Last week I promised to write more about the charming London Canal Museum so here we go.
The ground floor is an atmospheric gallery of large exhibits on the two themes of the museum, the canals and the ice trade …
The 1960 Wickham tractor is a rare survivor of a what was a common sight in the 1960s in London. Miniature tractors like this took over from horses to tow unpowered barges around the capital …
The narrowboat Coronis dominates the ground floor …
You can go inside and imagine what it must have been like living in a tiny cabin with the whole family …
The cupboards open up to make a bed and a table …
An extraordinarily successful entrepreneur, Carlo Gatti built a large ice warehouse capable of storing tons of ice in two large ice wells, and this is the building that is now the museum. He began importing ice from Norway from around 1860, shipping the ice from that country up the Thames then transferring it to canal barges at the Regent’s Canal Dock and then via the canal to here. Starting with a single ice well in 1857, he built a second ice well around 1862 and became the largest ice importer in London. He is credited with being the first to make ice cream available to the general public.
The ice well today (show people a well and they can’t resist throwing coins into it!) …
‘Stop me and buy one’ …
The man himself …
… and the lovely little glass cups that the ice cream was sold in along with some pretty moulds …
Going upstairs to what was once the stable for ice cart horses …
The horse ramp …
… and Dobbin in his stall ..
Horsey paraphernalia …
Lots of really informative panels …
My favourite notice, prohibiting ‘THROWING LIVE OR DEAD ANIMALS INTO THE CANAL’ …
I was absolutely fascinated by the films being shown upstairs detailing life on the canals in 1924 and 1947. Here are a few stills, the moving images on the screen are much clearer and sharper so my pictures don’t really do them justice …
Note the advertisement for ‘cheapest and best funeral furnisher’ and the lock-keeper with the cottage that came with the job.
Here the bargee’s wife is in charge …
The commentary does tend to be a bit patronising!
It’s a wonderful little museum – in my view worth visiting just to watch the films. You’ll find more about it here.
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I had a great time last week visiting the Secret Maps exhibition at the British Library.
The introductory message tells us that maps have always been more than just tools for navigation – in the hands of governments, groups and individuals, maps create and control knowledge. In Secret Maps, exhibits trace the levels of power, coercion and secrecy that lie behind maps from the 14th century to the present day, and uncover the invisible forces that draw and distort the world around us. There is plenty to see, so the blog today will only give you a brief sample of the extraordinary items on display.
This bra and knickers set was made for Lady Mountbatten. They consist of Second World War escape maps – classified tools for evading enemy capture …
Printed on silk for durability, these maps became surplus when secrecy was no longer critical.
The Secret Book of Secrets, from around 1326, a copy made for the future Edward III …
Rulers with access to this ‘secret knowledge’ would be able to navigate the impact of the planets and predict events.
Liber Secretorum Fidelium Crusis, around 1325 …
The ‘Book of Secrets for Faithful Crusaders on the Recovery and Retention of the Holy Land’ was produced by Venetian nobleman Marino Sanudo to persuade the Pope to sanction a crusade.
Scotland 1457. This map was drawn in an attempt to convince the English king to invade Scotland. It was the work of English chronicler John Hardyng, who had spent three years as a spy in Scotland …
The map is drawn with west at the top and is rich with information on rivers, forests, and strongholds (including Edinburgh, the large red castle, lower left).
Africa, 1558 …
Le Maire Strait, 1621 …
Spy letter, 1683 …
The map of Huningue referred to in the label …
Northern France, 1916. During the First World War, millions of maps were produced of Belgium and France on the Western Front, often omitting trench systems for security …
This British map, however, produced for the Somme offensive of 1 July 1916, includes British trenches in blue. Such maps were only available to commanders well behind the front line.
London, 1940, The German Luftwaffe produced this bombing target map of central London during the Blitz campaign of the Second World War. They marked it ‘Geheim’ (secret). The targets, numbered in red, included key sites such as the War Office, the Admiralty and other government buildings …
In the top left corner of the map, the area labelled ‘Neutrale Botschaften’ (neutral embassies etc.) acts as a warning to pilots not to bomb these locations.
Normandy 1944. ‘Bogus’ maps featuring false place names allowed troops to familiarise themselves with planned invasion areas without revealing their true locations …
As a result, this bogus map needed no security classification. ‘Rugger’ is in fact Pegasus Bridge, an iconic structure over the Caen Canal captured early on D-Day by British forces after a daring night-time glider assault.
British India, 1946 …
The above are just a few examples of the wonderful, fascinating exhibits on display. You can book a ticket here.
Firstly, another really interesting visit to the Heritage Gallery, housed in the same building as the Guildhall Art Gallery.
Stretching from the suburbs of East London to Epping in Essex, Epping Forest offers nearly 6,000 acres of ancient woodland and open heath for recreation, conservation, and enjoyment. I like this old map I found from about 100 years ago (not on display at the exhibition) …
The land has a long and layered history shaped by royal privilege, commoning traditions, and conservation efforts. Its roots go back to at least the early Middle Ages, when the area formed part of the vast Forest of Essex, a legally defined royal forest subject to forest law. These laws were designed not simply to protect trees, but to safeguard game animals, particularly deer, for royal hunting. From the Norman period, successive monarchs used it for sport and prestige.
From the thirteenth century onward, local people asserted customary rights such as grazing, collecting firewood, and foraging, contributing to a distinctive woodland landscape of pollarded trees and open glades. These traditions helped preserve the forest, even as other woodlands across England were cleared for agriculture.
By the nineteenth century, however, pressures from enclosure and private development threatened to fragment the forest. A crucial turning point came with the Epping Forest Act of 1878, championed by the City of London Corporation. The act ended enclosure, protected commoners’ rights, and placed the forest under the Corporation’s stewardship. Today, Epping Forest remains a rare ancient woodland, valued both for its biodiversity and its cultural heritage. On display at the Heritage Gallery are a selection of items showcasing this rich history.
The map on display …
It was drawn by local surveyor William D’Oyley and shows the boundaries and ownership of land in Epping Forest as reached by 1876. Oriented with west at the top, it highlights areas unlawfully enclosed. D’Oyley was appointed as the forest’s first (if temporary) Superintendent.
Queen Victoria visited Epping Forest in 1882 and formally dedicated it ‘to the use and enjoyment of my people for all time’. A decorative invitation to the event is on display along with one commemorating a visit by the Lord Mayor …
Management of the forest was entrusted by the City to the Superintendent and his team of Forest Keepers who enforced bye-laws, supported conservation efforts and enabled visitor access.
The keepers kept daily diaries to record patrols, seasonal changes and incidents. An example from 1903 is on display which describes the apprehension of a man with a catapult who is duly hauled off to the police station …
There is a 1912 report by Forest Keeper Sidney Butt concerning illegal bird trapping …
Seen in the photograph above, Sidney joined the service in 1894, following in the footsteps of his father who had been one of the original Keepers of 1876. A Forest Keeper until 1938, Sidney emboied the dedication of those who cared for the forest.
Uniforms such as the one in the photograph were a point of pride and discipline for Keepers while everyday attire had to be robust and practical for regular woodland patrols.
I like this correspondence from clothes outfitters Hyam & Co Limited regarding Forest Keeper Mutch who, between 1892 and 1894 had ‘got very much stouter’ …
There’s a section on visiting the forest …
… and some fascinating signage with a detailed background history …
It’s a terrific little exhibition and it’s always a pleasure to visit the Guildhall Art Gallery as well. Entry is free as are the regular, informative guided tours. You can also visit the beautiful works by Evelyn De Morgan but hurry because the event closes on 4th January next year. You can read more about it here.
There are also lots of nice things for sale in the Gallery shop. That little book in the middle of the top shelf looks interesting!
Finally, some sad news. Last week I was privileged to attend the launch of Gillian Tindall’s book Journal of a Man Unknown at Hatchards, Piccadilly. Gillian died on 1st October but, although tinged with sadness, it was also a joyous occasion with a speech by Colin Thubron and a reading from her novel. Click here for the eulogy which Thubron read at her memorial gathering held at Cecil Sharp House in Regent’s Park on Friday last week. Click here for her obituary in The Guardian newspaper.
If you have not read anything by Gillian before you are in for a treat. May I suggest two of my favourites: The House by the Thames and The Tunnel Through Time. She was also a regular guest author of Spitalfields Life and you can read one of her contributions (on the history of the underground railway) here.
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