A 111-year-old treasure by Sheena Wilkinson

 Another of my occasional series about books from the past.

Last week I went to a conference in Bristol, a biannual affair discussing a wide range of mostly twentieth-century children’s books. I enjoyed hearing talks on writers like Rosemary Sutcliff, Noel Streatfeild and Geoffrey Trease, as well as the Chalet School, etc.

One of the highlights is the book sale. Specialist dealers and delegates alike bring hundreds of children’s books – the rare, the eye-wateringly expensive and occasionally the shabby old friend that you have to buy because it’s exactly the edition they had in the Cregagh Library in 1979. I told myself I had to be ruthless. I’d had a huge clear-out, and  I’m not a person of great means. 

But I couldn’t pass this by.The Story of the Treasure Seekers, along with The Railway Children, was always my favourite E. Nesbit. (I have always preferred my stories without magic, where possible.) This copy, dated 1907, is not a first (the book was published in 1899) but it's certainly the oldest copy I have seen. As you can see, it's fine and clean, a vibrant red with gilt tooling. An object of beauty. My own old copy was a 1960s Puffin paperback from a jumble sale, charming because it was my own, but not to be compared to this beauty. My fiftieth birthday is a fortnight away; I decided to treat myself. 

This isn’t about the humour and heart of the story, though if you are unfamiliar with the fortunes of the house of Bastable, I suggest you remedy that forthwith. It’s about the book itself. It’s dedicated to‘Baby’, with all love from Daddy & Mummy on her birthday, Sept 13^th, 1912.   It was customary then for children  to be known as Baby for the first year or so of life, especially in larger families, but I don’t know if ‘Baby’ received this book as an infant –  it doesn’t say which birthday, so it might indeed be her birth day – or as an older child. In which case, how embarrassing still to be known as ‘Baby’ -- she might have been the soppy sort of child the Bastables would have despised. The book had been around for 13 years by 1912: I like to think it was a childhood favourite of 'Daddy' or 'Mummy', and they were impatient to pass it on to their own child. 

But ‘Baby’ never read The Story of the Treasure Seekers; I am sure of it. Not this copy anyway. It’s very, very clean. Suspiciously so for a child’s book that is now 111 years old. Perhaps she grew up not to care much for reading. 

what Baby was missing 

If, as I suspect, she was given the book as an infant, to ‘grow into’, she would have been ready to read it around 1922. Maybe she preferred Angela Brazil or the first of the Dimsie books. Or perhaps, as she would have been six in 1918, she was one of the 50 million people who died in the great flu pandemic. Or her parents did, and she was orphaned, sent away perhaps without her books.

We will never know. And whatever happened to ‘Baby’, this book, carefully chosen by her parents, has outlived them all. I don’t know where it has been through the whole of the twentieth century, but I know where it’s going to be for the rest of my life. And it may not stay quite so pristine because it is going to be taken down, and loved, and most importantly read.

The Mother of us all: Five Children on the Western Front by Kate Saunders

Fresh from her short-listing for the Children's section of the Costa Award, our special guest for November is Kate Saunders.

Photo by Hannah Love

Kate Saunders is a full-time author and journalist and has written numerous books for adults and children. Her books for children have won awards and received rave reviews, and include future classics such as Beswitched and The Whizz Pop Chocolate Shop. Her adult books include The Crooked Castle and The Marrying Game. Kate lives in London.


In this month of Remembrance in the Centenary of the outbreak of World War One, it seems especially appropriate to feature a book that begins in 1914 and takes some well-loved characters into danger in France. E. Nesbit's Five Children and It has become a classic for children; it was published in 1902 and it's not a great stretch of the imagination to see that the older children in the story would have been caught up in the "Great" War.

Cyril (Squirrel) is off to the Front, soon to be followed by Robert (Bobs). Anthea (Panther) becomes a VAD, while Jane (Pussy), much to her mother's horror,  wants to train as a doctor. The Lamb (never known as Hilary, except to his mother) is a schoolboy and the five "children" have been joined by a sixth, Edie.

Three VAD nurses 1916 Source: Europeana 1914-1918

There are familiar characters like the Professor and Old Nurse and new ones like Ernie, Lilian and the Lamb's best friend at school, Arthur Winterbottom, known universally as Winterbum, And of course the grumpy wish-granting sand fairy, the Psammead.

I started by asking Kate if the Nesbit books had always been a favourite with her.

Kate Saunders: 'Five Children and It' was a great favourite when I was a child. I also loved the two sequels - especially 'The Phoenix and the Carpet' because we lived near Kentish Town Road, where the carpet was purchased.

Mary Hoffman: At the end of Five Children and It, the children agree that Psammead will not give them any more wishes. Did this give you a massive problem? (As it must have done for Nesbit with the two sequels)

KS: The wishes were supposed to stop at the end of 'Five Children', but Nesbit decided to overlook this and so did I; the sand fairy is known to be capricious.

Frontispiece to Five Children and It

MH:  When I re-read the books to my own children, I was made a bit uncomfortable by the attitude towards servants and in the first book the portrayal of Gypsies and “Red Indians.” I did bowdlerise a bit when reading out loud. Any thoughts on that? 

KS: One thing I definitely did not want in my book was the children's snobbish  asides about servants and the servant class in general. In these moments we hear Nesbit herself and not her characters. She does it in 'The Treasure Seekers' too, when she puts a remark about the servant not brushing the stairs into the unlikely mouth of Oswald Bastable. It's looks like a pretty poor show for a devoted socialist like Nesbit - until you consider the intense social anxiety of the time. Nesbit's rootless, wandering childhood left her with a fear of losing caste that it is difficult to understand today; she once rejected an illustration with the complaint that the children didn't look "like the children of gentlefolk".

MH:  You manage to maintain E. Nesbit’s tone in the dialogue among the children very well, with all the slang of the time. Did that come easily?

KS: I did not consciously imitate E Nesbit's 'tone' - I only have one tone, and couldn't change it if I tried. But many writers for children imitate her unconsciously. She is the mother of us all.

MH: Was it you who changed the Psammead into a desert god or was that Nesbit in the two sequels?

KS:The original Psammead was not a desert god; I invented his background for the purposes of the story. But Nesbit left his background beautifully vague.

MH: Setting your book in this centenary year of the outbreak of WW1, were you conscious of introducing the subject to young readers?

KS: I was highly aware of introducing young readers to the First World War, and giving them the broadest possible picture; thanks to the Psammead, I could take the children right to the front line, besides showing how lives were affected at home.

Life in the trenches by "Simon Q" Creative Commons

MH: You give Amanda Craig an acknowledgment for “saving someone’s life.” No spoilers but I think I can guess who that was. Were you going to be more ruthless initially?

KS: My fellow-scribbler Amanda Craig saved the life of one of my characters - I won't say which. In the beginning my plot was less merciful than the final version.

MH: You have known great personal loss, through the death of your son at nineteen. Did that inform what you wrote and was it in any way cathartic to write it?

KS:My own darling son died in 2012, and my grief definitely shaped this book. The writing of it probably held me together.

MH: You have very thoroughly made it impossible for there to be a further book about the Psammead, at least not by you. What is your next project likely to be?

KS: I have no idea what my next children's book will be - I'm deep in a story for adults at the moment.

MH: Did you go and see the poppies installation at the Tower?

KS:  I missed seeing the poppies in the flesh, but loved the pictures - a beautiful work of art and the strongest possible statement of remembrance.

Thank you, Kate, for  generously giving us your time in this busy month and good luck for the Costa!

You can read my review of Five Children on the Western Front here.