Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts

Sunday, 30 October 2016

Revisited: The Watts Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice

On Monday 3rd October I just happened to catch an episode of the BBC’s Inside Out and as often happens, they began running a feature which I was quickly lured into by recognition of the location in which they were filming – Postman’s Park. Now immediately I had a feeling that what was about to be covered was The Watts Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice and sure enough that’s what it was and it reminded me of the blog I’d drafted a while ago and only recently posted, which in light of this programme I thought was worth revisiting.

The Watt's Memorial in Postman's Park
The segment introduced historian Dr John Price and his book ‘Heroes of Postman’s Park: Heroic Self-Sacrifice in Victorian London’ in which he reveals the full details of the lives and untimely deaths of all sixty-two people commemorated on the memorial. I hadn’t come across the book when I wrote the original blog so I decided to do a little bit more research and also came across the fact that there is also a free app which can be used at home, or at the site itself, which brings to life the people who feature of the wall; the camera recognising the tablet in question and presenting the user with an individual profile. This brings to life what ordinarily are abstract names on a memorial. For each individual the profile includes ‘a description of the incident in which they died and details of all the key people involved, allowing the user to gain different perspectives on the circumstances. Events, locations and places of interest can be viewed on interactive maps and the app is extensive illustrated, with pictures of people and places.’(1) This is a really great interactive way to engage people with what is fascinating memorial and to tell the important histories of the people which it commemorates.

Just some on the tablets that adorn the wall.
But what captured my interest most was the fact that this feature on Inside Out was essentially a publicity campaign for the Friends of the Watt’s memorial, established in 2015, who wish to complete Watt’s memorial and fill the remaining tablets as its creator, George Frederick Watts, originally intended. It was explained that Dr Price thinks it likely that Watt’s selected the remaining people and that the list remains in an archive somewhere as yet undiscovered. Dr Price also explained that the Friends hope to make the new tablets as similar as possible to the original, with the original kiln being shown and even discussion of whether it might be possible recommissioned it and produce the remaining tiles.

This struck me as an interesting concept on two levels. Firstly, I asked myself the question – should we finish something that someone in the past began and which was only left incomplete because of that person’s death, and which has now become a piece of history in its own right (albeit incomplete). Or, like the Friends have proposed, should we be looking to complete a memorial like this? The second question I then had was what if there is not a definitive list? And does a list by Watts even matter given that additions were made after his death, the memorial including individuals who were not considered by Watts but were selected by his wife who took over the management of the memorial after his death in 1904? As a result there are a number of individuals whose death’s date beyond that – most before 1927, but there is also one exception, Leigh Pitt a reprographic operator who saved a drowning boy from a canal in 2007 but lost his life in doing so. Clearly this extends beyond what Watts could ever have conceived for the memorial, so how does that factor in to what the Friends hope to do. Curiosity got the better of me and so I tweeted to ask but my question has been left unanswered.

I think this project asks some interesting questions about the way in which we manage and view memorials and whether that should be restricted to preservation or more interventionist activity. It’s certainly given me food for thought and I’ll be interested to see what occurs in the coming months or even years.  

Monday, 10 October 2016

Remembering ‘Everyday’ Heroes: The Watts Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice

When it comes to London I am known for avoiding the tube where possible and travelling by foot. It’s a habit I’ve acquired from my Dad who used to take us to London a lot when we were kids and for whom, travelling by foot was the favoured mode of transport. You can just imagine the whingeing and whining that often happened as he powered ahead with two kids who could barely match his stride, struggling to make two for every one of his. But now, some 15 years later, I can both understand and appreciate his way of thinking. Not only has it resulted in me having confidence in navigating around the city, but it has also revealed so much more of the city to me, including the subject of this blog.

Short cuts can reveal all sorts of unusual places and on a recent visit to the Museum of London I stumbled across Postman’s Park, where I was surprised to discover The Watts Memorial to the Heroic Self-Sacrifice. At first I saw it from a distance – this rather imposing and curious looking memorial – and there was just something about it that lured me forwards. It was quite different from any other I have seen and curiosity took over, particularly when I saw the inscription which ran across the top of the wooden structure and read ‘In Commemoration of Heroic Self Sacrifice’.

The Watts Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice
Picture © Eleanor Larsson
As I approached specific details began to stand out more - the number of individual plaques that each bore a name, dates and writing. To one side there was a sign that read as follows, offering some explanation behind the memorial:

G.F. Watt’s Memorial to Heroic Self Sacrifice.
Unveiled in 1900, The Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice was conceived and undertaken by the Victorian Artist George Frederic Watts OM RA (1817-1904).

It contains plaques to those who have heroically lost their lives trying to save another.
Watts believed that these ‘Everyday’ heroes provided models of exemplary behaviour and character.

‘The material prosperity of a nation is not an abiding possession: the deeds of its people are’ G.F. Watts
‘Greater Love Hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends,’ John 15:13.

Watts Gallery, Compton, Surrey.

Picture © Eleanor Larsson
I found this memorial incredibly poignant and as I moved along the wall, reading more of the individual plaques and the ways in which each lost their life whilst saving that of another, I couldn’t help but respect and admire the bravery of those remembered there.

The people remembered span across some 150 years. The most recent dating from 2007, while the earliest case comes from 1863 and is that of Sarah Smith, a pantomime artist at the Prince’s Theatre, who had tried to extinguish the flames which had enveloped her companion, but she herself died of the injuries she sustained in trying to do so.  

Other cases document those who had been in the emergency services and acted while on duty, policemen and members of the fire brigade, while others were reacting to workplace incidents, air raids or freak accidents they just happened to witness. The cases documented are such human stories, featuring men and woman, child and adults, all ordinary people, who if it weren’t for the events that took their lives, would have been hidden from history. The memorial really made a strong impression on me.

Picture © Eleanor Larsson
It would seem that Watts had a particular motive in mind when creating this memorial - moral improvement, one of the key concerns of the Victorian age. But I think it also stands the test of time. By reminding us of ‘everyday’ heroes we are forced to confront quite an uncomfortable truth. I think we’d all like to think that in a crisis we’d respond and react in a similar way, but how many of us would actually do so when so often we walk along with headphones in our ears, buried in our phones and completely oblivious to the world going on around us.

Discovering this memorial caused me to have an interesting moment of reflection, one which was prompted by a fascinating piece of history.

You can find more information about the memorial here - http://www.postmanspark.org.uk/about.html

Saturday, 25 June 2016

Sharing Hidden Histories: KCL’s History Department Monuments Marathon and Parks & Palaces Plod

On our way to stop No.11  Camden Pan-Africanism
© Felicity McWilliams
For the past month or so you may have seen me posting links to the crowdfunding page for an event King’s History Department runs biennially – the Monuments Marathon and Parks & Palaces Plod. The ‘Marathon’ was set up in 2014 by former KCL Professor Ludmilla Jordanova in order to raise funds for the Undergraduate Hardship fund, although this years’ sponsorship was for the equivalent MA fund. The idea as pitched to us was to take to the ‘streets and parks of London to tour sites of historical interest, learning from each other’ along the way.

Hearing that, I should think it will come as no surprise to hear that when we received an email advertising the event back in April, I was immediately on board with the idea – fundraising while learning about history and walking around London – what was not to love! The plan was to walk to 26 historic sites over the distance of around 10 miles, the walk starting at King’s and featuring 4 minute ‘street talks’ from volunteers choosing to speak on sites of their choice along the route.

Stop No. 3 - Mammoths in the Square
© Elle Larsson
And that is exactly what we did last Sunday. We walked a grand total of around 13.8 miles, taking in 26 historic sites over the course of around 10 hours. I should say at this point however that 4 members of the department put in an extra tremendous effort, rising early and running an 11.5 mile route taking in the palaces of London – beginning with the Tower of London and ending with Kensington Palace, before heading back to KCL and joining the rest of us on the walk!  

It was a really fantastic day – we had good weather, great company and were able to share some of the lesser known stories of London we’ve each come across during the course of our own research. A huge range of topics were covered and what struck me in particular was that even though some of these places are signified by plaques and statues, the stories are much richer than can be conveyed by those markers alone, while others simply had no markers at all.

Stop No. 2 Benjamin Franklin House/Bodies in the basement
© Elle Larsson
A few things from the day have stuck out in particular. For example the origin of the legend of the ‘Black Dog’ of Newgate and how beneath Trafalgar Square there was/is a rich source of prehistoric archaeological material, including Mammoths; the fact that beneath Benjamin Franklin’s house a large number of human skeletons had been excavated, owing to the fact that another of its former residents had been a comparative anatomist, who himself died after contracting sepsis from one of his cadavers! But I think my favourite snippet has to be hearing about the mechanized waxwork of Mrs. Salmon which was booby-trapped to kick patrons as they left her establishment. Who new early nineteenth century waxworks could be mechanized?

Stop No. 10 - Fitzrovia Revolutionaries
© Felicity McWilliams
These stand out for me but each talk was incredibly interesting and below I’ve put the entire list of places we visited and topics covered by our talks to give you an idea of the history that is out there and sites that you may have previously walked passed having never realized their significance. It was truly a case of Ispyhistory at its best and it’s safe to say that in two years’ time, when this event comes round again, my feet better be ready for a repeat performance!






The Route
1. Lady Somerset and the Temperance Child, Victoria Embankment Gardens (Statue).
2. Benjamin Franklin House, 36 Craven Street, (Plaque). 
3. Mammoths in the Square, Trafalgar Square.
4. The Strand Menagerie, 372 Strand, (Building).
5. Mrs Salmon’s Waxworks, 17 Fleet Street, (Building). 
6. Picasso in London, 51 Floral Street (Plaque).
7. The Slayer of Soho: John Snow’s Pump, 39 Broadwick Street.
8. Banking Natural History, 32 Soho Square (Plaque). 
9. Penning the Vindication, Store Street.   
10. Fitzrovia Revolutionaries, Fitzroy Square (Statue). 
11. Camden Pan-Africanism, 22 Cranleigh Street (Plaque).
12. South African Freedom Fighters, 13 Lyme Street (Plaque). 
13. Gandhi’s London, Tavistock Square (Statue).
14. Emmeline Pankhurst’s House, 8 Russell Square, (Building). 
15. Literary Lights and Colonial Students, Mecklenburgh Square.
16. Anti-Suffragism and Settlement Houses, 42 Queen Square, (Building).
17. The Women’s Freedom League, 144 High Holborn, (Building).
18. Meating One’s Maker, Smithfield Market.
19. ‘The Black Dog of Newgate’, Warwick Lane.
20. Indigenous Transnationals at St Paul’s, (Building).
21. Rude Deeds on Rood Lane, Rood Lane, (Building).
22. Tower Hill Memorial, Trinity Square Gardens, (Memorial).
23. The Falklands Memorial, Trinity Square Gardens, (Memorial).
24. Altab Ali Park, Adler Street, (Memorial).
25. Responding to the Ripper, 14 Cannon Street Road, (Exhibition).
26. Execution Dock, 57 Wapping Wall.

It will come as a little surprise that after a grand total of 13.8 miles, well-earned celebratory drinks and a sit down were then had at the prospect of Whitby Pub!

Sunsets over London
© Elle Larsson

Monday, 20 June 2016

Medicine through Time: The Old Operating Theatre, London Bridge

The Old Operating Theatre, London Bridge
Heading up the 32 step, narrow, circular stone staircase, I was thinking to myself “are we in the right place?” It felt more reminiscent of exploring the tower of Oxford Castle or the spire of St. Peter’s Basicillia rather than heading up to a museum. But it was the right place, for hidden in the attic of St Thomas’s Church in Southwark, is the oldest surviving operating theatre in Europe, dating from 1822.

The operating theatre was originally part of St Thomas’s hospital but when in June 1862 the hospital moved from its original site in Southwark to make way for a railway line to Charing Cross, the theatre was sealed up; only to be rediscovered almost a hundred years later in 1956. After discovery it underwent a process of restoration and was finally opened to the public as a museum in 1962.

The Operating Theatre itself was exactly like all the images I remember seeing in my GCSE Medicine Through Time textbook. It was very simple and in a way, quite clinical, although only if we substitute modern metal for wood, a lot of wood (and we know that that is not the most practical material for constructing an operating theatre from!) But what struck me most while standing there, looking down on the replica operating table, was just how audience centred the experience seemed to be. 

There was more room for observers to watch the surgery than for the patients and surgeons operating. A sense of spectacle really came across. Now that might be a wrong deduction, perhaps the emphasis then was on education and that doctors learnt best by observing surgery first hand, but I can see why the term ‘theatre’ was perhaps adopted to describe the places in which surgery took place. It was a somewhat bizarre experience to then stand at the bottom and look up – this would have overlapped with the age before anaesthetics and antiseptics – I’d have been awake and when I looked up could have had a hundred pairs of eyes staring back at me. Needless to say, I think the whole thing would have been absolutely terrifying!

Alongside the Operating Theatre there is also a Herb Garret, which was used throughout the 18th and 19th centuries by the St. Thomas’ Hospital apothecaries to store herbs and make medicines. I’d been warned about the smell of this part and so was somewhat relieved that it wasn’t too overpowering on this occasion, for this section of the museum is like a treasure trove, brimming with every type of herb, spice or plant needed to produce medicines and herbal remedies to cure an array of ailments. There were also lots of original surgical instruments, apothecary’s equipment, medical books and papers. We even spied the remedies of Thomas Holloway – the man responsible for the creation of Royal Holloway!

The Herb Garret
This was my favourite bit it has to be said. It was like stepping back in time and it encouraged you to use more than one of your senses – always a bonus! You could touch (although not everything), see and smell so many different things. You could have a go at producing pills, weighing ingredients and put back together an anatomical model. It was a good balance – you should know by know how highly I rate interaction and a ‘sense of place’.

Making Pills
Herbs & Spices
So why visit somewhere that induces images of blood, guts and gore? I’m not a fan of hospitals and am pretty squeamish these days, so thinking about it, it’s a pretty odd subject around which to formulate a museum. But also there are the ethical implications of medical case histories and as such, the ability or inability to add a “voice” to the narrative that the museum can tell. And I think this was what was actually missing from the experience – a sense of people’s stories. I know it’s incredibly complicated to convey those sorts of histories but even the voices of doctors or of nurses, wardens or even students were what was really lacking for me and I think that’s what would have given it that little more punch. It was missing a hook for me, the type that comes through connecting to an individual.

All said and done I am really glad we visited – it’s one of those off the beaten track places in London which is definitely worth a visit. I also wish we’d gone as a school trip back in the day, as it would have no doubt brought the whole topic that much more to life! 


As an additional note, it was also interesting that we spied a Rothschild connection in the form of the Evelina Hospital for Sick Children which was originally opened in 1869 having been funded by Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild of Austria in memory of his wife Evelina who had died, along with their son, in childbirth.