WRITING ON THE WALL : GRAFFITI, REBELLION AND THE MAKING OF EIGHTEENTH
CENTURY BRITAIN
By Madeleine Pelling
Profile Books. 333 pages. £25. ISBN 978-80081-199-7
Reviewed by Jim Burns
Graffiti is a word that causes apprehension today, though perhaps for
different reasons than it did in the past. The loose patterns that cover so
many shop-front shutters, walls, and fences, sometimes not without a degree
of artistic merit, but too often being little more than meaningless scrawls,
are often unsightly. They convey nothing beyond the fact that the
perpetrators wanted to make marks of their existence. Was that all someone
writing on a wall in the eighteenth century had in mind? Not if Madeleine
Pelling is to be believed and her entertaining account of why people wrote
on walls, windows, and just about everywhere else, makes a strong case for
accepting thay they often had something else beyond the purely personal to
comment on when they wrote a slogan or even sometimes just a number on a
wall.
It’s true that, then as now, carving one’s name or just initials into a
handy stone or tree did amount to nothing beyond registering the fact that
the writer had “been there and done that”. In this connection it’s worth
noting that people in the past were often no more respectful of historic or
cultural items than they are now. Pelling points to “The English proclivity
for leaving a mark on ancient structures across the world” and notes that a
visitor to Pompey’s pillar in Alexandria in 1849 saw “the names of two
Englishmen – Thompson and Button – carved into the stone”. A little later
the French novelist Gustave Flaubert noticed the names and remarked “There
is no possibility of seeing the column without seeing the name of
Thompson.....This idiot has embodied himself in the monument, and
perpetuated himself with it”.
Pelling’s aim, however, is to show how some graffiti, in the period she’s
concerned with, did often amount to more than an attempt to give a name some
sort of permanency: “Across walls, windows, doorways, wooden panels,
fireplace surrounds, carriage sides, coins, weapons, the margins of books
and many other pliable canvases, Britain’s surfaces glistened and buzzed
with words and symbols put there by its inhabitants”. And she sees them as
“a history of the eighteenth century via the lost voices of those who lived
through it”. Graffiti was
“increasingly the language of the disenfranchised” and “allowed everyone a
voice, albeit often fleeting”.
The social and political turbulence prevalent in the eighteenth century lent
itself to strong passions which were frequently expressed through graffiti.
The educated could express their ideas and desires in print, but in a time
when literacy was not widespread a simple slogan on a wall might suffice to
present a challenge to those in authority. “45” referred to the 45th
issue of John Wilkes’s The North
Briton, published in 1763, a radical journal which, among other things,
“attacked the government and crown for seeking to end the Seven Years War
with France and Spain, believing their failure to press for success a poor
reflection on British global power”. It additionally, “accused those in high
office of harbouring Catholic sympathies”, and being secret supporters of
“the Catholic James II and VII and claims by his descendants to the English
throne”. It has to be remembered that there had been two invasions of
England by Scottish armies, in 1715 and 1745, both of which failed but left
strong memories of plots to reinstate the Stuarts and the Catholic religion.
Wilkes had a powerful following, “drawing huge crowds, exposing aristocratic
scandal, facing arrest and imprisonment and, eventually, betraying his
liberal credentials by leading armed soldiers against British civilians”.
The latter refers to his role during the Gordon Riots in 1780, when “King
Mob” went on the rampage in London and threatened the stability of the city
and the nation as a whole.
Pelling’s account of the Gordon Riots is compelling. They were largely
instigated by Lord George Gordon stirring up the crowds with anti-Catholic
speeches, but they quickly got out of hand and were used as a pretext for
general looting and arson by criminal elements. The Protestant Association,
with Gordon at its head, may have intended only to pressure the Government
into repealing the Catholic Relief Act, which eased the restrictions on
Catholics entering certain professions and owning certain properties. But
the people wanted a quick decision and when they didn’t get it “No Popery”
became the slogan that appeared on walls, windows, and other locations as
the mob moved around London attacking the houses of the high-born, storming
prisons, including Newgate, and freeing those inside, and setting fire to
numerous buildings. There was even an attempt to take over the Bank of
England which was repelled by troops who were by then slowly regaining
control of the streets. Pelling says that by the time the rioting subsided
around 300 people had been killed and many more injured. She refers to
several novels which incorporated the Gordon riots into their stories, one
of them being Charles Dickens’s
Barnaby Rudge. It’s where I first came across them,
when reading Dickens at a young age.
Memories of the Gordon riots episode no doubt re-surfaced in 1789 when news
of the French Revolution reached England, and lords and ladies trembled as
they heard of the arrests and executions of the rich taking place in Paris.
There was a strong anti-monarchy movement and it tied in with other concerns
: “In Manchester, one local magistrate complained how ‘the public eye is
daily saluted with sedition with chalk characters on our walls’ “. And he
added that NO KING introduces the topic, no matter whether it’s “bread or
peace”. In Halifax in 1812 the words, “Vengeance for the blood of the
innocent” were “chalked on local doors in response to the shooting by
soldiers of machine-breaking protestors there weeks before”. In 1817 the
postmaster in Manchester wrote to the Home Office to “warn that, about the
town, the words Be ready – Be steady
– Liberty or death had begun to appear with alarming frequency”. This
was “just months before the infamous Peterloo massacre that saw eighteen
people killed by cavalrymen”. Peterloo occurred in 1819.
Strictly speaking, the events in
Manchester and Halifax lie outside the eighteenth century, some would say,
but the moods and manners of centuries don’t terminate on exact dates. It
could be argued that the “long eighteenth century” only really ended with
the arrival of Victoria on the throne in 1837.
It would be wrong to give the impression that Pelling’s emphasis is solely
on “rebellion”. She covers a wide area of mark making, with, for example,
chapters on the graffiti left by prisoners, both civil and military.
Conditions in any kind of prison in the eighteenth century were sure to be
grim. Money could buy some privileges and extra comforts but most prisoners
were poor and not in a position to be helped by anyone on the outside. I was
reminded of The
Pickwick Papers and Mr Pickwick
coming across Mr Jingle, the strolling player, in prison where he’s sold his
boots and other items to raise money for food. It’s difficult to imagine
what life was like for the French and other prisoners-of-war captured during
the Napoleonic era and confined to the hulks, the old ships used as prisons.
When prisoners effected some graffiti it was usually in the shape of their
names and a few basic details, such as the dates of their incarceration.
There’s a chapter headed The Bog
House Miscellany, about a publication grandly titled,
The Merry Thought; or The Glass
Window and Bog House Miscellany : “Advertised in London’s leading
newspapers, it represented a cacophonous collection of graffiti found across
London’s coffee-houses, taverns, streets and, most unusually, its privies”.
It was, says Pelling, “populated with lively and subversive voices – from
cuckolded husbands to love-lorn apprentices, weary tavern maids to
frustrated scholars.....In its pages, readers recognised some of their own
darkest desires, prejudices and commonalities”. Pelling quotes a few of the
entries : “Here did I lay my Celia down/I got the p-x, and she got half a
Crown”. “Good Lord, who could think,/that such fine Folks should stink?”.
“There’s Nothing foul that we commit,/ But what we write, and what we sh-t”.
I was reminded of a friend of mine who, in the 1960s, had a small poetry
press and decided to publish a little book of rhymes and other items
collected from lavatory walls, back-alleys and similar places. He was
prosecuted and fined for sending indecent material through the post. It
would have been interesting to compare what he printed in his publication to
what appeared in the Bog House
Miscellany In terms of what was considered acceptable then and in the
so-called liberated and “Swinging Sixties”.
Some graffiti surmounts the political or pornographic and tells a personal
story that can touch the heart. The strangest and in its way most moving
account in Writing on the Wall is
the story of James Doe who
committed suicide near Bristol in 1797. He was skilled as a handpainter,
decorating china in the Staffordshire potteries, though affected by the
switch to transfer printing that was beginning to come in.
He moved around, working at various jobs, and at some point lived in
a room in a disused building outside Bristol. When his body was discovered
in the nearby river the local constable, Joseph James, found that Doe had
covered the walls of his room with what amounted to an autobiography. He
copied it carefully and later published it in Bristol. It was then picked up
by the Gentleman’s Magazine,
which had a national circulation, and people who had known Doe at various
times in his lifetime began to contact James with information about him.
Everyone spoke of him positively, saying he was a kind man, a good worker,
and sober in his habits. It was known that he had helped a fellow-worker who
had got into trouble and spent time in prison, and this led to the
identification of someone Doe had referred to as K-s-m in his wall writing.
It seemed that Doe had contacted him some time later when K-s-m had
established himself in business, but the latter appeared to have forgotten
their old friendship and declined to provide Doe with any form of
assistance. On the wall Doe had written, “I forgive him, and am well assured
that what he enjoys is by his merit and industry. Long may he and his
partner in affection live to enjoy the fruits of his labour”.
I’ve given a very abbreviated account of Doe’s life and death, and Pelling
makes it much more meaningful in human terms. It’s a story that, as well as
giving a personal picture of one man’s life that might otherwise have been
forgotten, also provides information about general conditions for those who
could be affected by changing methods in working practices and the
fluctuations in trade. Life for the poor was precarious.
I’ve tried to give a broad view of the contents of
Writing on the Wall, but there is
much more to the book than I can indicate. Pelling neatly relates what was
happening in the streets to what artists were doing, with Hogarth and his
contemporaries sometimes showing people making marks on walls, and even on
the coats of pompous lawyers and the like.
One final thing I’d like to mention is attitudes towards graffiti in
the nineteenth century. According to Pelling, “By the middle of the
nineteenth century...the hold that mark making had over the population was
starting to wane. Its role in rebellion and the often violent and radical
redistribution of power had done it no favours.....Victorian Britons would
reframe it as the impolite scribblings of a dangerous lower order, something
that could threaten the balance of things”. Harrison Ainsworth’s novel,
Jack Sheppard, serialised in
1839/40, and “based on the real-life Georgian highwayman and Newgate escapee
of the same name”, shows him to be “clearly destined for a life of
delinquency from the start thanks, in part, to his relationship with mark
making”. The walls of the slum room he grew up in were covered with
“topsy-turvy sketches of a world upside down; a king crawling on his knees
and the devil ruling over him, men boxing and highwaymen racing on horseback
else hanging from gallows”.
Writing on the Wall
is a book to read and enjoy, but it is also instructive. It takes us back to
a time when they really did do things differently. It makes it colourful but
dangerous, and shows how
authority could so easily be made uneasy by what was scrawled on walls.
People can now express themselves in different ways so mark making on a
window or a wall is no longer necessary. But sometimes a chalked or painted
slogan that still occasionally appears can catch the attention and make one
think about what is and what could be.