Wednesday, 9 August 2017

The Streets of Old Southwark: Peckham - The Growth of a Victorian Suburb

A visitor to London, exploring the Borough of Southwark, and having visited the remnants of the Great North Wood, extending between Sydenham and Dulwich, can board a Number 33 bus from Crescent Wood Road, heading north towards Tower Bridge. The journey takes us through a largely residential area of London, passing the Horniman Museum on the left.

The Horniman Museum. Photo: I.M. Chengappa (licensed under CCA).

Founded at the end of the Nineteenth Century by Frederick Horniman, the heir to a fortune built on the import of tea, the museum has stunning natural history and ethnographic collections, including one of the UK's most extensive collections of musical instruments from around the World. After a journey of around half an hour, we alight at Peckham Rye Station.

Until the mid-Nineteenth Century, Peckham was "a small, quiet, retired village, surrounded by fields," traces of which can still be glimpsed on Peckham Rye Common, and in Peckham Rye Park. As a child in the mid-Eighteenth Century, William Blake would often walk here from his home in Soho, and began to experience the visions that would inform his later writing and art: on one occasion, he saw the Prophet Ezekiel under a bush; and, on another, an angel in a tree.

Peckham Rye Common. Photo: Kate Tierney (licensed under CCA).

Angels, by William Blake (image is in the Public Domain).

The River Peck, in Peckham Rye Park, one of many small rivers that run beneath London's streets, largely unnoticed by modern Londoners. Photo: Rob Kam (licensed under GNU).

Stagecoaches from the south coast and Kent passed through Peckham on their way to London, escorted by armed guards, as a precaution against highwaymen. Drovers from Kent also stopped here with their livestock, and, typically, sold them here to local graziers, who would fatten them up before selling them on to City butchers (only freemen of the City were permitted to drive livestock over London Bridge).

Mural on a Peckham public house, commemorating the lives of Kentish drovers. Photo: Oxyman (licensed under CCA).

Peckham was transformed in the mid-Nineteenth Century, first by the establishment by the entrepreneur, Thomas Tilling, of a horse-drawn omnibus service connecting it to London in 1851; and, in the decades that followed, by the coming of the railways (the London, Chatham, & Dover Railway in 1865, and the London, Brighton, & South Coast Railway in 1866). The railways opened the area up to property developers, and to the growing legions of clerical workers who made their homes in the suburbs, rather than in the increasingly crowded streets of The City and Westminster.

A Tilling Omnibus. Photo: KellyASands (licensed under CCA).

Whilst the senior clerks of City banks, insurance and legal firms made their homes on the main thoroughfares once used by stagecoaches and drovers, the side-streets and alleys within a stone's throw of them housed the poorer families on whose services their wealthier neighbours depended: blacksmiths, carpenters, joiners, decorators, railway and postal workers, bus conductors, brewers, and bakers.

Charles Booth's "Poverty Map" of Lambeth & Southwark, including Peckham: streets coded in yellow and red indicate the most prosperous households; those in purple and black the poorest ones. Image: London School of Economics Booth/E/1/11 (image is in the Public Domain). 

On the 10th October, 1899, the social researcher, Ernest Aves (a colleague of Charles Booth), accompanied PC Dolby on his beat, starting on Peckham High Street. Whilst he recorded "large garden fronts" on the wider streets, he found the narrower alleys, such as Stanton Street, "dull and depressing:" the policeman explained that the street had an "indifferent reputation," with "two or three wife-beaters living in it." There were even some streets where "the police do not patrol," and "Dolby had never been up;" streets in which burglars were known to live, and in which murders had taken place; yet there were other streets nearby, occupied mainly by "conductors and drivers," with lively beer-houses and taverns.

The worst accommodation in late-Nineteenth and early-Twentieth Century Peckham was very bad indeed, and, in the 1930s, residents of Nigel Street staged a rent strike in protest at the unsanitary conditions in which their landlord expected them to live. Oswald Mosley's blackshirts tried to hijack the protest, pointing out that the landlord in question was Jewish; but the residents chased them away, insisting that their objections were to his practices as a landlord, not his ethnicity or religion.

The Peckham rent strike, 1935 (image is in the Public Domain).

Returning to Peckham Rye Station, our visitor can board a southbound Number 78 bus, for the next stage of the journey.

Mark Patton is a published author of historical fiction and non-fiction, whose books can be purchased from Amazon.

Tuesday, 1 August 2017

The Year in Medieval Art: August

The month of August is named after the Roman Emperor, Augustus, and, whilst his image sometimes occurs in Medieval books of hours, it was not an image that any Roman would have recognised. Medieval artists depicted ancient figures, whether historical or mythological, with the clothes and attributes of their own time.

The Emperor Augustus, portrayed as a Medieval monarch. Bedford Hours, 1410-30, British Library Add. MS 18850 (image is in the Public Domain).

Calendar page for August, from the Black Hours, 1471-3, Morgan Library MS 493 (image is in the Public Domain).

It was the month during which, for most Medieval European communities, the principle harvest of cereal crops was either safely gathered in or, failing that, a serious problem had to be confronted, typically through trade. Trading partners understood this, and could be expected to adjust their prices accordingly, so everything possible would be done to ensure a successful harvest.

Some images show the harvest itself continuing into August, and this, of course, would depend upon the weather, and would vary between one region and another.

Image from the Golf Book, 1520-30, showing the harvest continuing in August. British Library, Add. MS. 24098, f 25v (image is in the Public Domain).  

More commonly, however, the images for August show the processing of grain, specifically the processes of threshing and winnowing, and the storing of the grain in granaries. In the Mediterranean lands, threshing and winnowing would be undertaken on open-air stone threshing floors, the inedible husks broken either by hand, using a flail (a tool as old as agriculture itself, and carried as a symbol of power by Egyptian Pharaohs, to indicate their sacred role in ensuring the success of the annual harvest); or with a threshing sled, a wooden implement inset with sharp flint blades, dragged back and forth across the grain either by manpower or by beasts. The crop would then be gathered up in winnowing baskets and thrown into the air: the winds carrying away the chaff; the edible grain falling back onto the threshing floor, from whence it could be gathered up into sacks to be stored, and, ultimately, taken to the miller to be turned into flour.

Image from the Bedford Hours, 1410-30, British Library Add. Ms. 18850 (image is in the Public Domain). The man on the left threshes the grain with a flail, whilst the woman on the right, representing the astrological sign of Virgo, presides over the sacks of grain.

Threshing (with flails) and winnowing, 1500-25 (image is in the Public Domain). 

Threshing and winnowing, c 1460 (image is in the Public Domain). 

A modern threshing floor on Santorini, Greece. Photo: Stas Zvrek (licensed under GNU).

Threshing with a sled, near Valencia, Spain. Photo: Pelayo 2 (licensed under GNU).

Flint blades in a threshing sled. Photo: Jose-Manuel Benito (image is in the Public Domain). 

In northern Europe, where rainfall threatened the crop even at this late stage, threshing and winnowing were carried out indoors, in special barns with their long axes built at right angles to the prevailing wind. Opposed pairs of large doors ensured a through-draft of wind, allowing the grain and chaff to be separated in much the same way.

Threshing in a barn, 1500-25 (image is in the Public Domain).

Tithe barn at Bradford-Upon-Avon, c 1340. Photo: RODW (image is in the Public Domain).

The interior of the tithe barn at Bradford-Upon-Avon. Photo: Nessino (licensed under CCA).

Not until all the grain was safely stored could people breathe a sigh of relief, and turn their attentions to celebration and recreation.

Scene of falconry, from Les Tres Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, 1412-16, Musee Conde (image is in the Public Domain). The castle in the background is the Chateau d'Etampes.

Mark Patton is a published author of historical fiction and non-fiction, whose books can be purchased from Amazon.

Friday, 21 July 2017

The Streets of Old Southwark: Remnants of the Great North Wood

A visitor to London, exploring the Borough of Southwark, and having visited Dulwich Village, can walk south along College Road, crossing the South Circular Road, and passing the present buildings of Dulwich School, designed by Sir Charles Barry (who, with Augustus Pugin, also designed the Palace of Westminster), and built in 1840, when the needs of the school had long-since outgrown the buildings endowed to it by Edward Alleyn.

Dulwich College. Photo: Noel Foster (licensed under CCA).

A little further up the hill, a toll-booth, dating back to 1789, reminds us that we are, in fact, on private land. Beyond this is a path that leads into surprisingly dense woodland. Dulwich Wood and Sydenham Hill Wood are, in a sense, remnants of the "Great North Wood," which once extended over much of what is now south London. This wood (which also gives its name to the suburb of Norwood) was granted to the monks of Bermondsey Abbey by Henry I in 1127. Five centuries later, parts of it were owned by Alleyn.

The College Road Tollgate. Photo: Spsmiler (image is in the Public Domain).

The Table of Tolls. Photo: Spsmiler (image is in the Public Domain).

The view east from Dulwich Wood towards Battersea Power Station. Photo: Robkam (image is in the Public Domain).  

Natural as it appears, it is not true "wild-wood," almost none of which exists anywhere in the British Isles. Woodland has been actively managed across these islands since the Neolithic period, five to six thousand years ago: and the monks would have managed it in much the same way as Alleyn managed it; by dividing it up into "coppices," leased out to one or more tenants, often members of the same family, since coppices were harvested in rotation.

Coppicing involves trees being regularly cut down to near ground level, and allowed to grow up again from new shoots. Birch can be coppiced for faggots on a three to four year cycle; oak for poles or firewood on a fifty year cycle. Different species, and various lengths of cycle, produced wood for different purposes: cart-making; wattle fencing; thatching spars; charcoal for industrial burning.

Recently coppiced alder. Photo: Cat James, Naturenet (licensed under GNU).

The same coppice after one year's growth (the predominant species in the Great North Wood is likely to have been oak, which follows a longer cycle). Photo: Cat James, Naturenet (licensed under GNU).

The coppicing process. Image: Javier Martin (licensed under GNU).

Some trees would have been allowed to grow for longer, but would then be pollarded (the upper branches cut off, and allowed to regrow), both to provide the larger timbers needed for the construction and ship-building industries; and, in the case of oak, to provide acorns, on which the tenants would have grazed their pigs.

Oak pollard. Photo: Rodolph (licensed under GNU).

This mix of activities: coppicing; pollarding; and the grazing of pigs; ensured that plenty of light reached the woodland floor, creating an environment in which bluebells, anemones, and primroses could thrive. In Sydenham Hill and Dulwich Woods today, these native species jostle alongside introduced survivors from Victorian Gardens, such as rhododendrons and buddleia; and, whilst the foxes and badgers may be descended from those that roamed these hills in prehistoric times, the native red squirrels have long since been displaced by their American grey cousins. The woodland remains a sanctuary, however, for species that we rarely see in the more built up areas of the metropolis.
The Green Woodpecker. Photo: Hans-Jorg Hellwig (licensed under CCA).

The Nuthatch. Photo: Peter Mulligan (licensed under CCA).

In the later Seventeenth Century, particularly after London's Great Fire, with a reduced demand for timber, the active management of woodland declined. Gypsies colonised the woods, and told the fortunes of Londoners who rode out to meet them, including, in 1688, the wife and daughters of Samuel Pepys.
Margaret Finch, the "Queen of the Norwood Gypsies," who died in 1740, at the age of 108 (image is in the Public Domain). It may have been her mother or aunt who told the fortunes of Pepys's family. Her daughter, "Old Bridget," is buried in the Dulwich Village Cemetery. 

The coming of the railways, in the mid-Nineteenth Century, dissected many of the remaining woodlands of Greater London, but, where these railways have subsequently been decommissioned, as is the case here, nature, in both its native and invasive guises, has been quick to reassert itself.

A train leaving Lordship Lane Station, by Camille Pissarro, 1871, Courthauld Institute of Art (image is in the Public Domain).

The line of the railway track today (closed in 1954). Photo: Robkam (licensed under CCA).

The footbridge today. Photo: Roger W. Howarth (licensed under CCA). 

From the woodland, we can re-emerge onto Crescent Wood Road, close to the top of the Sydenham Ridge, and, from there, take the southbound Number 363 bus for the next stage in our journey.

Mark Patton is a published author of historical fiction and non-fiction, whose books can be purchased from Amazon.

Thursday, 13 July 2017

The Streets of Old Southwark: The Manor of Dulwich

A visitor to London, exploring the Borough of Southwark and arriving at Dulwich Village, finds himself or herself in an environment that really does feel like a village, rather than a corner of one of the World's great metropolises. It existed as a village as early as 967 AD, when King Edgar granted it to one of his thanes, Earl Aelfheah. The name, "Dulwich," comes from the Anglo-Saxon "Dilwihs," meaning "Dill-Meadow." The herb, dill, goes particularly well with fish, so the families that worked Aelfheah's land probably harvested it, and took it into London to sell around the fish-wharves of Billingsgate. In 1333, before the Black Death struck England, the population of Dulwich numbered one hundred.

In 1605, the Manor of Dulwich was purchased by Edward Alleyn. Regular followers of this blog have already encountered him as a theatrical impresario and Marlovian actor, but, having made his fortune and set up his family in rural Dulwich, he was ready to give something back to the community, with one eye doubtless on his immortal soul, and the other on his enduring reputation.

In 1619, Alleyn founded a school, "God's Gift" (now Dulwich College), for the education of twelve orphaned London-boys, admitted from the age of six. The establishment had a chapel (in which Alleyn is buried), a school-house, and twelve alms-houses. The first fifteen masters of the school were all members of Alleyn's family, the last such being George Allen (the family changed the spelling of their name during the Eighteenth Century), who retired in 1857.

Christ's Chapel of God's Gift, Dulwich. Photo: DeFacto (licensed under CCA).

Alleyn's tombstone within the chapel. Photo: Stephencdickson (licensed under CCA).

"Old-Time Tuition at Dulwich College," by Walter Charles Horsley (1855-1904), Dulwich Picture Gallery 607 (image is in the Public Domain).

Among the alumni of Dulwich College was the Antarctic explorer, Ernest Shackleton, and the college owns the small boat, the James Caird, in which, against the odds, he led five companions to safety in 1916, in a journey of 800 nautical miles from Elephant Island to South Georgia.

The "James Caird" being pulled ashore on South Georgia, 10th May 1916. The illustration, from Shackleton's book, "South," is almost certainly by the expedition artist, George Marston (image is in the Public Domain).

Dulwich College has relocated a short distance away (more on this in a future post), but beside the original foundation is the Dulwich Picture Gallery, probably the first purpose-designed public art-gallery in Europe, with important works by Rembrandt, Gainsborough, Hogarth, Reynolds, Rubens, Claude, Canaletto, Raphael and Veronese.

Sir Francis Bourgeois (1753-1811) and Noel Desenfans (1744-1807) were London art-dealers, who collected many of the paintings for Stanislaus Augustus, the King of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, which was dissolved before he could take delivery of them. They tried, unsuccessfully, to persuade the British Government to accept them as the core of a national collection, and, ultimately, they were bequeathed to Dulwich College.

Sir Francis Bourgeois and Noel Desenfans, by Paul Sandby, Dulwich Picture Gallery 645 (image is in the Public Domain).

The gallery itself was designed by the architect, Sir John Soane, and opened to the public in 1817. Even before this, it was open to students of the Royal Academy of Arts: and Constable, Turner, and Van Gogh were among the many students who would visit, and find inspiration there.

Dulwich Picture Gallery, main entrance. Photo: Poliphilo (licensed under CCA).

Dulwich Picture Gallery interior. Photo: Bridgeman (licensed under GNU). Natural lighting from above is a key element of Soanes's design.

Unusually, Soane's design includes a mausoleum for the gallery's founders, Sir Francis Bourgeois, Noel Desenfans, and Noel's wife, Margaret. The mausoleum and west wing of the gallery were badly damaged by a German V1 bomb in July 1944. Human remains from the caskets were scattered across the lawn, and the bones of the three individuals, who had been so close in life, are now mingled in the three restored caskets.

The Mausoleum at Dulwich Picture Gallery. Photo: Poliphilo (licensed under CCA).

Margaret Desenfans, by Moussa Ayoub, after Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dulwich Picture Gallery 627 (image is in the Public Domain).  

From Dulwich Village, we can proceed on foot to an even more rural corner of one of London's most urban boroughs.

Signpost in Dulwich Village. Photo: Velela (licensed under GNU).

Mark Patton is a published author of historical fiction and non-fiction, whose books can be purchased from Amazon.

Saturday, 8 July 2017

"The Hanging Murders" - Guest Post with Rex Carothers

Today I am interviewing American writer, Rex Carothers, to mark the publication of his debut novel, The Hanging Murders. Rex, please tell us something about your novel, and how you came to write it.

Between 1932 and 1942, five unknown transient males were murdered by hanging in the high desert of Inyo County, California. None of the murders were solved; the victims were not identified; there were no leads or suspects. The unsolved murders became cold cases. Fifteen years after the last Hanging Murder, a new killing, exactly like all the others, lands on the desk of Jim Cobb, Sheriff of Inyo County. Jim had been elected Sheriff twelve months previously, taking over the job from his father, Merrill, who had served as Sheriff since 1920. The most recent victim was found in an abandoned barn, near the community of Bishop, fifty miles north of the main Sheriff's office in Independence.  

Bishop, California. Photo: Robert Campbell (licensed under GNU).

The Inyo County Courthouse, Independence. Photo: Pbjamesphoto (licensed under CCA).

Jim has taken bereavement leave from his job as Sheriff. On the previous 4th July, Jim's wife, Harriet, and their daughter, Kendall, were killed in a head-on car-crash as they drove down to Los Angeles. Since the funerals, he has found solace in a "4 Roses" Bourbon bottle. He is reluctant to return to work and take on the necessary job of apprehending the murderer, which his father failed to accomplish fifteen years earlier. A week after the return of the Hanging Murderer, a second murder is discovered, in an area west of Lone Pine, in the Alabama Hills area, where motion pictures have been made since the 1920s. The body, in an abandoned car, has been found by two British motion picture location scouts. 
The Alabama Hills. Photo: Bobak Ha'Em (licensed under CCA).

The latest victim is Barton Haskell, a retired Sheriff's Deputy, the best friend and former mentor of Jim Cobb, and the owner of the Cowboy Bar in Lone Pine. The news of Barton's murder kicks Jim in the head like a disgruntled ornery mule, and he swears not to have another drink until he has captured Barton's murderer, and solved the Hanging Murders. 

Lone Pine, California. Photo: Bobak Ha'Em (licensed under CCA).

Inyo County is one of the most remote districts of California. The landscape is known to some of us from Westerns, such as Ride the High County, and Nevada Smith, and the social environment of small-town America will be familiar to anyone who has read Raymond Carver, but what inspired you to choose it as the location for your novel?

Mark, I'm a "Baby Boomer," who was weaned on Westerns on TV, and at the movies. I love reading murder mysteries, police procedurals, and forensics. Inyo County is the home of filming outdoor location scenes for films and TV since 1920. Putting all my loved together was a no-brainer. I've driven between Reno and Los Angeles, on State Route 395, many times, visiting Lone Pine, the Alabama Hills area, and the town of Bishop for Mule Days. The area also includes Mount Whitney, the tallest peak in the continental United States, but also the lowest feature, Death Valley. The high desert is filled with panoramic vistas, desolate terrain, limited water resources, and few people. 

Death Valley. Photo: Scott Calron (licensed under GNU).

Historically, Inyo County is the home to two different, but equally important, locations. The Owens Valley, from which Los Angeles stole water through an aqueduct designed by Mulholland, and paid for by the Los Angeles Times; and the scourge of the area, Manzanar, the Internment Camp of Japanese Americans during World War II. 

Japanese American internees being taken from Lone Pine to Manzanar. Photo: Clem Albers, National Archives & Records Administration, NAID 536240 (image is in the Pubic Domain).

The murders themselves span a period of three decades, from the 1930s to the 1950s. Were they inspired by real cases, or are they wholly fictional?

The Hanging Murders doesn't arise from real facts, but from my own skewed imagination. 

The novel is billed as "A Jim Cobb Murder Mystery," Jim being the Sheriff, who has succeeded his own father in the role. Do you have other cases in mind for him?

My next Jim Cobb Mystery will centre on the killings of Japanese Nationals after Pearl Harbour, witnessed by a young cowboy on his last camping trip in the mountains above Death Valley, a week before he entered the Army in 1942. Twenty years after witnessing the murders, the horror of what a teenager saw before going off to war now intermingle with the memories of what the returned veteran sees each night in his nightmares, twenty years after the fact.  

"The two women in my life were taken away in a horrific car-crash ... Unknown to me at the time, my wife was en-route to a rendezvous with her lover, to start a new life. The interloper was a history professor at UCLA by the name of Patrick Jensen PhD ... Three weeks after her death, I found her diary with her luggage returned after the crash. It detailed her insatiable sexual demands, her childish fantasy about happiness, what kind of man she wanted, a fairytale from Victorian times."

"The couple rode in Edith's 1953 Chevrolet Bel Air convertible, in a baby-blue colour, three-speed automatic transmission, power steering, and a new one-piece windshield. They drove west from the centre of town on one Pine Creek Road, looking a the snow-capped peaks of the High Sierra Nevada, with the highest peak in the 48 States, Mount Whitney. The Alabama Hills covered the next twelve miles north. The uncommon-shaped boulders and stone pinnacles portrayed old west desert settings to a far flung vision of the Far East."

The Hanging Murders, by Rex Carothers, is published by Crooked Cat Publications, and can be purchased from Amazon.