Viscountess Boudica & The Headless Horseman
Viscountess Boudica consults her crystal ball
Halloween is a very important festival for Viscountess Boudica, formerly the wise woman of Bethnal Green before she was banished to Uttoxeter.
For days, she had been hanging up her pumpkin decorations, arranging her spooky knick-knacks and organising her witchy outfits in preparation for the big day. “I like it because it is the celebration of the Pagan New Year,” she admitted to me, as one who identifies herself with the Ancient Britons and still adheres to the pre-Julian calendar which contains only ten months.
Yet Viscountess Boudica is also highly sensitive to the significance of Halloween as the time when the spiritual and temporal worlds become permeable. And so, when I visited her to take this series of portraits recording her observation of the rituals and customs of the season, she confided to me this spine-chilling personal account of her first encounter with supernatural forces in the form of a Headless Horseman in Braintree.
“I saw the Headless Horseman for the first time on April 20th 1987 when I lived at Plains Field near Braintree. One night, my friend Ted and I, we walked to the Three Ashes which was down a dark lane full of ditches and hedges and no light. We played darts and there was no-one else there, so I said, ‘It’s getting late and we have to walk back down the lane.’ So we left the pub and walked back in the dark and, after we’d left the lights of the houses behind, this old black iron street lamp appeared in the lane. I said to Ted, ‘Have you heard that Braintee Council was putting lamps up here?’ There was no moon and you could tell this was no normal lamp because it burned with a red flame.
Then we heard the sound of horses’ hooves approaching and, all of a sudden, the clouds parted and it was a full moon and we stood under the lamp as the Horseman appeared, coming closer with his cloak billowing. His big black horse reared up with piercing eyes and foaming at the nostrils. And the rider had no head! But when he lifted his cloak, there was his head with blue eyes and a long grey beard. Then the wind picked up and blew the clouds across the moon, and he took off towards Braintree. I said to Ted, ‘What do you make of that?’ He said, ‘It must be for a film,’ so I said, ‘I didn’t see any cameras.’
I said, ‘What are we going to do? We can’t tell anyone, they wouldn’t believe us.’ Braintree is known for its ghosts and Coggeshall has all the ley lines, so I thought, ‘I’m going to sleep with the lights on,’ and I did for six months.
After five years, in 1992, we decided to go back. Ted said, ‘You’ve got to wear exactly what you wore in 1987,” and we went there on the same day, April 20th, and walked down the lane to the pub but I said to Ted, ‘There’s no chance of seeing him again.’ I took a Polaroid Instamatic camera with me in case I could get a picture. It was five to twelve by the time we returned down the lane and I said to Ted, ‘I don’t think it’s going to happen.’
All of a sudden, the lamp appeared burning with the red flame and we heard the sound of hooves approaching. I said to Ted, ‘Your luck’s in.’ The beating of the hooves got louder but the Headless Horseman galloped past and he set off towards Braintree. Then he turned and came back and the great big horse reared over us and the cloak lifted up and I saw it had a red silk lining. The light grew brighter and I realised it was time, so I produced my camera and took a picture. Immediately, the light went out and he rode away, but when we reached the end of the lane the Headless Horseman was there waiting for us, blocking the path. So we turned and walked back the other way to the pub where we met an old lady.
We showed her the photograph, it was pitch black and all you could see was just the shape of the Horseman. Ted said, ‘I’ll take it to see if we can the resolution improved,’ and he said, ‘We’ll go back again in five years,’ but shortly afterwards he died and that was the end of it.”
Keeling the pot
Hanging the lanterns
Preparing the altar
Brandishing her wand
Working the broomstick
Mixing the brew
With her familiars, Keith & Paul
Consulting the Tarot
Cooking up a spell in the kitchen
Seeing the future in her looking glass
Setting out to bewitch Bethnal Green
Viscountess Boudica – “The only ghostly experience I ever had in Bethnal Green was in the Underground – as I was going down the escalator, someone tapped me on the shoulder but when I turned round there was no-one there. I remember talking to a friendly clairvoyant who told me, ‘There was a witch in your family and that’s why these things happen to you.'”
Drawings copyright © Viscountess Boudica
Be sure to follow Viscountess Boudica’s blog There’s More To Life Than Heaven & Earth
Take a look at
Viscountess Boudica’s Domestic Appliances
Read my original profile of Mark Petty, Trendsetter
and take a look at Mark Petty’s Multicoloured Coats
At The German Church In Aldgate
Click here to book for my last Spitalfields tour of the year
The Altar and Pulpit at St George’s German Lutheran Church, Alie St
In Aldgate, caught between the thunder of the traffic down Leman St and the roar of the construction on Goodman’s Fields sits a modest church with an unremarkable exterior. Yet this quiet building contains an important story, the forgotten history of the German people in the East End.
Dating from 1762, St George’s German Lutheran Church is Britain’s oldest surviving German church and once you step through the door, you find yourself in a peaceful space with a distinctive aesthetic and character that is unlike any other in London.
The austere lines of the interior emphasise the elegant, rather squat proportion of the architecture and the strong geometry of the box pews and galleries is ameliorated by unexpected curves and fine details. In fact, architect Joel Johnson was a carpenter by trade which may account for the domestic scale and the visual dominance of the intricately conceived internal wooden structure. Later iron windows of 1812, with their original glass in primary tones of red and blue, bring a surprising sense of modernity to the church and, even on an October afternoon, succeed in dispelling the gathering gloom.
This was once the heart of London’s sugar-baking industry and, from the mid-seventeenth century onwards, Germans brought their particular expertise to this volatile and dangerous trade, which required heating vast pans of sugar with an alarming tendency to combust or even explode. Such was the heat and sticky atmosphere that sugar-bakers worked naked, thus avoiding getting their clothes stuck to their bodies and, no doubt, experiencing the epilatory qualities of sugar.
Reflecting tensions in common with other immigrant communities through the centuries, there was discord over the issue of whether English or the language of the homeland should be spoken in church and, by implication, whether integration or separatism was preferable – this controversy led to a riot in the church on December 3rd 1767.
As the German community grew, the church became full to overcrowding – with the congregation swollen by six hundred German emigrants abandoned on their way to South Carolina in 1764. Many parishioners were forced to stand at the back and thieves capitalised upon the chaotic conditions in which, in 1789, the audience was described in the church records as eating “apples, oranges and nuts as in a theatre,” while the building itself became, “a place of Assignation for Persons of all descriptions, a receptacle for Pickpockets, and obtained the name St George’s Playhouse.”
Today the church feels like an empty theatre, maintained in good order as if the audience had just left. Even as late as 1855, the Vestry record reported that “the Elders and Wardens of the Church consist almost exclusively of the Boilers, Engineers and superior workers in the Sugar Refineries,” yet by the eighteen-eighties the number of refineries in the vicinity had dwindled from thirty to three and the surrounding streets had descended into poverty. Even up to 1914, at one hundred and thirty souls, St Georges had the largest German congregation in Britain. But the outbreak of the First World War led to the internment of the male parishioners and the expulsion of the females – many of whom spoke only English and thought of themselves as British.
In the thirties, the bell tower was demolished upon the instructions of the District Surveyor, thus robbing the facade of its most distinctive feature. Pastor Julius Reiger, an associate of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a leading opponent of the Nazis, turned the church into a relief centre offering shelter for German and Jewish refugees during World War II, and the congregation continued until 1996 when there were only twenty left.
St George’s is now under the care of the Historic Chapels Trust, standing in perpetuity as a remembrance of more than two centuries of the East End’s lost German community.
The classically-patterned linoleum is a rare survival from 1855
The arms of George III, King of England & Elector of Hanover
The principal founder of the church Diederick Beckman was a wealthy sugar refiner.
The Infant School was built in 1859 as gift from the son of Goethe’s publisher, W. H. Göschen
Names of benefactors carved into bricks above the vestry entrance.
St Georges German Lutheran Church, c. 192o
The bell turret with weathervane before demolition in 1934
The original eighteenth century weathervane of St George & the Dragon that was retrieved from ebay
You may also like to take a look at
Fogs & Smogs Of Old London
Click here to book for my last Spitalfields tour of the year
St. Martin, Ludgate with St. Paul’s Cathedral, c. 1900
At this time of year, when dusk gathers in the mid-afternoon, a certain fog drifts into my brain and the city itself grows mutable as the looming buildings outside my window merge into a dark labyrinth of shadows beyond. Yet this is as nothing compared with the smog of old London – in the days before anyone dreamed of the Ultra Low Emission Zone – when a million coal fires polluted the atmosphere with clouds of filthy black smoke carrying noxious fumes, infections and lung diseases. In old London, the city resounded with a symphony of fog horns on the river and thousands of people coughing in the street.
Looking at these glass slides of a century ago, once used for magic lantern shows by the London & Middlesex Archaeological Society at the Bishopsgate Institute, the fogs and smogs of old London take on quite another meaning. They manifest the proverbial mythic “mists of time,” the miasma wherein is lost all of human history, save the sketchy outline that some idle writer or other jotted down. Just as gauzes at the pantomime conjure the romance of fairyland, the hazes in these pictures filter and soften the images as if they were faded memories, receding into the past.
The closer I examine these views, the more I wonder whether the fog is, in some cases, an apparition called forth by the photographic process itself – the result of a smeary lens or grime on the glass plate, or simply an accident of exposure. Even so, this photographic fogging is no less evocative of old London than the actual meteorological phenomenon. As long as there is atmosphere, the pictures are irresistibly atmospheric. And old London is a city eternally swathed in mist.
St Paul’s Cathedral from the north-west, c. 1920
Pump at Bedford Row, 1911
Cenotaph, 1919
Upper Thames view, c. 1920
Greenwich Hospital from the Park, c. 1920
City roadworks, 1910
Looking north across the City of London, c. 1920
Old General Post Office, c. 1910
View eastwards from St Paul’s, c. 1910
Hertford House, c. 1910
New River Head, c. 1910
The Running Footman public house, c. 1900
Unidentified building, c 1910
Church Row, Hampstead, c. 1910
Danish Ambassador’s residence, Wellclose Square, Wapping c. 1910
Church of All Hallows, London Wall, c. 1890
Drapers’ Almshouses, Bromley Street, c. 1910
Battersea Bridge, c. 1910
32 Smith Grove, Highgate, in the snow, 1906
Unknown public building, c. 1910
Training ship at Greenwich, c. 1910
Flooded moat at the Tower of London, c. 1910
The Woodman, 1900
Bangor St, North Kensington, c. 1910
Terrace of the Houses of Parliament, c.1910
Statue of Boudicca on Westminster Bridge, c. 1910
Glass slides copyright © Bishopsgate Institute
You may also like to take a look at
Modern London, 1888
Click here to book for my last Spitalfields tour of the year
“The attention of our readers is now directed to the history of the rise and progress of leading business houses of London. We have endeavoured to give a review of those firms whose honourable dealings and straightforward methods, irrespective of the magnitude and class of their of operations, make them worthy of the mention they have received” – from Modern London, The World’s Metropolis, 1888
J G Ingram & Son, The London India Rubber Works, Hackney Wick – The business dates back in its foundation over forty years and was established originally by Mr Ingram in Hoxton, before – owing to its rapid development and the necessity for increased accommodation – the present factory was built fifteen years ago.
D H Evans & Co, Silk Mercers, Drapers & Outfitters, Oxford St – Within a comparatively short period of time, this notable concern has developed, through the energy and perseverance of its proprietary, from one shop of average size to one of the largest drapery establishments in London.
John Ward, Patentee & Inventor of Invalid Chairs, Carriages etc, Tottenham Court Rd –This notable business was formed upwards of a century and a half ago. Mr Ward is engaged in this very scientific industry upon a very extensive scale and his productions for the relief of the invalid are esteemed all over the world.
Charles Taylor, The Depository, Southwark, Opposite The Elephant & Castle – There are very few business establishments whose names are more familiar to the general public of London than the name of The Depository, as a monument to Mr Taylor’s vigorous ability and progressive spirit.
George Wright & Co, Billiard Table Manufacturers, Westminster Bridge Rd – During the time it has been in existence, this notable firm has led the way in inventions and improvements, thereby extending and improving the popularity of the game of billiards as a universal pastime for gentlemen.
Whittard, Crisp & Co, Leather & Hide Factory, Market St, Bermondsey – This is a house that occupies a very prominent position in the factoring trade of Bermondsey, and its name and commercial principles are well known and highly esteemed by a widespread circle of valuable connections.
Thorley & Co, Cattle Food Manufacturers, Caledonian Rd, Kings Cross – Thorley’s Cattle Food is the first production of its kind to achieve a recognised position among agriculturalists and must be regarded as one of the great discoveries of a period that has been particularly prolific in great inventions.
P B Cow & Co, Patentees & Manufacturers of India Rubber & Waterproof Fabrics, Cheapside – It is now about forty years since Mr Peter Brusey Cow succeeded Mr Mackintosh, the inventor of the remarkable waterproof garment, in the control of this gigantic commercial concern.
W Walker & Sons, Cabinet Manufacturers, Bunhill Row – The history of the firm dates back to 1848 when the concern was founded by Mr W Walker and during the whole of the forty years that has elapsed since then the growth of the business has been continuous. A visit to their superb showrooms in Bunhill Row will reveal the very acme of artistic achievement in this branch of the industry.
W H Willcox & Co, Manufacturers & Merchants in Engineers’, Mill & Railway Furnishings & Supplies, Southwark St – Founded fifteen years ago by Walter Henry Willcox, the firm are in a position to supply everything in the way of engineers’ requisites – from a bolt to a steam engine.
Robert Adams, Patentee, Manufacturer & Specialist in Improved Builders’ Ironmongery & Building Appliances, Newington Causeway – The business in question was established in 1870 and has acquired the most eminent reputation in the special departments of mechanical industry and hardware supply to which its undertakings apertain.
W Wilfred Head & Mark, News & General Printers, Lithographers & Engravers, Fleet Lane, Old Bailey – This eminent firm was founded upward of a quarter of a century ago and carried on business in Johnson’s Court, Fleet St, taking the name ‘Dr Johnson Press’ which it still retains and under which it is widely known in the printing world.
Avern, Sons & Barris, Cork Merchants & Manufacturers, Minories – One of the principal house engaged in the great London Cork Trade, their corks obtained a medal in Paris in 1878 and find favour with bottlers all over the world.
Conrad W Schmidt, Varnish Manufacturer, Carpenters Rd, Stratford – There is probably no larger firm of varnish manufacturers in the United Kingdom or, for that matter, anywhere than that of Mr Conrad W Schmidt.
Grovers & Rockley, Musical Instrument Warehouse, The Grove, Stratford – This is the only establishment in the East End that embraces all departments in connection with the musical instrument trade. It was founded in the Kingsland Rd many years ago and was long since removed to its present location.
John Burgess & Son, Italian Warehousemen, Strand – Nowhere in London is the art of conservation, as practically applied to the preserving of certain classes of comestibles, more perfectly exemplified in some of its higher forms than at this famous old establishment at the corner of Savoy Steps.
Samuel Haskins & Brothers, Engineers, Manufacturers of Shop Fronts, Revolving Shutters Etc, Old St – This eminently reputed house originated in the year 1784 under the auspices of the grandfather of the present principals and has been conducted uninterrupted from that day to this by members of its founder’s family.
S E Norris & Co, Curriers, Leather Merchants, Belting Manufacturers, Shadwell High St & St Paul’s Works – This notable concern is one of the oldest in the trade and first came into especial prominence as far back as 1775, and, in the character and quality of their curried leather, this firm takes rank with the first in the kingdom.
Images courtesy Bishopsgate Institute
In Search Of Roman London
Click here to book for my last Spitalfields tour of the year
Roman London is still under construction
From Spitalfields, you have only to walk down Bishopsgate to find yourself in Londinium, since the line of Bishopsgate St follows that of Ermine St which was the major Roman road north from London Bridge. Tombs once lined the path as it approached the City, just as they did along the Appian Way in Rome.
The essential plan of the City of London was laid out by the Romans when they built their wall around Londinium at the end of the second century, after Boudica and her tribes burnt the settlement. Eighty years earlier, the Romans had constructed a fort where the Barbican stands today and, in their defensive plan, they extended its walls south to the Thames and in an easterly arc that met the river where the Tower of London stands now.
A fine eighteenth century statue of the Emperor Trajan touts to the tourists at Tower Hill, drawing their attention to the impressive stretch of wall that survives there, striped by the characteristic Roman feature of courses of red clay tiles, inserted between layers of shaped Kentish Ragstone to ensure that the wall would be consistently level.
Just fifty yards from here at Cooper’s Row, round the back of a hotel, is an equally spectacular stretch of wall that is off the tourist trail. Here you can see the marks of former staircases and medieval windows cut through to create a rugged monument of significant height.
Yet, in the mile between here and the Barbican, very little has survived from the centuries in which stone from the wall was pillaged for other buildings. It is possible to seek access to some corporate premises with lone fragments marooned in the basement, but instead I decided to walk over to All Hallows by the Tower which has a little museum of great charisma in its crypt. Here is part of the tessellated floor of a Roman dwelling of the second century and Captain Lowther’s splendid model of Roman London from 1928.
At the Barbican, a stretch of wall that was once part of the Roman fort is visible, punctuated by a string of monumental bastions which are currently under restoration. Walking up from St Paul’s, you come across the wall in Noble St first, still encrusted with the bricks of the buildings within which it was once embedded. Then you arrive at London Wall, an avenue of gleaming towers lining a windy boulevard of fast-moving traffic, which takes it name from the ancient edifice.
I was lucky enough to be permitted access to a secret concrete bunker, beneath the road surface yet above the level of the underground car park. Here was one of the gateways of Roman London and I saw where the wooden gate posts had worn grooves into the stone that supported them. At last, I could enter Roman London. In that underground room, I walked across the few metres of gravel chips that now cover the ground level of the former roadway between the gate posts, where the chariots passed through. Long ago, I should have been trampled by the traffic if I had stood there, just as I should be mown down if I stood in London Wall today. We switched out the light and locked the door on Roman London to emerge into the daylight again.
In the gardens of the Barbican, the presence of foliage and grass permits the bastions of the City wall to assert themselves, standing apart from the contemporary built environment that surrounds them. From here, I turned west to visit the cloister of St Vedast in Foster Lane, which has an intriguing panel of a tessellated floor mounted in a frame, and St Bride’s in Fleet St, where deep in the crypt, you can lean over a wall to see the floor of the Roman dwelling that once stood there, reflected in a mirror. The reality of these items stirs the imagination just as their fragmentary nature challenges it to envisage such a remote world.
By now, it was late afternoon. I was weary and the sunshine had faded, and it was time to make tracks quickly back to Spitalfields as the sky clouded over – yet I was inspired by my brief Roman holiday in London.
Eighteenth century bronze statue of Trajan at Tower Hill
Model of Roman London in the crypt of All Hallows by the Tower. Made by Captain Lowther in 1928, it shows London Bridge AD 400 – Spitalfields appears as a settlement of Britons beyond the wall.
Roman City Wall at Tower Hill
At Tower Hill
At Cooper’s Row
Lines of red clay tiles were inserted between the blocks of stone to keep the wall level
Tessellated floor in the crypt of All Hallows by the Tower
Timber from a Roman wharf preserved in the porch of St Magnus the Martyr
In the cloister of St Vedast Alias Foster
In the crypt of St Bride’s, Fleet St
Foundation of a Roman Guard Tower in Noble St
Outside 1 London Wall
Part of the entrance gate to Roman London in the underground chamber
Model of the north west entrance to Roman London
A fragment of wall in the underground chamber
Bastion at London Wall
You might also like to read
The Gentle Author’s Pub Crawl
Click here to book for my last Spitalfields tour of the year
Feeling in need of exercise and refreshment, I set out on a walk to visit some favourite pubs along the way and I took my camera with me too.
Mitre Taven, Hatton Garden, opened 1546
George & Vulture, City of London, opened 1600
Bust of Dickens in the dining room at the George & Vulture
Jamaica Wine House, City of London, opened 1660
The Blackfriar, Blackfriars, opened 1905
The Old Bell, Fleet St, opened in the sixteen-seventies
The Punch Tavern, Fleet St, opened 1839
Old Cheshire Cheese, Wine Office Court, opened 1538
Ship Tavern, Gate St, opened 1549
Cittie of Yorke, Holborn, opened 1696
Seven Stars, Carey St, opened 1602
The Lamb & Flag, Rose St, opened 1623
At the Lamb & Flag
The Anchor, Bankside, where Samuel Pepys watched the Fire of London
The George, Borough High St, opened in the fourteenth century
You may also like to look at
Planting Diaries
Click here to book for my last Spitalfields tour of the year
I am proud to present these extracts from PLANTING DIARIES, Gardens, planting styles and their origins by Siân Rees, a graduate of my blog writing course who has been publishing regularly for more than six years.
I am now taking bookings for the next writing course, HOW TO WRITE A BLOG THAT PEOPLE WILL WANT TO READ on November 25th & 26th.
Come to Spitalfields and spend a weekend with me in an eighteenth century weaver’s house in Fournier St, enjoy delicious lunches and eat cakes baked to historic recipes, all catered by Townhouse, and learn how to write your own blog.
If you are graduate of my course and you would like me to feature your blog, please drop me a line.
This plate showing a bright crimson ‘Picta Perfecta’ dahlia, with its beautifully shaped petals edged in black, was first published in The Floricultural Cabinet and Florist’s Magazine in 1835. Launched in 1833 by Joseph Harrison, a gardener and florist, his magazine reflects the appetite amongst amateur and professional gardeners alike for the cultivation of dahlias for show.
In the eighteen-thirties, dahlias were enormously popular garden and exhibition flowers, loved for their jewel colours, abundance of blooms and long flowering season. Starting in July, dahlia shows took place at regular intervals through the summer and early autumn. Harrison visited floral exhibitions all over the country, many hosted by newly formed horticultural societies, and published his accounts of these in the magazine.
Today his accounts give us valuable insights into the character and atmosphere of these shows. Dahlia shows ranged from those staged in public houses, such as the Baker’s Arms in Hackney Road, East London, and the Bull and Mouth Inn in Sheffield, to large exhibitions attracting huge crowds, such as the Metropolitan Society’s Grand Dahlia Show at Vauxhall Gardens in London. Many of the shows hosted dinners for members after the prizes had been given out, and some enjoyed dancing, and music from brass bands. Whatever their size, all the shows were united by appreciation for the dahlia and the spirit of competition.
Harrison’s attendance at these shows allowed him to meet the horticulturalists producing new dahlias, giving him an important overview of dahlia cultivation in England and contacts in the wider horticultural industry. He soon established himself as an influential voice informing taste and trends in gardening through his magazine, in much the same way horticultural journalists and garden designers do today.
With a format that gave advice on growing techniques from expert growers and seed and bulb suppliers, the magazine also encouraged amateurs to write in with questions and their own gardening tips. The Floricultural Cabinet was an instant success, boasting sales of 50,000 copies in 1833, its first year of publication.
Harrison appears to have understood the power of attractive colour images as a marketing tool to inspire readers to purchase his magazine, and the new plants he showcased. The dahlias in the coloured plates are accomplished artworks, portraying the flowers with accuracy and with a slightly naïve quality in the diagrammatic stylisation of the flowers. The ‘Picta Perfecta’ dahlia, praised in The Floricultural Cabinet for its perfectly round form and spectacular colours, was in fact a seeding raised by Harrison.
Harrison was meticulous in recording the names of prize winning dahlias as well as those of the judges and entrants. From his records, certain grower’s names re-appear, such as Mr Pamplin, a florist who lived in Islington, and raised the beautiful golden yellow dahlia ‘Pamplin’s Bloomsbury’ which was illustrated in the magazine.
Joseph Harrison (1798 – 1856) was born in Sheffield where his father worked as head gardener at nearby Wortley Hall, a position Joseph took over in 1828. He left Wortley Hall in 1837, setting up as a florist in Downham, Norfolk and eventually moving to Richmond, Surrey. As well as The Floricultural Cabinet, Harrison also edited The Gardener’s Record.
While they are an important part of our horticultural history, flower shows are by their nature ephemeral events. The plants, the exhibitors, and in some cases, even the venues where the shows took place are now long gone, but they live on in Harrison’s vivid descriptions.
Here follow extracts from The Floricultural Cabinet of three contrasting dahlia shows, documented by Harrison during his country wide tour of 1835. They start with the East London Dahlia Show, a small and well established local event with sixty stands of flowers on display. At the opposite end of the scale, Harrison is clearly captivated by The Bath Royal Flora and Horticultural Society’s Grand Annual Dahlia Show. Its decorations included an extraordinary figure of a Mexican chief made out of dahlias, to celebrate the country where the plant originated. But later in the season, Bath is topped by The Cambridge Florists’ Society Dahlia Show, with its model of a hot air balloon constructed out of 2,300 dahlia blooms and arranged around a chandelier:
The East London Dahlia Show
‘This exhibition took place, as usual, at the Bakers’ Arms, Hackney-road, and was well attended. Sixty stands of flowers were placed in competition, and the judges, Messrs, Alexander, Catleugh, and Glenny, placed them as follow :—
Stands of Twelve Blooms.—1, Mr. Dandy; 2, Mr. Crowder; 3, Mr. Rowlett; 4, Mr. Wade; 5, Mr. James; .6, Mr. Turner; 7, Mr. Dunn; 8, Mr. Williams; 9, Mr. Brown; 10, Mr. Riley; 11, Mr. Sharp; 12, Mr. Hogarth; 13, Mr. Green; 14, Mr. Buckmaster.
Stands of Six Blooms.—1, Mr. Williams; 2, Mr. Thornhill; 3,My. Dandy; 4, Mr. Crowder; 5, Mr, Wade; 6, Mr, Hogarth; 7, Mr, Dunn; 8, Mr, Carp
Sadly this pub that once stood at the corner of Warner Place and Hackney Road is now demolished.
The Bath Royal Flora and Horticultural Society’s Grand Annual Dahlia Show
‘The committee made extraordinary exertions to render this show the most splendid and attractive of the whole season, and they fully realized their purpose. The first object which met the view was a most singular figure on the right-hand lawn: it was that of a Mexican chief, holding a basket of flowers; the whole figure was composed of Dahlias, which, as our readers well know, came originally from that country ; and difficult as the task must have been, even the features of the countenance were very ingeniously delineated. This figure exhibited no less than 150 varieties of the Dahlia, in every imaginable tint, and of every gradation of size. A little beyond was the figure of a tree of considerable size, the trunk and every branch being composed of Dahlias of an equal number of varieties, and in the colour and size of the flowers.’
The Cambridge Florists’ Society
‘This Society had their grand Autumnal Show of Dahlias on Thursday, Sept. 24th, in the Assembly room at the Hoop Hotel. We have witnessed many floral exhibitions here and at other places, but we never before beheld any thing approaching the beauty and magnificence of this exhibition; on no previous occasion was the Dahlia exhibited in so high a state of excellence. We may expect to see great additions made to the colours and varieties of this very beautiful flower, but we much doubt if ever the grand stand of prize flowers displayed on this occasion will be surpassed in size or quality by that of any future show. The task of decorating the room was entrusted to Mr. Edward Catling, florist, of Cambridge; and nothing could possibly exceed the happy and elegant taste with which every ornament was executed. The sides and ends of the room were beautifully decorated with evergreens, wreaths, and Dahlias. At the head of the grand stand was an immense orange tree thickly studded with Dahlias, to represent the fruit in its various stages of growth, backed by a beautiful Fuchsia multiflora, 12 feet high, from the Botanic Garden. At the end of the room, was a prettily variegated crown entirely composed of Dahlias. But the grand attraction of all was a splendid balloon, wholly formed of Dahlia-blooms, suspended from the ceiling, the car of which appeared to be illuminated, from being placed over a gas chandelier. This ariel machine had a striking effect, the flowers being arranged in stripes to represent variegated silk; and we were told that more than 2,300 Dahlias were required to complete the balloon, exclusive of the car, from which two flags were pendent.—The afternoon show was attended by a numerous and respectable company; but the evening exhibition was crowded beyond all former precedent, owing to its being on the eve of the horse-fair, which gave the neighbouring country people an opportunity of witnessing the finest display of Dahlias ever seen in Cambridge. Upwards of 700 well-dressed persons were in the room at one time, and from eight to half-past nine o’clock the number amounted to little, if any, short of 3,000 persons, all with happy countenances, highly delighted with the fairy scene ; added to which were the musical strains of the Cambridge Military Band, who played several new and difficult pieces, with a precision and taste that would have done credit to veteran performers. After the ladies had withdrawn, more than 200 members and their friends sat down, with the splendid flowers before them, and enjoyed the scene with music, song, and toast. Fifteen new members were elected, and we rejoice to learn that the Society meets with the well-merited support of all classes.’
Levick’s Beauty of Sheffield
The Floricultural Cabinet
Brown’s Royal Adelaide
The Floricultural Cabinet
Harris’s Acme of Perfection
The Floricultural Cabinet
Harris’s Inimitable Dahlia
The Floricultural Cabinet
Dodd’s Mary
The Floricultural Cabinet
Barratt’s Vicar of Wakefield
The Floricultural Cabinet
Cox’s Yellow Defiance
The Floricultural Cabinet
Pamplin’s Bloomsbury
The Floricultural Cabinet
Harrison’s Charles XII
The Floricultural Cabinet
Images courtesy Natural History Museum
You might also like to read
