A silhouette of a Zeppelin caught in searchlights over the City of London
On the night of September 8th, Kapitanleutnant Heinrich Mathy piloted Zeppelin L 13 across Central London, dropping bombs as they went. The trail of destruction led from University College London, via Russell Sq. to Gray’s Inn Farringdon, Smithfield and out past Liverpool Street to the East End.
Before World War One London was the centre of the largest Empire the world had ever known. It was the first great era of globalisation; international trade and Finance was booming. London was full of the mega-rich, but poverty and substandard housing was extensive. Inner London was still the home of Industry, and home to large immigrant communities. Political dissent was widespread, with the Labour Party beginning to erode the Liberal Party’s power base, and the issue of Female Suffragette was rocking society. Then, catastrophe as ‘the lights went out all over Europe’.
On October 1 1916, Mathy’s L31 Zeppelin burst into flames after attack by the Royal Flying Corp, and near Cuffley, Potters Bar he decided to jump out. He was found by farmers still alive and lying face up but died soon after.
Here, is a podcast originally written for a Zeppelin Walk for London Walks. It includes an eyewitness account by Hugh Turpin of the shooting down of the Zeppelin. Please ignore the dates of walks, as this was a couple of years ago. But I am planning to repeat the virtual tour during the winter of 2024. I hope to revise this post for the October 1st anniversary.
The Master of St Giles, National Gallery. ‘St Giles and the Hind’ This work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author’s life plus 100 years or fewer.
Today, is St Giles’ Feast Day. His story is mostly unknown, but he was thought to be a hermit who had a pet Hind in the Arles District of France perhaps in the 9th Century. The hounds of King Wamba (a Visigothic King) were chasing the deer, and shot an arrow into the undergrowth. The King and his men followed to discover Giles wounded by the arrow, protecting the hind, who he held in his arms. The hounds were miraculously stayed motionless as they leaped towards the hind. Wamba apparently means ‘Big paunch’ in Gothic. He was also called Flavius. Giles was injured in the leg, although the image above shows the arrow in his hand.
St Giles is, therefore, the patron saint of disabled people. He was very popular in medieval Britain, with over 150 churches dedicated to him, including four in London. Perhaps the two most famous are St Giles Without Cripplegate in London and St Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh.
St Giles Cripplegate, photographed by the Author at night from the Barbican Centre.
St Giles Cripplegate was built in the 11th Century, and rebuilt in the 14th Century and again in 1545-50 after nearly being destroyed by fire. It survived the Great Fire of London, being just beyond the extent of the Fire. It was badly damaged in the Blitz, but the Tower and the outer walls survived. Oliver Cromwell married Elizabeth Bourchier here. John Foxe of the Book of Martyrs, John Speed, the Cartographer, Martin Frobisher and John Milton were buried here. Milton’s coffin was opened in 1793 and he was said to have looked as if he had just been buried. One of those present, then tried to pull Milton’s teeth out, which a bystander helped by hitting them with a stone. The few teeth Milton had left in his head were divided between the men, who also took a rib bone and locks of his hair. The Caretaker then opened the coffin for anyone who wanted to see the corpse!
From the London City Wall Trail.
Cripplegate, one of the Gates in the City Wall (originally the North Gate of the Roman Fort) may be named because it was a good place to gather for those trying to beg alms for their disabilities. Although it has also been said that there was an underground tunnel from the Gate’s Barbican to the Gate which in Anglo Saxon is a Crepel. Or because of the cure of cripples when Edmund the Martyr’s remains passed through the gate in 1010.
The Corner Tower of the London City Wall, the Barbican in the background, and the tower of St Giles’ Church behind the Tower. Photo by the author
Title Page of publication Published 1 February 1980 Archaeometry
Today is the day that the World Wide Web was first introduced to the world. I was working as a freelancer at the Freud Museum, in London. The Freud Museum was funded by an American organisation who wanted to support the history of Freud and Psychoanalysis. They were early adopters of email, and one of the staff, Tony Clayton, I think, introduced me to this new thing called the World Wide Web. How soon it changed our lives!
So, this post was to be the first in an occasional series on my role in digital heritage. But it spiralled out of control as if I were writing a multi-volume history of the early use of Computers in Archaeology and Museums.
I’m not, but this is the first of an occasional series that digs into the past of digital.
My use of computers began in 1975/6 when I worked in the Research Laboratory for Archaeology and the History of Art, Keble College, Oxford University. I was a Research Assistant working with Mike Barbetti who was a Research Fellow from Australia and an expert on the science of the earth’s magnetic field and a pioneer in archaeomagnetism.
So what was it all about? In short, the Magnetic Pole does not always point due north. From time to time, it wanders around and sometimes reverses completely. Also, the intensity of the magnetic field changes with time. Mike was interested in the science behind these reversals but also interested in the archaeological by-products of the findings.
We were using archaeology to get well dated samples to plot accurately magnetic fluctuations through time. it was hoped the changes in direction or intensity of the magnetic field would allow archaeological sites to be dated. Secondly, we could use the readings to determine if clay deposits had been heated or not. The iron particles in clay would, when heated, align to the contemporary magnetic field. Mike had collected samples from Africa including Olduvai Gorge and we contributed to the discussions on the first use of fire by the genus homo.
It turned out that dating applications were, however severally limited, as it proved impossible to create an effective reference curve. But from time to time, a use for archaeomagnetism crops up in the literature.
Mike was kind enough to include me as joint author on 3 papers which were accepted by Nature and which remain my most cited papers.
When I thanked him saying how kind it was for him to include me. He made a point of telling me I had every right to have my name on the papers as I not only did a lot of the work but I contributed ideas to the study.
He taught me a lesson that you should always be generous acknowledging contributions.
The specimens were encased in plaster of Paris, I went to a shed in the garden of the terrace house that was the Research Lab, and cut them up up with a saw. We then measured the intensity and direction of the magnetic field in the samples. The results were processed by a computer program written by Mike. I prepared the experimental results on magnetic cards and uploaded them for a data run on the main frame computer at the Oxford University Computer Centre. The Computers were the size of a house, but there was a Unix minicomputer in the basement of our lab. There was always mistakes on the first run and then you reran the programme with edit cards at the front which were coded to do things like: ‘change 127 on the first card to 172’. The corrected results were rerun the next day.
Seems very primitive and slow now but then it was cutting edge technology!
After a couple of years I began my career as a field archaeologist. Having seen how powerful computers could be I decided, in the late 1970’s, that Archaeology needed computers. So I set out to find out how to use them for myself and where they might come in useful. This took me on an exciting journey of exploration which began with signing up for a Part-time PhD at Birkbeck College in Computer Applications in Archaeology, while I continued working at the Museum of London as an archaeologist.
Screenshot concerning the new Logo of the Museum of London
I was quite surprised to see the image above appear in an email to my inbox. The London Museum (was the Museum of London) announced the Pigeon and Splat as the new logo to replace the old Dick Whittington one. I received the email on the 27th July 2024.
Is this a breath of fresh air? An unfussy humourous joke which 5 year old will love? Is a Pigeon uniquely London? Is the Splat too clever by half, or is it completely daft?
I’ll leave it to you to decide. However, a visit to the London Museum Website on 15/08/24 reveals the Pigeon logo displayed without the Splat!
Screenshot of London Museum’s new logo without the Splat!
Further down the page, is an article on the history of Pigeons and London, where there is a vestigial splat!
It seems to me there has been a climb down since I received the email on 27th July. Or are they phasing the Splat! in? Comments please.
For more on the new logo look at the Museums Associations’s Web site here. ‘The pigeon was chosen to symbolise the brand as “an impartial and humble observer of London life”, the museum said in a blog post on the redesign.’
Screenshot from the London Museum Web site with image of a Pigeon with a vestigial Splat!
The ‘Agas’Map of 16th Century Map of London showing the Abbey of the Minoresses of St Clare with the yellow circle and St Botolphs in mauve just outside Aldgate. from the Map of Early Modern London project.
Today is the Feast day of St Clare of Assisi. An area of London, called the Minories, is still to this day named after the Abbey of the Minoresses of St. Clare without Aldgate which was founded in 1294. The Abbey was part of the Order of St Clare or the Poor Clares as they were known . A minoress was a nun from the Order of Friars Minor (aka Franciscans) .who were also known as the Minoresses of St Clare.
Fresco of Saint Clare and sisters of her order, church of San Damiano, Assisi Wikipedia
Clare Sciffi was born in Assisi to a rich family. On Palm Sunday, 20 March 1212 Clare left her house, after refusing offers of advantageous marriage. She had been inspired by hearing St Francis the founder of the Franciscan Monks who was also from Assisi. St Francis facilitated her transfer to Benedictine Nunneries. Her sisters followed her, one renamed Agnes became an Abbess and eventually a saint in her own right. Her family tried repeatedely to take her back into secular life, but eventually gave in, apparently when they saw that she had cut her flowing locks off and donned a plain robe.
A small nunnery was set up for them next to the church of San Damiano, additional women joined, and they became known as the “Poor Ladies of San Damiano”. They undertook to live in poverty, and seclusion.
The Franciscan friars were an itinerant order where the Friars preached to the people and were supported by begging. But this was not possible for women at that time so they lived a simple life of labour and prayer.:
‘The nuns went barefoot, slept on the ground, ate no meat, and observed almost complete silence.’ Wikipedia
Here are a couple of sites which take the story further.
My WordPress system decided to publish my notes upon the Parrot rather than reminding me to finish off the page. So, here is the updated post again.
The Parrot was republished for free on August 4th 2024 by the York St Johns University Critical Editions team, and they have enabled you to get your free copy by following the link at the bottom of the post.
Published in 1746 ‘The Parrot’ by Elizabeth Haywood was a satire on the male-dominated London Society of the time. It was published in 9 parts. The name comes from the viewpoint from a Parrot’s perch in a wealthy London house. The Parrot is an enslaved creature that has travelled the world, observer to its follies. The bird wonders why people should dismiss opinions simply on the basis of A Parrot’s green colour.
The introduction to the author by the team says:
‘Eliza Haywood (c. 1693-1756) was one of the first generation of writers to “live by her pen.” Throughout her career, Haywood adopted many roles: she was an actress, playwright, novelist and prolific essayist.However, she always used her platform to celebrate and advocate for women.‘
St Germanus of Auxerre, Window in St Paul’s parish church, Morton, Lincolnshire, made by Sir Edward Burne-Jones and William Morris in 1914. Photo by Jenny of Jules & Jenny from Lincoln, UK (CC BY 2.0 Wikimedia Photo by Jenny of Jules & Jenny from Lincoln, UK)
St Germanus is the source of one of the few contemporary references to Britain in the 5th Century (the Dark Ages). One of his followers wrote his life story. The Saint, a Bishop in France, was sent to Britain because the Pelagian Heresy was endangering the Catholic version of Christianity. Pelagius was a highly educated British (or possibly Irish) priest who moved to Rome in the late 4th Century. He lived by a strict moral code, attacking Catholic laxity and opposing St Augustine of Hippo’s theory of Divine Grace. By contrast, Pelagius promoted human choice in salvation and denied the doctrine of original sin. Wikipedia tells us that he:
considered it an insult to God that humans could be born inherently sinful or biased towards sin, and Pelagius believed that the soul was created by God at conception, and therefore could not be imbued with sin as it was solely the product of God’s creative agency.
17th Century print of Pelagius
Germanus was sent to Britain, where he confronted Pelagian converts in a public debate which is thought to have taken place in a disused Roman amphitheatre. The author is not interested in Britain, per se, so does not tell us which town it was, but, it is mostly assumed to be St Albans, although London is possible.
In the stadium, the Saint and his acolytes confound the heretics and, so, convert the town’s people sitting watching the debate. St Germanus goes to a nearby shrine of St Alban to thank God, falls asleep in a hut, and is miraculously saved from a fire. He then comes across a man called a Tribune, and helps defeat a Saxon army in the ‘Alleluia’ victory. The importance of all this is that it, in about 429AD, gives us a few glimpses of Britain two decades after the Romans have left, and that Britain stayed in the Catholic fold.
The British Bishops were led in their heresy by someone called Agricola. The writer describes these bishops as ‘conspicuous for riches, brilliant in dress and surrounded by a fawning multitude’. The use of the title ‘Tribune’ in the story suggests Roman administrative titles are still in use 19 years after the date of the ‘formal’ end of Roman Britain, 410AD. The Alleluia victory over the Saxons also gives us an early date for Saxon presence in the country as an enemy.
St Albans is the favoured choice for the location of the event because, Bede tells us St Albans was born, martyred and commemorated in Verulamium, now called St Albans. Archaeology shows possible post Roman occupation of the town. And it has a famous Amphitheatre.
However, Gildas, who is writing 200 years or more before Bede, tells us St Alban was born in Verulamium but martyred in London, which makes sense as London was the late Roman Capital and more likely to be the site of a martyrdom. There is also a church dedicated to St Albans close to the Roman Amphitheatre, where Gildas tells us the execution took place. The Church cannot, unfortunately, be, archaeologically dated back to 429AD.
Bede’s account of the martyrdom of St Albans is also somewhat farcical, as God divides the waters of the River Ver for Alban to get to his martyrdom more quickly. The bridge was said to be full of people walking to witness Alban’s execution, and blocking Albans path to Heaven. But the Ver is but a piddle, and it would be easy to walk over without needing wellington boats, let along a miracle to get to the otherside. This story is much more impressive,in Gildas’ version who has the miraculous crossing over the River Thames.
Had Pelegius won and the Roman Church had a more optimistic view of the human spirit, would it have made any difference? It’s a big question, but maybe it would have left less room for pessimism and guilt?
What were the effects of original sin? …. it damaged our relationship with God. He seemed distant, we became mistrustful. We lost sanctifying grace. The weakening of the will, making us more prone to temptation. The darkening of the intellect. Increased vulnerability to sickness and disease. Spiritual death.
Germanus died in Ravenna.
For more on Nick Fuentes and his theories on St Germanus, St Patrick and King Arthur click here:
The Ashwini kumaras twins, sons of the sun god Surya. Vedic gods representing the brightness of sunrise and sunset Wikipedia
The Divine Twins, aka the Dioscuri, were horsemen, patrons of calvary, athletes and sailors, one of many indo-european twin gods. Pollux is the son of Zeus and Leda (raped by Zeus in the guise of a swan). His twin brother has a different and mortal father, the King of Sparta to the same mother, Leda. So they are examples of heteropaternal superfecundation as Mary Poppins probably didn’t sing.
One is therefore immortal and the other isn’t. They had many adventures including sailing with Jason as Argonauts.
According to some version of the story Castor was mortally wounded, and Zeus gave Pollux the option of letting his brother die while Pollux could spend eternity on Mount Olympus. The alternative was to share his immortality with his brother. He did the good thing, and the twins spend half their year as the Constellation of Gemini and the rest, immortal, on Mount Olympus. Thus, they are the epitome of brotherly love.
Their sisters were no less than Helen of Troy and Clytemnestra. They were also twins, Helen the divine daughter of Zeus and, Clytemnestra, mortal daughter of the King of Sparta.
It happened like this. The Swan was being pursued by an eagle, so Leda protected the Swan and took it to bed. On the same night she slept with her husband Tyndareus of Sparta. Two eggs were fertilised, each split in two to give two sets of twins.
Never mind the Brothers, what Sisters! Helen you know. But Clytemnestra? She was the wife of Agamemnon, the arrogant leader of the Greeks. On the way to retrieve Helen from Troy, the Greek Fleet was becalmed. So, on advice, Agamemnon sacrificed his own daughter, Iphigenia, on the island of Aulis in exchange for a fair wind to Troy. (read Iphigenia at Aulis by Aeschylus, a great play which I studied in Classical Studies at University)
Meanwhile, Queen Clytemnestra, abandoned at home, broods on her husband’s heartless fillicide. She takes a lover. After 10 years of war, Agamemnon comes back, in triumph from the destruction of Troy, with his prize, the Trojan Princess, Cassandra. Strutting with arrogance, he demands Clytemnestra prepare him a bath, and, so she does, she gives him the hottest bath possible. With the help of her lover, she hacks Agamemnon to pieces with an axe.
Cassandra prophesizes that she too will be a victim. She has been gifted with the ability of accurate prophecy, albeit twinned with the inability to get anyone to believe her! She is also slaughtered.
I visit John Collier’s painting of Clytemnestra at the Guildhall regularly and am fascinated by her grim expression.
In the 18th/19th Century rich people were into ‘attitudes’. For example, Emma Hart, later Lady Hamilton, would be invited to present an attitude in front of a dinner party of mostly male aristocrats. She would dress up in a flowing revealing unstructured classical gown and stand on a table presenting herself as: Helen or Andromache or any other classical beauty guests might fancy an eyeful of. She would assume an appropriate facial expression and posture for everyone’s pleasure.
Detail of Emma Hart modelling as Iphigenia by George Romney in ‘Cimon and Iphigenia’
Being Clytemnestra is difficult! I imagine Collier’s model being prompted to look both sad at the loss of the daughter; outraged at the arrogance of the husband; horror at the gore of the murder but overall to portray a grim satisfaction that the bastard got exactly what he deserved.
Lord Leighton had a famous model who was exceptionally skilled at adopting poses for his paintings. He determined to help her with an acting career. As part of the plan he helped improve her cockney accent, and it is said this inspired Bernard Shaw’s story Pygmalion which, in turn, inspired My Fair Lady and Eliza Doolittle.
Leighton’s model was Dorothy Dene. She became a famous actress, outstripping the fame of Ellen Terry and Lily Langtry. She modelled for the famous painting ‘Flaming June’ which sold 500,000 print copies in 1895. Lord Leighton went somewhat out of fashion and the original painting was purchased for £50 by the rather marvellously named Museo de Ponce, Puerto Rico where she still resides.
I have one of those half million prints on my bedroom wall.
Print of Flaming June by Lord Leighton
Before we finish, do have a look at John Collier’s Wikipedia because he is the most ridiculously well-connected painter you can imagine! Related to half the Cabinet and married to TWO daughters of Darwin’s Bulldog T.H.Huxley (grandfather of Aldous Huxley).
For more on Flaming June see my blog post of 12 July 2024
European Twin Gods
It is suggested that twin male gods are a feature of Indo-European religions, and that the Twins are associated with horses/chariots and are responsible for moving the Sun and the Moon. Their use of a horse above the water means that they can rescue people lost at sea. St Elmo’s fire was said to be the way they manifested their divinity to sailors. Diodorus Siculus records that the Twins were Argonauts with Heracles, Telamon, and Orpheus. Further, he tells us in the fourth book of Bibliotheca historica, that the Celts who dwelt along the ocean worshipped the Dioscuroi “more than the other gods”.
Copy of the Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinca at the Collection Gallery, Royal Academy, UK (Copy made 1515-1520, and was in the Carthusian Monsatery at Pavia in the 17th Century before being brought to the RA in the 19th Century)
Whilst visiting Flaming June at the RA, it was nice to have another look at the Last Supper. What strikes me most is their sandals (and the beautifully pressed table cloth).
Detail of the RA copy of the Last Supper
Details that bring the past to life. The shoes would surely sell today, while the table cloth really destroys the common idea that the past was dirty and smelly. It wasn’t. People took pride in their appearance and surroundings. Just look at the ironing!
Here, by way of contrast, is a medieval shoe from the 14th Century from the Museum of London. And this is a link to the Museum of London’s collections of medieval shoes, most have been collected from excavations, and it is one of the best collections.
Philip Mould Galley,Bond Street.The home of painter Mary Beale
Yesterday, I was asked to do two Jane Austen’s London walks. The walk explores Mayfair, where her brother, Henry lived and had his Bank, and where Austen placed the central drama of Sense and Sensibility. I decided to use the time between the walks to look for a shopping mall which dates back to Jane Austen’s time, but I got diverted as I saw a sign for a free exhibition on Mary Beale in Pall Mall.
Mary Beale is that rare beast; a professional female artist of the 17th Century (1633-1699). So, I double-checked the ‘free entry’ notice because this was a posh West End private art gallery and the name Philip Mould was familiar. I went in and realised that this was something special. I returned to the entrance to ask the very friendly staff whether I could take photographs. ‘Yes, of course, they said.’ much to my surprise.
Mary Beale Exhibition sign.
Downstairs, the art of Mary Beale was beautifully displayed, and the exhibition had a very interesting story to tell, which was well-told, using excellent labels and a film narrated by Philip Mould. He was, as I thought, the co-presenter of ‘Fake or Fortune’ (with Fiona Bruce, newsreader and anchor of the BBC’s Antiques Roadshow). This is a BBC art programme which is in its 12th Series. The conceit of the show is that they investigate dubious paintings to find out whether they are genuine or not.
The film revealed that Philip Mould opened his Art Gallery here over a decade ago, but research has recently discovered that this is the very address where Mary Beale had her studio.
Scene shot of Philip Mould in the Mary Beale Exhibition in his short film shot in his Art Gallery.
Her career is not only remarkable in itself, but it was recorded in great detail by her husband. She was the bread winner. He was her partner, and in effect the studio manager. In correspondence, he describes her as his ‘dearest heart’.
Self-Portrait of Mary, with her husband and son
It was a family business and their children also worked as painting assistants, doing draperies and other background details. Her paintings gave them an income of around £200 a year, which is not riches but, by comparison, a labourer got about £30 a year.
She was associated with Sir Peter Lely, the Court painter who succeeded Van Dyke. Mary Beale made copies of many of his paintings. She also painted many pictures of her family.
Mary Beale’s painting after Sir Peter Lely’s portrait of Charles II
There are several excellent short films about Mary Beale on the Gallery’s web site, which is well worth a visit. The exhibition ends on the 19th July, but there is also, for you to see, Tate Britain’s exhibition ‘Now you see us’ which is the story of British female artists from the 1520’s to 1920.
On the way back from the Gallery, I popped into the Royal Academy to renew an old acquaintance with ‘Flaming June’ by Lord Leighton, a copy of which hangs on my bedroom wall, and which is on one of its rare visits to the UK. There is also the statue of the Sluggard and it’s all free to view.
Flaming June by Lord LeightonThe Sluggard by Lord Leighton
It is days like this, that you realise what a wonderful thing it is to live in London. All this superb art, and all without laying out a penny (travelling on my free travel pass too!).
I wrote about Flaming June in a post you can read here.
