Hope in history
I enjoy reading your Letters pages, and Jill Stewart-Rattray’s contribution in June’s edition caught my particular attention. She wrote that “should some worthy academic decide to compile a history of the world excluding all mention of our inhumanity towards each other, it would result in a very slender volume”.
I have good news for Jill: there is such a book, and I’m happy to say it is not a slender read. Entitled Humankind: A Hopeful History, the volume features historical examples in which members of our species have shown a deep care for one another. Rutger Bregman wrote the book to demonstrate that most humans have always been wonderfully supportive of each other. It is the happiest book. I recommend it to anyone who, like Jill, is looking for an uplifting historical summer read, full of examples of human kindness and humour. Kate Hollis, Bromley
Monarchy and magic
I was interested to read the examples of superstitious magic in Helen Hackett’s feature (A Journey into the Elizabethan Mind, June), but expected to see a mention of John Dee, Elizabeth I’s astrologer. Dee was consulted about personal and state matters, including the timing of voyages to the New World. Surely this royal patronage helps to show the “top down” effect of superstition as well as common attitudes?
Juliet O’Brien, Farnborough
Transforming surgery
I thoroughly enjoyed the interview with Lindsey Fitzharris in the July issue (Books Interview) concerning the work done at Queen Mary’s Hospital in Sidcup.
Readers may not realise that performing surgery on the face was particularly challenging at that time, as anaesthesia was conducted using a mask held over the mouth. At the same hospital, two doctors transformed this type of surgery by using rubber tubes inserted into the patient’s trachea, enabling a clear surgical field for the surgeon. The doctors were Ivan Magill and Stanley Rowbotham, pioneers in the emerging discipline of anaesthesia, and their lives are celebrated at the Anaesthesia Heritage Centre in Portland Place, London. Richard Griffiths, consultant anaesthetist, Peterborough and Stamford hospitals
Olympian feats
Peter Murray’s story about the rallying reverend [John Hartley, who won Wimbledon in 1879 and 1880 and served as a North Yorkshire vicar for more than 40 years] in July’s Letters reminded me of some other remarkable sporting achievements.
Andarin Carvajal competed in the men’s marathon at the 1904 St Louis Olympics in ordinary clothes because he didn’t have any shorts. He hadn’t eaten for 40 hours before the event, ate some rotten apples from a roadside orchard during the race and fell ill – but still finished fourth. At the same Olympics, gymnast George Eyser won six medals all in one day, despite having a wooden leg after being run over by a train.
Henry Pearce of Australia was competing in the quarter-finals of the single sculls rowing event at the 1928 Amsterdam Olympics when a line of ducks swam across the water in front of him. Henry stopped to let them pass before carrying on to win the race with 9.8 seconds to spare. He won the gold medal that year and again in LA in 1932. Ian MacDonald, Essex
Social engineering
I was intrigued by the suggestion in your article on [pioneering marine engineer] Victoria Drummond (Amazing Lives, May) that she achieved all she did without patronage. I am in awe of her determination against the horrendous level of discrimination prevalent at the time. However, you quote Drummond, goddaughter of Queen Victoria and born into privilege at Megginch Castle, as saying: “Mummy got me an introduction to the manager of the Caledon Ship Works in Dundee.” Is it not somewhat overstating the case to suggest there was no patronage? Carrie Elliott, Colchester
An overlooked siege
I was surprised that you made no reference in the timeline to Jessie Childs’ feature [on the siege of Basing House, in the June issue] to the 1648 Siege of Colchester. The New Model Army’s siege of the town and the royalist forces trapped inside ran for 77 days, and caused huge damage to the town by bombardment as well as starvation of the unfortunate populace.
With Cromwell’s victory at the battle of Preston on 19 August 1648, it became obvious that there would be no raising of the siege by royalist forces, and Colchester’s defenders finally surrendered on 28 August under very harsh terms. Two commanders, George Lisle and Charles Lucas, were immediately executed, while ordinary soldiers were shipped off to work in plantations in the Caribbean. Clearly parliament wanted to end once and for all the dissembling of King Charles and the threat of more royalist violence, and within five months Charles I would be executed.
The battle for Basing House was important but, compared to this defining moment, it really was a sideshow in the civil war. Jonathan Pearsall, Colchester