The Tower of Old London
A contemplative moment at the Tower
Rummaging through the thousands of glass slides from the collection of the London & Middlesex Archaeological Society, used for magic lantern slides a century ago at the Bishopsgate Institute, I came upon these enchanting pictures of the Tower of London.
The Tower is the oldest building in London, yet paradoxically it looks even older in these old photographs than it does today. Is it something to do with the straggly beards upon the yeoman warders? Some inhabit worn-out uniforms as if they themselves are ancient relics that have been tottering around the venerable ruins for centuries, swathed in cobwebs. Nowadays, yeoman warders are photographed on average four hundred times a day and they have learnt how to work the camera with professional ease, but their predecessors of a century ago froze like effigies before the lens displaying an uneasy mixture of bemusement and imperiousness. Their shabby dignity is further undermined in some of these plates by the whimsical tinter who coloured their uniforms in clownish tones of buttercup yellow and forget-me-not blue.
As the location of so many significant events in our history, the Tower carries an awe-inspiring charge for me. And these photographs, glorying in the magnificently craggy old walls and bulbous misshapen towers, capture its battered grim monumentalism perfectly. Today, the Tower focuses upon telling the stories of prisoners of conscience that were held captive there rather than displaying the medieval prison guignol, yet an ambivalence persists for me between the colourful pageantry and the inescapable dark history. In spite of the tourist hordes that overrun it today, the old Tower remains unassailable by the modern world.
The Ceremony of the Keys, c.1900
Salt Tower, c. 1910
Byward Tower, c.1910
Bloody Tower, c. 1910
The Tower seen from St Katharine’s Dock, c.1910
Tower Green, c.1910
View from Tower Hill, c, 1900
Upon the battlements, c. 1900
View from the Thames, c. 1910
Bell Tower, c.1900
Bloody Tower, c. 1910
Courtyard at the Tower, c.1910
Byward Tower, c 1910
Yeoman warders at the entrance to Bloody Tower, c. 1910
Vegetable plot in the former moat adjoining the Byward Tower, c.1910
Byward Tower, c. 1900
Water Lane, c 1910
Rampart, c 1900
Yeoman Gaoler – “displaying an uneasy mixture of bemusement and imperiousness.”
Middle Tower, c. 1900
Steps leading from Traitors’ Gate, c. 1900
Steps inside the Wakefield Tower, c. 1900
The White Tower, c. 1910
Royal Armoury, c. 1910
Beating the Bounds, c. 1920
Cannons at the Tower of London, c. 1910
Queen’s House, c. 1900
Elizabeth’s Walk, Beauchamp Tower, c. 1900
Yeoman Warder, c. 1910
Tower seen from St Katharine’s Dock, c. 1910
Images copyright © Bishopsgate Institute
Residents of Spitalfields and any of the Tower Hamlets may gain admission to the Tower of London for one pound upon production of an Idea Store card. Visit the new exhibition which opens tomorrow Coins and Kings: The Royal Mint at the Tower
You may like to take a look at these other Tower of London stories
Chris Skaife, Raven Keeper & Merlin the Raven
Alan Kingshott, Yeoman Gaoler at the Tower of London
Graffiti at the Tower of London
Beating the Bounds at the Tower of London
Ceremony of the Lilies & Roses at the Tower of London
Bloody Romance of the Tower with pictures by George Cruickshank
John Keohane, Chief Yeoman Warder at the Tower of London
Constables Dues at the Tower of London
The Oldest Ceremony in the World
A Day in the Life of the Chief Yeoman Warder at the Tower of London
Joanna Moore at the Tower of London
and these other glass slides of Old London
The High Days & Holidays of Old London
The Fogs & Smogs of Old London
The Forgotten Corners of Old London
The Statues & Effigies of Old London
When our gallant Norman foes
Made our merry land their own.
And the Saxons from the Conqueror were flying.
At his bidding it arose.
In its panoply of stone,
. A sentinel unliving and undying.
Insensible, I trow,
As a sentinel should be.
Though a queen to save her head
should come a-suing.
There’s a legend on its brow
That is eloquent to me.
And it tells of duty done and duty doing.
“The screw may twist and the rack may turn,
And men may bleed and men may burn,
O’er London town and its golden hoard
I keep my silent watch and ward!”
Chorus. The screw may twist, &c.
Within its wall of rock
The flower of the brave
Have perished with a constancy unshaken.
From the dungeon to the block.
From the scaffold to the grave.
Is a journey many gallant hearts have taken.
And the wicked flames may hiss
Round the heroes who have fought
For conscience and for home in all its beauty.
But the grim old fortalice
Takes little heed of aught
That comes not in the measure of its duty.
“The screw may twist and the rack may turn.
And men may bleed and men may burn.
O’er London town and its golden hoard
I keep my silent watch and ward!”
Chorus. The screw may twist, & c …..
Marvellous photographs!
I was taken there as a child in 1936, it must have been the same as those photographs then.
I haven’t been back since – has it changed much ?
Gary
Gary – yes & no.
The surroundings & apputenances have xhanged.
The fortress – no.
One of the strangest views on the planet, one that would defy many fantasy-descriptions as too extreme, yet it is real …
Stand on the S bank of the Thames on Shad Themes, & look NW.
What do you see?
A Victorian steel bridge, cased in stone, “Gothick” in the extreme, beyond & under that the WWII cruiser, preserved as memorial, behind them the thousand-year-old fortress, still keeping its “silent watch & ward” ( Thnak you, W. S. Gilbert ) & as final backdrop the concrte steel & glass towers of a 21st Century city in all its owm pomp.
“London, flower of cities all.”