — Centralia’s population was about 3,000 in 1890 — but unlike other towns — something seemed loom over this mining town. 

Like many Pennsylvania communities — Centralia was incorporated right after the American Civil War in 1866 as a mining borough — its citizens and miners employed by the local Locust Mountain Coal and Iron Company — and the mine itself having opened in 1862.

The start

Centralia’s story begins when native Americans would sell their land around what would become the town to European Agents around 1749. In 1793 — Robert Morris who was not only signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776 but also was a hero in the Revolutionary War— acquired land in the valley around what would become the town. In 1868 — Alexander Rae who founded the town itself at the end of the Civil War — was brutally murdered by the Molly Maguires while en-route between Centralia and Mount Carmel. According to legend — the first Roman Catholic Priest to live in Centralia (Father Daniel Ignatius McDermott) was assaulted by several members of the Molly Maguires in 1869 and subsequently cursed the land around the town and proclaimed that nothing but the Church would eventually remain in Centralia. He ended up very close to being right.

In June of 1948 — just three years after the end of World War II — United Airlines Flight 624 traveling between San Diego and New York crashed into a mountain between the Pennsylvania towns of Aristes and Centralia. The plane went into descent before crashing. Residents of Centralia helped to bury the victims in St. Ignatius Cemetery.

Fire

But the event that would ultimately doom Centralia happened around Memorial Day of 1962 — when a crew doing a controlled burn of a landfill around Centralia did not extinguish the blaze and the fire seeped into an old mine shaft that was not properly sealed. Over the years — millions of dollars were spent by the federal government in attempts to extinguish the fire but every attempt found it to be much larger than originally thought or ran out of funds.

Over the years as snow melted quickly from the warm ground and smoke oozed from the rusted vents around the town — concerns grew about Centralia. In 1979 — then Mayor John Coddington was forced to close his gas station when fuel in the tanks began to boil underground. In 1981 — a twelve-year-old boy nearly died when he fell into a 100-foot sinkhole before being pulled out by his cousin. In 1993 — Pennsylvania bypassed route 61 — the main thoroughfare into town due to fire by the mine.

After millions were invested to extinguish the fire, Governor Bob Casey would claim eminent domain in 1992 which condemned all the borough’s structures. In 2009 — then Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell began evictions for the residents who remained. In 2002 — Centralia’s Postal Code was removed. Today — the Municipal Building doesn’t even bear Centralia’s name — the remnants of stone walkways indicate where homes used to be. The nearby town of Brynesville was completely vacated — today remaining only by a Shrine at the side of the road and an old garage.

Now the horror of what happened in Centralia has become historic. The remaining residents settled their lawsuit in 2013 — receiving $218,000 in as payment for their homes and the right to stay in their houses for the rest of their lives. After the residents are deceased —many of the houses constructed with those multiple-chimney looking support buttresses are demolished. When the last five residents are no longer with us as of the 2020 census — the town of Centralia — shrouded in a backdrop of steam — will be gone forever.

Michael Thomas Leibrandt lives and works in Abington Township, PA.

Chicago’s Prohibition Era North Side Wives

Being the wife of a wanted criminal in the 1920s was equal parts alluring and terrifying. You were constantly in danger, or at least your spouse was in danger of being shot on the street or “taken for a ride.” If you chose this life you were probably one of three kinds of woman. Someone who really had no clue what the man they loved did, chose to see what the man they loved did and pretended not to know about it or knew what they did and embraced it. For the most part women who married the bootleggers of prohibition turned a blind eye to their husband’s escapades for one reason or another. It took a special kind of personality, one that, it might be argued wasn’t that different from those that they were partners in life.

Erin Finlen explains.

Images to click on before you start:

George Moran and Lucille: https://images.app.goo.gl/nTCYpeTnHW1Qt6bHA

Cecelia Drucci: https://images.app.goo.gl/agLdrHV5DAwHnTpX6

Hymie Weiss and Josephine Simard: https://images.app.goo.gl/XD61BpZUuxECbdXq7

Dean O'Banion and Viola: https://images.app.goo.gl/WKR137gBQypWFiRD9

Viola O’Banion

Viola O’Banion was born Viola Kaniff in Chicago, Illinois on March 27,1901. When she was school age she went to boarding or finishing school in Iowa. She was home on her Christmas break in December of 1920 and she and some girlfriends went to cafe on the North Side, where she caught the eye of Dean O’Banion. Viola could be described as the female of version of her husband. She had dark blond hair and blue eyes and an infectious attitude and penchant for trouble. She radiated a joy for life. Dean was instantly in love and the two were married in February of 1921.

There is a real possibility that Viola had no idea her husband was in the bootlegging business. She even told a reporter who came to visit O’Banion when he was under house arrest pending the trial for the murder of John Duffy that there was no way he could have done it, the police just didn’t like him.

The two vacationed together on the infamous trip where Dean is credited with finding the Tommy Gun and ordering some to be brought to Chicago, but there is no reason to suggest that she was involved with his criminal activities in anyway. When Dean was murdered she claimed that the only reason he ever carried a gun was for protection in the dangerous city, something Dean could have told her and she probably believed, it was a plausible reason in the city where money controlled the cops and the money was controlled by the gangsters. For better or worse the pair were a good match and both loved each other dearly. Viola would never be quite the same after his death.

That’s not to say that she was lost her mischievous streak by any means. In 1926, she married a man on a dare only to discover he was already married and promptly divorce him. In 1929, she was arrested for driving over 66 mph through a residential neighborhood and using the sidewalks as well, an activity that her late husband had also engaged in. Then, in 1934 she watched as her sister jumped off a bridge. When her sister was rescued she accompanied her to the county hospital. They refused to say why her sister was in the water and Mrs. O’Banion Carter, as the papers called her, answered with, “I don’t like the police and we were just celebrating a wedding.” A dislike and distrust of policeman and a joyful outlook on life made her the perfect and possibly blind eyed wife to Dean O’Banion and his gangland kingdom.

Josephine Simard

For the purposes of this article I am going to call Josephine the fiancé of Hymie Weiss, splitting her version of events and what can be proven cleanly down the middle. Marie Josephine Simard was, like Dean and Viola, a bubbly outgoing young woman who was born on October 23, 1902 in Massachusetts. She joined the Ziegfeld Follies in New York City, a comedy troupe of chorus girls, who were considered risqué at the time, and in the fall of 1925, the tour was visiting Chicago where she met Earl “Hymie” Weiss. It’s probable that the vivacious personality of Simard was what drew him to her, she brought out the good side of the otherwise angry, violent, and serious man, a much needed light after the death of his best friend the year before.

There is a lot of speculation about the relationship that the pair actually had. Josephine said that she spent the happiest days of her life to that point with Weiss, that even though he was a bootlegger he enjoyed quiet nights at home with her and that if you didn’t know who he was you would never guess. At no point did she hide that she knew what he did or who he was, instead she said it didn’t matter because she loved him. Their friends all said that they were very happy together and a picture of the two in Miami, Florida taken between the winter of 1925 and fall 1926 shows an extremely happy couple. They were reported to have heated arguments but only because, as Rose Keefe says in her book, The Man Who Got Away, they were such different personalities. The famous scene in the 1931 film, The Public Enemy, where James Cagney shoves a grape fruit in Mae West’s face supposedly came from an incident where Weiss shoved an omelet in Josephine’s face because she was talking too much early in the morning.

According to Josephine, the pair were so in love that they eloped in Florida in the winter of 1925, but she was never able to provide a marriage certificate, saying that Weiss had a priest brought to their room. Stating that she was his widow, she insisted that she had a right to his estate when he died. His mother and the executor of his will, Mary Weiss was not having it, going so far as to have her son in law, James Philip Monahan go get the car that Weiss had bought for her. The pair faced off in probate court, no small feat for the Follies Girl, since all signs point to Mary Weiss being a fierce woman who didn’t back down from a fight. The case was eventually dismissed. It is worth noting that Weiss was meticulous about his will. It makes sense seeing as he had terminal cancer. If the marriage was legally binding it’s doubtful that he would have neglected to add her to it.

She never hid who she had married. Her second husband, Samuel Marx, remembered her as crying a lot when they met due to losing Weiss. For Simard it was either love or money that kept her with Weiss, not a notion that he wasn’t the bootlegging kingpin that he was. Most people at the time said it was the money, but from her heartfelt statement after his death, it’s clear she loved him dearly.

Cecilia Drucci

The wife of Vincent Drucci is actually harder to track than her husband. In fact, she is downright impossible to find any factual information on. There is no record of their marriage until she says at his funeral that they gave him a swell send off and yet, if you were to think of the kind of woman Drucci were to marry, it would be Cecilia.

There isn’t much know about her, besides that she was blond and feisty. There is an anecdote that sees her threatening a dinner guest with a butchers knife. When a dressmaker was telling people that Drucci had robbed her store, he showed up with an unknown blond woman and told her to teach the woman a lesson. The woman turned the shop over and Drucci herded the customers to the backroom before the pair fled in a taxi. There is a chance that this woman was Cecilia. Although, blond doesn’t tell us much. While his friends were faithful to their partners once they found them, Drucci was not and was reputed to have a different blond on his arm every night.

When Drucci was buried his wife said “We sure gave him a swell send off,” and then disappeared without a trace. There isn’t much to tell about her but Cecelia Drucci exemplifies the woman who worked alongside her husband in the Chicago Underworld.

Lucille Moran

George Moran’s wife is not Cecilia Drucci nor is she Viola O’Banion. However, neither does she quite fit the same mold as Josephine Simard. She wasn’t a high strung, quick tempered moll, a naive young lady who had no idea what her husband did and she also wasn’t as willing to pretend that Moran didn’t have a criminal record that he was actively adding to during their marriage. She loved and supported her husband and knew what he was to the Chicago Underworld, it was less important to her though than the fact that he was a good husband and a great father to her child.

Born in 1899, Lucille was a recently divorced mother of one when she met George, in 1923. He was instantly smitten with her according to their love story and, while she was at first worried that he wouldn’t accept her son, Moran was just as infatuated with him. The boy spoke French, which Moran had grown up speaking and helped him learn English.

Though he seems to have been an ideal partner there was no hiding what he did for a living, especially when he was arrested on suspicion of attempting to assassinate Johnny Torrio. After that he moved to a hotel and when Weiss was assassinated in 1926, he was arrested there after he left the funeral without telling anyone and rumors abounded as to his future plans. Lucille was supportive, loving and there for every step of her husband’s life, even picking him up when he was released on bail or watching in court. Then, in 1929, the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre happened. She had to wait for news that he was alive and then he fled to Canada, leaving her and her son at the hotel, to be watched over by his underlings. When he returned, she tried to remain just as strong as she had been but after another trial in 1930, Moran was advised to leave Illinois all together and she had had enough. She decided that she couldn’t live like that anymore and served him divorce papers.

And they all lived…

Well, not happily ever after. The life of the women who called a gangster her husband was high stress and fraught with danger, whether they accepted it or not. Of the four women discussed only one didn’t see her marriage end in tragedy and it was the scare of doing so that made her finally pull the trigger on her divorce (so to speak). Viola, Josephine, Cecilia and Lucille were also, strangely, all perfect fits for the men they married, at least from a historical perspective. Viola and Dean, fun loving partners in life with hot tempers and a disrespect for the law. Josephine and Earl, volatile, quick tempered people who balanced each other out and brought out the best in each other. Cecilia and Vincent, who were so alike as to be almost uncanny. George and Lucille, each there for each other when they were needed, level headed and perseverant. Four different couples and four different but intriguing female figures of the 1920s.

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Sources

Binder, J. J. (2017). Al Capone’s Beer wars: A Complete History of Organized Crime in Chicago During Prohibition. Prometheus Books.

Burns, W. N. (1931). The one-way ride: The Red Trail of Chicago Gangland from Prohibition to Jake Lingle.

Keefe, R. (2003). Guns and roses: The Untold Story of Dean O’Banion, Chicago’s Big Shot Before Al Capone. Turner Publishing Company.

Keefe, R. (2005). The Man who Got Away: The Bugs Moran Story : a Biography. Cumberland House Publishing.

My Al Capone Museum. (n.d.). https://myalcaponemuseum.com/

Sullivan, E. D. (1929). Rattling the cup on Chicago crime.

Bronze Age Collapse - Part 2: The Great Upheaval and Cause of the Collapse

The world of the Late Bronze Age was a dazzling network of powerful civilizations, bound together by trade, diplomacy, and shared technologies. As discussed in Part 1, the Hittites, Egyptians, Mycenaeans, and other major powers created an interconnected web of prosperity. Yet, by the end of the 12th century BCE, this world had crumbled. Entire cities lay in ruins, societies disintegrated, and long-established empires vanished from history. But what caused this collapse?

To understand the causes it is important to explore the intricate and interwoven factors of environmental shifts, economic turmoil, military upheaval, and technological transitions, that created a perfect storm of crises, leading to one of the most dramatic periods of decline in human history.

Terry Bailey explains.

Part 1 in the series is here.

The Sea Peoples in ships during battle with the Egyptians. A depiction of a relief from the mortuary temple of Ramesses III at Medinet Habu.

Environmental and climatic factors

Archaeological and palaeo-climatic evidence suggests that a series of severe droughts struck the Eastern Mediterranean during the late 13th and early 12th centuries BCE. Tree-ring analysis from Anatolia and pollen records from the Levant indicate a sharp decline in precipitation, leading to failed harvests and widespread famine.

Lake sediments from Cyprus and the Dead Sea further corroborate this period of prolonged aridity. The Hittite and Egyptian records refer to grain shortages, hinting at growing food insecurity. The effects were catastrophic. Urban centers, which relied on stable agricultural output, suffered devastating food shortages, leading to depopulation, internal strife, and mass migrations. Trade routes became unstable as hunger forced people to move in search of sustenance, disrupting long-established economic patterns. In some cases, entire regions were abandoned, as evidenced by the decline of once-thriving settlements such as Emar in Syria.

Economic decline and trade disruptions

The Late Bronze Age economy depended on complex international trade networks that supplied essential raw materials. Bronze, the defining metal of the age, required a steady supply of copper and tin, elements that were often sourced from distant locations. When trade routes collapsed, so too did bronze production, crippling military and economic stability.

Archaeological evidence from Ugarit, a major trading hub, shows that it was suddenly cut off from its usual trading partners before its destruction. Communications discovered in the ruins of Ugarit describe desperate appeals for aid and warnings of impending disaster. With trade in disarray, central authorities struggled to maintain control.

Inflation and food shortages led to social unrest, as documented in letters from the Egyptian pharaohs lamenting the high cost of grain. The economic strain may have contributed to weakened state institutions, making them more vulnerable to internal and external threats.

Warfare and invasions

Perhaps the most dramatic element of the Bronze Age Collapse was the wave of invasions and destruction that swept through the region. Chief among the aggressors was the enigmatic Sea Peoples, a confederation of warriors who attacked numerous cities across the Eastern Mediterranean. Egyptian inscriptions, such as those at Medinet Habu from the reign of Ramesses III, describe these seaborne raiders in battle, detailing their destruction of cities and their attempt to invade Egypt itself.

Other major powers suffered even worse fates. The Hittite capital, Hattusa, was destroyed and abandoned, with no later reoccupation, signaling the total collapse of the Hittite Empire. The Mycenaean palaces in Greece were burned and abandoned, leading to a centuries-long decline in Greek civilization. The fall of Ugarit, documented in a final letter from its last ruler, shows the sudden and brutal nature of these attacks.

The military infrastructure of these states was not prepared for such upheaval. Internal revolts, possibly by oppressed lower classes or mercenaries, further destabilized the already-weakened polities. The sheer scale and synchronization of these invasions suggest a combination of external aggression and internal fracturing.

Technological and military shifts

The changing nature of warfare may have also contributed to the collapse. The Late Bronze Age was dominated by chariot-based armies, which required large logistical support, training, and infrastructure. However, as societies became weaker and trade disruptions limited access to high-quality materials, the effectiveness of chariot warfare declined.

At the same time, iron weaponry began to spread. While the transition from bronze to iron took time, some groups may have gained an advantage through the use of iron tools and weapons. The Philistines, a possible subset of the Sea Peoples, appear to have been early adopters of ironworking technology.

Archaeological sites such as Ashkelon have revealed early iron artefacts, suggesting a gradual but significant shift in military capabilities. Additionally, shifts in military recruitment weakened traditional armies. Many rulers relied on foreign mercenaries, whose loyalty could be fickle. The breakdown of centralized authority may have meant that these warriors turned against their employers, contributing to the cycle of instability.

The domino effect - Civilization in freefall

Once the collapse began, it rapidly spread across the Eastern Mediterranean. The destruction of key trade centers led to further economic and political breakdowns, creating a cascading effect. Archaeological evidence shows that entire regions were depopulated. In Greece, the Mycenaean palace complexes, including Pylos and Tiryns, were burned and abandoned. The Hittite heartland became a wasteland, and Ugarit ceased to exist.

Egypt, while surviving, emerged from the crisis in a weakened state. Ramesses III's inscriptions claim victory over the Sea Peoples, but Egypt's empire shrank dramatically. The loss of territories in Canaan and the Levant marked the beginning of a long decline for the New Kingdom.

The knowledge and administrative skills that had supported these civilizations were also lost. The collapse of writing systems, such as Linear B in Greece, marks a regression in literacy and bureaucratic administration. The world of vast interconnected states gave way to small, isolated communities struggling to rebuild.

The end of an era and birth of the New World

The collapse of the Late Bronze Age was not the result of a single catastrophic event but rather a convergence of multiple, interwoven crises that overwhelmed even the most powerful civilizations of the era. Environmental stress, economic disintegration, military upheaval, and technological transitions combined to create an unprecedented period of societal collapse.

Severe droughts led to widespread famine, weakening the agricultural and trade-based economies that had sustained the great empires. The disruption of trade routes not only crippled industries dependent on essential resources like tin and copper but also destabilized political structures, as rulers struggled to maintain control over increasingly desperate populations.

At the same time, waves of invasions and internal revolts further shattered these fragile societies. The arrival of the Sea Peoples marked the final blow for many city-states, while the fall of the Mycenaean palaces, the destruction of Hattusa, and the obliteration of Ugarit signaled the disintegration of long-standing power centers. The changing nature of warfare marked by the decline of chariot-based armies and the slow but inevitable rise of iron weaponry ushered in a new era, leaving behind the remnants of a world once dominated by bronze.

The aftermath of the collapse reshaped the geopolitical landscape of the Eastern Mediterranean. Egypt, though it survived, never regained its former dominance. The once-mighty Hittites disappeared entirely, while the Greek world plunged into centuries of economic and cultural regression. The loss of centralized administration, literacy, and trade networks meant that knowledge, technology, and governance had to be rebuilt almost from scratch.

However, from this period of darkness, new societies eventually emerged. The Phoenicians, the Israelites, and the early Greek city-states would rise from the ruins, laying the groundwork for the Iron Age civilizations that followed.

Ultimately, the great upheaval of the Late Bronze Age is a solid indication of the fragility of complex societies. It serves as a powerful reminder that even the most interconnected and prosperous civilizations are vulnerable to the cascading effects of environmental stress, economic turmoil, and military conflict. While the Bronze Age world may have vanished, its legacy endures in the lessons it offers about resilience, adaptation, and the ever-changing nature of human history.

In Part 3, we will explore the aftermath of the collapse: how survivors rebuilt, what new civilizations rose from the ashes, and how the lessons of the Bronze Age Collapse continue to resonate in history today.

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Notes:

The sea people

The Sea Peoples were a confederation of maritime raiders and invaders who played a significant role in the collapse of several major civilizations during the late Bronze Age (circa 1200 BCE). As indicated in the main text, these groups attacked and contributed to the downfall of powerful states such as the Hittite Empire, Mycenaean Greece, and the Egyptian New Kingdom. The origins and identity of the Sea Peoples remain a topic of intense scholarly debate, as they left no written records of their own, and much of what is known comes from Egyptian and other contemporary sources, particularly inscriptions by Pharaoh Ramesses III, which potentially could be tainted with bias.

One prevailing theory suggests that the Sea Peoples were not a single unified culture but rather a coalition of various displaced or migratory groups. The upheavals of the late Bronze Age, including climate change, famine, internal strife, and the collapse of trade networks, may have forced numerous populations to seek new lands and resources, leading to waves of seaborne invasions. Among the names recorded in Egyptian sources, such as the Medjay, Sherden, Lukka, and Peleset (often identified with the Philistines), it is possible that the Sea Peoples included displaced Mycenaeans, Anatolian groups fleeing the collapse of the Hittite Empire, and even people from the central Mediterranean, such as Sardinia or Sicily.

Archaeological and textual evidence suggests that the Sea Peoples were both warriors and settlers, with some groups integrating into the societies they attacked. For example, the Peleset are thought to have settled in Canaan, eventually forming the Philistine culture. Other groups may have contributed to the cultural and demographic shifts that marked the transition from the Bronze Age to the early Iron Age.

While their exact origins remain elusive, the Sea Peoples are best understood as a diverse and fluid collection of migrants, adventurers, and raiders whose actions reshaped the ancient Mediterranean world.

Bronze Age Collapse - Part 1: The World Before the Collapse – A Flourishing Civilization

The Bronze Age, 3000 - 1200 BCE, marked a period of remarkable human progress. Across the Mediterranean and Near East, great civilizations flourished, building empires, advancing technology, and creating extensive trade networks. This era was defined by the widespread use of bronze, an alloy of copper and tin, which revolutionized warfare, agriculture, and craftsmanship.

Yet, around 1200 - 1150 BCE, a cataclysmic event known as the Bronze Age Collapse brought many of these civilizations to their knees. Cities burned, trade routes crumbled, and once-powerful kingdoms disappeared from history. Understanding this collapse is crucial because it reshaped the ancient world, leading to the emergence of new societies and altering the course of human development.

Terry Bailey explains.

A depiction of Ramesses II triumphing over the Hittites in the siege of Dapur. Available here.

Major civilizations & political structures

Egypt (New Kingdom)

At its height, Egypt's (New Kingdom) 1550 -1070 BCE, was a formidable empire stretching from Nubia to the Levant. Pharaohs such as Thutmose III, Amenhotep III, and Ramesses II expanded Egypt's influence through military conquest and diplomacy. Monumental structures like the Karnak Temple and Abu Simbel reflected Egypt's immense wealth and power. However, by the 12th century BCE, Egypt faced increasing pressure from external invasions, particularly from the enigmatic Sea Peoples.

The Hittite Empire

Centered in Anatolia (modern-day Turkey), the Hittite Empire 1600 - 1180 BCE, rivalled Egypt in power. The Hittites controlled key trade routes and were masters of chariot warfare. Their capital, Hattusa, contained vast archives of cuneiform texts that provided insight into their administration and military campaigns. However, the empire struggled with internal strife and external threats, weakening its ability to resist the upheavals to come.

Mycenaean Greece

The Mycenaeans 1600 - 1100 BCE, dominated the Greek mainland and the Aegean. They were warrior-kings who built impressive palatial centers such as Mycenae, Pylos, and Tiryns. The deciphered Linear B script reveals a highly organized bureaucratic system managing agriculture, taxation, and military affairs. The legendary Trojan War, though mythologized by Homer, likely reflects real Mycenaean involvement in conflicts across the eastern Mediterranean.

Minoan Crete

The Minoans, 2000 - 1450 BCE, predated and influenced Mycenaean Greece. Though their dominance declined following natural disasters and invasions, Minoan culture persisted in Mycenaean Crete. The palace of Knossos, with its vibrant frescoes and labyrinthine corridors, stands as a testament to its artistic and architectural prowess.

Babylonia & Assyria

The Mesopotamian world was dominated by Babylonia and Assyria. Babylonia (under the Kassites) thrived as a center of learning and law, preserving the traditions of Hammurabi. Assyria, meanwhile, grew into a militaristic powerhouse. Both states relied on complex administrative systems documented in vast collections of cuneiform tablets.

Canaanite City-States

Canaanite city-states, such as Ugarit and Byblos, were crucial trade hubs linking Egypt, Mesopotamia, and the Aegean. Excavations at Ugarit have unearthed extensive archives detailing commercial transactions and diplomatic correspondence, illustrating the interconnectedness of Bronze Age societies.

The Sea Peoples and other marginal societies

By the late Bronze Age, a mysterious confederation known as the Sea Peoples began raiding coastal settlements. Their origins remain debated, but they contributed to widespread devastation, particularly in Egypt and the Levant. Other groups, such as the nomadic Arameans, also began challenging established powers.

Economic & cultural achievements

Trade networks: The lifeblood of civilization

Trade was the backbone of the Bronze Age economy. Copper from Cyprus and tin from Afghanistan and Cornwall, (a region within what is now known as Great Britain), were essential for bronze production. Ships laden with goods crisscrossed the Mediterranean, linking civilizations in a vast commercial web. The Uluburun shipwreck, discovered off the coast of Turkey, provides a snapshot of this trade, carrying goods from Egypt, Mycenae, Canaan, and Anatolia.

Writing systems: Record-keeping and administration

Writing systems such as Linear B (used by the Mycenaeans), cuneiform (Mesopotamia), and hieroglyphs (Egypt) were vital for governance, trade, and literature. The clay tablet archives of Hattusa and Ugarit offer invaluable records of diplomatic agreements and economic activity.

Monumental architecture and art

The era saw grand architectural feats, from Egyptian temples to Mycenaean citadels. Art flourished, depicting religious rituals, military exploits, and daily life in vivid frescoes and sculptures.

Military strategists and technology

Bronze weaponry, chariots, and composite bows revolutionized warfare. Fortifications, such as the massive walls of Mycenae, showcased advancements in defensive architecture.

Signs of weakness before the fall

Climate fluctuations and early signs of drought

Paleo-climatic studies indicate that the Late Bronze Age experienced episodes of drought, possibly disrupting agriculture and weakening states reliant on food surplus.

Overextension of Empires

Many kingdoms expanded beyond their sustainable limits, placing immense strain on resources and administration. The Hittites, for example, struggled to maintain control over their vast territories.

Internal revolts and instability

Evidence from cuneiform records and archaeological layers of destruction suggests that internal conflicts weakened several states before the final collapse.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the Bronze Age was a golden era of human civilization, one of technological ingenuity, political complexity, and flourishing trade. It was a time when great empires such as Egypt, the Hittites, and Mycenaean Greece extended their influence through diplomacy, warfare, and economic expansion. The Mediterranean and Near East were interconnected in ways that foreshadowed the globalized economies of later millennia. However, this intricate web of civilizations proved fragile when faced with a perfect storm of challenges.

The collapse that followed between 1200 and 1150 BCE was not a singular event but a cascading failure of societies already weakened by climate fluctuations, internal strife, and overextension. The arrival of the enigmatic Sea Peoples was only one piece of a larger puzzle, migrations, famines, and political upheavals all played a role in dismantling the old world order. The once-thriving palaces of Mycenae, the archives of Hattusa, and the great cities of Canaan were reduced to ruins, signaling the end of an age.

Yet, from this collapse emerged new foundations for the civilizations that followed, which were not merely a period of decline but one of transformation. The rise of new powers, such as the Neo-Assyrians and later the Greek city-states, laid the groundwork for the Iron Age, ushering in fresh innovations and cultural shifts. The lessons of the Bronze Age collapse remind us of the fragility of interconnected societies, and the resilience of human civilization to rebuild, adapt, and evolve.

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Notes:

Fall of Troy

The fall of Troy, known in ancient Greek as Ίλιος (Ilios), is estimated to have occurred around the late Bronze Age, with modern scholars often placing it between 1250 BCE and 1180 BCE. This timeframe is derived from archaeological excavations at the site of Hisarlık in modern-day Turkey, which is widely believed to be the historical Troy.

The most accepted dating suggests that Troy VIIa, a layer of destruction at the site, aligns with the traditional period of the Trojan War. Evidence of fire, siege, and violent collapse at this level supports the idea of a catastrophic event, though whether it corresponds precisely to the war described by Homer remains debated.

Homer's Iliad, composed around the 8th century BCE, presents the war as a grand narrative of honor, heroism, and divine intervention rather than a precise historical account. The epic revolves around the wrath of Ἀχιλλεύς (Achilleus, Achilles) and the siege of Troy, but it does not depict the city's fall.

The Iliad ends before the infamous Trojan Horse ruse and the final destruction. In this sense, Homer's version serves more as a metaphorical exploration of Troy as a symbol of human ambition, conflict, and fate rather than a strict retelling of events. The war, as depicted, is as much about the cultural and moral struggles of the Greek world as it is about an actual historical conflict.

The actual fall of Troy likely involved a prolonged siege, resource depletion, and internal strife rather than the singular dramatic deception of the Trojan Horse, which appears in later literary traditions such as The Aeneid by Virgil.

Archaeology suggests that the city was indeed destroyed and rebuilt multiple times, reinforcing the idea that Troy was both a historical location and a mythological and literary construct, shaped over centuries to reflect the values and anxieties of the Greek world.

The literal translation of the Iliad

The actual literal translation of Ἰλιάς (Ilias), pertaining to Ilium, the ancient name for the city of Troy, comes from Ilios(Ἴλιος), an alternate Greek name for Troy. In essence, Ilias means "The Story of Ilium" or "The Tale of Troy." The commonly used English title, The Iliad, follows this meaning, signifying Homer's epic poem about the Trojan War.

Egyptian chronology

The chronology of ancient Egypt is often adjusted due to the challenges associated with reconstructing a timeline from fragmentary and sometimes contradictory evidence. Unlike modern calendars, the Egyptians used a regnal-year dating system, meaning events were recorded based on the number of years a particular pharaoh had ruled. When records of a pharaoh's reign are incomplete or lost, historians must rely on other methods, such as archaeological evidence, astronomical calculations, and synchronization with other ancient civilizations, to estimate dates. This can lead to revisions when discoveries alter previous assumptions.

One major reason for adjustments is the reliance on astronomical data, particularly references to the heliacal rising of the star Sirius (Sothis), which the Egyptians used to track their calendar. However, because their calendar lacked leap years, it drifted relative to the solar year, creating inconsistencies when trying to correlate it with absolute dates. Additionally, king lists and inscriptions from different sources, such as the Turin King List, the Palermo Stone, and Manetho's history, sometimes conflict or contain gaps, requiring scholars to reinterpret the evidence.

Furthermore, ancient Egypt's interactions with neighboring civilizations, such as the Hittites, Babylonians, and Assyrians, provide external synchronization that can refine its chronology. However, as these civilizations’ chronologies are revised, Egypt's timeline must sometimes be adjusted accordingly. Advances in radiocarbon dating and dendrochronology (tree-ring dating) have also provided new insight that occasionally challenges traditional historical dating, leading to further refinements in Egypt's timeline. Consequently, Egyptian chronology remains a dynamic field, continually updated as new evidence emerges.

American Isolationism is Back Again - A Historical View

David Hamilton’s forthcoming book The Enigmatic Aviator: Charles Lindbergh Revisited  finds earlier parallels with current events and looks at the ever-changing verdict on Lindbergh.

Here, the author considers American isolationism in the context of his new book.

Charles Lindbergh shown receiving the Distinguished Flying Cross from President Calvin Coolidge in June 1927.

The American Founding Fathers counseled that the nation should ‘avoid foreign entanglements’, and President Trump's recent hesitation in support of Ukraine brings back memories of earlier similar debates. In the 1930s, the mood in Congress and the country was that American involvement in World War I had been a mistake and had not only failed to make the world ‘safe for democracy,’ but too many lives had been lost or damaged. But by 1940, President Roosevelt started to try to convince America to get involved in the new war in Europe. Public opinion was divided, and although there was majority support for giving help of some kind to beleaguered Britain, the polls were against putting ‘boots on the ground’. Leading the opposition to such deeper involvement was the America First Committee (AFC), the most significant grassroots movement ever in America, and they preferred the term ‘anti-intervention’, which did not suggest total withdrawal from the rest of the world. The AFC had the most support in the Midwest, while FDR and his hawks in the cabinet had the backing of the anglophile East Coast. The AFC had bipartisan political support and was joined by writers and historians. Eventually, their star speaker at the regular nationwide rallies was the American aviator hero Charles Lindbergh (1902-1974). After his famous solo flight to Paris from New York in 1927, he had retained a remarkable mystique since he coupled his success in the world of commercial aviation with a policy of avoiding the still-intrusive press, particularly the tabloids, by using the European royalty’s strategy of ‘never complain never explain.’ He traveled widely in Britain, France, Germany, and Russia and proudly showed their military planes; it was his confidential reports via the Berlin American embassy back to G2 intelligence in Washington on the Luftwaffe strength that eventually convinced President Roosevelt in 1938 to order a rapid expansion of the American Air Corps. From 1939, Lindbergh added his voice to the anti-intervention movement, starting with historically based, closely argued radio broadcasts and then speeches at the large AFC rallies later. His emergence was doubly uncomfortable for FDR. He not only feared Lindbergh’s contribution to the debate but knew that his close connection to the Republican Party (including marrying Mexican ambassador Dwight Morrow’s daughter) meant he could be a formable populist political opponent should he run for president, as many had urged. In response, FDR and his inner cabinet, aided by compliant congressmen and friendly columnists, mounted an unpleasant campaign against Lindbergh, and, rarely debating the issues he raised, they preferred an ad hominemattack. His travels in Germany and interest in the Luftwaffe made him vulnerable, and the jibes included but were not limited to, claiming he was a Nazi, a fifth columnist, an antisemite, a quisling, and even, mysteriously, a fellow traveler.

World War Two

It is often said that Lindbergh and the AFC lost the intervention argument to FDR, but instead, Pearl Harbor brought abrupt closure to the still evenly balanced debate. Thereafter, during the War, Lindbergh worked in the commercial aviation sector and then flew 50 distinguished missions with the Marines in the Pacific. After FDR’s death, the unpleasantness of the intervention debate was admitted and regretted (‘there was a war going on’), and some private apologies reached Lindbergh. Even the FBI was contrite. FDR had brought them in to investigate Lindbergh, even using illegal wiretaps. Still, when J. Edgar Hoover closed their huge file on him, he added a summary saying that ‘none of the earlier allegations had any substance.’

Lindbergh was welcomed back into the post-war military world. As a Cold War warrior, he worked with the atomic bomb air squadrons and served on crucial ballistic missile planning committees. From the mid-1950s, he successfully took up many conservation issues. Now a national icon again, but a reclusive one, his book on the Paris flight and the book sold well. From Truman’s administration onwards, he was in favor of the White House, and the Kennedys sought the Lindbergh’s company, invitations which the couple occasionally accepted. Now, on the White House’s social A-list, Nixon also puts him on important conservation committees. When he died in 1974, President Ford expressed national sympathy. Later, Reagan’s addresses to young people often invoked Lindbergh as a role model.

Lindbergh disparaged

But by the end of the century, something changed, and his place in history became uncertain. This was not the result of new scholarly work or an adverse biography. All the post-war literature had been favorable to him, including Berg’s thorough Pulitzer Prize-winning biography of 1998, which cleared him of any Nazi leanings or antisemitism.[1] The damage to Lindbergh instead came from historical fiction. The basis of Philip Roth’s best-selling novel The Plot Against America 2004 was the well-worn ‘what if’ fictional trope that Hitler won the European war. Lindbergh, elected as US president, aligns with him and acts against the Jews. Roth's usual disclaimer was that his story was not to be taken seriously, but it was. Historical fiction can be entertaining if the sales are low and the author obscure, but the inventions can be dangerous in the hands of a distinguished author. An HBO television series of the same name based on the book followed in 2020, and it often felt like a documentary. Serious-minded reviewers of the television series took the opportunity to reflect widely on fascism and antisemitism, with Lindbergh still featured as a central figure. The mood at the time was ‘wonkish,’ looking again at figures of the past and seeking feet of clay or swollen heads, or both. When others sought any justification for Roth’s allegations, they returned and found the smears and insults directed at Lindbergh during the intervention debate. The old 1940-1941 jibes were revisited, and, yielding to presentism, to the dreary list was added the charge of ‘white supremacist,’ which at the time had escaped even Lindbergh’s most vocal opponents. Evidence for all the old labels was lacking, and to prove them, corners were cut even by serious historians, leading to a regrettable number of mangled or false quotations. The most vivid tampering with the historical record was misusing a newspaper picture taken at an AFC rally in 1941. It shows Lindbergh and the platform party with arms raised, and the caption at the time noted that they were loyally saluting the flag. The gesture at that time was the so-called Bellamy salute which was soon officially discouraged and changed in 1942 to the present hand-on-heart version because of its similarity to the Nazi salute.  Washington’s Smithsonian Institution was now revisiting Lindbergh, and although they had proudly used Lindbergh’s plane Spirit of St Louis as their star exhibit since 1928, they had now deserted him. An article in their Smithsonian Magazine, after denigrating the AFC, described Lindbergh as ‘patently a bigot’ and used the image suggesting a Nazi salute.[2] The Minnesota Historical Society, also with long-standing links to the Lindbergh heritage, also turned to him and answered inquiries about Lindbergh by directing them mainly to the Roth novel and the television program based on it. They also recommended a shrill new book on Lindbergh subtitled ‘America’s Most Infamous Pilot.’. Lindbergh had not been ‘infamous’ until 2004.

The 100th anniversary of Lindbergh's classic flight will be with us soon in 2027. The damage done by Roth’s mischievous historical fiction should be met instead with good evidence-based history, restoring the story of this talented man.

David Hamilton is a retired Scottish transplant surgeon. His interest in Lindbergh came from the aviator’s laboratory work as a volunteer in Nobel Prize-winner transplant surgeon Carrel’s laboratory in New York.[3]  His forthcoming book is The Enigmatic Aviator: Charles Lindbergh.

[1] A. Scott Berg, Lindbergh (New York, 1998).

[2] Meilan Solly ‘The True History Behind ‘The Plot Against America’’

Smithsonian Magazine, 16 March 2020.

[3]   David Hamilton, The First Transplant Surgeon (World Scientific, 2017).

Audrey Hepburn in World War Two

One of the most devastating conflicts in history, the Second World War, touched the lives of millions, its impact also played a huge role in the life of Oscar winning actress, and beloved style icon, Audrey Hepburn. Audrey’s early life was spent in Holland in the midst of the Nazi Occupation where she witnessed the best and worst of humanity, and developed the ideals that would influence her later life.

Erin Bienvenu explains.

Audrey Hepburn in 1952. Available here.

Audrey was born in Brussels, Belgium, on May 4 1929, to an English father and Dutch mother. Her mother, Ella van Heemstra, was from an aristocratic family, and already had two sons from a previous marriage, Alexander and Ian. She had met Joseph in the Dutch East Indies. Through a genealogy study, she believed her husband was a descendant of James Hepburn, the third husband of Mary Queen of Scots. Excited by this royal connection Ella insisted the family adopt the name ‘Hepburn-Ruston.’

When Audrey was six her father walked out on his family, an event that would haunt her for the rest of her life. He returned to England, where Audrey was also sent to school. Despite their close proximity Joseph never visited his young daughter and the lonely Audrey immersed herself in the world of ballet. It enriched her life and she was determined to become a prima ballerina.

War Begins

Audrey’s life was uprooted once again when the Nazi’s invaded Poland, and Britain declared war. Ella believed her daughter would be safer in Holland, which had a history of neutrality, and genuinely thought that Hitler would respect the countries stance.  Audrey was driven to the airport by her father, it was to be the last time she would see him until she was an adult.

Little Audrey had largely forgotten how to speak Dutch during her time away, and she found school difficult, again dance became her escape. She lived with her mother and brothers in Arnhem, where they were close to extended family.

All hopes of safety were dashed when the Nazis invaded the Netherlands in May 1940. At first, Audrey remembered, life seemed to go on as normal. The soldiers behaved politely in an attempt to win over the Dutch people. Audrey continued to go to school, though her lessons increasingly became focussed on the war and Nazism. That same year Audrey enrolled in the local dance school, where her teachers were impressed with her passion and gracefulness.

Despite their initial conciliatory behaviour, the Nazis soon revealed their true colours and life for the citizens of Arnhem began to change. Food was rationed, and day to day life became increasingly dangerous. Audrey’s brother Alexander was determined not to be forced into work by the Germans and he went into hiding, Ian however was not as lucky. To his family’s immense distress, he was rounded up and forced to work in a Berlin munitions factory.

Audrey was also a witness, on multiple occasions, to the local Jewish population being herded onto cattle cars at the train station-their destination then unknown. The horror of these scenes became a recurring theme in her nightmares, she was horrified at the way the Nazis treated people. She saw the Nazis shooting young men in the streets, the violence becoming a constant in people’s lives.

Then her beloved Uncle Otto was arrested as a reprisal for an underground attack on a German train. Otto was held hostage in the hopes the real perpetrators would come forward.  They did not, and he and four other men, were executed some weeks later.
Adding to her distress, Audrey’s parents had a complicated relationship with the Nazis. Like many in their social circle both Joseph and Ella had initially been attracted to the ideas of fascism, they even met Hitler in 1935. But as the war went on, Ella’s beliefs began to change, she had seen too much cruelty and suffering. Joseph meanwhile spent the war years imprisoned in England for his fascist sympathies.

Helping the Resistance

Distraught by what had happened to Otto, Ella and Audrey went to live with his wife, Miesje, Ella’s sister, and their father in the town of Velp, just outside of Arnhem. Audrey held a special place in her heart for her grandfather, with whom she spent many hours doing crossword puzzles, he became the father figure she had so longed for.

It was also in Velp that Audrey began doing volunteer work for local doctor, Hendrik Visser t’Hooft, a man with close ties to the resistance. Through the doctor Audrey and her mother became involved in events known as ‘black evenings’, concerts organised to raise money for the resistance. In private homes, sometimes her own, Audrey danced for a select audience with the windows blackened and doors guarded so that no Nazi could look in. It was a family affair; Ella made her daughters costumes and Audrey choreographed her own routines. It was a welcome, though risky, distraction from the events going on outside. Audrey was to remember fondly how, “The best audience I ever had made not a single sound at the end of my performance.”

This was not the only way Audrey helped the resistance. At least once she delivered copies of the underground newspaper, Oranjekrant. She hid copies in her socks and shoes and then cycled off to deliver them. On another occasion the doctor sent her into the woods near Velp with food and a message to a downed allied airman. No doubt Audrey’s fluency in English made her valuable in this role. On her way home however, she ran into a German police patrol. Thinking quickly and remaining calm, Audrey began picking wildflowers which she offered to the men. Seeing such a young, innocent girl, they sent her on her way without a second thought.

As the war continued food became an ever-increasing problem, and in order to supplement their meagre rations many were forced to forage in the countryside for additional supplies. The van Heemstras ate nettles, grass and made flour from tulips, but it was never enough and Audrey was soon suffering from the effects of malnutrition.

Another problem arose when she turned fifteen. She was required to register, in order to continue dancing, as a member of the Dans Kultuurkamer, an institution created by the Nazis in order to control the arts in Holland. Audrey wouldn’t consider joining such an organisation and this coupled with her poor health led her to temporarily give up her dance lessons. But dance was vital to Audrey’s well-being so she began teaching others instead, offering small private lessons where she could pass on her knowledge and enthusiasm.

Operation Market Garden

In September 1944 the allies launched Operation Market Garden – what was supposed to be the beginning of the successful liberation of the Netherlands. They landed near Arnhem and in the fierce fighting that followed the town was all but destroyed. From her home in Velp, Audrey could hear the almost continuous sound of gunfire and explosions. The Germans ordered the complete evacuation of Arnhem, and many of the displaced made their way to nearby Velp. The van Heemstras, who also had an unwelcome Wehrmacht radio operator working in their attic, opened their home to about forty refugees. The scenes all around invoked a strong response in the compassionate Audrey. She later said, “It was human misery at its starkest.” She was eager to help, offering dance lessons to the anxious citizens of Arnhem in an effort to distract them from the horror outside. She also continued to help Dr. Visser t’Hooft with the endless stream of wounded who came pouring in. Soon even local schools were converted into make shift hospitals, but conditions were desperate.

During this time Audrey’s family also hid a British paratrooper in their cellar. If discovered they would all have paid with their lives, but for Audrey the situation was also exciting. The paratrooper was a kind of knight in shining armour, he represented liberation and freedom to her. It’s not known how long he remained with the family before the resistance could spirit him away, but eventually the Nazis ordered all the refugees from their temporary homes.

Surviving

When Operation Market Garden did not succeed, the Dutch were forced to endure what became known as the ‘hunger winter.’ Disease and starvation were rife and Audrey developed jaundice. Then in March 1945 she was rounded up on the street with several other girls, destined to work in the understaffed German military kitchens. Thankfully Audrey had the presence of mind to run off when the soldiers had their backs turned. She made it home and hid in the cellar until it was safe to come back out.

Not long after the allies again began to close in on the Germans and Arnhem was once again under siege. The van Heemstras spent much of their time in the safety of their cellar, occasionally resurfacing to assess the damage to their home and to try and gain any news of the invasion. They lived as best they could, never quite sure what each day would bring, and then, finally, after weeks of fighting the constant barrage of noise stopped.

Hearing voices Audrey and her family cautiously emerged from their hiding place. At their front door they discovered a group of English soldiers, Audrey was over joyed. She recalled, “freedom has a bouquet, a perfume all its own – the smell of English tobacco and petrol.” The soldiers were equally delighted to have liberated an English girl! The war was finally over.

Audrey was just sixteen years old, malnourished and suffering from jaundice, asthma, edema and anemia – but she was alive, and that was what mattered most to her. As was her immediate family, her two brothers had also survived the war.

Audrey resumed her ballet studies, which took her to Amsterdam and then London, and in the end to a career as an actress. However, she never forgot her war years, they shaped her as a person and would lead to the role she most valued, helping underprivileged children in war torn countries as an ambassador for UNICEF.

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References

Diamond, Jessica Z & Erwin, Ellen (2006), The Audrey Hepburn Treasures: Pictures and Mementos from a Life of Style and Purpose. New York: Atria Books

Dotti, Luca (2015), Audrey at Home: Memories of My Mother’s Kitchen. New York: Harper Design

Hepburn Ferrer, Sean (2003), Audrey Hepburn: An Elegant Spirit. New York: Atria Books

Matzen, Robert (2019), Dutch Girl: Audrey Hepburn and World War II. Pittsburgh: GoodKnight Books

Paris, Barry (1996), Audrey Hepburn. New York: Berkley Books

The Crimean War – Part 6: The Long-term Effects and Historical Significance

The Crimean War (1853–1856) is often remembered for the infamous Charge of the Light Brigade, the pioneering efforts of Florence Nightingale, and the brutal conditions suffered by soldiers on all sides. However, its true significance extends far beyond these well-known episodes. As the final instalment in this series, we examine how the war shaped future conflicts, modern medical practices, political realignments, and cultural legacies. The Crimean War was a crucible of change, marking a transition from traditional to modern warfare and leaving an enduring impact on global history.

Terry Bailey explains.

Read part 1 in the series here, part 2 here, part 3 here, and part 4 here.

A Russian Emancipation Reform took place in 1861. The above painting is Peasants Reading the Emancipation Manifesto, an 1873 painting by Grigory Myasoyedov.

A catalyst for future conflicts

The Crimean War foreshadowed many aspects of later conflicts, particularly the American Civil War (1861–1865) and the First World War (1914–1918). Tactical developments, such as the use of rifled firearms, improved artillery, and early trench warfare, highlighted the obsolescence of Napoleonic-era battle strategies. The war also underscored the importance of logistics, supply lines, and rail transport, elements that would become central to modern warfare.

For the American Civil War, the Crimean War offered key lessons in battlefield medicine, military organization, and the use of industrial technology in war. Notably, Union and Confederate forces adopted the rifled musket and the Minié ball, both of which had proven devastating in Crimea. Additionally, the use of railways to transport troops and supplies became a strategic necessity in the American conflict.

During the First World War, echoes of the Crimean War were unmistakable. Trench warfare, extensive use of artillery bombardments, and the difficulties of siege warfare at Sevastopol found eerie parallels on the Western Front. Furthermore, the Crimean War demonstrated the importance of alliances and diplomacy, a factor that would play a crucial role in shaping the alliances of 1914.

The war's role in modern medical practices

Perhaps one of the most enduring legacies of the Crimean War is its impact on medical care. The appalling conditions in field hospitals, where infections ran rampant and sanitation was virtually nonexistent, led to a medical revolution spearheaded by figures such as Florence Nightingale and Mary Seacole. Nightingale's implementation of hygiene protocols, improved ventilation, and systematic patient care dramatically reduced mortality rates.

The war also highlighted the need for organized battlefield nursing, paving the way for the establishment of professional nursing as a respected vocation. Nightingale's work influenced the founding of the modern military medical corps and laid the groundwork for the Geneva Conventions and the Red Cross movement.

Political fallout for Russia and the Ottoman Empire

The Treaty of Paris (1856) ended the Crimean War but left deep political wounds, particularly for Russia and the Ottoman Empire. Russia, previously regarded as an unstoppable force in Eastern Europe, suffered a humiliating defeat that exposed its military and logistical shortcomings.

The war spurred Tsar Alexander II to initiate the Great Reforms, including the emancipation of the serfs in 1861 and the modernization of the Russian military. These reforms, while significant, also sowed the seeds of future unrest and revolution.

For the Ottoman Empire, the war briefly strengthened its position as a European power, but it also underscored its dependence on British and French support. The empire's chronic instability and economic weaknesses persisted, contributing to its gradual decline and eventual collapse in the early 20th century.

Enduring cultural legacy

The Crimean War left an indelible mark on literature, art, and memorial culture. Alfred, Lord Tennyson's poem The Charge of the Light Brigade immortalized the tragic heroism of British cavalrymen, ensuring that their doomed advance remained a symbol of both courage and folly.

Meanwhile, artists such as Roger Fenton pioneered war photography, providing some of the first visual records of conflict and shaping public perceptions of war.

Memorials to the Crimean War can be found across Europe, particularly in Britain, where statues, plaques, and monuments honor the sacrifices of soldiers. The war's legacy also persists in the many place names and military traditions inspired by its battles and leaders.

The transition to modern warfare

The Crimean War marked a crucial shift from traditional to modern warfare. The use of industrial technology, the importance of logistics, and the role of the press in shaping public opinion all foreshadowed conflicts to come. It was one of the first wars to be extensively covered by newspapers, influencing government decisions and public sentiment in a manner that would become standard in later wars.

Moreover, the Crimean War demonstrated that war was no longer solely about battlefield heroics; it was about endurance, supply chains, and public perception. It highlighted the growing importance of infrastructure, railways, telegraphs, and steam-powered ships, which would become indispensable in future conflicts.

Needless to say, the Crimean War was far more than a conflict of empires vying for influence; it was a turning point in the evolution of warfare, medicine, politics, and culture. It heralded the twilight of the old world and the dawn of a new era defined by industrialized conflict, strategic alliances, and the inexorable advance of technology.

The echoes of Sevastopol's sieges, the lessons learned in battlefield medicine, and the political upheavals it triggered all reverberated through the decades, shaping the course of history in ways its contemporaries could scarcely have imagined.

Militarily, the war exposed the obsolescence of outdated tactics and underscored the necessity of logistical efficiency, mechanized transport, and advanced weaponry, principles that would dominate future conflicts from the American Civil War to the mechanized horrors of the 20th century.

In medicine, it catalyzed a transformation that saved countless lives in subsequent wars, institutionalizing sanitation, organized nursing, and the professionalization of medical care. Politically, it reshaped the balance of power in Europe, compelling Russia to modernize, hastening the Ottoman Empire's decline, and reinforcing the precedent that alliances could determine the fate of nations.

Culturally, it imprinted itself onto literature, photography, and collective memory, immortalizing both its tragedies and its triumphs.

Ultimately, the Crimean War stands as a watershed moment in global history, a conflict fought with the weapons of the past and present, therefore, bearing the hallmarks of the future. It was a war that reshaped the world, not only through the treaties that concluded it but through the profound and lasting transformations it set in motion.

The shadows of Crimea stretched far beyond the battlefields of the 1850s, lingering in the wars, politics, and medical advancements that followed, ensuring that its legacy endures to this day.

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Notes

The Geneva Conventions

The Geneva Conventions, the cornerstone of modern humanitarian law, have their origins in the mid-19th century, with their development significantly influenced by the horrors of the Crimean War (1853–1856).

This conflict, exposed severe deficiencies in battlefield medical care and the treatment of wounded soldiers, highlighting the need for international humanitarian protection.

As indicated in the main text the Crimean War was one of the first major conflicts in which mass media, particularly war correspondents and photographers, brought the suffering of soldiers to public attention.

Reports from the front lines described appalling conditions, with thousands of wounded left untreated due to a lack of medical personnel and supplies. The work of figures such as Florence Nightingale and others, who revolutionized military medical care and nursing by improving sanitation and organizing hospitals, underscored the desperate need for standardized and humane treatment of the wounded.

The inefficiency and suffering witnessed during the war deeply influenced the movement towards formalized humanitarian protections. Swiss humanitarian Henry Dunant, inspired by similar horrors he observed during the Battle of Solferino (1859), took up the cause of improving battlefield medical care.

His 1862 book, A Memory of Solferino, argued for the establishment of a neutral medical organization to aid wounded soldiers regardless of nationality. This led to the creation of the International Committee of the Red Cross in 1863 and, a year later, the signing of the First Geneva Convention in 1864.

While the Geneva Conventions were not directly a product of the Crimean War, the lessons of that conflict, especially the need for better medical care and organized humanitarian efforts, greatly contributed to the momentum that led to their establishment.

What was the ‘Stab-in-the-Back’ Myth that Tormented Inter-War Germany?

From the moment Germany sought an armistice in November 1918, total disbelief amongst the populace ensued at how the Imperial Reich could have been defeated. For many, the answer lay outside of military reality and was instead deeply rooted in conspiracy: that at the decisive hour, the German army had been betrayed at home, with the betrayal having been led by Jews and socialists. The myth would prove impossible for the fledgling democratic republic to shake off, and the Nazis would subsequently make it part of their official history. How did it emerge and why did it prove so persuasive?

James Russell explains.

A 1924 cartoon showing the leaders Philipp Scheidemann and Matthias Erzberger as stabbing the German army in the back. Available here.

The Roots of the Stab-in-the-Back

The ‘stab-in-the-back’ myth can be first traced to a growing wartime notion that Germany’s war effort was being weakened by strikers and shirkers. These arguments were not unique to Germany: Allied cartoons, for example, often accused strikers of weakening the nation’s war effort.

However, in Germany these began to take overtly political and racialist undertones, often encouraged by the wartime government. As the last German offensive of the war descended into failure, its collapse was blamed on strikes, denying the soldiers of what was required in their moment of need. Supposedly treasonous elements within German society were blamed, primarily Jews and socialists.

The key to understanding how the myth took hold is in the wartime nation’s widespread narrative- that Germany was fighting a just war, and that it was winning. German propaganda, under the military dictatorship of Erich Ludendorff and Paul von Hindenburg, repeatedly hammered home these messages.

The lack of wartime enemy occupation or the populace’s experience of the war’s front lines supported these beliefs. The vast majority of fighting on the Western front took place in France and Belgium- only reaffirming to the people the false belief that Germany could not be losing.

With such a perception of Germany’s apparent strength, the scene was set for the conspiracy to proliferate when news of defeat emerged. The first official declaration utilising the ‘stab’ metaphor probably occurred on 2nd November 1918 when a member of the Progressive People’s Party announced to the German parliament:

“As long as the front holds, we damned well have the duty to hold out in the homeland. We would have to be ashamed of ourselves in front of our children and grandchildren if we attacked the battle front from the rear and gave it a dagger-stab.” (1)

The German Defeat

The news that Germany was suing for an armistice on 11 November 1918 shattered the nation’s existing assumptions. Given the existing narratives, many believed that Germany could not have been defeated militarily. For many, the only explanation for defeat was that, inspired by revolts at home, the newly empowered socialist government had committed treason by unnecessarily suing for peace.

Indeed, it was an elaborate plan by Ludendorff and Hindenburg to pin the blame on the new democratic government. Without making any official declaration regarding defeat themselves, and then ceding the responsibility to sue for peace to the new republican government, they successfully pinned much of the blame away from themselves and on to the democratic politicians.

Ludendorff claimed that Germany’s strikes constituted ‘a sin against the man at the front’ and an act of ‘high treason against the country’. They were the ‘work of agitators’ who had infatuated and misled the working class, both of whom were the culprits of the German defeat. (2) These comments were entirely hypocritical – made despite having privately pressed both the Kaiser and politicians for an armistice given Germany’s imminent military collapse.

Meanwhile, whilst testifying before a parliamentary committee investigating the causes of the German defeat, Hindenburg remarked: “An English general said with justice: ‘The German army was stabbed in the back.’ No guilt applies to the good core of the army.” (3) Given the enormous prestige won by both Hindenburg and Ludendorff in the wartime struggle, especially the former, their testimonies lent powerful weight to the myth.

The situation was not helped by the republic’s first President and leader of the Social Democrats, Friederich Ebert. In public recognition of soldierly effort and sacrifice rather than any conspiratorial suggestion, his declaration from the Brandenburg Gate to returning soldiers that no enemy had vanquished them added greater legitimacy to the myth’s claim.

Historians unanimously agree that, faced with a dramatic shortage of supplies, the flooding of US soldiers and materiel into the Allied ranks, a collapsing home front, and with the possibility of an Allied march through Austria, Germany was in a position where defeat was inevitable. Furthermore, the responsibility for the collapse of morale on the home front rested squarely on the German government, who prioritized the needs of the front line at the expense of civilian well-being.

The Myth that Never Dissipated

Throughout its existence, the Weimar Republic witnessed an unhealthy deployment of the ‘stab-in-the-back’ – a myth which challenged the very foundations of the state. Matthias Erzberger, head of the German delegation which signed the armistice in November 1918, would pay for such a signing with his life. He was assassinated in 1921, a death welcomed by many. Many right-wing groups refused to recognise anything other than the total complicity of all democratic politicians in the German humiliation. This was the case even when these politicians vehemently protested the perceived severity of the Versailles Treaty.

Adolf Hitler heavily utilised the myth with his unremitting denunciation of those ‘November Criminals’ who had sued for an armistice in November 1918. Such castigations became a constant feature of Nazi propaganda, with their accusations of ‘high treason against the country’ being particularly virulent in its antisemitism. The Jews had ‘cunningly dodged death on the plea of being engaged in business’ and it was this ‘carefully preserved scum’ that had sued for peace at the first chance presented. (4)

Unlike the events in the Russian Empire in 1917, the revolution in Germany’s political landscape over the course of 1918 and 1919 was partial. The key party in deciding Germany’s future, the Social Democrats, forged a compromise between their ideals whilst maintaining many continuities from the old regime. Hence Germany’s courts, army and educational system underwent little change despite Germany’s new republican setup. These institutions, still populated by many individuals loyal to the old regime, empowered the myth’s proliferation. When Hitler faced charges of treason for launching a coup in 1923, the Munich court he faced was lenient to say the least. It allowed him an uninterrupted three-hour tirade to defend his actions and expound the illegitimacy of the Republic. Despite being found guilty of treason, Hitler was nonetheless imprisoned in pleasant conditions for only a year. (5)

One of the most destructive implications of the myth transpired in the Second World War: Hitler declared in 1942, “the Germany of former times laid down its arms at a quarter to twelve. On principle I have never quit before five minutes after twelve.” (6) Unlike the First World War, Hitler’s Germany would not surrender until the bitter end, with all the death, ruin and misery resulting therefrom.

What role did the Socialists and Jews actually have in the First World War?

Contrary to prevalent assumptions and prejudices, the German-Jewish population was overrepresented in the army, rather than ‘shirking’ as was consistently argued by antisemites during and after the war. Many Jewish Germans saw it as an opportunity to once and for all demonstrate their allegiance to the nation and eliminate all remaining traces of antisemitism. The authorities in 1916, subscribing to the shirking argument, ordered a census of Jews in the army. The results indicated Jewish overrepresentation rather than underrepresentation, but its results were never released to the public. This concealing of the truth only fuelled antisemitic conspiracy.

Meanwhile, German socialists found themselves in an awkward position throughout the war. It’s outbreak in 1914 divided them, culminating in a fractious split later in the war. Yet for the most part, German socialists remained loyal to the nation’s war effort, as part of a wider German political truce. Naturally, the political leadership of the Social Democrats attempted to balance the more radical elements of Germany’s workers against the demands of the state for war contribution.

Unfortunately, Germany’s strikes of January 1918 strikes signified a particularly divisive episode, with major ramifications for the post-war scene. By mediating between the strikers and the state, the Social Democrats were blamed by the more radical left-wing parties as unnecessarily prolonging the war, and on the other hand, blamed by the right-wing for denying the resources needed by German soldiers at the 11th hour. In 1924, President Ebert would be found technically guilty of treason by the German courts for his role in the mediation. It is, however, worth noting that Germany lost far fewer total days to strikes than Britain did during the war.

The stab-in-the-back myth remains a powerful reminder that Germany’s first experience of democracy had had a fundamentally unhealthy backdrop throughout its existence. It also warns of the dangers of unfounded claims in politics – and the importance for any democracy to thoroughly combat their falsehoods.

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Sources:

(1)   Ernst Muller, Aus Bayerns schwersten Tagen (Berlin, 1924), p.27.

(2)   Erich Ludendorff, My War Memories, 1914-1918, vol. 1 (London, 1919), p.334.

(3)   German History in Documents and Images, Paul von Hindenburg's Testimony before the Parliamentary Investigatory Committee ["The Stab in the Back"] (18 November 1919). Accessed 19 March 2025. https://ghdi.ghidc.org/sub_document.cfm?document_id=3829

(4)   Adolf Hitler, Mein Kampf (Boston, 1943), p.521.

(5)   The Manchester Guardian, 27 February 1924, 7, ‘Ludendorff Trial Opens: "A Friendly Atmosphere." Hitler denounces Marxism and Berlin’s Timidity.’

(6)   Jewish Virtual Library, Adolf Hitler: Speech on the 19th Anniversary of the “Beer Hall Putsch” (November 8, 1942). Accessed 19 March 2025.

U.S. Civil War Nurse Louisa May Alcott

Among the thousands of women who served as nurses in the American Civil War was a little-known writer from Massachusetts. Her name was Louisa May Alcott.

Heather Voight explains.

Louisa May Alcott at around 20 years old.

Why Louisa became a Civil War Nurse

Louisa May Alcott had several reasons for wanting to become a nurse during the Civil War. Her father, Bronson Alcott, was an ardent abolitionist. The Alcott home sheltered runaway slaves from the South. Louisa shared her father’s abolitionist views at a young age. Her parents allowed her and sister Anna to roam their neighborhood streets. One day, before she had learned to swim, a black boy rescued Louisa from a pond. From then on, Louisa decided to befriend African Americans.

Louisa was also frustrated with the limited role that women were supposed to play in the Civil War. Like her mother and many of the other women in the neighborhood, Louisa helped to sew bandages and items of clothing for soldiers in their town. Soon she got bored, however, and wanted to do something more active. “I like the stir in the air, and long for battle like a war-horse when he smells powder,” Louisa wrote.

A more personal reason also encouraged Louisa to leave home. Her writing, though it kept her family solvent, was not getting the attention from the public that she wanted. In 1862 she wrote mainly thriller stories which made money but received no critical acclaim.

Requirements for Civil War Nurses

For these reasons Louisa responded enthusiastically when family friend Dorethea Dix became the Union’s superintendent of female nurses. Louisa fit almost all the requirements for Civil War nurses. Louisa was plain, always simply dressed, and already thirty years old. The only requirement she didn’t meet was that nurses should be married. Apparently, the marriage requirement was waived because she received her letter calling her to serve as a nurse on December 11, 1862. Louisa started packing at once. In addition to her clothing and some games, she packed some Charles Dickens novels that she planned to read to her patients.

Louisa’s Arrival at the Union Hospital in Washington, D.C.

After a tumultuous journey by train and ferry, Louisa arrived at Union Hotel Hospital in Washington, D.C. on December 16, 1863. This so-called hospital was a hastily converted former hotel and tavern.

Louisa kept a journal during her time as a nurse and wrote letters home whenever she had a spare moment. Eventually her words became known as Hospital Sketches. Three of these sketches were published in Commonwealth Magazine. The sketches were lightly fictionalized accounts of her nursing experiences.

Nursing on the Day Shift

A few days after she and her fictional counterpart Tribulation Periwinkle started nursing, they had to deal with wounded from the Battle of Fredericksburg. The battle was a terrible Union defeat in which 12,700 men were killed in one day. Tribulation describes the scene at the hospital: “when I peeped into the dusky street lined with what I at first had innocently called market carts…now unloading their sad freight at our door…my ardor experienced a sudden chill, and I indulged in a most unpatriotic wish that I was safe at home again, with a quiet day before me.”

The men coming in from Fredericksburg were covered in dirt from battle and from being piled on top of each other. A nurse’s first job was to clean the patients. The idea of caring for the physical needs of badly wounded and dying men was overwhelming to a woman whose only nursing experience was derived from her sister Beth’s battle with scarlet fever. As Tribulation says, “to scrub some dozen lords of creation at a moment’s notice was really—really—However, there was no time for nonsense.” Tribulation gets to work scrubbing an Irishman who is so amused at the idea of having a woman wash him that he starts laughing and “so we laughed together.”

Another of a nurse’s duties was to serve food to the men. Tribulation helped distribute the trays of bread, meat, soup and coffee. This fare was better than the nurses’ who were given beef so tough that Tribulation thought it must have been made for soldiers during the Revolutionary War.

Once the meals were cleared away, Tribulation took a lesson in wound dressing. Ether was not used to ease the men’s pain and Tribulation expressed her admiration for the soldiers’ “patient endurance.”   

After giving out medication and singing to the men, Tribulation finally retired for the evening at eleven.

Nursing on the Night Shift

Eventually both Louisa and her counterpart Tribulation moved from the day to the night shift. Tribulation says, “It was a strange life—asleep half the day, exploring Washington the other half, and all night hovering, like a massive cherubim, in a red rigolette, over the slumbering sons of men. I liked it, and found many things to amuse, instruct and interest me.” Amusement could be found in the hospital, laughing with patients or discovering that she could recognize them just by the differences in their snores.

Much of nursing was not amusing, however. Louisa wrote about her friendship with a patient named John. He worked as a blacksmith and served as the head of the family for his widowed mother and younger siblings. As Tribulation says, “His mouth was grave and firm, with plenty of will and courage in its lines, but a smile could make it as sweet as any woman’s.” Tribulation admires his will to live and is sure he will recover. She’s shocked to learn from the doctor that John is one of the sickest patients, with a bullet lodged in his lung. Eventually John asks, “This is my first battle; do they think it will be my last?” Tribulation answers him honestly. She stays with John as he dies, holding his hand to the very last.

Louisa’s Illness and Return Home

Louisa’s nursing career came to an end when she contracted typhoid pneumonia. She was determined to stay and try to recover at the hospital, but she agreed to go home when her father came to see her. She left on January 21, 1863, just over a month from when she arrived. Despite the illness and the lingering side effects she experienced from being dosed with a mercury compound by doctors, Louisa never regretted becoming a Civil War nurse. She wrote in Hospital Sketches that “the amount of pleasure and profit I got out of that month compensates for all pangs.”

The Publication of Hospital Sketches

The biggest compensation she received from her war work was the publication of Hospital Sketches. Her first three stories as nurse Tribulation Periwinkle published in Commonwealth Magazine proved to be so popular that Louisa wrote three more and they were published as a book. After years of writing thrillers and romances that paid well but were largely ignored, Louisa’s Hospital Sketches brought her popularity and critical acclaim. Louisa wrote to her publisher that “I have the satisfaction of seeing my townsfolk buying and reading, laughing and crying over it wherever I go.” Suddenly Louisa’s writing was in demand, with publishers requesting more stories and books. Louisa was on her way to becoming a famous author because of her decision to become a Civil War nurse. 

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References

Alcott, Louisa May. Hospital Sketches. Boston: James Redpath, 1863.

Cheever, Susan. Louisa May Alcott: A Personal Biography. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2010.

Delmar, Gloria. Louisa May Alcott and “Little Women:” Biography, Critique, Publications, Poems, Songs and Contemporary Relevance. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland and Company, 1990.

LaPlante, Eve. Marmee and Louisa. New York: Free Press, 2012.

Stern, Madeleine. Louisa May Alcott: From Blood and Thunder to Hearth and Home. Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1998.