I adore historic houses; there is nothing I love more than having a spare couple of hours to delve into the histories of unique country manors, town houses or the small yet powerful dwellings of previous earthly occupants. I’ve visited a variety of houses around Yorkshire – a lot on numerous occasions – yet I was ashamed to have not visited Castle Howard in my adult memory. I had a spare weekend and decided to take the rural and scenic route to the Howardian Hills to visit Castle Howard at Christmas. The overall theme of the house and grounds is The Twelve Days of Christmas, with each room of the spacious, yet intimate, building representing each day of festivities.
I must be honest; I am not overly impressed by modern installations in historic spaces. I’ve seen some amazing ones – and I’ve also seen some average and confusing ones. Museum galleries and creative exhibitions do an amazing job of innovative designs, from audio, projections and interactive mediums yet for me, historic houses are like a freeze frame – they contain and reflect the cultural tastes, values and the stories of the inhabitants of a specific time and I feel that sometimes modern installations alongside authentic spaces sometimes loses that feel.
Castle Howard is an exception to this – the Christmas installation is honestly one of the most amazing and innovative designs I have ever seen. While each room represents a particular Christmas day of the song they also carry an individual theme. A masquerade theme embellished with feathers lies in the first bedroom while one dining room depicts a scene perfect for the sugar plum fairy. Yet each space is linked by a combination of traditional and original Christmas décor which illuminates the space without losing any of its everyday charm.
Studies of witchcraft often centre on groups of witches or spirits, the Salem witch trials, the Pendle and Samlesbury witches or even the Loudun possessions in 17th century France. Persecution and superstition of witchcraft began to fade towards the end of the 18th century, yet the concept of spirits and possession which were often associated with witchcraft began to be overruled by notions of deviation, criminality and manipulation. One example of individual witchcraft is the extraordinary life of the “Yorkshire Witch”, the creator of “The Prophet of Leeds Hen Hoax”, the serial thief and convicted murderer of Rebecca Perigo.
I became fascinated by the life of Mary Bateman after unintentionally visiting key places of her life. I’d spent my childhood driving past her childhood village, I volunteered in the place of her incarceration and death (now a museum) and I worked in a place where her skeleton was displayed until 2016 (however, I never sawit) Mary Bateman is well known in Leeds; her story, classification as a witch and reasons for her choices continue to be debated in the 21st century.
Mary Bateman was born Mary Harker in Asenby, near Thirsk, North Yorkshire and was baptised in Topcliffe, a nearby village in 1768. She was the third child of six children and is stated to have been a part of a well-respected farming family.
Little is known about Mary’s family or childhood events. Her exact birthdate and baptism was not recorded; the implication of neglect or lack of importance for her arrival can be considered a foreshadowing of Mary’s later endeavours. Biographies of Mary’s life state she spent time with travellers on their visits to rural North Yorkshire; they taught Mary the art of fortune telling. Mary is also described as being a troublesome child, often recorded as a liar, a thief, manipulative and lacking empathy. At the age of 9 Mary stole and hid a pair of shoes at her home later claiming she had found them in a barn.
In order to stabilise her juvenile, villainous character she was sent away and placed into domestic work at the age of thirteen. She was employed within a number of houses around Thirsk but excused under “suspicious circumstances.” She later moved to York and finally to Leeds in 1788. Mary became a skilled mantuamaker and had a quick courtship and marriage to John Bateman. It was soon after she was married that the earlier tendencies as a thief intensified; she stole money and silver from lodgers, material from draper shops and sold on her husbands own possessions!
Mary Bateman also claimed to have supernatural abilities and witchcraft tendencies, conducting fortune telling and selling charms for a number of purposes such as miraculous healing and helping poor.
However Mary was fundamentally a trickster, her ulterior motives for her supernatural claims was to deceive, to rob, to kill. She was never arrested or tried for witchcraft, her infamous nickname “The Yorkshire Witch” emerged in 1806, the year of her infamous Prophet Hen hoax. The nickname was exaggerated the next year, in which she was arrested and tried for the murder of Rebecca Perigo. Pamphlets, broadsides and word of mouth instilled Mary’s position of an alleged witch; her victims, the spectators and even doctors became curious and superstitious about Mary’s character. Thousands flocked to see her execution at the New Drop, York, convinced that her supernatural abilities would allow her to vanish from the drop at the final moments.
Mary utilised her “skills” of fortune telling and charms to manipulate the public. Her first recorded “scam” had a Mrs Greenwood as the victim and included “Mrs Moore”, a figment of Mary’s imagination (later replaced by a more wicked figment, Mrs Blythe.)
“Mary attempted to persuade that she, Mrs Greenwood, was in danger of domestic misfortunes of committing suicide and that her skill would be necessary to prevent so dire a catastrophe. Next she informed her that her husband, who was away from home, was taken up for some offence and placed in confinement and that four men were sent to watch him.”
Mary claimed that “four pieces of gold, four pieces of leather, four pieces of blotting paper and four brass screws” were needed instantaneously so Mrs Moore could “screw down the guards “ surrounding Mrs Greenwood’s husband. On this occasion Mrs Greenwood claimed she had no gold and on Mary’s suggestion she ‘robbed’ gold, Mrs Greenwood distanced herself from Mary’s devious intentions.
Mary can be perceived as adapting and ‘perfecting’ her rituals of charms, telling her victims to stitch particular objects into bedcovers which would then disappear as a result of their protection (in reality, Mary was snatching possessions for her own gain) Letters sent by “Mrs Blythe”, the wise woman in charge who was based in Scarborough, were instructed to be burnt when read by the victims – in order to stop the tracing of Mary’s impact and presence.
Generally the public were both mesmerised and manipulated by Mary’s claims and she was often recommended and called upon for help. The Perigos, William and Rebecca, contacted Mary and “Mrs Blythe” after they feared that Rebecca had become possessed. Rebecca was struggling both physically and mentally, complaining of a “fluttering in the breast” and being “haunted by a black dog and other spirits.” Following the process of sewing money into bedsheets, Mrs Blythe then recommended a potion.
“The letter predicted an illness in the Perigo house affecting one or both of them. It instructed Rebecca to take half a pound of honey to Mary who would mix into some special medicine that Mrs Blythe had made. The Perigos were to eat puddings for six days.”
Rebecca died on the 24th May 1807 from poisoning. Investigations into the honey consumed states that it contained a fatal dose of mercuric chloride. William remarkably survived which foiled Mary’s overall plan. He became suspicious of Mary, going against the the instruction to burn letters and planned a final meeting with Mary, bringing along a Constable who was given the evidence. Mary was arrested and sent to the Yorkshire Assizes. She was hanged in March 1809.
Mary’s crimes and persona had a significant impact on medicine and the public even after her death.
Firstly, her body was taken from York and transported to medical facilities in Leeds – a rare outcome as hanged bodies were normally kept in the area of execution. Murderers and other felons were to be dissected and used for medical purposes rather than a burial which was the case for Mary. However her skeleton was kept intact and put on public display. (This earnt a large amount of money for the hospital through fascination of a “witches” body)
Secondly, her skin was stripped and made into leather pouches, claiming to be magic charms to discourage further evil spirits. At this point in history the medical profession was influenced by the empirical sciences, the perceptions of dissecting a body enabled physicians to know the body logically and physically. These factors, the treatment, display and use of Mary’s body demonstrate the power of superstitious beliefs alongside 18th century ‘science.’ Mary’s skeleton, which is still preserved today, lies within a teaching hospital – yet continues to be predominately known as the “Yorkshire witch”, Mary’s story being the dominant force rather than its medical purpose.
Mary’s confession and copies of her letters to the Perigos can be found within the following sources and bibliography.
Anonymous, The Extraordinary life and character of Mary Batemann, The Yorkshire Witch: Traced from the earliest thefts of her infancy, etc. till her execution on the 20th March, 1809. (12th Edition, Leeds, 1811)
The title for this post is an amalgamation of one of my favourite novels (a text set in York, it’s by Kate Atkinson, you need to read it) and one of my recent museum projects. The purpose of this post is fundamentally the latter; I just needed to use the pun…
I’ve been behind the scenes at the Thackray Medical Museum in Leeds doing some curatorial volunteering (as well as helping out in the galleries and education centre; the place is so vibrant and amazing) and I found the Medical costume store! Medical items – nurse uniforms, patient gowns, restraint jackets, capes (so many capes) and much more – ranging from the early 19th Century live here. Dress and medicine, my favourite parts of history and I was able to handle them all!
The museum is undergoing major redevelopment and to summarise, the whole of the store needs locating, auditing and transporting to a new place in the museum. I’ve been helping out with organising the costume store, from completing condition checks and placing everything in pretty numerical order. I have gained some great experience of collections management as well as coming across some really fascinating items (and battling ghosts, but that’s another story)
Out of the various nurses and midwifery uniforms the one that caught my eye was a simple straight blue dress; it has three-quarter length sleeves, one pocket and a collar that somewhat lacks in aesthetic value when compared to the traditional white collars of its day. Any ideas what this particular nurse uniform was? It’s dated from the early 1940s and the red initials on the chest state ARP.
It’s an Air Raid Precaution nurse uniform. I’m familiar with the introduction of Air Raid Protections by the government in 1935 and have come across various articles and photographs of Air Raid Wardens, yet there is a lack of scholarship on ARP nurses.
This uniform was donated from a rural location in England suggesting that its wearer was potentially a voluntary ARP nurse, assisting with the war effort if it got to the specific location.
Another aspect I found compelling was to be place the evolution, and innovation, of items past and present physically next to one another. For example, the late 19th Century patient gowns in the collection are inspired by traditional linen night dresses and are embellished with lace and frill. By the 20th century the gowns became more basic in design and could be removed easily. Fast forward to the modern gowns we know today, they are more clinical, practical and temporary. I use the term ‘temporary’ as a reflection of medical developments, namely treatment and recovery time. Early patients were more likely to be within hospitals, or bedridden, for a lengthy time. The traditional and more ‘homely’ gowns reflect aspects of domesticity and normality for the patient and medical standards. This in contrast with the later gowns as patients have speedier and less stints in hospitals as well as the constant turnovers of items such as gowns and bed sheets for patients.
The ability to place, touch and examine these three gowns together creates a better understanding of the history of medicine as well as the triggering of other ideas for future research and exhibitions.
I’ve sorted out the medical wardrobe – now its onto the medical hat collection!
I originally wrote this post two years ago, but recently I had been thinking about the Hedy Lamarr and wanted to do further research into her brilliant mind and life. Coincidentally “Hollywood’s Brightest Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story” was aired on the same day I had thought about Hedy (with no knowledge that the documentary was going to be on) – so I have edited this post a little to add new information learnt about Hedy! – The documentary is fabulous, I suggest you all watch it.
One of my most laughable facts is that my bachelor degree is a BSc – I’m a scientist. A philosophical one. I am secretly proud and smug about my title, mainly because I was terrible at science at school. Back in my final year of my undergrad (it feels so long ago now) I took a module named “Gender, Science and Knowledge”, a super interesting course which put the issue of ‘Women in Science’ at the forefront of discussion.
My thesis for my assessed essay surrounded the traditional concept of ‘rationality’ and knowledge and how, (wrongly) it was associated as an exclusive male trait – a concern as, sadly, it is often reiterated in present day.
Basically it all stems from Ancient Greece; Plato put forward a division between the higher mind and lower body. This was then taken to be a metaphor between the superiority of men and inferiority of women; with intellect corresponding with the masculine mind and the female body acting as a material, means to an end. In sum, women were viewed to not be capable of knowledge or reason as it was a ‘masculine’ domain. I know – ridiculous isn’t it!
In doing my research for this essay, I finally had the confidence to add a little bit of my own style to my essay – incorporating vintage, specifically an alternative perspective of Hollywood “glamour.”
There is no better ‘Woman in Science’ to talk about other than: Hedy Lamarr (Born Hedwig Eva Maria Kiesler, in Austria 1914)
You may recognise Hedy as one of Hollywood’s leading ladies in the 1930s and 40s. Her unique combination of features, the dark hair, pale skin and vibrant red lips became the inspiration for Disney’s Snow White and at age 18, and under her birth name, Hedy Kiesler, she starred in the controversial and erotic film Ecstasy (1933) – which was denounced by Pope Pius XII and banned in America and Germany.
Hedy was considered as the “World’s most beautiful woman”; her stage name being nod to 1920s silent film star Barbara La Marr who was also known as “the girl who is too beautiful.”
Hedy’s physical beauty and her film appearances were what she was known for within the 20th century, an idea which reinstates the traditional concept of women being inferior, a material body, rather than the intellectual mind. It is obvious that Hedy was not enthused about her label of beauty, famously quoting “Any girl can be glamorous. All she has to do is stand still and look stupid.” Hollywood ‘beauty’ can be viewed as a means to an end, as Hedy’s successful acting career peaked in the 1940s with only minimal castings in the 1950s.
You may be reading this post on a Wi-Fi connection, you may use Bluetooth and GPS on a daily basis – without Hedy Lamarr this may not be the case. Hedy’s alternative, and first passion was science; she was a phenomenal inventor, her curious and intellectual mind being well ahead of its time. When acting she also invented; she experimented with chemistry, creating a bouillion cube which formed a soft drink when mixed with water. She also developed ideas of rejuvenation, applying movements of an accordion to tighten and mould the face. Other inventions include elements within traffic lights.
However Hedy’s most prominent invention occurred in the early 1940s. During the war, and alongside her rising acting career, Hedy was secretly involved with the technological developments in the war effort. She worked alongside her friend and fellow inventor, George Antheil and the pair used their scientific knowledge to produce a particular signalling system: The Frequency Hopping Spread Spectrum. This system was to be used in the radios in torpedoes, aiming to interfere with the signals of the enemy – the same techniques used in wireless systems nowadays. Anthiel was a musical composer and utilised his pianist knowledge to change radio frequencies using piano keys while Hedy had gained knowledge of torpedoes from her ex-husband, Frizt Mandl.
Although created and patented in 1942 the device wasn’t implemented until 1962, where it was used in naval ships in the Cold War. Various modern day articles about the invention state that Hedy’s involvement was not recognised until present day, yet the above extract from 1945 depicts Hedy’s explanation of her input to a public audience. Perhaps her involvement was overlooked, or the report within the newspaper manipulated with Hedy’s input being more than a creative consultant and on an equal standing to Antheil.
Hedy appeared to detach her life as an actress with her life as inventor, signing the system’s patent in her married name. (Hedy Markey) Perhaps this was for legal reasons, or to be taken more seriously. (Hher husband was a high ranking Naval Officer, creating a route of access for her invention to enter military ground) A further consideration, and the one I am inclined to agree with, was to remove further stereotypes, namely the typical Hollywood actress and her credit as the World’s most beautiful woman.
Not only are women more than their physical beauty but the technology we use all day everyday and surrounded by constantly – was created by a woman.
Tradition is overturned and we should all strive to do what inspires us, ignoring stereotype. That may not be just one thing but various outlets – such as Hedy’s acting and her inventing!
I have various historical interests and for my MA dissertation I decided to integrate my different interests and academic skills – focusing on the medical effects of dress reform and also putting a philosophical spin on it! The focus of my dissertation was the life and work of Madame Roxey Ann Caplin, a Canadian born writer and corset maker (or stay-maker, as Madame Caplin stated) who worked at 58 Berners Street, London throughout nearly the entire 19th Century. She was born in 1793 and died in Surrey on 2nd August 1888 – her long life was full of innovation, inspiration and individualism.
There are various claims on the internet that Madame Caplin invented the corset. The original purpose of the corset, as a stay and support of weight and to lift the body to avoid deformation harks back to Ancient Greece albeit in a basic sense, a cincture around the waist to support the back and breasts. (A topic which Caplin herself builds upon within her own writings)
Rather than Caplin inventing the corset, she reformed the 19th century ‘contemporary’ corset, which, she claimed, had lost its original purpose and became subject to tight-lacing and ill-constructions due to particular expectations of the female body. Health was compromised and women became oppressed both physically and mentally, the latter becoming internalised by women.
“The elegant form, the flexibility of motion, the gentle warmth, the cheeks crimsoned with the roses of delight, the brilliant eyes darting rays of love, or sparkling with the fire of genius, enlivened by the sallies of wit, or animated by the glow of passion, are the inheritance of those only who are in good health, and a moment is sufficient to destroy them. The whole is expressed in one word,—there is an absence of health.” (Madame Caplin, Health and Beauty, Chapter 11: Health, Dress & Its Relation to Temperaments)
Madame Caplin’s Hygienic Corset (first credited to her husband, Dr Jean Francois Isidore Caplin purely for its medical acknowledgement) was fitted with elastic panels to support key organs from deformation and won the only award for corset-making at the 1851 Great Exhibition. I have been lucky enough to meet this particular corset, a beautiful blue ribbed silk corset with a cream lining. (It measures as a 20 inch waist) The particular colour of the silk corset was for display purposes only, (which provides an answer for its immaculate condition for its age) all of Madame Caplin’s corsets made to buy were either black or white. You can find images of this corset, and another of Caplin’s corsets (A pale blue Petticoat Suspender corset, through the Museum of London’s online site)
Madame Caplin’s success triggered her 24 different designs in total, covering a range of different activities and impact of a woman’s life. This includes juvenile corsets for correct and supported physical development into adulthood, spinal and scapula contractors to treat weakened muscles and bodily forms and Gestation corsets, for safe development of the body during pregnancy.
I first became mesmerised by Madame Caplin during an evening lecture within a fashion gallery at a local museum – her unique name and corsetry designs stuck and I was quick to conduct further research on this interesting historical figure. Madame Caplin was born Emily Ann Pelletier to English born parents and on her arrival to England she was first married to a man with the last name Galloway. (and on early register she had used the name Roxey Ann Galloway) She later met and worked with Dr Caplin, adopting his name and her French title probably to boost her public profile (with French fashion and corsetry dominating Europe) and marrying him at a later date.
I was also quick to access a copy of her monumental book, Health and Beauty: Or Corsets and Clothing. The text details her idea of corsetry reform, her progress and effects of her designs in an eloquent manner, as well as providing insights into her business strategies. The book had numerous editions throughout the 19th century; it was first published in 1856 and was revised over the next decade.
In my opinion, Madame Caplin was more than a 19th century corset maker and writer; she was a visionary, a social reformer, an underappreciated heroine in medicine and modern, medical research. I claimed that Madame Caplin was inspired by the American transcendental movement: she acknowledged and promoted the enlightened female body, its connections with nature and the integral relationship between the spirit of the mind and the spirit of the body. These three factors along the unlocking of new worldly truths and human empowerment were enabled and represented by the reformed corset.
“The head is the treasure-vault of all our thoughts, emotions, sensations, and passions; the thorax contains the heart and lungs; the abdomen all the digestive and secretive organs; and even the orifices are all mysteriously furnished.” (Madame Roxey Ann Caplin, Health and Beauty, Chapter One: Of Health and Beauty)
Previous Research surrounding Madame Caplin tends to take an exclusive reformative dress perspective, her surviving corsets which lie in the Museum of London have constant interest and examination, while there is little in-depth analysis of her literature. This realisation is somewhat ironic. To refer to the introductory paragraph, Madame Caplin is clear on her position on dress and health and her purpose of her literature – which is overlooked by modern research.
Regarding transcendentalism, I claimed that there were subtle philosophical references within the text which connects dress reform, spiritualist ideologies and medical reform – providing new insights into the three domains. Transcendentalism is an individualistic theory, inspiring each member to find their own path and original impacts within the world. Madame Caplin utilised her experience of ill-constructed corsets, her experiences and knowledge to produce her original creation – which was then projected onto others. Her female customers, newspaper reporters and medical professionals all accepted her corsetry designs and therefore, its different spiritual elements and connections.
In connection with an upcoming historical redevelopment, the history team at York Castle Museum recently hosted a series of object “speed dating” events, which introduced the public to a range of unique pieces within the museum’s extensive collection – and only having four minutes to connect the public with the object. I was quick to accept an invitation to help out at one of these events – it was such great fun and full of really enthusiastic attendees with brilliant ideas for redevelopment.
You may think four minutes with one object may be both limiting and overwhelming for the speed dater as the object’s spokesperson had to cover historical context, relevancy to York and social history as well as ‘selling’ the object’s appeal to its audience. However, the sessions sparked instances of passion, amazement and creativity among the visitors, as well as discussions of which stories should be included in future exhibitions at the museum and how visitors would like to see these objects to be displayed. This idea of display has various factors such as whether the object would be behind glass or actually handled by visitors and what particular aspects of the object should be promoted.
The objects within the sessions included souvenirs and keepsakes, including as a “mermaid fish”, an 18th century fan depicting a map of London and items relative to York’s history, including the collar of an “aristocratic” dog who (along with his humans) lived at Heslington Hall, a beautiful manor house which is now part of the University of York.
An object which kindled a lot of curiosity was what first appeared as a small rectangular piece of stone – the object which I was lucky enough to pitch for! Close examination of this miniature stone revealed carvings, different messages and dates. The most clear carvings read: John Linn, 35, Bible, 1848 and the most interesting inscription of all York Castle. York Castle at this point (1848) was a prison, one of the key and most notorious Gaols of the North of England. York Castle Prison held both debtors and felons, a fact which suggests that this object was the creation of a prisoner.
Courtesy of York Museums Trust
19th century prison graffiti was common, it reflected the boredom of prisoners, their emotions and presence within Gaols, their identities etched on the stone walls. However this stone carving is unique: it is not fixed to the prison walls, it is movable and independent. The sides of the small stone are filed and smoothed to form the shape of the Holy book, the reverse side depicts the phrase “This Keep from Me.” The Stone Bible, in great and robust condition, fits in the adult hand securely: it acts as a mark of comfort, hope and religious devotion of a prisoner and their experience within the York gaol.
The intriguing nature of this object fuelled further interest into the story of John Linn, both for visitors and myself. The visitors were mesmerised by this particular object, the fact they were able to handle and read the object generated a lot of empathy and claims of aesthetic appeal for the object. The consensus was that this object should not be located behind glass – it needs to be handled and examined in order to realise and enhance this historical connection, an idea I strongly agree with.
After the session I decided to do further investigations into John Linn, hoping to understand his story and the creation of this object in more detail. Census records and prison registers reveal that Linn was a felon at York Castle; he was a considered a serious criminal and had lesser privileges than debtors who were still able to communicate with the outside world. Linn’s trial was in March 1848 at the York Assizes and his crime and charge was for the offence of Night Poaching. Linn received the maximum punishment written under the Night Poaching Act of 1828: transportation to Tasmania.
Research into Linn’s transportation journey revealed various facts. The first was that he was transported in the year 1850 and therefore spent at least two years within York Castle Prison. With this in mind I consider the Bible to be cherished, not only for his religious devotion, but as the only item of his possession and as possible acknowledgement and redemption for his crime. The second fact was that Linn was transported on the Maria Somes, an exclusive convict ship which had two main voyages to Van Diemen’s Land, Tasmania – one in 1844 and 1850. Linn was one of 256 other convicts on board the ship and departed from Portsmouth. The medical journal of the ship’s physician detailed the diagnosis, progress and deaths of ill passengers. Linn was not listed, suggesting that he survived the voyage with little ill health. However Linn’s further movements in Tasmania or other areas of Australia, at present, remain unknown and I intend to do further investigation.
This miniature stone bible, whether you consider it as a keepsake, a handicraft or graffiti, is fundamentally an embodiment of Linn. It is a living record, reflecting various characteristics of Linn’s identity and life. All the information needed to discover and tell his full story are carved onto the stone; the object illuminates Linn’s presence and permanent connection with York Castle Museum.
Four minutes with an object is enough time to fuel interest in its history and significance from an audience perspective. It ignites curiosity and further research into its formation and story, revealing alternative dimensions to individual narratives and the impact of an objects creation.
How would you like to experience objects in a museum, or what aspects do you look for when you see an object on display?
Medical Journal of the Maria Somes, convict ship from 1 April to 16 August 1850 by J. G. Williams, Surgeon Superintendent, during which time the ship was employed on passage to Hobart Town, Van Diemen’s Land, The National Archives, ADM 101/255/1F
Our crowdfunding campaign with YuStart is live. It has definitely come at a good time, as in the previous blog post we welcomed three wonderful iron presses into our otherwise pretty empty print studio. The main expense, the presses, was covered by generous funding from the university but this new crowdfunding campaign will allow us to buy essentials like paper, type and perhaps even employ a printer to inspire students and help us use our presses to their full potential.
There are some wonderful rewards on offer in exchange for a pledge, so check out the campaign and please take a moment to share the page and spread the word!