Susannah Dalbiac’s Diary, 1776
Cover price is £35 but if you order now you can buy it for £30 and you will receive a signed copy on publication in October.
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Margaret Nairne brought her great-great-great-great-aunt’s diary to show me and I publish these excerpts today. It is an Almanack of 1776 belonging to fourteen-year-old Susannah Dalbiac, whose father Charles Dalbiac was a silk & velvet merchant who ran the family business with his brother James at 20 Spital Sq. The Dalbiacs were Huguenots and Susannah’s grandfather escaped France as a youth in a hamper in July 1681 after his parents and three sisters were murdered. At the opening of the diary in January 1776, London was suffering a Great Frost with temperatures as low as minus eighteen degrees. (You can click on any diary page to enlarge it)
Monday JANUARY 1st 1776
Mama & Lucy drank tea at Mrs Martin’s. I stayed at home to make tea for Papa and Cousin James
Tuesday
Papa & Cousin James Dalbiac went to Town before Dinner.
Wednesday
Mama went to Town in the Coach at nine o’clock, took Harriet & Nurse with her. The man came to take down the Organ.
Thursday
We worked at our muffs, drew and did the same as when Mama is at home.
Friday
The man finished packing up the organ. We finished our muffs.
Saturday
I was very glad to see Papa and Mama. They came to dinner. Mama was so good as to make a present of a fan and an Almanack.
Sunday
We did not go to Church. We read a sermon in the morning… The text was Felix’s behaviours towards Paul explained.
Monday JANUARY 15th
Mr Cooke call’d in the morning. They play’d at Quadrille in the evening.
Tuesday
Papa went to town. Mama read Cyrus in the evening.
Wednesday
At Home alone.
Thursday
Mama read Cyrus in the evening.
Friday
Papa came down to dinner. They play’d at Quadrille in the evening.
Saturday
Papa took a ride in the morning to Admiral Geary’s. They play’s at Quadrille in the evening.
Sunday
We read a sermon in the morning, the text was National Mercies considered. I wrote what I understood by it. I kept up a hundred at Battledore Shuttlecock with Miss Watson.
Monday MARCH 11th
Went to Town. Took CM. Din’d at GM’s. Came back to tea. Mama drank tea at Mr Sebly’s. We at home with CM. Papa went to Bookham.
Tuesday
CKL & CM drank tea here. DK slept here.
Wednesday
Papa came to tea. Sally & Frank came to dinner from Bookham.
Thursday
Papa went to Town. We took a ride with Mama & Aunt L to Hackney. Papa came to Dinner.
Friday
Mama took a ride in the Phaeton with Papa.
Saturday
Papa went to Town. Came back to dinner, Papa went to Mr Paris’s. At home with Mama, Lucy and CM.
Sunday
Went to church with CL & we din’d here Papa & Mama drank tea at Uncle Lamotte’s.
(Susannah mistakenly entered her grandmother’s death on the wrong date and crossed it out)
Monday APRIL 1st
Aunt Lamotte went to town with Papa. Came back to tea. They all came in the evening. Grandmama very ill.
Tuesday
Papa went to town. Took CM with him. Came back to tea.
Wednesday
Aunt & Uncle Lamotte went to town with Papa. Aunt and Uncle came back to tea. We spent the day with Mama at Uncle Lamotte’s.
Miss Louise Delaporte
Thursday
Aunt & CL went to town with Papa. Aunt & Uncle came back to tea. We spent the day with Mama at Uncle Lamotte’s.
Grandmama died at four in the evening. Though expected at her age it is always a great loss. She was 84 next July
Friday
Aunt and CL went to Town Came back to dinner with Papa. They spent the evening here. CM came in the morning.
Friday
Papa went to town. Came back to tea. Mama drank tea at Uncle Lamotte’s. CM came here.
Saturday
Went to town with Papa, Uncle and Aunt L & CL who was so good as bespeak some mourning for us, Mama not being well enough. Saw G’mama. Did not find her much alter’d.
Sunday
CL came in the morning. We drank tea at Uncle Lamotte’s. Papa came down in the evening.
Monday APRIL 22nd
Drank tea at Uncle Lamotte’s where we met Uncle Dalbiac’s family
Tuesday
CK call’d. Papa slept in town
Wednesday
Papa came to dinner. Mr Paul and Peter L [..?] spent the day here
Thursday
CM spent the day here. CK called
Friday
Papa went to town. We spent the day at Uncle Lamotte’s
Saturday
CK call’d in the afternoon with MJ Lamotte.
Sunday
Went to church with CK. Sukey din’d here. CM came in the morning.
(Susannah’s own mother had died young and her stepmother gave birth to a baby boy in April.)
Monday APRIL 29th
Mama rather low at little boys going out to nurse. We drank at Uncle. Aunt came here to tea and CL in the evening. Note on opposite page – The little boy went out to nurse upon the Forest the nurse not being able to come.
Tuesday
Papa went to town
Wednesday MAY 1st
Went with nurse Flaxman to see the little boy. Found him very well
Thursday
Staid at home. Aunt Ch CS Dalbiac drank tea here
Friday
Went with nurse Flaxman to see the little boy
Saturday
Papa went to Uncle Lamotte’s in the evening where he met a great many people
Sunday
Went to church with CKL. After church we went with CM to fetch little boy. She spent the day with us.
Monday MAY 13th
Sir John Silvester came to see mama, she was so very low. CK call’d
Tuesday
Sir John Silvester came. Papa went to town came back at night
Wednesday
Papa went to town. Came back for tea.
Thursday
Sir John Silvester came
Friday
Papa went, came to back to tea. Took a ride after tea to see little boy. Found him very well. Call’d on Uncle Lamotte
Saturday
Sir John Silvester came. Ordered mama today a bed till Monday as had a little rash. CM drank tea here.
Sunday
There was no service. Took a ride with Papa & Aunt Lamotte. Called at Uncle Dalbiac.
(Sir John Silvester was a doctor from the French Hospital and one of the top physicians of the day)
(Susannah records her winnings at Quadrille on the right hand page)
Monday JUNE 10th
We drank tea at Mrs Brickendon’s with Mr and Mrs B and C. Walles. Met Mr ? and Mr Forbes
Tuesday
At Home. Play’d at Quadrille in the evening
Wednesday
Mr and Mrs Jourdan came down to dinner. Mrs Fellen and Mrs Draper dined here. Played at Piquet with Mr Barbut.
Thursday
Mrs Brickendon and Miss Streton drank tea here.
Friday
Drank tea at Mrs Brickendon. Lucy played at cards after they came home. Went halfs with her.
Saturday
Drank tea at Mrs Fellen’s. Mr Barbut came down in the Phaeton
Sunday
Went to Church with Miss Barbut. Mrs Rose & Mrs Forbes. Drank tea here.
Monday JUNE 24th
Spent the day at Uncle Lamotte’s. Slept there. Left Wanstead Lane.
Tuesday
In the Morning Papa tooke with the Phaeton to Uncle Dalbiac’s. Took a walk in the evening to see Harriet with Aunt.
Wednesday
At home alone.
Thursday
Spent the day at Sir J Silvester’s with Aunt & Uncle, CL & CM. We had a very agreeable day.
Friday
At home all day
Saturday
We went with Aunt in the morning to see little boy. Found him very well at 1 0’clock Mr Gallie called in the coach. We went with him to Uncle Lamotte’s
Monday JULY 1st
The coach came for us after Dinner to go to Town. Found Mama very well which made me quite happy
Tuesday
Went with mama the other end of Town in the morning. Very busy all day.
Wednesday
We all went down to Uncle Lamotte’s in the evening.
Thursday
Went to Town in the morning. CL & CM with us. We all went to Vauxhall in the evening & I found it much greater than my expectations as I had never see it before. In the morning we saw little Harriet and little boy.
Friday
Very busy all day. Mr Laport din’d with us. He came from New Providence to see Grandmama his sister but was disappointed.
Saturday
We set out a journey…
There is a gap in Susannah Dalbiac’s diary between 6th July and 14th October, after which she is in Paris and from then on many of the entries are written in French. It may be that her stepmother’s illness led the family to return to France where she had relatives or that the turbulence of the Weavers’ Riots in Spitalfields at this time caused James Dalbiac to withdraw his business. Susannah never married or had children but, living with her sister Louisa, she died at her brother-in-law Peter Luard’s house, Blyborough Hall, Lincolnshire in 1842, aged eighty.
Click here for details of events in the current HUGUENOT SUMMER festival
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At Ben Truman’s House
Cover price is £35 but if you order now you can buy it for £30 and you will receive a signed copy on publication in October.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER A SIGNED COPY OF ENDURANCE & JOY
Behold the shadows glimmering in this old house in Princelet St built in the seventeen-twenties for Benjamin Truman. A hundred years later, a huge factory was added on the back which more than doubled the size. In the twentieth century, this became the home of the extended Gernstein family who left the house in the eighties. Notable as Lionel Bart’s childhood home, who once returned to have his portrait taken by Lord Snowden on the doorstep, in recent years it has served as the location for innumerable film and photo shoots. More recently, it has become a venue for art exhibitions. Now, as if to complete the circle, the house has been acquired by the proprietors of the Old Truman Brewery.
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My Quilt
In response to the nights closing in, I have been spending more time under my quilt
The great majority of my stories were written beneath this quilt that I made a few years ago and which has special meaning for me. Once dusk gathers, I retreat to my bed to work each afternoon, abandoning my desk that has become piled with layers of paper and taking consolation in the warmth and comfort under my quilt, as the ideal snug location to devise my daily compositions. While the autumn enfolds the city and rain falls outside, I am happy in my secure private space, writing to you through the long dark nights in Spitalfields.
This is the only quilt I ever made and I make no claims for my ability as a stitcher which is functional rather than demonstrating any special skill. Once I made a shirt that I sewed by hand, copying the pattern from one I already had, and it took me a week, with innumerable unpicking and resewing as I took the pieces apart and reassembled them until I achieved something wearable. It was a beautiful way to spend a week, sitting cross-legged sewing on the floor and although I am proud of the shirt I made, I shall not attempt it again.
My quilt is significant because I made it to incarnate the memory of my mother, and as a means to manifest the warmth I drew from her, and illustrated with the lyrical imagery that I associate with her – something soft and rich in colour that I could enfold myself with, and something that would be present in my daily life to connect me to my childhood, when I existed solely within the tender cocoon of my parents’ affections. My sweetest memories are of being tucked up in bed as a child and of my parents climbing onto the bed to lie beside me for ten minutes until I drifted off.
For several years, after the death of my father, I nursed my mother as she succumbed to the dementia that paralysed her, took away her nature, her mind, her faculties and her eventually her life. It was an all-consuming task, both physically and emotionally, being a housewife, washing bed sheets constantly, cooking food, and feeding and tending to her as she declined slowly over months and years. And when it was over, at first I did not know what to do next.
One day, I saw a woollen tapestry at a market of a fisherman in a sou-wester. This sentimental image spoke to me, like a picture in a children’s book, and evoking Cornwall where my mother was born. It was made from a kit and entailed hours of skillful work yet was on sale for a couple of pounds, and so I bought it. At once, I realised that were lots of these tapestries around that no-one wanted and I was drawn to collect them. Many were in stilted designs and crude colours but it did not matter to me because I realised they look better the more you have, and it satisfied me to gather these unloved artifacts that had been created at the expense of so much labour and expertise, mostly – I suspected – by old women.
I have taught myself to be unsentimental about death itself, and I believe that human remains are merely the remains – of no greater meaning than toenails or hair clippings. After their demise, the quality of a person does not reside within the body – and so I chose to have no tombstone for my parents and I shall not return to their grave. Instead, through making a quilt, I found an active way to engage with my emotion at the loss of a parent and create something I can keep by me in fond remembrance for always.
I laid out the tapestries upon the floor and arranged them. I realised I needed many more and I discovered there were hundreds for sale online. And soon they began to arrive in the mail every day. And the more I searched, the more discriminating I became to find the most beautiful and those with pictures which I could arrange to create a visual poem of all the things my mother loved – even the work of her favourite artists, Vermeer, Millet, Degas and Lowry, as well as animals, especially birds, and flowers, and the fishing boats and seascapes of her childhood beside the Cornish coast.
Over months, as the quilt came together, there with plenty of rejections and substitutions in the pursuit of my obsession to create the most beautiful arrangement possible. A room of the house was devoted to the quilt, where my cat Mr Pussy came to lie upon the fragments each day, to keep me company while I sat there alone for hours contemplating all the tapestries – shuffling them to discover new juxtapositions of picture and colour, as each new arrival in the mail engendered new possibilities.
The natural tones of the woollen dyes gave the quilt a rich luminous glow of colour and I was always aware of the hundreds of hours of work employed by those whose needlecraft was of a far greater quality than mine. After consideration, a soft lemon yellow velvet was sought out to line it, and a thin wadding was inserted to give it substance and warmth but not to be too heavy for a summer night.
It took me a year to make the quilt. From the first night, it has delighted me and I have slept beneath it ever since. I love to wake to see its colours and the pictures that I know so well, and it means so much to know that I shall have my beautiful quilt of memories of my mother to keep me warm and safe for the rest of my life.
The first tapestry I bought.
Seventies silk butterflies from Florida.
From Thailand.
My grandmother had a print of Millet’s “The Angelus” in her dining room for more than sixty years.
Note the tiny stitches giving detail to the lion’s head in this menagerie.
A unique tapestry from a painting of a Cornish fishing village.
From the Czech Republic.
These squirrels never made it into the quilt.
I could not take this wonderful seascape from its frame, it hangs on my bedroom wall today
You may like to read about Mr Pussy in Winter
John Dempsey’s Portraits
Cover price is £35 but if you order now you can buy it for £30 and you will receive a signed copy on publication in October.
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Fifty Years Porter, Charing Cross, 1824
It is my delight to present John Dempsey’s street portraits from the eighteen-twenties held in the collection of the Tasmanian Museum & Art Gallery. Originally attributed to George Scharf, they were identified as the work of John Dempsey (1802-74) by curator David Hansen who discovered a folio of fifty-one portraits in 1996 in a drawer labelled ‘U’ for unknown.
Dempsey was an itinerant jobbing artist without any formal training who created ‘Likenesses of Public Characters’ in London and the provincial cities of England, as he travelled around in search of commissions for portrait miniatures and silhouettes. No record exists of any exhibitions and in 1845, he was declared bankrupt. Yet his achievement is unique and enduring.
In spite of Dempsey’s unconventional perspective and disproportionate figures, he created portraits full of humanity that evoke the presence of street people and the outcast poor with compassion and vitality. These are portraits of individuals and they are full of life. As an itinerant artist in an age that did not distinguish between street traders and beggars, he dignified his fellow travellers through his portraits. He understood their lives because he shared their precarious existence.
When I first saw these pictures, I was startled by how familiar they appeared to me and I assumed this was because I have spent so much time looking at prints of The Cries of London. But then I realised that I recognised the demeanour and expression of John Dempsey’s portraits because I see them, their crew and their kin, every day as I walk around the streets of London two centuries later.
Sharp, Orange Man, Colchester, 1823
Watercress, Salisbury
Black Charley, Bootmaker, Norwich, 1823
Muffin Man
Mary Croker, Mat Woman, Colchester, 1823
Sam’l Hevens, Old Jew, 1824
Charles M’Gee, Crossing Sweeper, London, c 1824
Old Bishop, Pieman, Harwich
Woolwich, 1824
Match Woman, Woolwich, 1824
Mark Custings (commonly called Blind Peter) and his boy, Norwich, 1823
Copeman, Gardener, Yarmouth
A Bill Poster, 1825
The Doorkeeper, Royal Managerie, Exeter ‘Change, (London) 1824
Images reproduced courtesy of Tasmanian Museum & Art Gallery
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Endurance & Joy in the East End 1971-1987
In spring 2019, David Hoffman asked me to publish his book and now, after more than five years of hard work, we are very proud of it and it is available for you to buy. This is a beautiful cloth-bound hardback of 240 pages containing over 200 duotone photographic prints on good quality paper, to be published on 17th October.
The cover price is £35 but if you order now you can buy it for £30 and you will receive a signed copy on publication.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER A SIGNED COPY OF ENDURANCE & JOY
When he was a young photographer, David Hoffman came to live in a squat in Fieldgate Mansions in Whitechapel and it changed his life. Over the following years, he documented homelessness, racism and the rise of protest in startlingly intimate and compassionate pictures to compose a vital photographic testimony of resilience.
David has written an extensive introduction and commentary outlining his journey to Whitechapel, following in the footsteps of his parents and grandfather before him, and explaining how he became a photographer.
Here you will discover David’s photographs of the exuberant life and residents of Fieldgate Mansions where he squatted, including the police evictions and the street parties. You will discover his astonishing photographs of East End markets, including the animal and the junk markets around Brick Lane. You will discover his poignant photographs of the old East End that was demolished. You will discover his heartbreaking portraits from St Botolph’s homeless shelter. You will discover his raucous photographs of parties at pensioners’ clubs. You will discover his apocalyptic photographs of the first Crisis at Christmas when hundreds of homeless people bedded down in a church. You will discover his surreal photographs of the crucifixion enacted on the streets of Stepney at Easter. You will discover his joyful photographs of street festivals. And you will discover his powerful photographs of the anti-racist protests which came to define that era.
This is an essential book for everyone who loves the East End.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER A SIGNED COPY OF ENDURANCE & JOY
Fieldgate Mansions, 1981
Christmas Party at St Hilda’s, 1975
Club Row animal market, 1980
Homeless people line up for their Christmas dinner in a disused church, 1977
E1 Festival, 1974
Anti-racists occupying Brick Lane to prevent the National Front from setting up its stall following the racist murder of Altab Ali in 1978
Photographs copyright © David Hoffman
Hélène Binet At St Anne’s, Limehouse
An exhibition opening today St Anne’s, Limehouse, and running until 14th March offers an opportunity to view Hélène Binet‘s magisterial photographs of Hawksmoor churches, shown previously at the Venice Biennale.
This is a rare chance to visit one of Hawksmoor’s most mysterious churches. Today and until to Saturday 21st September it is open from 10am-4pm, excluding Sunday, and open on Friday 20th until 8pm. Thereafter, the exhibition is open Fridays and Saturdays 10am-4pm.
Christ Church, Spitalfields (Courtesy of Ammann Gallery)
St George’s, Bloomsbury (Courtesy of the artist)
St Anne’s, Limehouse (Courtesy of Ammann Gallery)
St George-in-the-East, Wapping (Courtesy of the artist)
St Anne’s, Limehouse (Courtesy of the artist)
St George’s, Bloomsbury (Courtesy of Large Glass Gallery)
St Alfege, Greenwich (Courtesy of the artist)
St Mary Woolnoth, Bank (Courtesy of the artist)
Photographs copyright © Hélène Binet
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John Thomas Smith’s Antiquities Of Old London
For good reason John Thomas Smith acquired the nickname ‘Antiquity Smith’ – while working as Keeper of Drawings at the British Museum, between 1790 & 1800, he produced a large series of etchings recording all the antiquities of London, from which I publish this selection of favourites today
Old houses in the Butcher Row near Clement’s Inn, taken down 30th March 1798 – the right hand corner house is suggested to have been the one in which the Gunpowder Plot was determined and sworn
A Curious Pump – in the yard of the Leathersellers’ Hall, Bishopsgate
Sir Paul Pindar’s Lodge, Half Moon Alley, Bishopsgate
A Curious Gate in Stepney – traditionally called King John’s Gate, it is the oldest house in Stepney
London Stone – supposed to be the Millinarium of the Romans from which they measured distances
The Queen’s Nursery, Golden Lane, Barbican
Pye Corner, Smithfield – this memorialises the Great Fire of 1666 which ended at Pye Corner
Old house in King St, Westminster – traditionally believed to have been a residence of Oliver Cromwell
Lollards’ Prison – a stone staircase leads to a room at the very top of a tower on the north side of Lambeth Palace, known as Lollard’s Tower
Old house on Little Tower Hill
Principal gate of the Priory of St Bartholomew, Smithfield
Savoy Prison – occupied by the army for their deserters and transports
Mr Salmon’s, Fleet St
Gate of St Saviour’s Abbey, Bermondsey
Rectorial House, Newington Butts
Bloody Tower – the bones of the two murdered princes were found within the right hand window
Traitors’ Gate
The Old Fountain in the Minories – taken down 1793
The White Hart, Bishopsgate
The Conduit, Bayswater
Staple’s Inn, Holborn
The Old Manor House, Hackney
Dissenting Meeting House at the entrance to Little St Helen’s, taken down 1799
Remains of Winchester House, Southwark
London Wall in the churchyard of St Giles Cripplegate
London Wall in the churchyard of St Giles’ Cripplegate
Figures of King Lud and his two sons, taken down from Ludgate and now deposited at St Dunstan’s, Fleet St, in the Bone House
Images courtesy Bishopsgate Institute
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John Thomas Smith’s Ancient Topography
John Thomas Smith’s Vagabondiana
