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If you start noticing London’s public statues and busts (and you absolutely should), you’ll quickly realise something. There are a lot of men. In fact, around 90% of London’s public statues are of men. There are reportedly more statues of named animals in the capital than there are of real or non-mythical women. So, in honour of International Women’s Day, here’s a wander through some of the brilliant women who have made it onto London’s plinths. It’s not exhaustive. But it’s a start. Queen Victoria – The Reigning Champion of Plinth Space If there were an award for “Most Statues in London”, Queen Victoria would win it without breaking a sweat. She has twelve statues in the capital alone. Ten of them are full-length public sculptures. The most famous, of course, is the vast Victoria Memorial outside Buckingham Palace. Whatever you think of the Victorian era, Victoria certainly cornered the market in commemorative stone. Millicent Fawcett – Courage Calls to Courage Everywhere In 2018, history shifted slightly in Parliament Square. For the first time, a statue of a woman was installed there: Millicent Fawcett. A leading figure in the suffrage movement, Fawcett campaigned for women’s voting rights for over sixty years, favouring debate and persistence over militancy. She’s depicted holding a banner reading: “Courage calls to courage everywhere” - words she spoke after the death of Emily Davison. Fittingly, the statue was created by Turner Prize winning artist, Gillian Wearing - the first statue in Parliament Square made by a woman, too. Read more here. Florence Nightingale - The Lady with the Lamp A pioneer of modern nursing, Florence Nightingale led teams during the Crimean War, transformed hospital hygiene, and revolutionised medical statistics. Her statue at Waterloo Place shows her as the “Lady with the Lamp”, the nickname earned during her night-time rounds tending to wounded soldiers. There’s another at St Thomas’ Hospital - fittingly close to where generations of nurses have trained in her shadow. Mary Seacole – A Long Overdue Tribute Installed in 2016 in the grounds of St Thomas’ Hospital, the statue of Mary Seacole honours the Scottish-Jamaican nurse who set up the “British Hotel” during the Crimean War - part convalescent home, part morale-boosting haven. Posthumously voted first in a poll of “100 Great Black Britons”, Seacole’s recognition was long overdue. Noor Inayat Khan – Spy, Hero, Storyteller In Gordon Square Gardens stands a bust of Noor Inayat Khan, the British-Indian Special Operations Executive agent who worked undercover in occupied France during WWII. Captured, tortured, and executed at Dachau in 1944, she was posthumously awarded the George Cross. Her memorial stands close to the Bloomsbury home where she once lived - a quiet square honouring extraordinary courage. Virginia Woolf – Bloomsbury’s Literary Rebel In Tavistock Square you’ll find a bronze bust of Virginia Woolf. Modernist. Feminist. Literary rule-breaker. A born and bred Londoner and a central figure in the Bloomsbury Group, Woolf lived in the area for over three decades. The bust, unveiled in 2004, quietly marks her long connection with Bloomsbury - a neighbourhood that helped reshape 20th-century culture. Boudicca – Destroyer of Roman London At the north entrance to Westminster Bridge stands one of London’s most dramatic sculptures: a larger than life-size bronze statue of Boudicca and her daughters in a rearing chariot. Positioned opposite Parliament and close to the Palace of Westminster, there’s a neat irony here: she once led the rebellion that burned Roman London to the ground. Ada Lovelace – Look Up! Always look up in London. On Horseferry Road, high on a modern apartment building, stands Ada Lovelace. Lovelace is celebrated mathematician and technology pioneer, at a time when few women entered those fields. Often described as the world’s first computer programmer for her work with Charles Babbage’s Analytical Engine. Today she’s become a symbol for women in science, technology, engineering and maths (STEM). Amy Winehouse – Camden’s Daughter In Camden Market stands a bronze of British singer and songwriter, Amy Winehouse, forever mid-stride, hair piled high. Music fans and tourists pose with, and celebrate, the beloved late singer in her former stomping ground of Camden - the part of town where Winehouse also tragically died in 2011, aged 27. The statue was unveiled three years after her death. Mary Wollstonecraft – A Controversial Tribute When a memorial to Mary Wollstonecraft was unveiled on Newington Green in 2020, it caused debate. Rather than a conventional likeness, the sculpture, by Maggi Hambling, shows a silver female figure emerging from a swirl of forms. Its unveiling provoked a backlash from some who have queried the inclusion of a naked female figure. A radical and writer, Wollstonecraft, best known for ‘A Vindication of the Rights of Woman’ which is seen as one of the earliest feminist works for challenging the contemporary notions that women existed only to please men and championing women’s independence. Edith Cavell – Duty Without Distinction Just off Trafalgar Square, in St Martin’s Place, stands the memorial to Edith Cavell. A British nurse from Norfolk, Cavell worked in German-occupied Belgium during the First World War. She treated wounded soldiers from both sides without distinction, because, to her, care came before politics. She also helped around 200 Allied soldiers escape. For that, she was arrested and executed by German firing squad in 1915. Her memorial bears the simple word: Humanity. Emmeline Pankhurst – Deeds, Not Words Walk into Victoria Tower Gardens from Parliament Square and you’re immediately greeted by an icon: Emmeline Pankhurst. Leader of the Women’s Social and Political Union, Pankhurst took a far more militant approach than Millicent Fawcett. Her rallying cry? “Deeds, not words.” The statue was unveiled in 1930 by Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, just two years after women finally achieved equal voting rights with men. It stands within sight of Parliament. Which, to me, feels exactly right. Still a work in progress. Across the UK, only 2.7% of statues depict real, non-mythical, non-royal women. London is improving, albeit slowly, but it’s still a city of generals, politicians and bewhiskered Victorian gentlemen. So next time you’re out walking, look around, and notice who’s on the plinth - and who isn’t.
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Today is the 5th November, a day in the UK associated with an event that almost happened in 1605 when a group of Catholic conspirators attempted to blow up the Royal Palace of Westminster, better known as the Houses of Parliament. The plan was to kill the Protestant King James I and a large number of other protestant big-wigs who would have been present at the State Opening of Parliament that day. The conspirators wanted to install King James’s catholic daughter Elizabeth on the throne - an audacious plan that they very nearly pulled off. All 13 conspirators hailed from the Midlands (where I’m from) and the North, and although the main instigator was a man called Robert Catesby, the ‘poster boy’ has always been one of the newest recruits to the gang, Guy Fawkes. I want to introduce you to four locations in London that are associated with the Gun Powder Plot, which at the time was known as ‘the Powder Treason’. Westminster In 1605 the Royal Palace of Westminster (the building that houses the UK Parliament) was a sprawling mass of buildings which had grown from an 11th century palace into a small village. A fire in 1834 eradicated most of the buildings that the conspirators would have been familiar with, but a couple of bits remain, most notably the 11th century Great Hall (where our late Queen. Elizabeth II lay in State) and nearby, the 14th century Jewel Tower. Our poster boy, Guy Fawkes, was discovered in a cellar beneath Parliament with 36 barrels of gun powder. Somewhat incriminating. The plot was foiled, and all those involved either killed or rounded up to face trial. Before the State Opening of Parliament each year, the Yeomen of the Guard (AKA Beefeaters) ceremonially search the Palace of Westminster for explosives - by lamplight (a fun fact which I included in my recent fun fact trivia book, Why is Downing Street Painted Black? – and 364 other fun London facts. We love a bit of tradition and ceremony in the UK! The Royal Palace of Westminster played a further part in events relating to the ‘Powder Treason’. The eight remaining conspirators who weren’t immediately killed when caught, were tried in the Palaces’ Great Hall and four of them Guy Fawkes, Thomas Winter, Ambrose Rookwood and Robert Keyes, were executed in 1606 in Old Palace Yard. Hoxton Street These days Hoxton in east London feels a world away from Westminster, and back in 1605 it was …two worlds away. It was a quiet country idyll. In October 1605, a catholic called William Parker, known in certain circles as 4th Baron Monteagle or Lord Monteagle was staying in a house on Hoxton Street when he received an anonymous letter. The letter basically warned him not to attend the State opening of Parliament because it was all going to kick off. Part of it reads: “I would aduyse you as you tender your life to devise some excuse to shift youer attendance at this parliament, for God and man hath concurred to punishe the wickedness of this tyme, and thinke not slightly of this advertisement, but retire yourself into your country, where you may expect the event in safety.” Now, the way in which William Parker received the letter; the way in which it was read out to an audience; and the way in which it was handed to King James I’s head of what we would now call ‘the secret service’, Robert Cecil, is all very suspicious and to be debated. But what we can deduce is that William Parker was the brother-in-law of one of the conspirators, Francis Tresham who in turn was related to Robert Catesby (the gang’s ringleader). It is generally believed that it was Tresham who sent the letter to his brother-in-law imploring him to stay away from Westminster on the day it was due to be blown up. Today, a plaque marks the spot on Hoxton Street where what has become known as ‘the Monteagle Letter’ was received. The Tower of London It was at the mighty Tower of London that the eight surviving conspirators were brought, interrogated and tortured. Probably the most famous surviving piece of history from this period is Guy Fawkes' signature, before and after he had his fingers pulled from their sockets. However, if you visit the Tower today, you can still see two signatures of less famous gun powder plotters etched into the very fabric of the building. Whilst waiting to be executed, Ambrose Rookwood carved his name in to the wall of Martin Tower and Sir Everard Digby’s signature can still be seen on a wall in Broad Arrow Tower. St Paul’s churchyard I’ve already mentioned that four conspirators were executed at Westminster, but the men were split up - and it might surprise you to learn that the churchyard at St Paul’s Cathedral was another famous execution site. It was here on the 30th January 1606 that Digby, Robert Winter, John Grant and Thomas Bates met their grisly ends. Today we celebrate the “nearly” events of 1605 with fireworks and burning effigies of Guy Fawkes (and often contemporary politicians) but what are we celebrating? The fact that a plot to kill the King, James I was foiled or that 13 Catholics were executed for something that didn’t happen?
Maybe it doesn’t matter. Either way the Gunpowder Plot remains one of London’s most fascinating stories - and the places where it played out still survive, in one form or another, today. Last week, I returned from seeing family in Germany and as it was a clear, sunny day and I had managed to secure the all important window seat on the plane, took the opportunity of taking a few photos of London as we flew in to Heathrow. We pretty much flew straight over the Shard, which currently boasts the most spectacular views in London, but from my birds eye view, high above London's skyline, I would at that particular moment, beg to differ. Below, you can see the Shard (top left-ish), a tiny pin prick really with the ribbons of railway lines cutting through south London in to London Bridge station. You can also see London Bridge next to it, and to the east, Tower Bridge spanning the Thames, with the HMS Belfast, moored, as it always is between the two. The Tower of London (just north of Tower Bridge) which when it was built in the 11th century was the tallest building in London is perhaps only visible due to the fact that it has open space surrounding it. On the next photo we have now moved down the Thames a bit, and you can see the Houses of Parliament with the iconic Big Ben, Westminster Bridge, the Millennium Wheel and Horse Guards Parade to the top left. Finally, a rare view of Buckingham Palace with its rather large garden. With Green Park and St James's Park on either side, it seems to be nestling in a clearing in the middle of a forest, rather than being stuck in the middle of London.
When I told my father the other day, that I'd been to The Jewel Tower in Westminster, he said "Aaahh ... the place you see on the news next to Parliament", which is quite true. College Green is where news reporters stand to interview MPs and do their straight to camera pieces with the impressive backdrop of Charles Barry's Houses of Parliament behind them. Quite often you can see the Jewel Tower creeping in to shot to the left, but largely spends its time in the shadow of its more famous, but much younger neighbour. Built in 1365 within the private palace of King Edward III, the Jewel Tower began life as a huge safe, a secure repository for the most valuable possessions of the Royal Household. The palace took up the whole area, now occupied by the Houses of Parliament and Parliament Square, with the Jewel Tower, situated in a secluded garden to the west and hemmed in by a moat, encroaching on land owned by Westminster Abbey. You can get a good idea of the layout of the area from the picture below. In the same way that the Queen today travels between her different homes, her predecessors would move between palaces, Royal manors and castles dotted around the country, or indeed visit friends and courtiers in their own houses. Such trips would have involved taking a huge retinue of people, but also items like plates, bowls, cups, goblets, tapestries and other decorative objects and things that might be needed. The job of the 'keeper of the Wardrobe in the Privy Palace of Westminster', sometimes known as 'keeper of jewels and gold and silver vessels' was based at the Jewel Tower and had the responsibility of making an inventory of everything that left, supervise the goods being loaded on to carts and barges and most importantly, to make sure that everything was returned. When Henry VIII became King and the Royal Household moved away from the Palace of Westminster, the Jewel Tower effectively became a big junk store. On his death in 1547, an inventory was taken of 'tholde Juelhous at Westminster' and was found to be full of old clothes, bed-hangings, linen, gaming tables and old children's toys and dolls. In the 17th Century, the robust ragstone building became a store for Parliamentary records and by the early 18th century it was decided in a meeting chaired by Sir Christopher Wren that the Jewel Tower needed some serious repairs, which also included protection from fire. The Jewel Tower managed to survive the fire of 1834 that burned down the Houses of Parliament, causing the loss of pretty much all of the old medieval palace. The new buildings, which you can still see today took about 26 years to complete and as we move in to the Victorian period, the the Jewel Tower gained its third use. A larger building was required for the storage of records, which Charles Barry accommodated in the design of the new Parliament and more specifically, the Victoria Tower, which still stands directly opposite the Jewel Tower today. In 1864 the Standards Department of the Board of Trade, sometimes known as the 'weights and measures' moved in to the Jewel Tower and set about trying to determine the definitive values of units of size, weight and volume. Basically, these are the people who decided exactly how much beer goes in to a pint of beer ... amongst other things. They remained there until 1938, and in fact on the ground floor of the building today they have a display case showing the different measures or 'standards'. The Jewel Tower was badly damaged by incendiary bombs during WWII, and the surrounding area has changed quite radically since then, meaning that the building itself, now an 'English Heritage' site, has been excavated, preserved and opened to the public. If you do visit, each of the three floors give you an insight in to the building's incredible 650 years of history, and next time you're watching the news, keep an eye out for it behind the reporters on Abingdon Street Gardens, otherwise known as College Green.
When visiting London for the first time, it can be a bit tricky knowing what to do, where to go and what to see. However, I imagine that for the vast majority of these people ... if not all, seeing 'Big Ben' is very probably incredibly near to the top of their 'must do' list. It's situated in Westminster and I've discovered recently, that many people (upon seeing Big Ben) are surprised that it's actually attached to another building. The many replica Big Ben's that line the shelves of the mildly rubbish souvenir shops in central London, very much give the false impression that it is a stand alone clock tower. The second surprise that first time visitors get, is to learn that 'Big Ben' is not in fact the name given to either clock, or the tower (it was renamed last year, the Elizabeth Tower) but the massive hour bell inside. As with most things in London its very existence and indeed the nickname which is known throughout the world comes with a story, a bit of controversy and also a sprinkling of uncertainty. To rewind the clock (pun intended) a few years, the medieval Palace of Westminster or the Houses of Parliament as it is known was burned down in 1834 (that's another story). The epic rebuilding was undertaken by a guy called Charles Barry and in 1844, it was decided that it might be nice if a rather grand tower and clock were to be added to one end. To make life even more difficult it was also decided that the first stroke of the hour bell should register the time, correct to within 1 second per day and telegraph its performance twice a day to be recorded at the Greenwich Observatory. For this reason, clock makers were understandably reluctant to get involved and it was 10 years before a certain Edmund Becket Denison finally had his design completed. The bell or bells, were an entirely separate problem and Barry had specified that only a 14 ton hour bell would suffice. No one in Britain had ever cast a bell that large, but Denison (not known for his bell making skills) refused to be outdone and insisted on not only his own design for the great bell, but the recipe for the bell metal. Like the initial contract to design and make the clock, bell founders were not chomping at the bit to bid for the contract. Eventually it was made by John Warner & Sons at Stockton-on-Tees and not only did the bell end up being a whopping 16 tons, but it cracked upon being tested. The task of casting the bell, then fell upon the shoulders of the Whitechapel Bell Foundry and its master bellfounder, George Mears. It took two weeks to break up the old bell, three furnaces to melt it down and once the mould had been filled with molten metal, took twenty days for it to solidify and cool. Transporting the bell (just shy of 14 tons) to Westminster was a major event. Traffic was stopped and sixteen horses dragged it through the streets which had been decorated and were lined with cheering crowds. It rang for the first time on the 31st May 1859 and it is at this point that the name 'Big Ben' first seeped in to public consciousness. It is said that as Parliament were trying to settle on a suitable name for the bell, Benjamin Hall, a large man, who was affectionately known as 'Big Ben' gave a rather long speech on the subject. At the end, someone shouted out "Why not call it Big Ben and have done with it?". It would appear, the name stuck. Two months later 'Big Ben' cracked. The cause, is thought to be because Denison had used a hammer more than twice the weight specified by the more qualified George Mears. The bell was out of service for the next three years, a lighter hammer was fitted and the bell turned to present an undamaged section to the hammer, which still gives it the same (apparently) distinctive sound that we can hear today. Denison refused to accept responsibility for the mistake and blamed Mears. The whole saga ended in court ... twice and Denison lost on both occasions. However, the very famous nickname given to the bell is often disputed. Just the other day, a friend of mine said "So ... Big Ben ... who do you think it's named after?". He believes it was named after the Victorian bare knuckle boxer Ben Caunt, who as a rather large specimen and heavyweight champion, was known as 'Big Ben'.
Don't forget, you can still visit the Whitechapel Bell Foundry, where they offer tours and an insight in to their unique 500 year history. |
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