"...Sang with Striking Effect the National Anthem, Which was Succeeded by Lusty Cheers for her Majesty..." Or: Some Diamond Jubilee Details:

This isn't a real blog post as such, but I have some information that some may find interesting sitting in a folder on my computer, and I thought I may as well share it, since it's no good hidden away, and hopefully people may enjoy reading it or even get some use out of it;

Advertising using the Queen

Recently I was asked to provide someone with a little information about the celebrations that occurred in London for Queen Victoria's diamond jubilee in 1897. My instructions were to find out what food people were eating, what music they were listening to, special events they may have attended and such like, and I was only too happy to help. (I was writing my advertising post at the time - which you can find directly beneath this one - and had been looking at plenty of instances of 'jubilee mania' which resulted in advertisers using the image of the Queen to push their products)

Much like Victoria ’s golden jubilee in 1887, the country went through a period of ‘jubilee mania’ in 1897 for her diamond jubilee. I discovered plenty of articles letters describing the flooding of the market with what, by the sound of it, can only be described as ‘tat’. Jubilee toothpicks, combs, handkerchief’s, ash trays and the like swarmed the cities, which seemed to annoy a lot of people, but, on the whole, the country (from what I found, anyway) appears to have been in celebratory mood for the jubilee.

It does seem that Britons were far more patriotic then than they are today, (possibly because they had an Empire to cheer about) but along with the usual stories of flags, Chinese lanterns, bonfires and fireworks that were put up, and watched in most cities and towns, I managed to find some useful snippets in what I think are probably the best barometers for the public opinion, and the best source of detail for events such as these – old newspapers.

 

So, here are some little details I managed to sniff out from old newspapers with regards to Queen Victoria's Diamond jubilee. I have separated them into sections for slightly easier reading;

General Celebration:

At the instance of Mr. Wootton Isaacson, M.P., the Secretary of State for War has promised that the Indian and Colonial contingents, together with the Guards and bands, will parade through 16 miles of the East End of London some convenient day after the Jubilee Celebration. Information has already been received of arrangements to light no fewer than 720 large bonfires from elevated points throughout the United Kingdom on Jubilee night. Yorkshire alone is providing more than 100 bonfires. Sussex and Somerset have each planned 60 to correspond with the number of years of the Queen's Reign. In another case a similar idea is to be carried out by erecting a bonfire 60ft. in height. Even the small county of Radnor has arranged for 40 bonfires.

 

Good Deeds, Food & the Celebrations for the Less Fortunate:

In connection with the Princess of Wales's Fund for the poor, the Bethnal Green Committee have arranged that lodgers in lodging-houses and the outcast poor of their parish shall be all entertained in one building, and that the dinner shall consist of roast beef, two vegetables, plum pudding, bread, lemonade, and oranges. One half ounce of tobacco and a clay pipe will be given to each man. An orchestral band will play during dinner, and the room will be decorated. There will be other dinners at various places for persons not in that category.

 

Provision will also be made for dinners, to families in their own homes. Local tradesmen will be employed, but samples of all food to be given will be inspected beforehand. The dinners will be distributed by voluntary helpers to the people in their homes, with coals, &c., to cook with, and will consist of meat, potatoes, puddings, bread, butter, and tea.

By desire of the Lady Mayoress, the Ragged School Union will feed the crippled children, and the names of applicants may be sent to 37, Norfolk Street , Strand . There will be one large dinner for crippled children at the People's Palace, the rest being provided for at their own homes. Mr. Wheatley, of the St. Giles's Christian Mission, has been asked to deal with cases of the wives and families of persons in prison. Blind people will be provided for through the Indigent Blind Society, of 27, Red Lion Square , or the National Blind Relief Society in Chelsea . A preliminary meeting of music-hall managers, artists, and others was held at the Tivoli yesterday, Mr. Vernon Dowsett presiding, for the purpose of taking steps to celebrate the Long Reign. It was agreed that the celebration take the form of a benefit performance, the charity to be aided being the Queen's Jubilee Institute for Nurses. This idea was taken up with enthusiasm by the large and representative gathering. It was decided to hold a matinee performance at the Tivoli on the 28th inst., the use of the theatre being freely granted for the occasion.

 

CHILDREN'S ENTERTAINMENT AT GRAYS-INN.

By the kindness of the Treasurer and Masters of the Bench of Grays Inn a Jubilee entertainment was given to nearly two thousand children on Saturday afternoon and evening, in the gardens of their Inn. That the fete was of an unconventional character may be inferred from the fact that the cards of invitation were allotted to eight of the poorest schools in the neighbourhood of the Inn , between three hundred and four hundred working women being also included.In the organisation and superintendence of the proceedings a prominent part was taken by Mr. M. W. Mattinson, Q.C, the Treasurer, Mr. Hugh Shield, Q.C, Mr. John Rose (Police-court Magistrate), Mr. S. Macaskie, Mr. F. W. Musgrave, the Steward, and Mr. Dornthwaite, Chief Clerk. At the beginning a Jubilee mug was given to each child, and it was well that it was of unbreakable material, otherwise the exuberance of the children when they found themselves within the grounds, so different from their ordinary surroundings, might have produced a good deal of inconvenience.An hour or so was spent in amusement before tea. to which the children, grouped according to their schools, sat down upon the grass, an ample supply of bread and butter and cake being provided; while elder visitors (not a few of whom brought babies) were accommodated in a marquee. The entertainments included a couple of Punch and Judy shows, conjuring, the eccentricities of a "Nigger" troupe, swings, and see-saws, not one of which was for a moment unattended, and music by a good band in uniform. Music, of course, suggested dancing, and the "steps" which almost invariably accompany the playing of a barrel organ in the streets of the poorer quarters of London were reproduced by many of the children, especially the girls, in a remarkable manner. The weather was delightfully fine, the bright sunshine being tempered by a pleasant breeze; numbers of the youngsters in consequence found their chief diversion in gambolling on the grass or rolling down the slopes by which two sides of the gardens — or "walks'' as they were termed in days gone by — are enclosed, which they did with all the abandon of which children released for a time from brick-and-mortar environments are capable.On a grassy terrace a series of sports were indulged in, consisting of races for boys and girls, separately and "mixed," potato picking, egg and spoon contests, &c. The difficulty was, however, to keep a clear course, as no area was enclosed at all, and the ladies and gentlemen who undertook this duty had their hands more than full in checking the encroachment of the non-contestants— encroachment pardonable enough when it was considered that the intruders ranged in age from four years up to about three times that figure.On leaving, each boy and girl, who had previously received a large mince pie, was presented with a bag of sweets. The gardens — containing many very fine trees— were decorated with flags and Chinese lanterns, remnants of the more ambitious entertainment which the Benchers gave on the previous evening.
  - London Standard - Monday 28 June 1897

A GIGANTIC TEA PARTY.

Of the many free meals with which the school children and the poor of the Metropolis have been regaled in commemoration of the Queen's long reign, none, perhaps, was more numerously attended than that given yesterday afternoon at Olympia to the school children in the parish of Hammersmith. Four o'clock was the time fixed for the tea to commence, but fully an hour before that time several thousand children, presenting a clean and smart appearance, gathered in Blythe Road , completely blocking the thorough- fare leading to the Olympia Annexe. The meal, which consisted of a plentiful supply of tea and milk, bread and butter, and plum and currant cake, was served in the spacious building which was lately utilised for roller skating. Tables, heavily laden with huge piles of bread and butter and cake, were stretched a few feet apart in line from one end of the building to the other. The building was stocked with 5000lb. of bread, 500lb. of butter. 1200lb. of sugar, 5000lb. of cake, 150lb. of tea, and 1500 gallons of milk. The children — boys and girls together — who numbered upwards of 12,000, and all of whom live within easy distance, marched in procession to the building. They were regaled in batches varying in number from 3000, to 3700. The hands of the clock had turned six before the last batch, which numbered nearer 4000 than 5000 children had been feasted. There being still a quantity of food left, the Committee decided to admit several hundred poorly clad children, who had neither been invited nor attended the schools, but who had gathered outside the gates, an invitation which was promptly accepted. For the amusement of the school children a variety entertainment was provided in the grounds, which was followed by a cycle carnival organised by some of the residents in the district. Later in the day the groups were visited by the Lady Mayoress, who, accompanied by her two daughters — evinced much interest in the games indulged in. Prior to her departure the children were massed round the band-stand in the grounds, and on the signal being given, sang with striking effect and great heartiness three verses of the National Anthem, which was succeeded by lusty cheers for her Majesty, with which the proceedings were brought to a close. The arrangements were admirably carried out under the supervision of Mr. John C. Piatt, who was assisted by the local clergy and several of the leading inhabitants.
  - London Standard - Friday 02 July 1897

Public Opinion:

AN OLD SOLDIER TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST.

SIR, — The Jubilee has been the means of flooding the shop windows with wares of every sort and kind bearing the National emblems: Jubilee mugs, walking-sticks, charms, photograph frames, links, watches, pins, clocks — nothing is lacking; but it is too lamentable to see the terrible errors which have been made in carrying out the heraldic part of the designs. It has, alas! too long been evident that heraldry is almost forgotten by this generation, for it almost seems that the chief necessity in colouring the national emblems is to do that which is the reverse of right. To represent the historic Union Rose of York and Lancaster, so long the badge of England (and now taking its part in the Union badge), as a garden variety of red or white, or to omit the double treasure within which the Scotch lion should perform his gymnastic feats, are merely minor errors. Again, we frequently see the Irish harp on a green ground instead of the Royal blue; also the colours of the lions and of the ground on which they disport themselves reversed. I noticed at a certain store in the vicinity of Albert-gate the red St. George's Cross in the Union flag shown blue, St. Patrick white on red, and St. Andrew blue on white. Surely, when one sees these flagrant mistakes, it is time that some steps should be taken to prevent unscrupulous tradesmen from foisting on a credulous public these despicable parodies of the National insignia. Has not the Earl Marshal of England the power to forbid or punish such desecration? or, if not, cannot Parliament confer such power on him ? Now that her Majesty's uniforms have ceased to clothe the sandwichmen, could not some little attention be paid to this misuse of the Royal Arms and badges? Truly there are a few bright exceptions, amongst them a well known Bond Street firm, who are making the most laudable efforts to ensure the strictest accuracy in design, and their Jubilee souvenirs are most instructive, being quite an education to those not well versed in the intricacies of heraldry.

 — Yours, &c,

  -  Morning Post, 4^th June, 1897

 

 

HERALDRY. TO THE EDITOR OE THE MORNING POST.

SlR,—

Some special form of decoration should be given, with her Majesty's permission, to the window in which her Majesty stood when she was proclaimed our Queen. The window is one of many on the east side of St. James's Palace, and remains exactly as it was 60 years ago. It is the most interesting spot in London , and is really unknown to the present generation. Being historical, it deserves to be marked by some token on Jubilee Day worthy of its associations, while there is evidence in existence which should satisfy even Lord Rosebery and Sir John Lubbock that the window in question is known by —

Yours, &c,

 

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST.

SIR,— I am surprised that the kindly and beautiful thought of the Princess of Wales to have us hungry persons in London for one day has not been caught up enthusiastically all over the Kingdom. Surely if this can be undertaken for so vast a number as the poor of London it could with much less trouble and expense be arranged for every town and village in England at any rate, if not in Scotland and Ireland also. It would be something for all to remember, and would surely give pleasure even to the Queen herself to feel that there was one day in her Reign when there was not a hungry person in the United Kingdom. Is it not worth an effort?

   - Morning Post - Thursday 03 June 1897


JUBILEE WASTE.

TO THES EDITOR OF REYNOLD’S NEWSPAPER

Sir,-A well-known mustard maker who had piled up quite a heavy fortune by inflaming the membrane of millions of stomachs, and by extracting cold on the chest with counter irritation, was once asked how it was that he had made so much wealth out of an article of which people ate so little in comparison to their food. He answered, “I have lived and made money by what people waste, not by what they eat." Anyone who has studied the use and abuse of the mustard-pot will feel the force of this remark. Now, sir, it seems to me that this applies not only to condiments but to the more solid necessaries of life. The forthcoming Jubilee throws the matter into a very lurid blaze of light. Everybody seems to have over estimated the attractive power of the great jubilee extravaganza. The men who rushed to secure sites for seats, so as to make a corner in them, and so reap unearned wealth, also cried out that London would be virtually in it state of famine for two or three days, as it would be impossible to secure any provisions except at famine prices. As a consequence there is already a tendency to "barden" the prices of poultry and fish. It does not mean that the farmers who grow the poultry or the fishermen who catch the fish will reap any particular benefit. It simply means that the men who deal in the market will buy at the ordinary prices and deal "at Jubilee prices." The provisioning of London is a simple matter at ordinary times, and, if we allow for an influx of a million people, that would only (under ordinary circumstances) mean a fifth of the second day's supply. But it has to be borne in mind that there will be a large outflow from London . The City man and the well-to-do – especially those who have let their windows well – will get away from the crowd and go away to the seaside or seine other place. Thus I argued with a well-known caterer. He simply laughed at me. He said, "I should have thought that a man of the world like you would have known by this time that we do not cater for appetite. We cater for waste." Upon listening to his arguments I could feel the force of them. They were to this effect. If you keep an hotel, and have a big crowd, you cook according to an average. What is left goes into the cold stock or the stock pot. But on the Jubilee Day you are sending provisions to places where nothing ever fed before save the sparrows or the rats; you are sending it to the churchyards, the vacant places called “no man's land": you are sending it to the dingy recesses of lawyers' offices, tailors' shops, fishmongers' slabs, banking houses, china, merchants, half demolished buildings, railway bridges and arches, wharves and public buildings, and even newspaper offices. What can they do with "the cold" but waste it?

When a man puts a proposition like that to one the answer is not ready on the spur of the moment. My caterer continued. "The contract is sixty or a hundred lunches. My price, bar liquor, is six shillings a head: no poultry or fish. Well they say they will have poultry and fish, and then I say ten shillings a head, or, if it is a swell place, a guinea." "But," I answered, “who can eat a guinea's-worth of lunch?" “My good sir," he replied, “- they do not eat it. But I cannot weigh it out to an ounce. I am obliged to send whole joints, whole fowls, salmon, or whatever it may be. In some cases it may be they won't eat half of it, in some cases not a third; but it is there. I cannot take it back, and they have got to pay for it. Just the same with wine, &c. It is opened and it is left. I cannot take it back. So you must not calculate upon the extra, supply for a million of people, but for the supply for three times the amount really needed."

In this way only can the anticipated food famine prices be accounted for. The sufferers for this gigantic piece of nineteenth-century folly will he the unfortunate frugal house keeper who does not care a jot about the Jubilee. If the wasted pieces could be collected and given to the very poor some good might come out of it. We have the proposition of the Princess of Wales to feed the poor on a certain day. The idea is laudable enough, but at the same time it is ridiculous. In such cases, as a rule, the least deserving generally get the bounty. The duty of selecting the poor is usually left in the hands of the local clergy. In such cases the poor represent the poor of the particular parson's parish The very poor, who are too poor to go to church and too proud to vaunt their poverty in public, get nothing. To give at man who has to starve for the greater part of the year a dinner bigger than he wants on one particular day is a mistake. He gorges more than is good for him and he feels the bitterness of his position more acutely for many days afterwards.

Much better would it be to give him a few loaves at bread or a joint, which would afford him a moderate meal for several days afterwards, A Jubilee banquet, even to the poor, is waste.

           - Reynolds's Newspaper - Sunday 13 June 1897

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST.

Sir, — I hope it is not too late for some consideration to be given, in connection with the Jubilee rejoicings, to the loyalty of the Irish Militia, who during the Crimean War and Indian Mutiny formed so large a portion of our Army. The Irish Militia gave hundreds of its best men to the Regular Service during those times. Their courage and discipline has never been called in question. Would it not, therefore, be a suitable time to recognise their services, and also that of the English, Scots, and Welsh Militia by some distinctive badge? The officers, non-commissioned officers, and men cannot now be very many who were "out" during the Crimean War and Indian Mutiny, and the cost to the country would be very small in comparison with the gratification it would create in the Constitutional Force of the country, and it would also tend to allay any ill-feeling which may have been engendered by the Volunteer medal given to the English, Scots, and Welsh Volunteers.

— Yours, &c

Organization of Events:
THE PRICES OF SEATS. A prolonged investigation conducted yester-day along the whole line of route showed that the prices paid for seats depend simply on what is offered. From Buckingham Palace to Cockspur Street it may be said that seats are priceless, but that is because they are mostly in clubs, whose members have balloted for their places months ago. In Trafalgar-square the stands erected by the Board of Works and the County Council were, to the privileged persons who had a churn on them, cheap indeed. On the County Council stand seats could be obtained by a favoured few as low as 20s: but ordinary members of the Council and various Labour leaders, prominent Municipal enthusiasts, and the like, had to pay 50s. per seat. In the Strand prices have fallen, and are continuing to fall. Every shop window competes with its neighbour: but, unless there is a convenient lunch within reach, the public have fought shy of paying the extravagant prices asked at first. From twenty guineas per seat on the first floor, prices have dropped to two guineas, and there are ample indications that today no reasonable offer will be refused for any seat left unlet. "No reasonable offer," in most cases, seems to mean not less than a guinea. The windy weather yesterday seemed to have a most sobering effect also on those who would have purchased seats in any of the larger open-air stands around the churches in that part of the route between the Strand and St. Paul 's. Restaurants, which had, in addition to convenient seating facilities for luncheon, were the only places where prices were maintained at a high figure. Even in St. Pauls churchyard there were still seats to let, but a determined resistance is there offered to any reduction in price, and five guineas per seat remained the lowest terms on which a place could be had from which to witness the scene of the religious service and the illuminations that are to follow. These low charges only concerned very high-placed seats.

In Cheapside and King William Street the market, in the language of the Stock Exchange, is "firm." and two guineas at least have to be paid for a top floor window. Over London Bridge prices have come down tremendously, and seats may be had for as little as 10s. They are not very good places, but a substantial glimpse of the Procession may be had. The competition of occupants of grand stands and windows on the other side of the river is very keen, and it is easily possible to arrange terms to suit the slenderest purse. This is the condition of affairs all through the southern portion of the Royal route, and there is no doubt that on Tuesday morning it will be feasible to obtain seats in good positions for anything in the way of cash which may be offered. There are great complaints by those who have been at the expense of erecting elaborate structures at the losses they are certain to sustain. In one case no less than 10,000l was expended before a seat was sold, and a loss was expected by Tuesday night of at least 2000l. The particular stand mentioned is in a very prominent position. The consensus of opinion among the agents interviewed yesterday was that the various syndicates who had dealt in these seats had scared the public at first by their high charges, and been themselves guilty of paying too much for the sites they occupied.  - London Standard 19^th June 1897

Queen Victoria passes St Paul's Cathedral on her Jubilee procession

THE JUBILEE. PREPARATIONS FOR SPECTATORS.
Only here and there along the line of the route of the Royal Procession South of the Thames is there any opportunity of putting up stands; but the houses and places of business are numerous, if, in many cases, small, and here, as in many other portions of the route, the supply of seats is more than equal to the demand so far. Indeed, the occupiers who accepted the earlier offers of syndicates and speculators were wise in their generation. They have obtained better prices than are being now given. This is the district in which there has been some controversies about the eviction of poor tenants, and while there undoubtedly have been some cases of hardship, yet when the little rooms have been emptied, made clean and more inviting in appearance, and the small windows filled with stands, they will be let, if at all, at a figure which will leave very little profit for the owner. Except at the northern end of the Borough High Street the thoroughfares which will be traversed by her Majesty are all wide, with broad pavements, so that hundreds of thousands of the inhabitants of South London will be able to view the Procession. Fortunately, in this district a considerable number of religious and benevolent institutions will reap pecuniary benefit from the Commemoration. When the seat rents go to a charity or for religious purposes there are always enthusiastic friends to find a market for the tickets and thoughtful purchasers to give a preference to these places when making their arrangements. To start with, St. George the Martyr, in the Borough High Street, will garner about £2,000, a stand to accommodate some 1,200 people having been built outside the church, which juts out into the street and will afford a fine view. The prices range from 3gs. to l0gs., and the money will go towards the erection of new schools and the restoration of the church. In the Borough Road the Polytechnic has made the most of its good site. Not only are the windows being let, but a stand in the front will seat about 2,000, and the profits will go to building a gymnasium and a new workshop. On the other side the London County Council has a stand on a vacant piece of ground belonging to them, and the School Board are making use of the only site they possess on the line of route, and are covering with scaffolding the front of the Borough Road School . The Royal Eye Hospital , St. Georges Circus, the foundation stone of which was laid by the Princess of Wales some years ago, will let its many windows, and among other beneficiaries of the Commemoration will be St. Paul 's Church and St. Thomas 's Church, the Yorkshire Society School and St. Thomas 's Hospital. The Governors and staff of the last-named institution have exerted themselves with success to let seats in a large stand in front of the Hospital. The South Western Railway has repainted the arch across Westminster Bridge Road in green and gold, and seats are rising on each side of the arch, while Harrod's Stores have acquired Messrs. Atkinson's premises for the day, and will have provision for about 2,000 sightseers. On the north side of Westminster Bridge the tower of Big Ben is flanked by two large stands, which are for the use of members of the House of Commons, the officials, and journalists engaged in the Press Gallery and Lobby. These will provide about 1,700 places. Further on in Parliament Square is another great temporary structure building for the Office of Works for Colonial and Indian visitors. The London and North Western Company's Office at the corner of Parliament Street is already nearly hidden with scaffolding, and in Whitehall the Government offices are all erecting seats in front of the ground floor windows; while the roof of Dover House supports several tiers. Opposite the Home Office the Diamond Jubilee Grand Stands Company are building a large pavilion, which, when finished, will resemble a theatre auditorium, with boxes, dress circle, and promenade. In Whitehall , as in the earlier part of the route from Hyde Park Place to Cockspur Street , the demand seems to be brisk and the prices are higher. A private box for ten persons here is charged 250gs., and single seats go from 2gs. to 20gs. Another elaborate stand is at the corner of the Horse Guards Parade, which is built somewhat in the shape of the letter L, the seats at the foot commanding a view of the Procession as it turns into Parliament Street . Here the higher-priced places will be arranged like theatre stalls, and the building is supported, like the other just described, on steel girders. This stand will seat 4,000, and the charges range from 4gs. to 20gs. The Charity Commissioners' Office and the Railway Department of the Board of Trade are both utilising their frontages for the officials, and the last stands on the route are those near the new Admiralty Offices, facing the Horse Guards parade, which are also being built by the Government. Altogether the number of official seats along the line of the Procession exceeds 25,000. The carpet to be used on the Throne Dai's at the forthcoming Jubilee is the outcome of a shilling subscription from the women of England on the suggestion of the Duchess of Teck. It has just been completed. The carpet is a comparatively small one, 18ft. by 16ft., but as every thread has been tied by hand (by girls) it has occupied nearly three months in weaving alone, whilst the design involved considerable labour prior to that. Every detail has been either suggested by or submitted to and approved by his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales and other members of the Royal Family, and the whole is emblematical of the Empire. It is to be exhibited by the manufacturers at Bridgnorth from Saturday to Tuesday next, when it will be forwarded to London .
  - London Standard 19^th June 1897

 

TO THE EDITOR OF THE STANDARD
Sir; — If the Managers of the Underground and other Railways in London would adopt a simple precaution on the Jubilee day, they would remove the dread of thousands of their passengers. It is simply this. To place a man in uniform, or a policeman, at the inlet door of each station; to form the passengers into a queue in the street — say three abreast. This would ensure "First come first served," prevent all pushing and crowding, give complete control of the numbers on the platforms, and make safe and comfortable what, otherwise, will be a risky undertaking.
I am, Sir, your obedient servant,
  -  London Standard 19th June 1897


TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST

Sir, — I beg to call your attention to the danger likely to arise from the over-crowding of the station platforms on the Underground Railway on Jubilee Day. The Bank Holiday catastrophe at Hampstead-heath has shown how simply such an accident may occur. Surely some means of limiting the number of passengers allowed on the platforms of such a busy station as Baker Street , for instance, might easily be arranged.

—     Yours, &c,

- Morning Post - Thursday 03 June 1897

Music:

JUBILEE MUSIC

YESTERDAY afternoon a batch of Jubilee compositions, some new, some nearly new, was given at the Queen's Hall, conducted for the most part by the distinguished composers, themselves. Dr. G. C. Martin, for a beginning, presided over a performance of his "Festival Te Deum," a work of considerable interest and real merit. Without departing from the spirit of the words – on the contrary feeling them for the most part very intimately – he has contrived, nevertheless, very cleverly to combine solemn melody with remarkable freshness and novelty of sentiment. He never for a moment permits his hearers to slacken their attention, although he secures his effects without the slightest vulgarity or cheapness. Then, again, the work impresses one as being an organic whole; part develops naturally from part, and closes again, without violence and without the least sense of scrappiness or irregularity. That, we take it, is the great danger of writing live music to words of this nature which represent so arbitrary and so many various emotions within the limits of a space so small, and we do not hesitate to say that Dr. Martin has produced a fine ecclesiastical work which, in its own appropriate place, must have a finer effect even than it had yesterday afternoon in the concert room. He has paid great attention to the orchestration, which is for the most part extremely well done, though it was possible here and there to detect a little superfluous ornament that occasionally made the music seem more gaudy than rich, a very slight fault which is amply atoned by the genuine insight and appreciation of the right means to an end which the music otherwise proves the composer to have in abundance.

Mr. Eaton Faning's setting of Sir Edwin Arnold's' "Queen Song" was next given, and may be dismissed briefly. We have mentioned this composition before in connection with a concert at the Albert Hall the other day, when it was given for the first time. Our first impressions of the work are not effaced. It "goes" in a certain sense, but it is thoroughly common and uninteresting in conception, without originality or delicacy. The most that can be said in its favour is that it has a good deal of the inspiration of the words in it – words which you instinctively feel should be sung to loud and intelligible rhythms, with an insistent accent and as obvious a melody as may be conceived. Unfortunately Mr. Frederic Cowen's Commemoration Ode, which was also given, follows precisely the same lines, to such an extent, indeed, that its opening phrases seemed, to the casual listener, to be actually only a slight variant of, part of Mr. Faning's music.

Mr. Cowen's music, in truth, is here but of small merit and is only a little less common than Mr. Faning's; moreover, we are not even sure that that is really an improvement, for this other composer does his part with a will and with evident enjoyment, while Mr. Cowen seems to be afraid of handling a matter with which he has clearly little sympathy; and we prefer frank, clean corduroy to a shabby and shiny frock-coat.

Mr. Randegger's version of the 150th Psalm, also sung, was exceedingly amusing. Miss Fanny Moody was engaged for the treble solo, and she was there to sing it; but Mr. Randegger so heaped his orchestra in enormous blasts of elementary musical phrase upon her unfortunate voice that we really cannot Judge the matter, though from her manner and action she seemed to be singing very vigorously, and she certainly sang the first verse of the National Anthem at the opening of the concert very well indeed. Finally, Dr. Bridge presided over a performance of his jubilee Anthem, “Blessed be the Lord," the chief humour of which lay in the introduction of phrases into the music from "God Save the Queen," which had the delightful effect of causing the bulk of a loyal audience to pop to their feet every now and then, and to subside perplexedly when the phrase turned, under a sort of dazed impression that they were listening to occasional performances of the National Anthem. No: most of the musical flowers of this jubilee bouquet were not particularly fragrant or impressively beautiful.

  - Pall Mall Gazette - Monday 21 June 1897
           

To hark back to my previous post, and also relevant to this post, I've been out and about over the last few weeks and have not been surprised to find that the tradition of using national events to sell tat is still going strong - I've seen Queen Elizabeth jubilee tea-towels, canvas bags, oven gloves, cushions etc, etc.

It's nice in a way to know that we still hold on to some Victorian customs...

“The Produce and Refuse of Civilization Announced in Staring Letters, in Daubed Effigies, Base, Paltry, Grotesque…” Or: Victorian Advertising:

Unlike us, the Victorians did not have a TV or radio to bombard them with constant advertising at peak time. They had magazines, but nowhere near as many as assault our senses when we walk into a supermarket or newsagents. But advertising in the latter part nineteenth century was still big, brash and almost everywhere. Victorian companies that wanted to persuade the public to buy their products had, really, only one method of advertising, and that was through printed words and pictures. Adverts in the form of posters, handbills and newspaper advertisements were hugely prevalent from the 1860’s onwards, and the business of advertising grew larger and larger as the century went on. The entrepreneurial businessman Mr. Luckworth Crewe in George Gissing’s 1894 novel of London society ‘In the Year of the Jubilee’ summed up the mood of his fellow businessmen:

"Look here," said I, "my dear sir, you're impeding the progress of civilisation. How could we have become what we are without the modern science and art of advertising? Till advertising sprang up, the world was barbarous. Do you suppose people kept themselves clean before they were reminded at every corner of the benefits of soap? Do you suppose they were healthy before every wall and hoarding told them what medicine to take for their ailments? Not they indeed! Why, a man like you—an enlightened man, I see it in your face (he was as ugly as Ben's bull-dog), ought to be proud of helping on the age."

Later on in the book, the wealth of advertising on show in the 1890’s is described wonderfully by Gissing:

…They descended and stood together upon the platform, among hurrying crowds, in black fumes that poisoned the palate with sulphur. This way and that sped the demon engines, whirling lighted waggons full of people. Shrill whistles, the hiss and roar of steam, the bang, clap, bang of carriage doors, the clatter of feet on wood and stone – all echoed and reverberated from a huge cloudy vault above them. High and low, on every available yard of wall, advertisements clamoured to the eye: theatres, journals, soaps, medicines, concerts, furniture, wines, prayer-meetings – all the produce and refuse of civilization announced in staring letters, in daubed effigies, base, paltry, grotesque. A battle ground of advertisements, fitly chosen amid subterranean din and reek; a symbol to the gaze of that relentless warfare which ceases not, night and day, in the world above...

I’ve found it difficult to pinpoint when advertising really boomed in the nineteenth century, but one of the more handy pointers has been the press of the time, most notably old newspapers. Here, on the left, is the front cover of the Illustrated London News from December 1852. 

As you can see, the front bears nothing but news. Generally, these newspapers would have pages of advertisements inside and on the back cover.

On the right is a picture of the same publication from 1896:

The latter version has dedicated its entire front page to adverts, and even ten years prior to this particular issue, research suggests that newspapers began to dramatically increase the amount of space within their pages dedicated to advertising. In 1886 that cornerstone of news for upper class England, The Times, devoted almost 60% of its space to advertising. The Illustrated London News was well behind with 20%, but seemed to make up for it by placing the adverts in prominent places, such as the covers, as seen above. Everything seems to suggest that the mass shift in advertising was gearing up toward one special event that businesses and entrepreneurs could use to market their goods, and I and have narrowed it down to Queen Victoria’s golden jubilee in 1887.

That year a handbook was published entitled ‘An Advertiser’s guide to publicity’ which encouraged advertisers to focus their efforts upon one main theme that may catch the attention of the public and help sell their products. (We see the self-same tactic these days – how much junk have you seen lately with the Olympics emblazoned across it, and does everyone remember the commemorative tea towels, mugs, coins, plates &c from the Royal Wedding last year?)

In 1887 advertisers clung to the coat-tails of the Queen’s popularity and used her image to sell their wares – anything from perfume to pills, jewelry to drinks. In fact, Gissing’s Luckworth Crewe reproaches himself in the novel for not having jumped on the bandwagon and developed a ‘Jubilee drink…that would have sold itself.’

Luckworth Crewe – or rather, Gissing – recognized that the public will buy anything if it is associated with a popular figure or event, and the public’s celebratory mood in the year of Victoria’s jubilee created a huge demand for commemorative products and items bearing the image of the Queen.

In that same jubilee year a massive fire raged through London department store Whiteleys. Why is this relevant? Well, the fire isn’t, but the building it destroyed is. Whiteleys opened in 1863, but by 1867 it had swallowed up a whole row of shops, and within its walls were various ‘departments’ in which customers could buy a vast range of goods. By 1890, the shop was employing six thousand people. Whiteleys had started a trend for so called ‘department stores’, and by the 1880’s London was full of them. In an age when your social standing was expressed by the clothes you wore and the décor of your home, these stores did a roaring trade, and competed with each other for the public’s attention and cash with ever larger advertisements, and ever more ingenious marketing schemes, such as elaborate window displays. (Another form of advertising that survives to this day, and can be seen on Oxford Street at Christmas)

Adverts had begun to appear everywhere, and after the Queen’s jubilee, showed no signs of going anywhere. As is still the case, something which is so successful at making money is very difficult to stop once it has started. Trains, omnibuses, walls and, as we have seen, newspapers were plastered with advertisements for every kind of item you could imagine. There was even a court case in 1895 in which a man (who sounds like a bit of a busy-body) took an omnibus firm to court because their advertisements in the carriage covered part of the window:

ADVERTISING ON OMNIBUSES

Yesterday, at Bow Street, Mr. Vaughan had another point to decide with respect to omnibus advertising. The complainant was the Rev. William James Jenkins, and he summoned the London General Omnibus Company for unlawfully suffering a certain advertisement to appear on the inside of a stage carriage so as to cause annoyance to passengers.

Mr. Hicks (of the firm of Hicks, Davis, and Hunt) appeared for the Company.

Mr. Jenkins conducted his case in person, and he stated that on the morning of the 26^th ult. he was riding in the Strand in an omnibus belonging to the defendant Company, and noticed that, contrary to the statute, advertisements were affixed to the windows. Mr. Vaughan — On every window in the omnibus?

Mr. Jenkins —I won't say that there were advertisements on every window, but they certainly appeared on at least six of the windows in this particular omnibus.

Mr. Vaughan — Did they cover any part of the window.

Witness — Yes, they covered the top of the window to a depth of five or six inches.

Mr. Vaughan — Did you notice what the advertisements were?

Witness — l noticed there was a soap advertisement.

Mr. Vaughan — Did the advertisements cause any obstruction to you?

Witness — Yes, they did; I had to bend my head to see whether I was Hearing my destination.

Mr. Vaughan— You mean to say that, when looking straight, you could not see? Witness —Not what I wanted to see.

Mr. Vaughan — Did you feel yourself aggrieved by that ?

Witness — I felt so much aggrieved that I came here to complain to you. I have here a copy of the regulations I have obtained from the Secretary of State.

Mr. Hicks contended that no evidence had been given in support of the summons. The complaint the Company had to answer was one for suffering an advertisement to appear so as to cause annoyance.

Mr. Vaughan — There are statutory enactments as well as the regulations of the Secretary of State with regard to omnibuses. Advertisements affixed to the window of an omnibus are clearly prohibited.

Mr. Hicks — But this summons is for causing an annoyance, and l am here to meet that. Advertisements have been allowed on these omnibuses for years by the Commissioner of Police, who is the servant of the Secretary of State.

Mr. Vaughan — I know nothing about them. I do not allow them. I have had cases of this sort before, and I have convicted.

Mr. Hicks We are summoned for annoyance, and I want to know how the complainant is annoyed. (To Witness) Why do you devote yourself to worrying omnibus companies in this way?

Witness — I will answer that in the words of the Judges.

Mr. Hicks — At no great length, I hope.

Witness Oh, no; there are only six lines on this occasion, they were most merciful. Witness proceeded to read the expressed opinion of a learned Judge, that a traveller who felt himself aggrieved by the conduct of a railway, tram, or omnibus company was justified in prosecuting on behalf of the general public.

Mr. Hicks — And various magistrates have told you that what you are doing is nonsense.

Witness — On the contrary.

Mr. Hicks — Did Mr. Newton, in dismissing a summons taken out by you, and awarding the other side two guineas costs, say that your proceedings were vexatious?

Mr. Vaughan — l cannot go into that, because I know nothing about the circumstances. Mr. Hicks — I want to know, Mr. Jenkins, what advertisement caused you annoyance. Witness — Advertisements not according to the statute.

Mr. Vaughan — What is the personal annoyance.

Witness — It is, as I said the other day, if I were a tee-totaller, which I am not, I should object to a gin and bitters advertisement.

Mr. Vaughan — That is a hypothetical case.

Mr. Hicks — ln the same way, I suppose, if you were a moral person you would object to anything immoral.

Mr. Vaughan pointed out that these advertisements were prohibited by the regulations of the Secretary of State.

Mr. Hicks — We are not summoned here under the regulations of the Secretary of State. The statute says that before it can be illegal the advertisement must be an annoyance.

Mr. Vaughan — This summons was taken out for an infraction of the statute, and not for an infraction of the Secretary of State's regulations.

Mr. Hicks — I am prepared with independent evidence to show that the advertisements do not cause annoyance.

Mr. Vaughan — The proper course is to withdraw this summons, and then, if you think proper, you can take out a summons for the infringement of the regulations of the Secretary of State. If the Company is wisely advised it will withdraw these advertisements. The regulations are most precise. It is ordered that advertisements shall not be affixed to the windows. It is not a case of the exclusion of light or air. Witness — If the Company follows your advice and withdraws these advertisements, I will take no further proceedings.

Mr. Hicks — That is very good of you.

Mr. Vaughan — lf the complainant chooses he can take proceedings in the way indicated.

This summons is withdrawn.

            - Morning Post - Friday 4th October 1895

‘An old soldier’ wrote the following letter to The Morning Post ten years later, for the Queen’s diamond jubilee in 1897 in which he complained that the articles on show were of a very poor quality:

AN OLD SOLDIER TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST.

SIR, — The Jubilee has been the means of flooding the shop windows with wares of every sort and kind bearing the National emblems: Jubilee mugs, walking-sticks, charms, photograph frames, links, watches, pins, clocks — nothing is lacking; but it is too lamentable to see the terrible errors which have been made in carrying out the heraldic part of the designs. It has, alas! too long been evident that heraldry is almost forgotten by this generation, for it almost seems that the chief necessity in colouring the national emblems is to do that which is the reverse of right. To represent the historic Union Rose of York and Lancaster, so long the badge of England (and now taking its part in the Union badge), as a garden variety of red or white, or to omit the double treasure within which the Scotch lion should perform his gymnastic feats, are merely minor errors. Again, we frequently see the Irish harp on a green ground instead of the Royal blue; also the colours of the lions and of the ground on which they disport themselves reversed. I noticed at a certain store in the vicinity of Albert-gate the red St. George's Cross in the Union flag shown blue, St. Patrick white on red, and St. Andrew blue on white. Surely, when one sees these flagrant mistakes, it is time that some steps should be taken to prevent unscrupulous tradesmen from foisting on a credulous public these despicable parodies of the National insignia. Has not the Earl Marshal of England the power to forbid or punish such desecration? or, if not, cannot Parliament confer such power on him? Now that her Majesty's uniforms have ceased to clothe the sandwichmen, could not some little attention be paid to this misuse of the Royal Arms and badges? Truly there are a few bright exceptions, amongst them a well known Bond Street firm, who are making the most laudable efforts to ensure the strictest accuracy in design, and their Jubilee souvenirs are most instructive, being quite an education to those not well versed in the intricacies of heraldry. — Yours, &c,

            - Morning Post, 4th June, 1897

In 1897 you could get yourself anything from a jubilee bible, or a jubilee prayer book, to a jubilee handkerchief or a jubilee ash tray. I have even seen mentions of a jubilee comb and a jubilee toothpick. Another big national event and nothing changes. (Do you still have your Charles and Diana commemorative wall-plate?)

But what did the Victorian public make of all these invasive and ever-present advertisements that were spreading over the city like technicolour ivy?

Victorian Bill-Posters

I discovered many, many letters similar to the one above, in which concerned members of the public wrote complaints to editors of various newspapers concerning advertising:

“If you once give the pushing advertiser scope you never know where he will finish. He not only disfigures our walls and hedgerows, but he desecrates and spoils the landscape, and if he were allowed he would call in even the clouds to his aid.“ (From a letter to the editor of Reynolds's Newspaper, October 1895)

I managed to find a particularly humerous opinion piece on the subject of advertising, and it came, interestingly, from the London Society magazine all the way back in 1863, suggesting that the onslaught of advertising was perhaps a slow-burner, that exploded in the late 1880’s:

The Modern Art of Advertising.

There is a worldly wisdom continually crying aloud at the corners of the streets and arresting a considerable amount of popular attention – a wisdom which, utterly discarding the theory of happiness which would teach mankind to make their wants few, is never tired of reminding us how long we have been satisfied without obtaining possession of those things which properly constituted minds have recognized as necessities.

Of the thousand conveniences that ‘nobody should be without’, a large percentage becomes so notorious that we dare not acknowledge our ignorance of the comforts they profess to bestow. Of the thousand worthless inventions which are published into public notice by loud reiteration of their supposed qualities, a still larger proportion finds purchasers who cannot doubt the testimony of big placards and favourable certificates.

'Nothing is done now without advertising' has become an indisputable statement in relation to almost every trade where there is any possibility of competition; and even the quietest, sternest representatives of the quiet old steady men of business, who rejoiced in their scorn of a puff, and long held fast to the proverb that ‘Good wine needs no bush’ – have latterly been compelled to adopt the new method which has been introduced by the revolution effected through advertisements.

There is, doubtless, much to be said in favour of our present system, and to people really ‘in want’ of an article intended to serve a desired purpose, there can be no excuse on the score of ignorance, and much unnecessary trouble is saved: at the same time industry and invention are stimulated, and many actual wants are created which indirectly improve the condition of mankind.

Having frankly, and with considerable difficulty, admitted this much, it is surely excusable to point out the lamentable results which our present system of advertising have brought upon a number of individuals who have a right to be considered, and of whom the present writer is one.

In the first outburst of the advertising mania – the most startling symptoms of which were enormous placards announcing ‘monstre concerts’ and ‘cheap clothing’ – the government wisely interfered to prevent huge and sometimes revolving structures of timber, pasteboard and papier mache, from being drawn through the streets  by horses, to the obstruction of roadways and the danger of Her Majesty’s subjects. The class of which the present writer is one – the nervous, the hypochondriac, the irritable portion of the London public – may I add that portion of the public possessing a refined organization and a high sense of moral responsibility? – these, I say, were very grateful for this;  but what the better are we off at this moment, when the entire street architecture of this great metropolis is emblazoned with garish posters – when every blank wall smells of printers’ ink, and all London seems to have entered into a conspiracy to shout emphatic falsehoods in letters two feet long?

If anything could add to the horror occasioned by this state of things, it would be the miserable want of appropriateness which characterizes the mode of advertizing. There was once the chance of an obnoxious ‘bill’ exhibited on a builders hoarding, being overlaid by another less repulsive; but now that the ‘bill posters’ have themselves become capitalists, and buy up acres of dead wall and temporary fence for their exclusive use, the public is entirely at their mercy; and while the palings enclosing the site for a new chapel flame with dramatic sensations, - the exterior walls of harmonic retreats contain parochial announcements or appeals to the working classes.

Why should an individual with the physical and moral organization above alluded to be physically startled by the impertinent questions, and the still more impertinent assertions that stare upon him from every side? There is at least some redress for us if we are suddenly assaulted, or if we are knocked down and run over by a careless driver in the public streets; and it may be well maintained that these verbal assaults are even more brutal, - the shameless insults to our sensibilities more flagrant than any more physical violence. It is true that I have known of very severe personal accidents resulting from a strong north-east wind, and its effects upon the itinerant advertisers who carry great placards upon wooden frames; but these are nothing to the injuries of which I complain.

For what reason, let me ask, am I to be haunted, even in the seclusion of my own house, with enquiries from the opposite wall, - why I pay more than I do pay for all sorts of articles of domestic use? – why I do not double up my bedsteads? – whether I know where to go for the commonest necessaries of life? Why does some persistent child (I have no family) continually address me as papa and ask me to take it to some terrible bazaar or toy shop? Why, above all, am I (not advised) but absolutely commanded to eat and drink all sorts of things which would disagree with me; - to read half a dozen newspapers and periodicals (lying publications), each of which has a considerably larger circulation than any other? Why, above all, am I insulted by being made to speak for myself: and after having seen quite enough of sensation dramas to last a lifetime, to declare that I want to see any of them again?

Some of the questions are, on the face of them, grossly immoral. I remember having seen quite an eruption of little black bills on a fence near my house, enquiring if I wanted a cheap funeral; while in some others, addressed to the working classes, the question was artfully insinuated, ‘Why pay rent?’ there was an attempt to explain this shameful question away by some allusion to a building society I admit, but that is very little to the purpose.

The suburbs of London are distinguished, either by a more glaring display of colour in the bills which adorn the walls, or by a mere reliance upon size as regards the letters. The inhabitants must, many of them, be reduced to the last stage of indignation at the impudent meddling with their affairs which many of these remarks display; or at all events at the assumption of confidential smartness with which they appeal to vulgar readers. I referred the origin of the advertising mania to the monstre concerts and the cheap clothiers, but, in reality, the actual parents of the funny and confidential, and therefore inexpressibly vulgar announcements were the itinerant vendor of ginger beer and the marine store dealer.

Who cannot remember that painted board which adorned the red and blue ginger beer truck, once seen in the streets, but now seldom to  be found, except at fairs  and  on the road side, by commons and open pleasure-grounds?  The design was singularly infelicitous, inasmuch as on a broiling July day it depended for effect solely on recollections of the Christmas pantomime. There was clown, who, speaking from a long inflated bladder protruding from his mouth, was supposed to say, 'Here we are, try our ginger pop;' while to add force to his illustration of its merit, he had just discharged the cork from a bottle into the eye of pantaloon. Meanwhile, a short-waisted lady, with a large parasol, and a gentleman in a light blue body coat, recorded their conviction ‘that that was the shop for ginger-pop.'

The present style of theatrical advertisement is so obviously borrowed from the marine store dealer, that there can be no other proof required of the decay of the British drama.

That there may be many unenlightened, shall I say miserably misguided people, over the border of London, to whom slangy appeals are not offensive, I am afraid must be conceded, else why did I have thrust  into my hand the other day a bill  which, emanating from a tailor's shop in Whitechapel, spoke of the proprietor as 'a kicksies builder,' and made known the fact that as he had 'just made his escape from America, not forgetting to put his mauleys on some of the right sort  of stuff,' he was in a position, having 'some ready in his kick, to grab the chance' of buying some material for his business? After reading this, I was scarcely surprised to learn that 'Upper Benjamins' were 'built on a downy plan,'  that 'Moleskins built hanky panky,' and 'with artful buttons at bottom,' were quoted at  'half a monarch,' or that some other articles of wearing apparel were generally disposed of as 'mud pipes,' 'knee caps,' and 'trotter cases.'  Beyond the suburbs themselves the advertisements extend as they decrease in size; but still on park walls, railway arches, and canal bridges the weary public are enjoined to 'try' everything, from gin to soothing syrup, and are furthermore conjured to 'COUGH NO MORE.'

Our public conveyances are but traps in which the tired wayfarer is forced to seek some distraction from the wretched accommodation afforded him by perpetually repeating to himself the form of words from which he fancies he has found a temporary refuge. Almost in despair, and at the suggestion of a friend, I was recently induced to engage that description of cab known as ‘a Hansom’ to take me to ‘The West End’. There, at least, I believed I should be free from torment. But with a refinement of ingenuity little less than diabolical, an oval announcement of cheap cutlery had been placed on the splash-board, there to stare me mercilessly in the face.

'The West End' itself is of course a saturnalia of advertisements. Announcements that 'He is coming' vie in intensity of colour with blatant injunctions to eat, buy, and see everything; till in a wild jumble of The Duke's Motto, elastic garters, Revalenta Arabica,  food for cattle, Morison's pills, the Cure, anti-garotters, and the Original Nerves, the afflicted observer seeks a refuge in the nearest tavern, where he is fortunate if he doesn't find the very pipe-lights to be mere cardboard slips printed with some sensational recommendation; and will, perhaps, afterwards discover that a circular playbill has been pasted inside his hat by some unseen agent of an enterprising manager.

Of those poor decrepit and suffering creatures, the wretched heralds of every novelty in turn, the wearers of those ghastly tabards which sometimes shock humanity by the strange want of harmony between their inscriptions and the appearance of those who are clothed by them, much might be said. To have seen a procession of old, greasy, and napless men, each of whom was labeled 'The Angel of Midnight,' was startling. To see a poor fainting creature sink from starvation under the burden of announcing 'good and cheap dinners,' was painful; but it was left to one of the representative men of Mr. George Cruikshank to achieve the sublime in this sort of illustration. It was no fault of Mr. Cruickshank, of course; the moral of is great picture was and is obvious – was and is striking: that too convivial herald, faithfully represented by the artist, had never had an opportunity of taking the lesson to his soul.

Wasn't the thing almost a public scandal? Imagine the inveterate toper – the humble worshipper of Bacchus, proposing the health of Mr. Cruikshank with the usual sentiment, 'May he ne'er want a friend nor a bottle to give him!'

I have scarcely been able to walk the West End streets since this last occurrence. Not altogether in consequence of that, however, but because of a very extraordinary accident which befel me recently on my return to town after a short excursion. I was coming home by an evening train on the Blank Dashton Railway, and as we stayed three minutes and a quarter for refreshments, contrived to swallow a cup of hot coffee, and to scramble in a very inflated condition into a carriage just as the train was starting. I had entered a second or third class carriage by mistake, and after a hurried glance round imagined it to be empty; until I was seized with a violent and disagreeable hiccough, the result, I believe, of the coffee. It was at that moment that, looking up over the newspaper over which I had been glancing by the uncertain light, I saw a large burly man who held in his hand a great pill-box. This he extended towards my face, until I read, printed on the lid, 'If this should meet the eye of anyone troubled with --.' I was about to thank him, when I was conscious of a dark solemn gentleman at my elbow who whispered in a sepulchral tone, 'Look to your legs.' To hear was to obey. I glanced, not without misgiving, at those limbs. 'Do your trousers fit you?' said a third dapper-looking traveller, who at that moment appeared on the opposite seat and spoke reproachfully. 'To those who have tender feet,' murmured a voice in the corner. 'Let those who are troubled with gout or rheumatism take these pills,' interrupted a sonorous passenger who held in his hand a box similar to the last. ‘No more pills, nor any other kind of medicine,' retorted an unseen voice. 'It was observed by Dr. Johnson,' resumed the former speaker, persistently. 'Thirty-seven port and matchless sherry,' murmured somebody in the corner. 'Pure and invigorating  essence, – bloom of roses and  indelible hair dye; – waterproof leggings – invisible wigs – self-fastening stays –repressible crinolines – surely the prettiest dress worn by boys this hundred years,' said all the passengers, at once plunging into general remarks, but evidently referring to me as the object of conversation. Suddenly I felt some ligature bound tightly round my body. I knew it in an instant; it was a strangely­ formed metal band for the cure of goodness knows what; I'd seen its portrait as adjusted to the human figure hundreds of times. Sharp throbs shot through my chest and penetrated every limb 'Compose yourself,' said a calmly cruel voice at my elbow; 'no pain will be felt in removing either decayed teeth or stumps.' I saw the glitter of the dental instruments, and as they flashed before my eyes, made a desperate effort to throw off my assailant.

'Hallo, guv'nor! wake up, and don't go knockin' your head agin the lantern that way:- we’re a goin to shunt off the carriages: lucky I happened to look in; an' you all by yourself too. Where are we! Why, London.'

            .

There were no other passengers in the carriage, but the hideous tokens of their presence were blankly staring at me from the wooden panels in the shape of numerous advertisements.

-          London Society, August 1863

You need only look at certain examples of street photography to see what the above observer meant. Here are a few examples of Victorian advertising:

The Alhambra, 1899

The Aldgate Pump

Saturday Bridge, Birmingham, 1901

Agent provocateur advert on Marble Arch

By the 1880’s there were very few empty walls in major cities, especially London, and whilst the problem is probably not quite as ugly today – insamuch as you wont find many buildings covered in handbills – advertising has encroached upon almost every aspect of our lives. TV, radio, newspapers, magazines, carrier bags, trains, taxi’s, busses, football kits, websites, billboards and even beamed by light onto famous landmarks (remember the agent provocateur advert on Marble Arch a few years ago? Or Nokia beaming an advert onto Millbank tower?) But, it seems like it is simply a part of our culture now, and has been pervading it for the last one hundred and fifty years.

Now, I’ll take one Wenlock and Mandeville tea-towel please…

“Give Life and Animation to Those Noble Games!” Or: The 1896 Olympics – Part Two:

Last week we looked at the origins of the modern Olympics, and learned that we owe their return to the sporting calendar in 1896 after a 1,500 year hiatus to Pierre de Coubertin. This week, we shall explore the actual games. What happened? Who won what? And what were the Olympics like then, as opposed to now?

First of all, we all know that the Olympics begin with an opening ceremony. Who can forget the archer in the wheelchair at Barcelona in 1992, or the drummers at Beijing in 2008? So, what did Athens in 1896 do to herald this new era of international sport?

Well, an estimated eighty thousand people made their way into the Panathinaiko Stadium, (to put that in a little context, that’s five thousand more people than it takes to fill Manchester United’s Old Trafford stadium) including the Greek Royal Family, one member of which, Prince Constantine, had been instrumental in drumming up enthusiasm and funds for the games. As president of the IOC, he made a speech, after which his father, King George I declared the games officially open. The ceremony itself consisted mostly of music. There was no Olympic Flame here, that didn’t appear until 1928 (Neither were the famous Olympic rings present, they were not designed until 1912). So instead, there were nine bands and a hundred and fifty choir singers, who performed Spyridon Samaras and Kostis Palamas’s Olympic Hymn;

Immortal spirit of antiquity,
Father of the true, beautiful and good,
Descend, appear, shed over us thy light
Upon this ground and under this sky
Which has first witnessed thy unperishable fame.
Give life and animation to those noble games!
Throw wreaths of fadeless flowers to the victors
In the race and in strife!
Create in our breasts, hearts of steel!
Shine in a roseate hue and form a vast temple
To which all nations throng to adore thee.

Opening Ceremony in the Panathinaiko Stadium

In 1957, the IOC declared this hymn the official Olympic anthem. The Pall Mall Gazette covered the Olympics quite extensively, and printed results of the events. They also did a short write-up about on opening ceremony:

THE OLYMPIC GAMES AT ATHENS:

The spectators of yesterday's events were calculated to number eighty thousand. The Royal party arrived at three o'clock. They were met in the centre of the arena by the Crown Prince, surrounded by the members of the organizing committee. His Highness in a short speech then formally begged the King to take over the Stadion, the restoration of which had been rendered possible by the generosity of a wealthy Greek. His Majesty, in reply, expressed his admiration for the incomparable beauty of the structure. He also cordially welcomed the athletic youth who had come from all parts of the world to lend additional brilliance to the festival. His Majesty finally took formal possession of the Stadion in the name of Greece. The King and the other members of the Royal party then proceeded to their allotted seats. The united bands then performed the special Olympic anthem, composed by M. Samara, which was conducted by the composer himself. The games commenced immediately afterwards.

            - Pall Mall Gazette, April 7th 1896

So what exactly were the events in which the athletes took part? There were nine sports at the Olympics back then (in contrast with the 28 at the 2008 games in Beijing) They were:

Gymnastics

Athletics

Cycling

Fencing

Shooting

Swimming

Tennis

Weightlifting

Wrestling

The first event to take place was the hundred metres, which was won by Francis Lane of USA, and his victory, and the subsequent impressive medal-haul of the USA team would become a stalwart of all future Olympics.

The greatest joy for the home support was to see one of their athletes, Spyridion Louis, win the marathon by a huge seven minutes. The marathon is an event of great historical importance to Greece, as – so the legend goes – the first marathon ever to take place was in 490 BC, when Pheidippides, a soldier from Athens, ran 26 miles from battle in Marathon, in which the Greeks defeated their Persian invaders, in order to tell his fellow Athenians that they had been victorious. After relaying his message, he died from exhaustion.

Spyridion Louis (Left) being cheered as he nears the marathon finish line in the stadium

The Greeks then, were overjoyed when messengers outside the Panathinaiko stadium (where the marathon finishing line was situated) relayed the chant of ‘Hellene! Hellene!’ (A Greek! A Greek!) as Louis approached well-clear of his rivals to become a national hero and emulate the success of Pheidippides over two thousand years before him on Athenian soil. Even more satisfying was that Louis was not a professional athlete, and turned down riches and fame to go back to his simple as a shepherd in a small village after his success at the games.

The swimming sounds like a rather more dangerous event than we know today. Hungarian swimmer Alfred Hajos won both the 100 metre and 1,200 metre races, the second of which involved the athletes being ferried out 1,200 metres to sea on a boat before jumping into the water and swimming back to land. Hajos went on to say that his; “…will to live completely overcame the desire to win”. Which is not a surprise.

Alfred Hajos

My favourite story of the Olympics, though, concerns Tennis and the MP John Boland. Boland was in Athens during the Olympics to visit his friend, Thrasyvoulos Manos. Manos was a member of the Athens Lawn Tennis sub-committee of the IOC, and had struggled to attract athletes to compete in the tennis. With the numbers a little short, Manos entered Boland, and the MP went on to win the singles tournament, defeating the Egyptian Dionysios Kasdaglis in the final. Even more impressive, Boland was also entered into the doubles competition, pairing up with Friedrich Traun (whom Boland had defeated in the first round of the singles competition) and the pair went on to win the event, giving Boland his second gold medal and making him the most successful Brit at the games, despite travelling to Athens with no intention of even competing in them. After the Olympics, the Pall Mall Gazette gave a rather waspish account of the inadequacy of the Greeks, and poked a bit of fun at their famous historical figures:

John Boland

The Olympic Games are over. It is to be hoped that the resurgent glory of Greece is not overshadowed by the victory of Mr. Boland (Dublin) over Mr. Themistocles (Athens) at the gentle game lawn tennis, and by the swimming performance of Mr. Hajos (Hungary), who easily defeated Mr. Nicias, Mr. Eschylus, Mr. AlcIbiades, and other members of the best-known Greek families…
               - Pall Mall Gazette 16th April 1896

The closing ceremony took place on 15th April, with, once again, the Royal Family present. The Greek national anthem opened the ceremony before the King distributed the prizes to the winners. In 1896, first placed athletes received a silver medal, an olive branch and a diploma, and second placed athletes received a copper medal, olive branch and diploma, whilst third placed athletes received nothing.

After this, marathon winner and new Greek hero Spyridion Louis lead the athletes on a lap of honour around the stadium whilst the Olympic hymn was played, before King George pronounced the games officially at an end.

Awarding the Prizes

So what was the final result of the 1896 games? Medal-wise, host nation Greece fittingly won the most medals overall, with a total of 46, but the USA were not far behind.

When the Olympics came to an end, the officials were full of praise for Athens, and suggested the games should be held there every four years. The American team even sent a letter to King George I to suggest as much, but Coubertin preferred the idea of the Olympics being an international event, and that the host city could be changed every year in order to bring the joy of sport to as many different parts of the world as possible. Athens would have to wait another 108 years until the Olympics returned in 2004.

The Olympics that followed the Athenian games were held in Paris in 1900, but were a bit of an anti-climax since the Parisians decided to incorporate the games in the World’s Fair they were hosting, meaning that the sporting events took a back seat to the technological exhibits, such as the first escalators, Rudolf Diesel’s engine, and the star attraction, the Great Exposition refractor – the largest refracting telescope ever seen. The shame about the lack of interest in the Paris Olympics is that Paris was Coubertin’s home town, and I imagine that he would have been overjoyed had the Olympics been a success there. He would go on to see eight more Olympic games take place before his death in 1937, however – and happily – the 1924 Olympics returned to Paris, beating competition from Los Angeles, Rio and Rome. This time around the city got it right, and Coubertin, at the age of 61, got to see his Olympic dream take place in his home town.

The London Olympics has had its naysayers and doom-mongers, and some of their objections I agree with, but there can be little doubt that the Olympics is an event of global and historical significance, as well as, of course, a great showcase for the world’s greatest athletes, and London should be proud to be hosting for the third time.

I just hope the swimmers a grateful they’re not being ferried out to the English Channel and dropped overboard for their event...

"I declare the opening of the first international Olympic Games in Athens. Long live the Nation. Long live the Greek people." Or: The 1896 Olympics – Part One:

This is a big year for sport in the UK, with the Olympics and Paralympics set to descend upon us in the summer after a seven year wait, and make London the first city to stage the event three times, after previously hosting in 1908 and 1948.

Naturally, I was interested to see how the Victorians got on with the Olympics (the games having been revived for the modern age five years before Victoria’s death after a 1,500 year Hiatus) and so I set about looking at details of the 1896 and 1900 games.

The Olympics were – and still are – associated with Greece. The oldest Olympics for which records still exist are the games of 776 B.C, and during this era the sporting event was held every four years in Olympia, Greece, in honour of the God Zeus. This carried on until the Olympics were abolished in 393 A.D by the Roman Emperor Theodosius.

1,503 years later, the Olympics returned; but why?

It all began with a young Frenchman, Pierre de Coubertin, who, in 1870, experienced his country being overrun by the Germans in the Franco-Prussian war when he was only seven years old. This event, and what Coubertin saw as the weakness of his country, would play a major role in the birth of the modern Olympics. So who was this Coubertin?

Coubertin

He was born into an aristocratic family, and so, when he became an adult, had the typical choices ahead of him, such as a military career, or one in politics. Coubertin, though, chose a different path, and became an intellectual. He studied a wide range of topics, from history to sociology, but the one that caught his imagination the most was education.

Coubertin’s studies in education soon led him to focus on physical education, and the significance of schools teaching competitive sports to their pupils. He came to England in 1883, when he was twenty, and studied the physical education system in English schools, (in particular, Rugby School in Warwickshire, where the great educator, Thomas Arnold put physical education systems in place in the late 1820’s) Coubertin saw a direct link between the standard of physical education in schools and the expansion of the British Empire, stating that “Organised sport can create moral and social strength.” In short, he believed that men who were well-practiced at sport would be better prepared mentally as well as physically, to fight in wars. Coubertin was thinking of the ease with which France – a country which practiced very little physical education in schools – was subjected to a humiliating defeat in 1870.

Being an intellectual historian, also, Coubertin knew of the Olympics of ancient Greece, and decided that an event such as the Olympics, if revived, could be key in stimulating not only physical, but intellectual improvements in men. In 1890 he founded Union des Sociétés Francaises de Sports Athlétiques (USFSA) a sports organization which he hoped would be able to drum up support for physical education in schools. His ideas were met with apathy. In 1892, he decided to make public his ideas for reviving the Olympics. In Paris, speaking at a meeting of the Union des Sports Athlétiques, he said:

“Let us export our oarsmen, our runners, our fencers into other lands. That is the true Free Trade of the future; and the day it is introduced into Europe the cause of Peace will have received a new and strong ally. It inspires me to touch upon another step I now propose and in it I shall ask that the help you have given me hitherto you will extend again, so that together we may attempt to realise, upon a basis suitable to the conditions of our modern life, the splendid and beneficent task of reviving the Olympic Games…”

Again, he was met with inaction and apathy. However, he persisted, and a further two years later he managed to organize a meeting made up of delegates of nine different countries at the Sorbonne Congress of 1894. At this meeting he made further passionate pleas and reasons why, in his mind, the Olympic Games should be revived for the benefit of the whole of Europe. This time, he garnered some interest, and the delegates present voted for a return of the ancient Olympic Games. Coubertin formed the international Olympic Committee (IOC) and set about organizing the first Olympics in over 1,500 years.

The obvious and most romantic choice for the first modern Olympics was, of course, Greece. The 1896 Olympics were awarded to Athens, and the city enthusiastically welcomed the impending festival of sport, but the Greek politicians were not so keen, and, according to some reports, asked to be relieved of their duty to host the games. Coubertin, along with the President of the newly formed IOC, Demetrios Vikelas, managed to convince the Athenian politicians to accept the games, and after much consideration, and the backing of the Crown Prince Constantine, who threw his weight behind the return of the games, the minds of the politicians were changed, and the organizing began.

Vikelas

The man charged with organizing the 1896 Olympics was the aforementioned president of the IOC, Demetrios Vikelas. The problem that faced him most immediately was, funnily enough, the fact that Greece was in a financially poor state, and politically very unstable (The country actually had two Prime Ministers at the time, who alternated the job of running the country between them) so the first thing Vikelas had to do was raise funds – and the Royal seal of approval from the enthusiastic Prince certainly helped his cause. Perhaps his biggest contribution was to persuade businessman George Averoff to fund a restoration of the Panathinaiko stadium, which had been built around 500BC to host athletics during the Panathenaic games in ancient Greece. Averoff donated 920,000 Drachma’s to the project, which saw the stadium rebuilt using marble from Mount Penteli. The stadium is – perhaps unsurprisingly – the only one in the world made of marble. A statue of Averoff still stands outside the stadium today.

The Greek public, having caught the wave of enthusiasm from the Prince, donated generously, raising 330,000 Drachma’s, the sale of commemorative stamps raised an impressive 400,000 Drachma’s, and along with successful ticket sales, these funds allowed everything to be put into place, and the first modern Olympic Games could begin.

The opening ceremony took place on 6th April 1896 (Unless you were Greek, and were using the Julian Calendar, in which case the opening ceremony was on 25th March) and the final address was made by Prince Constantine’s father, King George I, who proclaimed:

"I declare the opening of the first international Olympic Games in Athens. Long live the Nation. Long live the Greek people."

Next week…Part Two: In which we will explore the events that took place at the 1896 Olympics, the successful countries, the star athletes and the aftermath of the games.