Two Sleeps
By C. A. Asbrey
It's often struck me, whilst researching my family tree, or history in general, how strange it is that some major things can be totally unknown by later generations. Sometimes, they are deliberately kept secret out of shame. Other times they are so mundane that people take it for granted that everyone knows about it, and nobody writes it down. A few generations later, it's easily forgotten.
The fact that our sleeping pattern has completely changed since the early 19th century seems to be one of those things. Biphasic sleep, where we sleep in two separate periods, began to disappear in the late 17th century, but lingered in some communities until the 1920s. Many relate the change to the industrial revolution, as the change coincides with the start of mass manufacturing and the use of machines in production. It's also around that time that cities really started to grow, changing the lifestyle from an agrarian, to an industrial one. Artificial light is also seen as factor, as people were able to stay awake for longer and compress their sleep into one longer rest.
Studies on modern-day hunter-gathers give us an insight into how our neolithic ancestors slept. The results were remarkably similar in very different cultures and continents. People tended to wind down, eating and talking until about three-and-a-half hours after sunset. They'd then sleep for roughly six-and-a-half hours before waking. In the Northern Hemisphere that would mean a bedtime of between nine to ten-thirty in the summer, and a waking time of around three to four-thirty in the morning(depending on sunlight). The sleeping periods were longer in the winter and shorter in the summer, so exposure to light was definitely a factor.
The break in the middle could be used in many ways: sex, eating, milking cows, feeding livestock, praying, or preparing food. There are records of it being used in the commission of crime too, but we'll come back to that one. Some even visited friends. This would last for around an hour or two, and then a second sleep of around four hours would take place.
When you look at the average time cows get their morning milk—4-5am— it's easy to see that the first sleep coincided with the animals' needs, so fitted perfectly with the natural rhythms of the farmers without being as onerous as it is today. Where I grew up, further north, the average time was 4am. We so often think that the milking was the start of the working day, but it's clear that in the past it preceded the second sleep. We never think of the farmer going back to bed afterwards nowadays, but documents show that's exactly what happened. Breakfast traditionally came later, after all the animals were fed—between 6-7am.
Bear in mind that there was no demand for the milk to be processed, bottled and ready for the shops or delivery. It was simply stored and would be sold locally. Even I'm old enough to remember going to the local farm with a big jug to collect the milk for the morning. It was unpasteurised too, and tasted completely different to milk today. During the day milk was quickly turned into products with a longer shelf-life like butter, yoghurt, or cheese. Terracotta pots soaked in cold water, and kept in a dairy, could keep milk for several hours. There's evidence in early records from Gloucester, that the cheesemaking process was started overnight from the evening milking, also using what was leftover from the morning. Butter was made in the mornings.
So where are all these references to the 'second sleep'? It's mentioned in Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales (written between 1387 and 1400). It's also mentioned in William Baldwin's Beware the Cat (1561) – a satirical book considered by some to be the first ever novel, which centres around a man who learns to understand the language of a group of terrifying supernatural cats, one of whom, Mouse-slayer, is on trial for promiscuity.
In Charles Dickens' Barnaby Rudge (1840), he writes: "He knew this, even in the horror with which he started from his first sleep, and threw up the window to dispel it by the presence of some object, beyond the room, which had not been, as it were, the witness of his dream."
"Don Quixote followed nature, and being satisfied with his first sleep, did not solicit more. As for Sancho, he never wanted a second, for the first lasted him from night to morning." Miguel Cervantes, Don Quixote (1615)
"And at the wakening of your first sleepe You shall have a hott drinke made, And at the wakening of your next sleepe Your sorrowes will have a slake." Early English ballad, Old Robin of Portingale
Roger Ekrich published a well-received paper in the evidence for biphasic sleep in 2001, and a book; At Day's Close: Night Times in the Past. It contains over 500 references to biphasic sleeping patterns from diaries, court records, medical books, and literature. The net is thrown as wide as Homer's Odyssey to the modern anthropological studies mentioned above, and there's a clear case made for people sleeping in two phases throughout the night when they reach adulthood. A doctors' manual from 16th century France even advised that the period "after the first sleep", was best for conception, when "they have more enjoyment" and "do it better". The need for an afternoon nap is well-known for small children and the elderly.
And what about the criminal cases? The period between the two sleeps was called 'the watch' or 'the watching', and there are many references to prostitution. There are many instances of theft, cattle rustling, highwaymen, and the like, but one famous case took place on the 13th April 1699. Jane Rowth told the court that she woke from her first sleep, and saw her mother greeting some men who arrived at the house. Her mother told her to settle back down, as the men were expected saying, "lye still, and shee would come againe in the morning". Mrs. Routh never came back and her body was found a few days later. The case was never solved.
The court transcript shows that Jane saw the term 'first sleep' as perfectly normal, and nobody in the court asked her to explain it. In other cases Jon Cokburne mentioned it in a dispute over unpaid work. Another murder case featured Luke Atkinson in The East Riding of Yorkshire, who used to the to commit numerous nefarious deeds. According to his wife he use 'the watch' to murder and steal.
People would settle down for their sleep in shared beds, and there was a strict convention on sleeping positions. The eldest female child would sleep against the wall, followed by female siblings, with the parents—mother, then father. Then male children would either follow, or sleep top-to-tail at the other end, followed by extended family, or trusted servants.
Apart from chores, visiting, sex and crime, the watch was also used by the devout to pray. In monasteries, Matins were said in the dead of night, and some devout people used the watch for their own observances. But I'm sure creative the writers amongst you will relate to the 18th century tradesman who found the time excellent for creative thinking. He invented a 'nocturnal remembrancer', a special pad with a horizontal opening in which to note down his nightly insights. How many of you use something similar?
The rich could always afford artificial light, where the poor depended on rush lamps, oil, or tallow. However, until there was a social cachet attached to staying up late, even the rich followed the same patterns as everyone else. As artificial lighting improved and became more affordable, more and more wealthy people stayed up later to socialise. The advent of street lighting in the 17th century meant that people promenaded in a conspicuous show of wealth, partied, and gambled as never before. The change began to our sleeping patterns as staying up later filtered through all levels of society, and it became more respectable.
The start of the industrial revolution really changed things for good. Using daylight hours for work was more cost effective than paying for artificial lighting. Mass production demanded fixed hours, and it wasn't feasible to waste fuel stopping and starting engines and machines. A longer working day, along with a longer evening, meant that sleep was compressed, pushing it into a single unit. A medical journal from 1829 describes how parents should instil such discipled sleep in their children. "If no disease or accident there intervene, they will need no further repose than that obtained in their first sleep, which custom will have caused to terminate by itself just at the usual hour. And then, if they turn upon their ear to take a second nap, they will be taught to look upon it as an intemperance not at all redounding to their credit."
Where relaxing around in the middle of the night was once seen as natural and a virtue, it was now seen as lazy, and an unproductive use of time. In a world where work was no longer in the hands of the people who did it, there was no room for flexibility to fit around your personal rhythms.
It's interesting that the rise in sleep disorders arises around the same time. The necessity to compress all your sleep into a period which doesn't suit your own bodily cycles, coupled with anxiety about not getting enough sleep, became a recognised barrier to rest which caused people to seek medical help. However, despite very compelling studies showing humans as being naturally biphasic, most doctors still do not recognise that modern lifestyles may be a big part of the problem. Shifts have made the problem even worse.
Studies have been conducted in which sleep disorders were treated by emulating the conditions of the past: no artificial light, quiet, no wake up time. The same results were measured. People followed the same patterns. It took some time for sleep to change - up to a month. Then sleep self-regulated into a two-phase process.
Ekrich is keen to assure us that we don't have a lesser quality sleep than our ancestors, just a different one. We don't share a bed crammed with relatives, sleep on floors, or straw teaming with parasites. Nor are we alert for possible attack. We have excellent mattresses, central heating, and room to spread.
I think the one takeaway from all of this, is if you find yourself awake in the wee small hours, it may help you to think of it as perfectly natural and relax into it, sure in the knowledge that your second sleep will be along very soon.
Excerpt
Almost everyone woke simultaneously, jolted by the sound of the brakes grinding, and the engine puffing and huffing in protest at an unscheduled stop. Jake’s hand reached for his gun even before he was fully conscious.
“No!” The cry came from Jeffrey, the younger steward, who staggered into the aisle in shock.
Nat strode out of the curtained area, fastening his trousers. “What’s wrong?”
“Mrs. Hunter,” Jeffrey stammered. “She’s dead.”
Nat dragged the curtain aside, revealing the tiny-framed woman lying in a pool of blood. He kneeled and scrutinized her. “Bring a lamp.” He reached out and touched her face. “She’s alive. She’s warm. Fetch Philpot. He’s a doctor.”
The Englishman wandered groggily forward. “I’m not a doctor. I’m a—”
“We don’t care what you are, Philpot,” Jake growled. “You’re the nearest thing we’ve got. You’ve got medical training. Get in there.”
Mrs. Hunter’s eyes flickered weakly open. “My moonstone. Miss Davies—she took it.” She fell back into insensibility.
Jake frowned and his keen blue eyes looked up and down the railway car at the passengers crowded in the aisle in various stages of undress. “Where is Miss Davies? Have you seen her, Abi? You’re bunkin’ with her.”
“No, she isn’t here.” Abigail frowned. “I haven’t seen her for ages. She wasn’t even in her bunk when I changed Ava.”
Malachi padded briskly up to the group, pushing various butlers out of his way as they milled around. “Oh, my goodness! The poor woman.”
Jake nodded. “Yeah, Philpot’s seein’ to her. She’s still alive. Why’ve we stopped? We ain’t at a station.”
Malachi quickly fastened a stray button. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. I have been informed that a rock fall has blocked the tracks. We will dig it out and be on our way as soon as possible.”
“A rock fall? So, how far to a station?” Nat asked. “We’re high in the mountains, miles from anywhere.”
There was another ominous rumble somewhere above them and the carriage shook. The roof thundered with the thumps and clattering of stones and gravel pounding the roof. Worried glances rose upward while Abigail hunched protectively over her baby. The noise gradually stopped, but for an occasional patter of settling gravel and stones shifting above them.
The head steward’s brow crinkled into a myriad of furrows. “I’d best go and check that out.”
Nat’s brows knotted into a frown. “We’re miles from anywhere? So where has Maud Davies gone?”
“With the moonstone?” Jake strode over to the door and looked out at the huge feathery flakes drifting down from the heavy skies onto an expansive mountainous vista. “There’s nowhere to go.”
