Tuesday, 18 February 2020

America's First Cremation: Henry Laurens

The first recorded cremation in the United States is said to be that of Henry Laurens of South Carolina. Laurens was a Charleston merchant-planter who made a vast fortune through the slave trade. 

During the American War for Independence, Laurens served as Second President of the Continental Congress (1777-1778). In 1780, on a diplomatic mission to the Netherlands, he was captured by the British at sea and imprisoned in the Tower of London, the only American ever to experience that "honor." (Image: Laurens by John Singleton Copley)



Laurens had a horror of being buried alive, a fear sharpened by the fact it had nearly happened to his infant daughter Martha. During the smallpox epidemic of 1760, she was thought to have died from the disease. Laid out for a swift burial near an open window, she suddenly stirred, perhaps because of the cool air, and was spared the fate Laurens so feared. [Image: Martha Laurens as a small girl, 1767, by John Wollaston] 




Laurens likely also knew of the case of George Woodrop, a young man who was widely rumored to have been buried alive. The story of Woodrop's fate was recorded by Louisa Wells Aikman in her Journal of a Voyage from Charleston, SC, to London (1779). 

In his will Laurens directed that his body be “wrapped in twelve yards of tow cloth and burnt until it be entirely and totally consumed….” After his death at his beloved Mepkin Plantation in December 1792, his instructions were carried out. The plantation slaves built a large funeral pyre. Laurens’ body was placed upon it and set alight. 

Martha, now Mrs. David Ramsay, refused to witness what she called “the awful ceremony.” [457] Henry’s ashes were deposited in a grave next to that of his son John, who had been killed in action in 1782, near the end of the War for American Independence. [458]

Cremation probably appealed to Henry Laurens for another reason: it was a form of bodily disposal accorded to heroes in the classical world. It is notable that he had placed a classical inscription from the Roman poet Horace on John Laurens’ gravestone: Dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori ("It is sweet and honourable, to die for one’s country.") 




Laurens’ cremation may have been the first to be recorded in the United States, but some Native American nations had long employed it. The history of cremation spans many thousands of years, numerous cultures, and every continent. The Romans used cremation extensively, especially as a dignified send off for soldiers. Christians and Jews, however, opposed cremation in favour of burial in tombs.

After Roman Emperor Constantine adopted Christianity in the early 4th century, the Church condemned cremation as a pagan practice, and it was gradually abandoned where Christianity prevailed. During epidemics and after battles, however, bodies were sometimes burned, mainly for hygienic reasons. The smell of decaying bodies was long believed to be a source of deadly infections.

Henry Laurens’ cremation did not spark a trend. Few people even knew of it at the time. Nevertheless, opposition to the practice slowly declined during the late 19th century. Part of the increased interest in cremation arose from concerns that overcrowded urban churchyards  were a source of diseases like cholera and typhoid. Part may also have arisen from the same fear that drove Laurens to it: fear of premature burial.

Cremation as we know it today dates from the Vienna Exhibition of 1873, when Professor Ludovico Brunetti displayed his new invention: an efficient cremation furnace. News of his invention and improved models spread fast. The first cremation chamber in the United States opened in Washington, Pennsylvania in 1876. Since then, cremation has gradually become common in many countries.

Quotations and details of Henry Laurens' cremation are from David Duncan Wallace, The Life of Henry Laurens (G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York, 1915, pp. 457-458)



Thursday, 6 February 2020

William Blake: Naked Spirituality

In his seminal biography of William Blake, published in 1863, Alexander Gilchrist relates that one day a visitor to Blake's house arrived to find William and his wife Catherine sitting in their garden summer house, stark naked. "Come on in," Blake famously called out to his friend, the aptly named Mr. Butts. "Its only Adam and Eve, you know!"




The artist and poet William Blake (1757-1827) was both brilliant and eccentric. Some of his contemporaries considered him mad, but that seems a step too far. Blake's artistic brilliance has recently been on display in a magnificent, comprehensive exhibition at the Tate Britain (ended Feb. 2, 2020). His eccentricity appears as well, in his style, subject matter, and comments by contemporaries. Gilchrist, who rescued Blake from obscurity, called him "a new kind of man, wholly original." It's hard to disagree with that.

Blake was unconventional in his life as in his work. His work, including paintings, engravings, etchings, and drawings, is chock full of spirits, angels, demons, humans experiencing pleasure and pain. Some of Blake's images were inspired by his reading and cultural milieu. Others sprang from his fertile imagination. Blake claimed to have seen supernatural beings, even conversed with angels in a tree. (Below: "The Good and Evil Angels")



Many of Blake's characters have one thing in common: a lack of clothing. Blake obviously delighted in the human form, whether in physical or spiritual versions. In Blake's vision, mystical religion cavorts with eroticism. He portrays Adam and Eve in the buff, of course, but in a wholly sensual pose. Satan, angels, and God keep an eye on them. Only God is decently attired. 







Lots of other nudes, some in erotic positions, are juxtaposed with religious imagery and symbolism. (Below: "Satan before the Throne of God")



"Lot and His Daughters" shows the scantily clad daughters checking out their drunken Dad's equipment before, well, you know.




What we can see today was probably the tip of the iceberg. His executor, appointed by Catherine Blake, burned many volumes of  her husband's drawings and manuscripts. 


William Blake certainly had highly unusual ideas for his time regarding sex, ideas influenced by religious mystics such as the Moravians, and the radical feminist Mary Wollstonecraft. At times, he endorsed a version of free love and condemned marriage as a legal prison. But his ideas were complex and changed over time, becoming more conservative as he grew older.

He once told a barrister friend that it was part of God's plan that he should have access to a "community of women." He cited the Bible: Did not God's Chosen, the Patriarch Abraham, have concubines? Blake's friend was taken aback: "Shall I call him Artist or Genius--or Mystic--or Madman? Probably all." 

When Blake told his wife Catherine of his Abrahamic vision, she cried, and he abandoned his quest for concubines. It seems he was motivated towards the Abrahamic idea in part by Catherine's apparent inability to bear children.  

William and Catherine Blake are buried in Bunhill Fields Cemetery, Finsbury, London.







Monday, 27 January 2020

Beer, Britain, and the First World War



The current economic crisis in the UK is bad. It's not easy being a pound (£) right now, faced with becoming weaker every day. But let's take a moment to think about the equally dire fate of the humble beer in an even worse time: that of World War. 

The First World War proved difficult for beer in the United Kingdom. Ales, porters, and stout all had to make adjustments in pursuit of victory. They had to reduce their alcohol content, their hours of sale, accept much higher taxes, and suffer other indignities. 

War leaders wanted to keep British soldiers and sailors relatively sober. In 1915 David Lloyd George became Minister of Munitions. He immediately declared that drink, not the Central Powers, was Britain's greatest enemy. "We are fighting Germans, Austrians, and drink, and as far as I can see the greatest of these deadly foes is drink." 





The men at the front may have disagreed about that, but their views like their lives, counted for very little. They could get weak French lagers on leave and a rum ration on duty. After the war, the medical officer of Scotland's 4th Black Watch Regiment told a hearing on shell shock, "Had it not been for the rum ration, I do not think we should have won the war."




Brewers were also not too happy about the restrictions placed on their product. Guinness managed to promote its beer and appear patriotic at the same time:


 

For Lloyd George, drink was if anything a greater foe at home than at the front. He and others in authority feared that drunkenness would reduce workers' productivity, depriving the military of needed war materials and supplies. 

The authorities were especially concerned about alcohol consumption among munitions workers, and for good reason. Mistakes and misbehavior in munitions plants could lead to deadly explosions and delays in production. Hundreds of munitions workers died in explosions, most of them sober women. (Image: Charles Ginner, "The Filling Factory," 1918)




Starting in 1914, various Defence of the Realm Acts (DORA) gave the government sweeping powers to control many aspects of British life, including the production, sale, and consumption of alcoholic drinks. One government order prohibited "treating" or buying a round for other patrons. All drinks had to be paid for by the person consuming them. 

Some changes had long lasting effects. One order severely restricted the hours when pubs could legally serve alcohol. Opening hours were limited to the early afternoon and early evening, from 12:00 to 2:30 and 6:30 to 9:30. Violation could lead to loss of the pub's license. These restrictions remained in effect until 1988. 

Government propaganda also encouraged individuals to restrict their own drinking times, as in the poster below: 



Other orders mandated that the percentage of alcohol in beer be lowered to reduce drunkenness. The average Original Gravity (OG) of beer in England and Wales dropped significantly, from 1059 to 1029, between 1914 and 1919.

The wartime government also significantly increased the taxes on alcohol. The price of a pint roughly doubled even as its strength fell. In 1918, a bottle of whisky cost five times its price in 1914. 

The consumption of alcohol fell by about half during these years. Arrests for public drunkenness fell even more drastically. How much all these changes affected the war's outcome may be debatable, but they certainly saved some lives, and changed British social life in long-lasting ways. 





Monday, 13 January 2020

Punch Goes to War: The End of Appeasement

As fears of another World War approached in the late 1930s, the British satirical magazine Punch published cartoons that depict the shift in Britain against the policy of appeasement of the fascist dictators, particularly of Hitler. A few of the cartoons are included here.

In "Still Hope" below, the artist depicts British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain as an angel of peace flying to Germany at the time of the Munich Crisis in September 1938. Hitler was demanding that Czechoslovakia cede the Sudetenland, an area bordering Germany inhabited by a largely German population. 




The demand followed hard on the heels of the German occupation of Austria in May 1938. Hitler had justified that annexation on the grounds that the Austrians were Germans. Hitler himself had been born in Austria. The Western Allies, France and Britain, did nothing, as they had done nothing when Hitler broke several sections of the Versailles Treaty that had ended World War I.

"Still Hope" reflects the view that appeasement of Hitler might yet work. Appeasement flowed from the belief that Germany had legitimate grievances stemming from the peace settlement after the Great War of 1914-18. A few concessions to Hitler, appeasers argued, could satisfy him and preserve European peace. 

British public opinion generally favored appeasement at this point. Few people wanted another Great War, and many believed Germany had been treated too harshly after the First World War. At Munich, Chamberlain and the French Premier Edouard Daladier agreed to Hitler's demands. Chamberlain returned to Britain claiming he had secured "peace for our time."

That time proved short. Within a few months, Germany occupied the rest of Czechoslovakia and began making territorial demands on Poland. The British and French governments finally stiffened, announcing they would defend Poland against German attack. 

The shift is reflected in "An Old Story Retold" from the Spring of 1939. Hitler assures his skeptical ally Mussolini that the British, represented by the dog guarding the gate, are all bark and no bite. The artist is Bernard Partridge, who had done many cartoons for Punch during World War I.


In "-- -- and the Seven Dwarves" the same artist, Bernard Partridge, presents Hitler in the guise of Snow White, the title character of Disney's popular animated film of 1938. "Adolf White" already has "Czechy" in hand and is beckoning to the other six dwarves to follow him. Each of the dwarves represents one of the states of Eastern Europe.


The next cartoon, "Popular Misconceptions (in Germany) -- the English," is also from April 1939. The artist is reacting to German accusations that the English are trigger happy warmongers. 






Another cartoon from early 1939 "Germany Shall Never Be Encircled" portrays Hitler as a megalomaniac intent on world conquest. Hitler was ready for war over Poland but his generals insisted he avoid the First World War scenario: a two-front war with France and Britain in the west and Russia (now the Soviet Union) in the east. 




Hitler often ignored his generals' advice but in this case, he sent a delegation to Moscow, headed by Foreign Minister von Ribbentrop. The British and French were already wooing Stalin to help defend Poland. "The Calculating Bear" (Russia) is considering the offers made by both sides.


In the end, Stalin accepted Hitler's offer: stay out of the war and help yourself to eastern Poland. The Nazi-Soviet Pact of August 1939 was quickly followed by the German invasion of Poland on September 1. Britain and France declared war on Germany two days later. It did nothing to help the Poles, whose armies were overwhelmed swiftly by the German Blitzkrieg, then by Soviet invasion from the east

In the Spring of 1940, German armies overran much of Western Europe, including France. Britain now faced Germany alone, as well as its ally Italy, which entered the war once France's defeat was certain. 

During the battle for France, Winston Churchill, who had long opposed appeasement, had replaced Chamberlain as Prime Minister. In the summer and autumn of 1940, Britain narrowly survived the air war known as the Battle of Britain and avoided invasion. 

As the new year 1941 dawned, Punch published the rather optimistic cartoon, "The Dragon-Slayer," with Churchill as the title character. One would almost think the war was near its finish, but it had more than four horrific years to run. Churchill himself said of the British victory in the Battle of Britain, that it was "not the beginning of the end, but the end of the beginning." So it proved.





As it happened, 1941 was to prove a turning point for Britain, as it acquired powerful allies. In June Hitler broke his pact with Stalin and invaded Russia. In December German's ally Japan attacked the United States base at Pearl Harbor. Hitler declared war on the USA.

For an interesting, blackly comic take on the events leading to World War II, I recommend: Eric Vuillard, The Order of the Day (2017). 

Friday, 3 January 2020

The Previous Lives of Pubs: The Knights Templar, Chancery Lane

Fancy a pint down at your local bank? These days you might be able to satisfy that fancy. Quite a few bank branches, closed due to the upsurge in online banking or other reasons, have found a new life as pubs.


A prime example is the Knights Templar. Located just off Fleet Street on Chancery Lane, London, it occupies a former branch of the Union Bank (now NatWest). Its original function is emblazoned on a relief above the entrance at the corner of Chancery Lane and Carey Street.   





The pub derives its name from a crusading order of warrior knights with a local connection. The Templars established their English headquarters in the nearby Temple precincts during the 12th century. Fans of the Da Vinci Code may recall that a scene in the novel and film takes place in the Temple Church. The images of the Temple Church below date from c. 1862 and c. 1810.




The Temple area later became the location of two of the Inns of Court, the Inner and Middle Temples. The other two, Lincoln's Inn and Gray's Inn, are also nearby. In order to become a barrister in England, one must be a member of one of the Inns. 


The décor reflects the name and locale, with paintings, pictures, and engravings of Templars in and out of battle. Other pictures connect the pub to its proximity to the law courts and Inns of Court, including a large painting of Sir Edward Coke (1552-1634), considered to be the most influential jurist of the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras. 









The bar and seating area.



Be forewarned: The Knights Templar is closed on Sundays. Surely not because of rigid sabbatarian views, but because traffic is light in this part of London on Sunday. 

Tuesday, 17 December 2019

A Victorian Cartoonist's Christmas

Victorian Christmas cartoons tended to lack the rough, sometimes raunchy humor and social satire of their Georgian predecessors. Victorian images of Christmas were more often sentimental, nostalgic, pious, and domestic. They focused primarily on the comfortably well off, and the holiday as a time of merry family celebration. Well behaved children were an important part of the scene. There were exceptions, as we shall see.

An example of the sentimental family scene is this Punch cartoon by John Leech (1817-1864), "A Family Group, Baby Stirring the Pudding." The large-headed Mr. Punch is at the center, helping "Baby," surrounded by admiring adults and children.


The 1840s saw several important developments in the creation of today's Christmas traditions. That decade saw the introduction of the first Christmas cards, by Henry Cole, a British civil servant. This one below, said to be the very first, shows a prosperous and respectable family enjoying a holiday meal. 



The publication of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens in 1843 helped reinforce the sentimental trend. John Leech's illustration of Mr. Fezziwig's Christmas party conveys a nostalgic view of the time when Ebenezer Scrooge was his young employee. The jolly, humane Fezziwig dances under the mistletoe in a room full of happy revelers. Dickens implies that this is how Christmas could be, or rather, should be. 




Fezziwig's party stands in sharp contrast to the Christmas day meal of the Cratchit family. The occasion is pious, sentimental, loving, but meager -- meager at least until the reformed Scrooge shows up with presents, a big turkey, trimmings, and a raise for Bob Cratchit. Now enlightened, Scrooge makes Christmas what it should be.



The decorated Christmas tree began to take front and center in portrayals of the holiday during the Victorian Age. The Hanoverian monarchs had introduced the Christmas tree from Germany in the 18th century

But few of the British adopted the custom begore the reign of Queen Victoria. Beginning in the 1840s, her German husband Prince Albert helped to popularize the Christmas Tree. The image below shows the royal family admiring Das Tannenbaum.




The Royals' Christmas dos did not always receive such positive portrayals. The 1840s was not only a time of the emergence of some modern Christmas traditions, but also of the Hungry Forties, great political and social unrest, the democratic movement known as Chartism, and the Irish Famine. 

The cartoon below, from a radical newspaper, pictures the royals and company gorging themselves on a giant Christmas pudding, or "Blom Buddin" as Prince Albert calls it. Albert is presented as a freeloader helping himself the "good tings of Angland." 

Victoria hands a plate of plum stones to John Bull, the "cook" of the pudding, and says he can lick the dish and suck the stones when the family have finished. Bull represents the people who have created the country's wealth but live on crumbs.



Victorian Christmas images, such as the one below by John Tenniel from Punch in 1883, occasionally focused on those for whom the holiday was just another day of deprivation and poverty. Here, Father Christmas confronts a poorly dressed child who lives in a cellar and knows nothing about him. "This must be altered," he says, presumably meaning such dire poverty as well as ignorance of the Great Present Giver.



Some Christmas Cartoons could be positively frightening, in a humorous way, at least. An example is George Du Maurier's Christmas cartoon in Punch, 1865. The caption refers to a naturalist who says that children should not read fables and fairy tales but read natural history instead. "Here is the result [of reading natural history] on the youthful mind" Du Maurier comments tongue-in-cheek. 




Thursday, 12 December 2019

The Previous Lives of Pubs: A church that became a pub, for a time

NB: The church in this article did have a life as a pub, but is now a Miller and Carter Steakhouse.

Churches seem to be prime candidates for conversion (no pun intended) into other purposes. Just as numerous bank branches have closed down in recent years due to the growth of online banking, a decline in attendance has forced a lot of churches to shut their doors to worshippers. 

As congregations have shrunk, so have church budgets. Churches are expensive to maintain, heat, and light, and some have been unable to carry on in their original function. 

Hundreds of former churches have been demolished or converted into homes and businesses of all sorts, including restaurants, galleries, a climbing center in Manchester, and a circus school in Bristol. Others have become pubs. 

One of them once occupied the Muswell Hill Presbyterian Church (later United Reformed Church). Opened in 1903, it served its original function until the 1970s. The Neo-Gothic structure was "saved" from demolition or worse when the O'Neill's chain converted it into one of their Irish pubs. 

From outside it looked like the church it once was, except for the O'Neill signs and logos. The handsome terracotta and flint façade was left virtually untouched. 






Inside, the basic structure also largely remained, but the altar was replaced by a large bar, the pews by chairs, tables, and slot machines. Hymns gave way to pop music. Worship of beer took the place of worship of the Deity.






One can only imagine what the church's founders would have thought of the transition. But perhaps after a pint and some reflection, they would see it as preferable to destruction. 

Other pubs that had previous lives as churches, include the Oran Mor in Glasgow, and the Church Café and Bar, formerly St. Mary's Church of Ireland, in Dublin.