55 Days at Peking: The Siege of the Peking Legation Quarter

 

For purposes of continuity, the Chinese capital shall be referred to by its old name of ‘Peking‘ throughout this posting.

Anyone who’s seen the 1963 film “55 Days at Peking”, may think that they know all about the events depicted in this legendary epic, starring such names as David Niven and Charleton Heston. But in actuality, as with most historical films, the details and broader picture of the inspirational event have been swept aside, dulled or diluted in the name of dramatic license.

So what really happened during those fifty five days, and what is the wider picture?

The Events in the Film

55 Days At Peking” is a historical film about the infamous siege of the Foreign Legations in Peking, China, in the year 1900. It is a fictionalised version of a pivotal and groundshaking event in Chinese history.

What really happened? Why were the legations put under siege? What led up to this, and what happened after the siege was lifted? Let’s find out…

China at the Turn of the Century

Chinese history in the 19th century is filled with conflicts and struggles. Two opium wars, foreign invasions and occupations, drug-trafficking, Christian missionaries, Western interventions, humiliating trade and concession-treaties…the list goes on.

Between the legalisation of opium, the opening of the Treaty Ports, and the loss of Hong Kong, China was steadily being carved up by each of the great powers of the world – Great Britain, the United States, France, Germany, Russia, Italy, and the rising power of the Empire of Japan.


This famous French cartoon from the turn of the century depicts China as a great pie being carved up by the foreign powers. From L-R: Queen Victoria (Britain), Kaiser Wilhelm II (Germany), Tsar Nicholas II (Russia), Marianne (France), and the Emperor of Japan. Behind, a Chinese Mandarin looks on in horror as his country’s fate is decided and divided

By the 1890s, the foreign powers have set up enclaves and concession-zones in almost all major Chinese cities. Canton, Shanghai, Tientsin, Nanking, and the ancient imperial capital city of Peking. Each has its own foreign concession-zones held by the Western powers and by the Empire of Japan. In Shanghai, it is the infamous Shanghai International Settlement, which would become notorious for fast living, gambling, drugs, racing, prostitution, gangsters and expensive lifestyles. In Peking, it is the walled citadel of the Peking Legation Quarter, where foreigners live in isolated splendor, immune and untouchable from and by the Chinese who dwell from without their confines.

In previous generations, the idea of “Barbarian” legations, concessions and embassies within China was unthinkable, and certainly not in the ancient Imperial capital of Peking! But China, weakened and humiliated by defeat after defeat, was forced to allow the Western powers to set up their quarters just miles from the Forbidden City, the seat of Chinese imperial power for centuries.

Foreign presences in China were deeply resented. Christian missionaries desecrated Chinese temples and shattered Chinese belief-systems, insulting centuries old traditions and customs. Chinese ports were run by Western merchants, particularly in Shanghai and Canton. Soldiers, marines and guards from all nations were stationed in and around foreign settlements to protect the civilians and diplomats who worked in or near to their concession-zones.

The foreigners enjoyed diplomatic immunity in China – They could not be prosecuted under Chinese law, another injustice which the Chinese were infuriated about. And they imported opium into China, which had previously been illegal. Despite all the stereotypes about doped up Chinks lying on beds huffing away at their pipes, the Chinese themselves had long fought to REMOVE opium from China – it wasn’t even grown there! It came from British India in trade-ships sailing for the foreign-controlled treaty-ports.

The Peking Legation-Quarter

Established in the 1860s after the Second Opium War, the Peking Legation Quarter was originally a hodge-podge of European consulates, legations and embassies, established and built within an area east of Tienanmen Square, partially divided from the rest of Peking by enormous and ancient defensive walls. Over time, it grew and became the heart of foreign, mostly Western life, in the middle of Imperial Peking.


The Peking Legation Quarter, 1912. Click the image for a higher resolution to read the text beneath the map

The Quarter held the embassies and diplomatic missions of many of the most prominent Western powers, along with several smaller ones. Housed within the compound, or on the land immediately outside it, were embassies and legations belonging to…

– The United States.
– The Kingdom of Belgium.
– The French Republic.
– The German Empire.
– The Russian Empire.
– The Japanese Empire.
– The British Empire.
– The Kingdom of Spain.
– The Kingdom of Italy.
– The Austro-Hungarian Empire.
– The Dutch Empire.

Showing the extent of foreign interest in China, there was even a Mexican Legation within the Foreign Legation Quarter!

Also included within, or immediately without this partially-walled community was a power-station,  two hospitals, post-offices, shops, banks, a telegraphic office, the offices of the Peking-Hankou Railroad, the offices of the Peking-Mukden Railroad, two hotels, houses and villas, one church, and an English-style men’s club. Even the Peking branch of the Hong Kong-Shanghai Banking Corporation was located here. Sound familiar? Today it’s called HSBC.


The Legation Quarter, Peking

For thirty-nine years, Westerners and foreign Asians lived within the walled diplomatic compound, ignorant and uncaring of China. But at the turn of the last century, everything went pear-shaped.

The Boxer Uprising

Growing resentment of foreign influence, control and abuse in China was beginning to cut deep. China had been defeated in war, humiliated by treaties, and corrupted by the introduction of opium. Chinese were getting fed up of their ways of life, and their culture being attacked, fed up of their cities being overrun by Western barbarians, and were tired of having to trade with Western merchants on their terms.

In 1897, a society was formed. Officially, it was called the Society of Righteous and Harmonious Fists! To the Western press, it was simply called ‘The Boxers’.

The Boxers were a loose gathering of groups, which all shared the beliefs and goals that Western domination in China had to end, and that Westerners themselves had to be driven out of China, to preserve a way of life that had remained unchanged for thousands of years.

Foreign imperialism and colonisation, the settting up of concession-zones and other Western activities had ruined the lives of these people – they could no longer visit certain parts of their own cities and towns, which were under foreign control – they could no longer do business on their own terms.

They had their lives disrupted by Christian missionaries who were actively moving through the Chinese interior, setting up churches, monasteries, and destroying traditional Chinese belief-systems centuries old. Ancestor-worship, Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taoism were out. Jesus, God and the Holy Cross were in. Imagine being raised to believe one thing for generations, only to have strangers from across the seas show up and tell you overnight that your entire way of life was backwards, heathen, immoral and above all…UN-CHRISTIAN!!

And you can’t do anything about it. You can’t complain to imperial officials or village elders or city politicians – these priests and missionaries all have diplomatic immunity – they can show up, destroy everything – and there’s absolutely NOTHING you can do about it.

These attacks infuriated the Boxers, and they resolved to put an end to them.

All these grievances finally exploded in the late 19th century, resulting in targeted raids on any and all Christian missionaries in China. No heed was paid to which country they came from, or which denomination they preached of, they were attacked and slaughtered without pause or mercy.

Word by letters and telegrams spread around China’s coastline, from Nanking to Shanghai, Canton to Peking. Western refugees flooded the population-centers of China. Telegrams were cabled across the Atlantic and Pacific to foreign governments in London, Washington, Paris, Moscow, and Tokyo, to name but a few. By the close of the 19th century, the situation is going increasingly desperate.

German, Russian and French governments were quick to act, sending detachments of troops from their South Pacific colonies to China. From Indochina came French soldiers, from Port Arthur came the Russians. In the United States, any sense of panic and fear is dampened, the government doesn’t think that there is any reason for undue alarm.

The Chinese Reaction

From the famous Forbidden City in Peking…nothing.

The Qing Government does not actively support the Boxers…but on the other hand, they don’t really want to STOP them, anyway. As Boxers go from town to town, local government officials do not bother to halt their advances, or to arrest their leaders. There are no prosecutions of the Boxers in courts of law.

Ruler of all China, the Empress Dowager, Cixi (“See-Chee“) begins to see that the Boxers may actually be of help to her. If she can harness their anger and rage towards the foreigners, she might be able to drive out the devils and restore China for the Chinese! She gives the order that the Imperial Army is to back up and actively assist the Boxers in driving out the Western powers!

Eventually, the Boxers reach and occupy many major cities, including Peking and the city of Tientsin. Here, they lay siege to the foreign communities within the city boundaries.

The Start of 55 Days

On the 19th of June, 1900, the Imperial Court issues a decree – All westerners and foreigners MUST leave Peking and its legation quarter within 24 hours. They are to pack their bags, trunks, furniture, whatever they can push, pull or carry, load it onto the nearest railroad train, and leave the capital for Tientsin by 4:00pm the next day. If, by that time they have not complied, the Boxers, with Army support, are given permission to open fire against the Legation Quarter and start an all-out assault against the foreigners.


Legation Street, Peking

The foreign powers decide not to leave by majority vote. To set foot outside the walls of the Legation Quarter is almost certain suicide, as proved by the murdering of the German foreign minister, Baron Von Ketteler, as faithfully depicted in the film, ‘55 Days at Peking‘. They do not wish to tempt fate.

At 4:00pm on the 20th of June, 1900, the deadline expires. From this point on, all foreign diplomats, their families, their friends, businessmen, religious missionaries, civilian expats, and Chinese Christians holed up inside the Legation Quarter can be attacked at any time from any side, by the Boxers and the Imperial armed forces of the Qing Empire.

The legations are woefully unprepared for surviving the trap they’ve caught themselves in – Of 3,700 people, there are only 409 soldiers. Of 409 soldiers, most do not have weapons. Those which have weapons have only the ammunition which is loaded into it. Only the United States Marines, recently arrived, have sufficient ammunition for any serious engagement.

Their heavy armaments include three machine-guns and two cannons. Just like in the film, there really was a cannon nicknamed “Betsy“, and just like in the film, it was quite literally made from bits and pieces found all over the compound, from older firearms. Because of this, it also had the nickname of “The International”, because its various components of barrel, ammunition, carriage and wheels were taken from all corners of the Legation Quarter!

The Siege of the Peking Legation Quarter

Initially, nobody knew what was going to happen – defenders had no clear idea on how they would defend themselves against an attack that might never come, and the Chinese had no clear plan on how to attack the legations and what sort of resistance they might encounter.

Within the Legation Quarter, certain strongholds developed. The British Legation, as the largest structure, became an unofficial headquarters of the siege. Some legations which were too isolated from the others were abandoned, and their civilians and diplomatic staff moved into legations which were closer to the others.

Of crucial importance was protecting the walls which surrounded the Legation Quarter, in particular the Tartar Wall, which formed the southern boundary of the bulk of the Legation Quarter. If Boxers or Qing army forces scaled the wall, they could fire straight down into the streets, having an unobstructed field of fire running the entire length of the compound. The wall is shown at the bottom of the Legation Quarter map, further up in this posting.


U.S. Marines stationed within the Legation Quarter, 1910. The huge structure behind them is the Tartar Wall. The tower to the right is the Chien Men, one of the gates into the Legation Quarter

The Situation with the Legations

The Quarter had sufficient food and water, but nowhere near enough medical supplies, ammunition, fighting men, or weapons. Anything and everything that could be pressed into service was used. Women filled sandbags, 15 bags an hour, 360 bags a day. Chinese Christians constructed barricades along the streets, bridges and crossroads within the Quarter in the event of a hostile breakthrough. Throughout the siege, constant Chinese attacks forced the defenders to retreat back from their eastern barricades several times.

The British Legation was heavily fortified and hospitals and sickrooms were improvised in basements of major buildings.

Roughly half the Legation Quarter had walled boundaries. To the South, the Tartar Wall, To the north, walls which made up the ancient Imperial City also served as a boundary. To the east and west, there were no such walls. In the event of an attack from these directions, buildings were fortified and barricaded, and roads had blockades built across them made of sandbags and furniture.

The Start of the Siege

In the beginning, nobody really knew what was going on. There were divisions within the Chinese government about what to do with the foreigners. Force them to evacuate? Storm the Quarter? Orchestrate a ceasefire? Sign a truce?

Everything was up in the air.

The real fighting did not start until three days later. Trying to smoke the foreigners out, the Boxers and the Qing set fire to many buildings within the Legation Quarter. One of them was the Hanlin Academy. Housed within were several priceless and irreplaceable books and other records. Their destruction infuriated both sides, and at the same time, neither side agreed to take responsibility for the library’s destruction.

From then on, fighting was almost nonstop for nearly a month. From the 23rd of June until the 17th of July, battles were almost daily occurrences, despite attempts on both sides to quell the violence.

Fighting was particularly brutal around the Chien Men  (modern Pinyin: “Qianmen“), or ‘Front Gate’ of the Imperial City, the walls of which made up some of the Legation Quarter’s boundaries, such as the Tartar Wall.


The ‘Qianmen’ today, in the background

Explosives and cannons were used to try and breech the massive gatehouse. The photograph below, taken shortly after the siege, shows the sheer level of destruction wrought upon it. The entire top third of the structure has been blasted away in the fighting. Compare it with the photograph above to see the full extent of the damage.


After the Siege. Destruction to the ‘Qianmen’ of Peking

Fighting around the gate and the nearby Tartar wall which it punctuated, was intense. It was defended by a mix of Americans and Germans trying to drive off a force of thousands of Chinese who used scaling-ladders to climb the walls and push the defenders off. The Boxers and Qing did temporarily occupy the wall, but before they could do any serious damage, they were driven off and never again managed to retake this position.

The International Response

For over a month, until late July, no word got in or out of the Legation Quarter. Telegraph lines to the coast and other cities had been cut by the Boxers, preventing electronic communications. On the 28th of July, the first message from the outside world entered the besieged Legation Quarter. The message: Help was on the way!…eventually.

The First Relief-Attempt

The first attempt to break the siege of the Legation Quarter came just days after it started – On the 26th of June, 1900, Vice Admiral Edward Hobart Seymour tried to break the siege using a combined international force numbering 2,000 men, from Britain, Germany, Russia, Italy, Japan, France, the United States and Austria-Hungary.

This was not the famous Eight-Nation Alliance, it was a small band, a mix of soldiers and sailors from various nations all with a common purpose, up against a force more than twice their number (5,000 Chinese strong).

This relief-attempt came at the request of British Minister to China, Sir Claude Maxwell MacDonald (1852-1915), who sent a telegram for help, informing the outside world that the situation within Peking was deteriorating by the hour, and that soon, the whole situation could go up in flames.

The Seymour Expedition, as it was called, was a failure in every sense of the word. They were attacked every step of the way to Peking, and then attacked every yard they retreated. Railroads were sabotaged, bridges blown up, and the Expedition itself was running out of food – they hadn’t brought enough to last them there AND back! – They assumed that, once their mission was successful, they could restock their supplies and head home. The idea that they would have to make their supplies last twice as long as they needed to, or to bring extra supplies, never crossed their minds.

The Second Relief-Attempt

While the soldiers of the Legation Quarter had been fighting for their lives, the governments of the foreign powers represented within the Quarter had been organising military relief for the besieged. This came in the form of the Eight Nation Alliance.

In this alliance, between Austria-Hungary, Germany, Russia, France, America, the United Kingdom, Japan and Italy, the collected countries pooled their colonial military resources and resolved to send a relief column to China to break the siege.

Coming from India, Hong Kong (British), Indochina (French), Port Arthur and Vladivostok, (Russian), the Philippines (American), Japan, Port Athur (again!, this time, Austria-Hungary), Tsingtao (German), and finally, Italy, the various military detachments converged on the northern Chinese coastline in July of 1900.

Among the people who came to answer the call of distress from the Legation Quarter was one Capt. Georg Ludwig Von Trapp, as an officer of the German Navy. Sound familiar? The life of his family was immortalised in the film ‘The Sound of Music‘.

If the Eight Nation Alliance thought that ploughing through China to Peking was going to be easy, they had another think coming. Landing on the Chinese coast in an assortment of naval vessels, the military detachments marched through China.

First, they had to blast through Teintsin. Here, the Boxers and Imperial Chinese forces held back the Eight Nations for an amazing…24 hours, from the 13th-14th of July.

Even after making their way through Teintsin, the Eight Nation Alliance would not reach Peking for another month. On the 13th of August, they were still five miles away, and fighting for every yard.

The End of the Siege

The Eight Nation Alliance finally reached Peking on the 14th of August. At the time, Peking was still an ancient, walled city. There was a wall around Outer Peking. Then another wall around Inner Peking. Then a wall around the Imperial City. And another wall around the Forbidden City. Peking was a gigantic Russian nesting-doll with the Empress Dowager as the tiny dinky toy in the very center.

To break the siege, the Eight Nations divided their forces and they each attacked a gate leading into the Outer City or Inner City. The Legation Quarter was between the two cities, so this strategy would ensure that the Qing and Boxers would be attacked from both sides.

The British got there first at 3:00pm.  The Americans arrived two hours later.

The French never did reach their objective – they got lost on the way.

With such a show international military might, the Chinese forces retreated. The siege was officially lifted and ended on the 14th of August, 1900.

It had lasted fifty-five days.

The Aftermath

Military casualties of the siege were appalling. The Foreign powers within the Legation Quarter had not collapsed to Chinese aggression, but they had just about exhausted their ammunition supplies, and had lost 45% of their total fighting-force. Their original lines had fallen back on the Eastern side, and there were thirty-seven civilian casualties and injuries.

To ensure no repeat performance of a similar kind, the Foreign Powers occupied Peking. Cixi, the Empress Dowager, fled from the Forbidden City with her entire court. She wouldn’t return until 1902!

What happened after the ending of the siege is not recorded in the famous 1963 film…probably because it isn’t very pleasant.

Prior to the lifting of the siege, false news-reports were somehow telegraphed to the Western world. How is uncertain, due to the fact that electronic communications had been severely interrupted by the siege. But the information claimed that the Chinese had forced the entrances of the Legation Quarter, stormed in and had shot, beheaded, bayonetted or otherwise killed every man, woman and child within the Legation Quarter.

By the time this news-report was discovered to be nothing more than a Chinese hoax to piss off the Western powers, it was too late.

Filled with hatred over the apparent atrocities, the assembled Western powers and the Japanese, raided, robbed, raped, burglarized and trashed Peking. They even forced their way into the Forbidden City, something unheard of in the history of China, and ransacked the palace buildings, stealing priceless antiques and artifacts centuries old, and shipping them back to Europe.

When the Chinese newspaper hoax was finally proven, the Europeans and Americans found themselves doing a lot of soul-searching. Famous American novelist, Mark Twain, was just one of thousands who forced the Western powers to consider their motives and actions in China, and the morality of forcing their cultures and religions upon a country which not once had raised a hand in war against them, except to protect their own way of life.

More Info?

In Search of History: The Boxer Rebellion

“55 Days at Peking”

Trove.nla.gov.au – Sydney Morning Herald – Thursday, 22nd Nov., 1900. 

What’s That Tune? The Stories Behind Famous Pieces of Music – No. 2

 

Title? “The Danse Macabre”
Who? Camille Saint-Saens.
When? 1874
What? Symphonic Poem

The Danse Macabre (the first word spelt with an ‘s’), is a medieval allegory; a representation of the universal nature of death. In the Middle Ages, when death was everywhere, and few people were expected to live beyond their mid-thirties, the theme of all-encompassing death was a grim comfort to the peasant classes. As dismal and short as their lives would be, they knew that sooner or later, even the great kings and lords would also follow them into their own graves, and that wealth, riches and power did not spare one from the scythe of the Grim Reaper of Death.

The actual ‘Danse Macabre’ or ‘Dance of Death’ is an ancient European superstition. It holds that every year, on the night of All Hallows’ Eve (“Halloween” in modern English), the Grim Reaper calls the souls and skeletons of the dead from their graves, to lead them in dance and merriment, from strike of midnight until break of dawn. This was another way of softening the harsh realities of life and death, and providing people with the belief that death, while universal, couldn’t possibly be so bad.

The Danse Macabre as written by French composer Camille Saint-Saens in 1874, is the most famous of the many musical representations of Death leading the spirits of the dead in dance on Halloween. Although this piece can be played on the piano, it was actually written for a full orchestra.

The piece starts with the twelve strokes of midnight. As the church-tower rings the last bell of midnight, Death enters a graveyard, tapping and knocking on all the gravestones, to rouse the dead from their slumber. The wavering, continuous melody throughout the majority of the piece (in orchestral arrangements, performed by a solo violin), represents the personification of Death dancing through the churchyard, playing his violin, with the ghosts and skeletons of the dead dancing around after him.

The piece ends several minutes later, with the gradual rising of the sun, the rooster’s crowing, and the souls and skeletons of the dead crawling back into their graves, to await the Halloween dance of the next year…

Title? “Omphale’s Spinning-Wheel”
Who? Camille Saint-Saens
When? 1872
What? Symphonic Poem

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? Muahahahahaha!

The Shadow knows…

Composed in 1872, this is another of Saint-Saens’ most famous pieces. Another symphonic poem, it’s known to modern audiences mostly for the bridge in the middle of the piece, which was used in the 1930s radio program, “The Shadow”.

If you’ve ever wondered about the origins of that famous, slow, haunting theme, it came from here. In the video provided above, it starts at 3:22. It was performed on organ, for the radio-program by legendary organist Rosa Rio, who died in 2010…at the age of 107! 

Title? “Funeral March of a Marionette”
Who? Charles Gounod
When? 1872
What? Piano Solo

Fans of Alfred Hitchcock will probably recognise the slow, steady, rocking pace of this music as the theme to the 1950s TV series “Alfred Hitchcock Presents…“.

Composed in 1872 by Frenchman Charles Gounod (“Gouno‘”), also famous for “Ave Maria“, it was originally written as a piano solo, but was rewritten in 1879 as an orchestral piece. Hitchcock selected it as one of the pieces of music he would have a recording of, if he were trapped on a desert island.

Title? “Powerhouse”
Who? Raymond Scott
When? 1937
What? Novelty

Anyone who grew up watching Warner Brothers cartoons on weekend television will be familiar with the 1930s novelty tune “Powerhouse“, by Raymond Scott and His Orchestra.

Scott was famous for his whacky, novelty tunes which were highly popular in the 1930s and 40s. He used a lot of early electronic instruments to produce the weird sounds for which his music is famous. “Powerhouse” is best known for the bridge in the middle, with the slow, methodic, “Assembly-line” theme. It starts about a minute and a quarter, into the original 1937 recording, which is shown above.

Title? “Song of the Volga Boatmen”
Who? Unknown. Compiled by Mily Balakirev.
When? Unknown. Published by M. Balakirev in 1866.
What? Traditional Russian Folk-Song

Anyone who grew up watching Disney cartoons of the 30s and 40s is probably familiar with this ancient Russian folk-song, ‘The Song of the Volga Boatmen‘. Its origins are lost to history, but it was saved for posterity by Russian pianist and composer Mily Balakirev (1837-1910), who added it to his published book of traditional Russian folk-songs in the 1860s.

Barge-Haulers on the Volga (1873), painted by Ilya Y. Repin

The original lyrics tell the story of the Volga Boatmen, teams of peasant labourers who dragged barges and boats along the Volga River in Russia during the time of the Russian Empire. This backbreaking, thankless task worked many poor Russian peasants into their graves, but the song (used to help keep time during barge-hauling) was inspirational for its depiction of hard work and determination, and remained popular, even through the communist era of the 20th century.

The Volga is the longest and largest river in all of Europe, and runs through the hearts of many famous Russian cities, such as Moscow, and Volgograd (what used to be known as ‘Stalingrad’ during the Second World War).

Now Boarding: A History of Airports

 

Every day, hundreds of thousands of people travel through airports and millions of people travel by airplane. You grumble and bitch and complain about everything, don’t you? It’s far to walk, your bags are too heavy. You can’t take this, that, the other, and another thing, onto the plane. The gates and terminals are miles apart and you’re running late. Security-checks, baggage snafus, X-rays, immigration, and that endless standing and watching and waiting and walking and running…and at all possible hours of the day and night!

Airports are such a pain in the ass.

So, who do we have to blame for this nightmare? While you’re waiting for that flight which is three hours late, and which will last twelve hours from London to Singapore, why don’t you sit back and find out about the history of airports?

Before Airports

From the 19th century up until the 1950s and 60s, almost all international travel was done by railroad or ocean-liner. You rode in comfortable and luxurious Pullman cars across the vast expanses of the United States. You rode the Orient Express across the Continent. From ports like Southampton, New York, Melbourne, Sydney, Shanghai, Singapore, Hong Kong, Calais, Port Sa’id, Tokyo and Bombay, your ship or ocean-liner took you all over the world. Shipping lines such as the Hamburg-America, White Star, Red Star, French, Nippon Yusen Kaisha (better known as the NYK Line) and Pacific & Oriental (better known today as P&O) were world-famous, and shipping lines were all in direct competition with each other to grab as big a slice of the customer pie as possible.

Ports and railroad stations were major hubs. Victoria Station in London, Victoria Harbour in Hong Kong. The Port of Shanghai, New York Harbor, Grand Central Terminal, Union Station, King’s Cross, Paris Gare du Nord, Victoria Dock in Melbourne; all names which were once as familiar to us today as United Airlines, Qantas, British Airways, Singapore Airlines, and Pan-American.

We think that the Golden Age of Travel, the era when international large-scale passenger transport was possible for the first time, was confined solely to smoke-belching trains and ocean-liners, but even in the 1910s, airplanes and airports were beginning to make a name for themselves. And this is their story.

The Airfield

Starting in the mid-1910s, airplanes started becoming a serious form of transport. The First World War saw the first large-scale use of airplanes, for bombing, reconnaissance, artillery-spotting and the most thrilling of all – aerial combat – dogfights!

But what to do when the war was over?

Yes, airplanes had proved their worth, but for the large part, airplanes were still very experimental – most of them were made of nothing but wood and canvas, with struts and wire stays to hold the whole flimsy thing together.

But with the end of the war, there was suddenly a surplus of planes…and skilled pilots…who were suddenly out of a job!

So began the first experimental passenger flights, in the early interwar period.

With the first flights, came the first ‘airfields’.

Early airfields were nothing fancy – quite literally a field, with precious little besides, and usually belonging to, or purchased from a farmer. Fields owned by farmers were of necessity, flat, smooth, dry, and free of stones, tree-stumps and other impediments; ideally suited for aircraft landing. There were no terminals, no control-towers, not even any runways to speak of – nobody envisioned that air-travel would be used for anything more than the delivery of mail, anyway!

Early airfields were simply open fields…with grass. Handy for landing, not so great for taking off. Grassy fields created drag on the undercarriage and landing-wheels of early aircraft, which inhibited takeoff. Things were improved slightly when someone got out the lawnmower and the grassy field was replaced by dirt runways, but even these had issues – in wet weather, dirt runways turned to roads of sludge, making it impossible to take off, or land! It was clear that proper aircraft-handling facilities were required.

So when and where did the first airports pop up?

The World’s First Airports

The oldest airport still in operation was built so long ago, it was barely older than the machines it was built to handle! Opened in 1909 by Wilbur Wright, the College Park Airport, in Maryland, the United States, is the oldest airport in the world!

Originally, the College Park Airport was a training-ground, for the Wright Brothers to show off their new invention – the airplane! But by 1911, it had become an established airport, with wealthy civilians using the area to land and house their own machines. Among other historic events, College Park saw the first experimental helicopter test-flights in the 1920s.

In the postwar period of the 20s and 30s, large-scale passenger transport was still done with ocean-liners and steam-trains. But eventually, airlines started being formed, and they blossomed into the companies which we know today.

In Australia, a company called the Queensland And Northern Territory Aerial Services commences operations in 1921. In 1926, Germany establishes Deutsche Luft Hansa (three words). The same year, Northwest Airways is established…wasn’t that in a movie somewhere, starring Cary Grant?

A year later in 1927, in the United States, something called Pan American World Airways first takes to the skies, in 1927 with its famous seaplanes.

In Europe, where there was an established flying culture because of the First World War, and where short distances between countries made early passenger flights practical, the first airports were established.

In 1927, Tempelhof Airport was built near Berlin. Around the same time in England, land near an old race-course is used for aerodrome purposes. In 1930, it will become the famous London Gatwick Airport.

The old Tempelhof Airport, Berlin

Early Airlines and Airplanes

Aerial services were slow to catch on in the United States. With such vast amounts of land to cover between major cities from state to state, it wasn’t possible for many early airplanes to make the distance. They simply didn’t have the size or the fuel capacity to fly that far. Instead, the Americans focused on transatlantic flights.

With the establishment of the famous Pan Am Airways in 1927, America had an airline that could fly its passengers to countries like those in South America, but also to Europe and up and down the east and west coasts of the United States. The early passenger planes were romantically called the Pan Am Clippers. The word ‘clipper’ comes from a type of fast sailing ship, so fast that it ‘clips’ or skims along the water. The analogy was transferred to aircraft which would ‘clip’ through the air. An age of romantic and stylish air-travel had begun.


Pan American route-map, 1936

Travelling by Pan Am clippers was expensive, and could only be done from certain cities – all the planes were seaplanes, which took off from, and landed at, coastal regions. Pan Am was one of the first airlines to offer transatlantic flights.

The limitations of aircraft in the 1930s meant that not all flights were direct. Although Pan Am was flying the latest seaplanes, as designed by the famous Boeing aircraft-manufacturers, sometimes, a plane flying from America to Europe might stop at Newfoundland, Greenland and Iceland for refueling, before finally arriving in France or the United Kingdom. Some simply did not have the fuel-capacity or size to brave direct routes across the Atlantic Ocean. To restore passenger confidence, Pan Am had among the best pilots in the world – specially trained and carefully selected for their long-haul routes, where pilots were expected not just to fly the plane, but also fix it, if it had to make an emergency landing on the ocean, and get it back into the air again!

Come fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away…
A Pan American clipper seaplane, typical of the 1930s and 40s

Despite technological limitations of the times and low passenger-capacities, the old ‘clipper’ seaplanes did have one advantage which most modern aircraft do not. As they were designed to take off and land on water, the likelihood of surviving an emergency landing on water (a real possibility in those days!) was generally quite high. One such Pan Am aircraft, the Honolulu Clipper, flying Pacific Ocean routes, was forced to land in the middle of the ocean in 1945, when its starboard engines failed. The plane made a safe water-landing, but the pilots were unable to restart or repair their dysfunctional engines. Radio-contact with passing ships saw the passengers safely offloaded, but attempts to tow or fly the plane back to a coastal service-area failed, and it was left to drift and sink.

The same thing happened again in 1947, when another Pan Am ‘clipper’ (this time, the Bermuda Sky Queen) ran out of fuel halfway across the Atlantic! In the middle of a fierce storm, the aircraft was forced to make a crash-landing on the heaving Atlantic Ocean. Against all probability, the seaplane survives the impact with the water, and remained afloat for 24 hours! Long enough for pilots to send out distress messages, and to offload passengers into inflatable life-rafts stored on the airplane. The U.S. Coast Guard responds to the radio call for help, and rescue all passengers and crew.

It was incidents like this that assured the flying public of Pan America’s safety, boosting their numbers of passengers and increasing the need for better airports. Even if their ‘clipper’ got into strife, they knew that they would be able to land safely and be reliably rescued, thanks to radio communications.

Airships

From the 1900s until the late 1930s, what with airplanes being unable to travel long distances with safety, most people thought that the way forward for air-travel lay in the famous Zeppelin airships made famous by the Germans. Airships were slower than planes, but faster than ocean-liners, and could carry passengers in comfort. However, a series of devastating crashes in the 1930s, most famously, that of the Hindenburg, scared the flying public away from airship travel. And at any rate, by the end of the Second World War, aircraft design and capabilities had improved enough to make airships a thing of the past!

Airport Development

As air-travel becomes more and more appealing and romantic, the larger numbers of passengers all around the world means that serious thought must now be given to airport design and functionality. Below, we’ll find out about the origins of some of the features that would be found in any modern airport today.

Air-Traffic Control

A crucial component of all airports is one which most people never notice. Air-traffic control. Without it, no airport could possibly operate with any degree of safety or efficiency.

Air traffic control as we might know it today, has its origins in 1920s London. At Croydon Airport outside of the city, the first radio-operated air-traffic control systems are put in place in the early 1920s after two aircraft, one flying towards, and one away, from the airport, collide in midair.

To get better fixings on airplane-locations in the future, all airplanes are fitted with radio-beacons which send out waves. Three receivers around the airport bounce back the radio-waves, and by using three points of reference, are able to get an accurate fix on the location of any one aircraft at a time. This is the birth of modern aircraft tracking and positioning, which is eventually improved in the 1930s and 40s, with the arrival of 1st-generation RADAR.

Gates

As airports began to be more established in the 1930s, serious thought was finally being given to airport design. At the height of the Art Deco craze, airports of the 1930s were typically modeled after the only other example of large, passenger-handling buildings familiar to architects and designers at the time – grand railroad stations.

Modelling airports after the great railroad stations of Europe and the Americas had their pluses and minuses. Having large halls and gathering areas was convenient, but it could be tricky when it came to separating arriving and departing passengers. It would be too easy to get lost in the big central terminal which comprised the bulk of early airports. It was now that architects realised that some way of separating and organising passengers would need to be inbuilt into any future airport designs.

The idea of airport gates as we might know them today, came about in the 30s with London’s Gatwick Airport.

In order to load, offload and service as many airplanes as possible, Gatwick’s main terminal was built in a stylish “Beehive” shape:

The ‘Beehive’ meant that planes could circle around the central terminal, load up or offload passengers, and then taxi away smoothly, without the danger of crashing into other aircraft. This also allowed for passengers to be spread out, and be more easily organised, instead of being huddled up and being channeled through two or three doors. Corridors, walls and partitions inside the circular building could divide passengers into arrivals and departures. Now, they could move smoothly through the building, and in and out through multiple entrances and exits, speeding service and easing congestion.

Welcome to…’The Beehive’!

The first prototype gates were introduced at Gatwick. Previously, boarding a plane was an unpleasant experience – you left the terminal and crossed the tarmac and climbed a set of boarding-stairs onto the aircraft. This was bearable during good weather, but when it was rainy or windy, or even snowing, you probably felt more comfortable taking a train!

To provide passengers with greater comfort and protection from the elements, Gatwick Airport installed the first retractable, telescopic corridors ever to be used in airports – and which are the grandparents of all the covered boarding-ramps which we have today.

Numbering six in total, the telescoping corridors slotted neatly into each other and could be retracted when a plane was taxiing into position, and then rolled out once the aircraft was in place for boarding. Having six gates allowed for greater passenger organisation, and prevented overcrowding.

As airports boomed in the 1950s and 60s, with the arrival of the jet-age and the ‘jet-set’, and the vast advances made in aircraft design during the Second World War, airport improvements struggled to keep up. Organising passengers, providing amenities, providing parking, baggage-handling and other services became constant struggles.

Terminals

Terminals, large buildings which organise passengers, and provide them with the facilities and amenities which they need and require, are a key part of every airport in the world.

Imagine trying to board a plane, when you have to run from one building to another, to another, to another, then out onto the tarmac, and then onto the plane…

You’d rather walk from San Francisco to Chicago.

It was buildings such as the ‘Beehive’ (mentioned further up) that showed how all airport facilities could be housed, and how passengers could be sorted, all inside one building – comfortably, efficiently and without wasting time or money.

Airport terminals continued to evolve in the postwar period. Larger passenger-numbers meant that organisation was crucial. New York’s famous La Guardia Airport, which opened in the late 1930s, took the Gatwick model and upgraded it for even larger passenger loads, and better organisation.

The difference was that the ‘Beehive’ terminal at Gatwick is just one level – restaurants, ticket-counters and facilities are all on the ground floor – and upstairs is all offices. And arriving and departing passengers are all handled in that one, ground floor area. Yes, you can sort them out as they enter or leave, but not while they’re in the actual building. For the city which coined the phrase a ‘New York Minute‘, having thousands of passengers wandering around aimlessly inside their new airport terminal is a huge waste of time!

La Guardia Airport, 1940s. Note the seaplane dock, for Pan Am ‘clippers’

To nip this problem in the bud, the terminal at La Guardia is built on two levels! Departures are upstairs, arrivals are downstairs! They never mix, they never mingle, there’s no chance for someone to get lost. Passengers arriving at La Guardia can go straight in, where waiting friends or relations can meet them on the ground floor, without having to find their way upstairs and get lost. Departing passengers head to the upper level when they reach the airport, and wait for their aircraft, well out of the way of arrivals from overseas or other parts of the country. Also located in the departing area were restaurants, bathrooms, shops, lounges, public telephones and other facilities which allowed a departing passenger to kill the time between arriving at the airport, and actually sauntering out to his airplane.

Airport Security and Baggage Check-In

The one thing which everyone can’t stand – airport security. Metal-detectors, x-ray machines, dipweeds standing around waving wands up and down trying to find stuff on your body that ain’t there, and all eating up valuable time which you could be using to buy duty-free items. Like those chocolates. Or wine. Books for the flight, or CDs for your friend back home.

In the postwar era, airport security became a serious issue. With more and more people boarding aircraft and with more people flying, it became increasingly difficult to run security checks. Skyjackings forced the hands of many airports to try and find ways to stop terrorists at airports, before they boarded the planes.

Skyjackings were at an all-time high in the 60s and 70s; up to forty attempts were made on American aircraft in 1969 alone! Airports could not turn a blind eye to this. If people were afraid to fly, then airports would be bleeding money and losing customers nonstop, which would be a disaster.

The first airport metal-detectors and luggage-scanners entered terminals in the 1970s, taking inspiration from the log-scanners used at sawmills, to detect foreign bodies buried in tree-trunks, such as nails and bullets. Electromagnets on all sides scan a person as he goes through the metal-detector, and any metal on the body is reflected back to the magnets, which triggers that annoying beeping sound that we all hate so much!

At around the same time that airport security started becoming an issue, airport baggage-handling was taking a step up.

Previously, all luggage was handled by human bag-handlers. And generally, most of it still is. But the innovation came in how bags were sorted and organised in the airport. The way forward was shown in the mid-1970s, when barcodes, like those found on almost every type of consumer-product today, started becoming commonplace.

The idea of barcodes started back in the 1940s, but it wasn’t until the 70s that reliable printing methods (which didn’t smudge the ink, rendering the codes illegible) allowed barcodes to become part of everyday life. Poor printing of barcodes meant that the laser-scanners which read the codes could not distinguish between the different bars, when the ink smudged or ran together.

Now, when you check in, a tag is stuck onto your suitcase or roller-bag, with a barcode on it. And a simple scanning of the code tells the conveyor belts and baggage-handling systems where any particular bag is meant to be, and which flight it is destined to.

The Golden Age of Flight

The 1930s-1960s was the ‘Golden Age’ of commercial aviation. The time when it was new, exciting, and changing all the time. Yes, it’s still changing, but now it’s part of everyday life, and it’s frustrating and boring and just a means for getting from A to B. How much air-travel has changed since this period up to the modern day is staggering. And not just because now, we all have our own little movie-screens in our seatbacks, and can no-longer pack knitting-needles and crochet-hooks into our carry-ons.

Differences between aircraft travel then, and now, is the incredibly relaxed nature of older air-travel. Not just in security and luggage-allowances and whatnot, but also in the positioning of seats and greater attention being paid to style and passenger comfort, which to a certain extent doesn’t exist anymore.

For one, aircraft interiors were designed to be much more open-plan, in a manner which most (unless it’s a private aircraft) are not, today. This flexibility and openness is sadly missing, from much of modern air-travel, where people have to fight for leg-room and moving-space, instead of being crammed into airplanes like sardines. The idea that ‘legroom’ was an issue on older aircraft is probably laughable! And before the days of personal video-screens, passengers had much more creative ways of killing time during those long flights.

Bored? Why not show off your music chops on the keys, and provide some live entertainment for fellow passengers? If they vote you off, a parachute is stored under the piano-bench.

Our Final Approach

The next time you’re hauling your luggage through the terminal, patting yourself down to make sure you didn’t forget your tickets, passport, wallet, photographs, iPad, pens, favourite book, keys, or other essentials, spare a thought for the long, trial-and-error journey that the modern airport took.

It’s come a long way from a farmer’s field that’s had a once-over with a lawnmower. The modern airport has everything from hotels, restaurants, shops, medical clinics, cinemas, internet-access and prayer-rooms. Even a multistory slide, if you’re stuck in Singapore’s Changi Airport for a few hours with nothing to do.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!

Few other buildings have had the challenges of airports – organisation, people-management, security, luggage-handling, segregation and amenities. And yet without them, modern air-travel would be thoroughly impossible.

Want more information?

Documentaries:

Big, Bigger, Biggest:

Episodes – ‘Aircraft’, ‘Airports’.

Modern Marvels: ‘Airports’

Ten Things We Miss About Air-Travel

Wierd World Wars – Things You Probably Never Knew about the two World Wars

 

Did you know that…

During the First World War…

Soldiers used urine for almost anything! They pissed on their boots to soften the leather. They pissed on their handkerchieves to make gas-masks. They even pissed on their machine-guns to stop them warping from overheating! Urine was ideal for several applications in the trenches. It was easily accessed and in plentiful supply. Any duties where water was not absolutely required, or where urine was an acceptable substitute, this freely available fluid was utilised. Pee for victory!

Australia had the only 100% volunteer army. While other nations that participated in WWI had standing armies, the newly-federated (1901) nation of Australia did not have an army of its own. All its troops and officers sent to fight in the Great War were volunteers drawn up from ranks of civilians. Most of them had no prior combat-experience, and received only the most basic of outdated infantry training!

The first air-raids on a large population center were carried out. In 1915, the first-ever air-raids over a major city were carried out by the German ‘Zeppelin’ airships. Although highly inaccurate, these raids brought war to a civilian population that was previously untouchable. But for the first time, the people of Britain realised that the Channel was no guarantee of safety. The raids were carried out on London and other major British cities, starting in January 1915, and lasting until August of 1918.

The Underwood Typewriter Company manufactured a gigantic, working typewriter as a marketing gimmick in 1915!…It was later melted down for the war-effort. 

Despite the fact that the war started in Europe, the first allied shot was fired from Fort Nepean in Victoria, Australia!

Just two and a half hours after the declaration of war, Australia, a country on the other side of the world, fired the first allied shot of the war, using the coastal artillery cannon at Fort Nepean.

During the Second World War…

Despite the fact that the war started in Europe, the first allied shot was fired from Fort Nepean in Victoria, Australia!…Again! 

Just as in July of 1914, on the 3rd of September, 1939, the first allied shot was fired by the coastal artillery cannon at Fort Nepean, in Victoria, Australia, on the other side of the world! By the same gun, from the same fort…and the shot was even ordered by the same man! In both instances, gun-captain, Commander Veale, ordered shots fired across the bows of two ships which refused to heave-to. In both instances, just hours after the official declarations of war.  And before any other allied nation had fired so much as a flare gun.

Cities were bombed with pianos! Okay, not really. But…Starting in 1944, pianos were parachuted into bombed out, but liberated cities across Europe, as the Allies advanced eastwards towards Berlin. Manufactured by Steinway & Sons, and called “Victory Verticals“, these lightweight, cheap, upright pianos were designed to provide a form of entertainment for troops and liberated civilians, whose own instruments were damaged by air-raids and artillery-barrages during the earlier years of the war. 2,436 Victory Vertical Steinways were manufactured.

A Steinway ‘Victory Vertical’ piano, sourced from pianoworld.com

The British tried making aircraft carriers out of ice! Those crafty Limeys. They tried concealing convoy ships as icebergs, and tried to make aircraft-carriers out of ice, to save up on precious steel.

No such ships ever made it off the drawing-board.

American psychologists produced a Freudian-style profile of Adolf Hitler. As part of trying to understand their enemy, the Americans drew up a psychological profile of Adolf Hitler. Theories about Hitler’s personality and possible future actions were built up from known facts about the Fuhreur. These were gleamed from his published works, body-language in films, and from the few people who knew him intimately and had escaped to America. One of them was Dr. Eduard Bloch!

Dr. Eduard Bloch in his medical office in Austria, 1938. Two years before he fled to America with his family

Bloch (1872-1945) was the Hitler family doctor…and a Jew. For Bloch’s attempts at treating Hitler’s mother for breast-cancer (from which she subsequently died), Hitler gave Bloch special protection from Nazi antisemitic persecution. Despite this, Bloch felt unsafe, and fled from Austria to America in 1940.

Over a three year period, from 1941-1943, he was interviewed extensively by the Office of Strategic Services or “O.S.S.”, the precursor to the CIA. He provided the Americans with valuable insight into Hitler’s personality and early life, which helped them produce their psychological profile. He told them about such things as the death of Hitler’s mother, how Hitler reacted to the news, and details about Hitler’s childhood and upbringing.

Bloch settled in New York City. He lived long enough to see the defeat of Germany, and Nazism in Europe. He died on the 1st of June, 1945, at the age of 73.

The profile drawn up by the Americans was surprisingly accurate. It correctly predicted the July 20 bomb-plot of 1944, Hitler’s increasing withdrawal from public life, and even Hitler’s suicide in 1945!

During the war, many companies ceased production of their peacetime consumer-goods, and started manufacturing materials for the war-effort. Where possible, companies were asked to build things using materials or techniques and qualities which they already had. It wasn’t always a great success.

Steinway & Sons, the piano-manufacturers, produced lightweight wooden gliders for the Allies. These were used during D-Day, for the invasion of Normandy.

The Singer Manufacturing Company, world-famous producers of sewing-machines, was tasked by the Americans to produce sidearms for the army. They were given a contract to produce 500 Colt .45 automatic pistols. The pistols did not all pass muster, and Singer did not produce any more guns for the duration of the war. It produced bomb-sights instead!

Singer lost the pistol contract to Remington-Rand, the famous typewriter manufacturer! Remington was producing M-1911 pistols from 1942 until the war ended in 1945. In total, it cranked out 877, 751 firearms for the U.S. Armed Forces!

The Royal Typewriter Company ceased all production of civilian typewriters during WWII. From 1942 until the war ended in 1945, it cranked out rifles, bullets, machine-guns, and spare parts for airplane engines! It didn’t start making typewriters again until the war had been over for two months!

The Underwood Typewriter Company produced M1 carbines for the war-effort. In the late 1930s, it manufactured a gigantic, working typewriter as a marketing stunt for the World’s Fair:

Just like in 1915…this too, was melted down for the war-effort! This typewriter was a giant version of the Underwood Master standard typewriter:

Rationing on the British Home-Front was so severe, some people came up with interesting substitutes for some rare, rationed foodstuffs and goods…

Makeup for women was in short supply. Beetroot-juice was used for lipstick, gravy and pencil-marks were used to create the illusion of stockings.

Eggs were almost nonexistent. And if you wanted them, you had to open a can of egg-powder, instead! (Eugh…) Egg-powder was mixed with water, and the resultant slurry was fried on the pan.

Restaurants continued to operate throughout the War, but were not allowed to charge more than 5s (five shillings) per dish. Vegetables were not rationed in any way at all.

Fish and Chips were not rationed. But getting plaice, cod and other regular varieties of fish was almost impossible. Instead, Britons had to eat Snoek, (“Snook”), imported from South Africa.

Winston Churchill was an impossible workaholic. He worked day and night. He worked on the toilet. He worked in the bathroom. He worked in bed. He would stay up for hours and hours at a time, working. By comparison, Hitler enjoyed his shut-eye.

The British Army had its own magician! No, I’m serious. It really did.

His name was Jasper Maskelyne (1902-1973). Born into the famous Maskelyne stage family, Jasper was originally a magician performing in London’s West End theaterland. When war broke out, Maskelyne was recruited by the British Army to provide morale-boosting performances to allied troops. He soon grew bored of this, feeling that he was not doing enough for the war-effort. He offered his services to the army as an expert in camouflage and deception. The Army was not exactly taken by the idea. They thought Maskelyne was mad!

Maskelyne’s argument was that as a stage magician, he had a lifetime of experience in deception, trickery and illusion, which could surely be handy for the Army! But they weren’t interested. To this, Maskelyne famously retorted:

“If I could fool an audience only twenty feet away, I could certainly fool the enemy, a mile away, or more!” 

Maskelyne supposedly convinced the army that he had something to offer, when he successfully created the illusion of a German battleship. He was employed as a camouflage expert, and together with his team of men (the “Magic Gang” as they were called), Maskelyne set to work putting on his greatest show ever.

Among other things, Maskelyne disguised tanks as trucks, to make military-buildups look like harmless goods-deliveries. He set up blackouts, and fake lights at night, to shift the position of Alexandria Harbour (a key attack-point for the German air-force), and most amazingly, shrouded the Suez Canal (a vital link between Britain and its Empire) beneath ‘dazzle-lights’.

Dazzle-lights were powerful searchlights aimed at the sky. Twenty-one massive search-lights would have revolving heads, each head with two dozen smaller lights. Aimed at the sky and constantly spinning, the hundreds of lights created a glittering, dazzling effect. It was very pretty, but its purpose was to disorientate German pilots. Blinded by the dazzle, they wouldn’t be able to look down from their aircraft to spot the canal, and therefore wouldn’t be able to bomb it.

The canal is still here, so it obviously worked.

So there you have it. These are just a few of the weird, whacky little facts about the two World Wars which you probably won’t find in your history books.

Flaming Hell! A History of Fireplaces and Fire

 

Ooooh, burny…

My fireplace in winter.
It’s nice to sit and tapper away on the Underwood
in front of a big blazing inferno

Fire: Primal. Essential. The key to human survival. Used to describe everything from boiling passion and flaming love, to burning hatred and searing vengeance. What is the history of fire? How has it shaped the world? And how has the world shaped fire? Let’s find out together.

The Essence of Fire

There are innumerable milestones in the history of mankind, from walking upright, to using tools, to hunting, gathering, farming and the waging of war. But few inventions in history are as important as the creation, understanding, and use of fire. For thousands of years, fire was an essential to life. It heated homes, it gave us light, it cooked our meals, and gave us warmth and protection. Without fire, human migration and settlement would’ve been next to impossible. And human progress and creativity would’ve been greatly hindered. This posting will look at man’s use of fire, as well as the advancements of fire technologies and tools.

The Three Elements

A fire requires three things to burn:

Air. A fire cannot burn without sufficient oxygen.

Fuel. A fire cannot last without additional fuel to keep it going as it consumes its current supply and turns it to ash.

Heat. A fire does not burn and does not last without heat to get it going, and to keep it going.

It was early man’s understanding of these three components of fire that allowed him to use and control fire. Control it for heat, light and cooking. And control is vitally important – improperly used, fire can destroy as much as it can delight. But how do you get a fire?

To start a fire, you first need fuel. Small fuel at first – Tinder. Tinder is anything small, dry and extremely combustible. Cotton-wool, old thread, shredded cloth, dry straw, moss, grass and finely torn paper will all suffice for tinder.

On top of tinder, you require kindling, which is small pieces of wood to encourage the fire to burn and grow. Kindling wood needs to be small and dry – branches, off-cuts of planks, scrapwood, bark, etc, will all suffice.

On top of kindling, you require fuel-wood. Fuel-wood or firewood, are the larger logs, or segments of logs, which you load on top of the kindling once it’s burning sufficiently. As with the others, it needs to be dry. Start with small pieces of fuel-wood first (like thick branches) and then work your way up to larger logs or branches.

There are a million and one methods of building fires – Upside down fires, Teepee fires, log-cabin fires…the methods are endless – and so are the arguments for each one and why A is better than B. So I won’t cover that. Everyone has their own method that works for them.

But how do you LIGHT a fire? This, for centuries, was one of the hardest things to do…

Lighting a Fire

You have your kindling, tinder and firewood. Now you just need it to burn. A fire won’t burn without heat to get it going. To get heat, you need a concentration of energy. Before the advent of matches in the 1800s, fire-lighting was a laborious and at times fiddly task, and was achieved in one of two ways: Concentration of light-energy, and concentration of friction-energy.

Ever stolen grandpa’s magnifying glass and used it to burn ants? That’s starting a fire through concentrating light-energy. Specifically, concentrating the rays of the sun until they are focused on one spot for long enough that the intense heat generated causes your tinder to catch fire through solar energy!

The other method of creating fire, if the sun was not available, was to use friction. This is much more unpredictable and requires quite a bit of skill and patience, but it does work.

One of the most common ways of lighting a fire through friction was through the use of the bow-drill:

A piece of wood with a hole in it is placed on the ground over a piece of kindling-wood (the top piece of wood is used to provide stability). In the hole, a piece of tinder is placed. A wooden stake (the ‘drill’) is placed over  the tinder. The bowstring is then looped around the drill, and the bow is drawn rapidly back and forth and up and down the drill.

Driving the drill back and forth at high speed over the tinder creates friction, which creates heat. At 300 degrees Fahrenheit a spark is generated from the friction, which catches the tinder. Once the tinder is lit, the bow, the drill, and the top piece of wood are removed, and the tinder is fed with kindling to start a fire.

Placing the Fire

Gathering tinder, kindling and fuel-wood for a fire and drying it out was relatively easy. So was starting a fire, given the right tools and sufficient practice. The next thing for early man to conquer was the placement of a fire.

Fires had to be built and lit with careful consideration. Failure to light a fire in a safe place could result in catastrophic, uncontrollable infernos that could destroy grasslands, forests and settlements.

Controlling Fire

The first fires were simply built and lit inside ‘firepits’. A fire-pit was an area of land cleared of grass and wood, where a hole was dug. The hole had stones placed around it to create a fire-ring and hearth, and then the fire was simply built inside the ring and let to burn. And for centuries, this was the main method of fire-control and placement.

Having an open fire in the middle of your house or room or hut or cottage or cave had its advantages and disadvantages. First – the heat was all over the place – Lovely!

The problem was…so was the smoke! Although fireplace smoke can smell beautiful and tangy (which is why we love smoked foods and wood-fired pizzas so much), uncontrolled smoke could be deadly to the people around the fireplace.

To control the smoke, or to clear it out of the building, A simple solution was just to cut a hole in the roof of the building and let the smoke shoot up there. This worked…kinda. The smoke would leave the house through the hole in the roof…eventually. It would waft up there, not flow up there. So it took a while. And if the wind was against you, then you had real strife!

The chimney, followed by its companion, the fireplace, was invented in the 12th Century (1100s), although for a long time, they were considered features found only in wealthy homes and castles. Care had to be taken in their construction of stone, or brick, and this made them expensive. But by the 1500s and 1600s, fireplaces were slowly becoming more and more commonly found in the homes of regular people.

The Fireplace

Starting in the Medieval Period, houses of varying levels of grandeur were constructed with chimneys and fireplaces. Fireplaces were built out of stone or brick, and a typical fireplace setup involved…

The Chimney or Flue

The long stone, or brick pipe or vent which channeled the smoke up and out of the building.

The Smoke-box

The chamber at the bottom of the chimney-pipe, which acted as a buffer against downdrafts.

The Fire-Box/Fireplace

This is directly under the smoke-box, and it’s where the fire itself would be located.

The Hearth

The stone or brick platform on which the firebox and chimney is built. Sometimes extends outside of the fire-box into the room, to provide extra protection against rolling logs.

The Advantages of the Fireplace

The fireplace had numerous advantages over the everyday hole-in-the-ground fire-pit. The fire was now safely contained in its own little box, with a stone chute to carry away the smoke. A sliding or hinged shutter above the firebox, the damper, allowed you to close off the fireplace chimney in inclement weather, to prevent cold drafts and rain from coming down the chimney and into the room below. A big improvement on the hole in the roof which was a permanent opening to the weather outside!

In smaller dwellings, a fireplace was used as both a heater, and as a cooker. The fire kept the room and house warm, but also provided heat for cooking. Pots hung on hooks, or placed on trivets or stands over the coals and ashes of the fire, could hold food (usually soup or stew or some variety of pottage) which could be cooked, or kept warm over the coals and flames.

In and Around the Fireplace

As the fireplace started becoming more and more accepted and more a part of people’s homes and lives, a whole industry sprung up supplying equipment and accessories that the discerning homemaker could purchase for the fireplaces that were likely to have dotted the average home during the period from the 1600s up to the majority of the 20th century.

Andirons

Also called ‘fire-dogs’, andirons (sold in pairs) are iron (or in more expensive models, brass) stands used to support burning logs above the hearth of the fireplace, to encourage air-flow and improve a fire’s chances of burning more completely.

Brass andirons in a fireplace

Andirons could be simple iron bars or frames, or they could be elaborate, decorative stands made of brass. Some andirons had additional bars and hooks which could be attached or removed as required, so that buckets, pans and pots could be hung over or near the fire, to allow water to boil, or to cook a simple meal.

Andirons at work, supporting a stack of burning firewood

Fireplace Grate

The grate in my fireplace

Invented in the 1600s, fireplace grates were a big advancement on andirons. While andirons could hold large logs and chunks of firewood, a fireplace grate could contain the entire fire, kindling, charcoal, fuel-wood and all, and keep it off the floor of the fireplace, improving airflow. Made of wrought iron which was forge-welded together,  grates varied in size, from smaller, coal-burning grates, to much larger wood-burning grates, which could be several feet wide and several inches deep.

Fenders

Typically made of brass or iron, a fender is a wrap-around fire-guard placed on the hearth in front of the fire. It’s designed to prevent ash, coals or rolling logs from entering the room and creating a mess, or starting any unintentional fires.

A brass fireplace fender. Fenders are freestanding, and they can be moved to more easily clean the fireplace between uses

Fire-Irons

Fires were originally tended to using whatever utensils were close to hand, usually improvised. Old swords, iron bars, tree-branches and such. Eventually, pokers were created to give a person a permanent fire-tending tool. Ash-shovels, brooms and fire-tongs soon followed, and it’s these four items that typically make up the average set of fire-irons, usually stored on their own little iron or steel stand. Fire-irons are made of iron, or in more expensive sets, brass.

 

Fire-irons, stored on their own racks, became staples of homes around the world, and every household was likely to have at least one set. Smaller and shorter ones for coal-burning fireplaces and stoves, and larger, longer ones for wood-burning fireplaces.

Log-Cradle

Placed next to the fireplace, or directly outside the front/back door, a log-cradle (and it’s relation, the log-bin) became a necessity during very harsh winters.

When it became impossible to make the trek out to the wood-shed in the middle of the night, or when snow or rain proved too heavy, wood had to be stored near to the house. Log-cradles were designed to hold enough wood for anywhere between one night’s burning, or up to a week or more. These cradles are always held above the ground on legs, to stop moisture from gathering and allowing the wood to dry more effectively.

Dustbin

These days, a ‘dustbin’ is just another word for a rubbish bin or a garbage-bin. But in the days when wood and coal fires were a part of everyday life, a ‘dustbin’ was a separate and distinct entity. Specially made of metal with tight-fitting lids, carry-handles, and with raised bottoms, dustbins were constructed specifically for the task of holding household dust and fireplace ash and soot.

Storing ash from the fireplace in the dustbin was done usually only temporarily. When the bin was full, the ash would be dumped into the garden compost-heap. In large cities where this wasn’t possible, the dustbin was collected by the dustman in his dust-cart on a regular basis. The ash and dust in the bin was used for fertiliser out in the countryside.

Bellows

Fire was an important part of life for centuries, especially in places like the kitchen. Where-ever possible, man created instruments which improved and sped up the creation and maintenance of fire. You could continually blow on a fire, or fan it, to give it more airflow and oxygen, but blowing is exhausting, and fanning is imprecise.

Bellows are much more precise, regulated and forceful, which is why they’re preferred over other methods of giving a fire oxygen.  Giving a fire oxygen like this causes faster combustion and therefore, greater heat output.

Fireplace Reflector/Fireback

It may surprise some people, but fireplaces are not especially efficient. Crackling flames and wafting plumes of smoke give the impression of great energy and heat, but actually, only a small amount of that heat and light is projected into a given room. A fireplace is only open on one side, so only a quarter of the fire’s energy is projected into the room. The rest of the heat which the fire generated is absorbed by the iron grate, the floor, the three walls of the fireplace, or else goes up the chimney.

To improve fireplace heat-efficiency, a fireback is generally recommended. A fireback is a metallic panel placed behind the grate, between the fire and the back wall of the fireplace.

Firebacks come in one of two styles: Solid cast iron panels, or reflective steel, copper or aluminium panels (this latter called fire-reflectors). They both do the same thing, but in different ways.

An iron fireback absorbs the heat from the fire, and radiates this captured heat outwards. This increases the amount of heat that the fire produces, which would otherwise be wasted by being absorbed by the brickwork on the back wall.

Antique cast iron fireback

A reflective fireback or fireplace reflector works by reflecting the heat and light of the fire out into the room. This not only increases the heat output substantially, but also reflects a lot more light into the room, creating a brighter fire.

The reflector placed behind the grate in our fireplace. A homemade affair easily fashioned out of sheet-metal, a few screws and some metal bars

Fire Screens

The Great Fire of London Screen!

Along with fenders, fireplace screens started being used in the 18th and 19th centuries. Originally just a way to cover up the fireplace when it was not being used (to hide the unsightly vision of burnt charcoal and ashes), modern fireplace screens (made of copper or brass) serve a double-purpose of also protecting the room from sparks, flying embers or rolling logs.

Chimney-Sweeping

Chim-chimney-chim-chimney-chim-chim-cheree,
a sweep is as lucky as lucky could be…

Apart from giving us possibly the worst Cockney accent ever in movie history, the otherwise wonderful Dick Van Dyke furnished those living in the 21st century with another falsehood about the history of the fire – that chimney-sweeping was a jolly old lark full of fun and games!

If only t’were true.

A fireplace that is used for the majority of the year, every year, or one which is used every day for years on end, needs to be swept regularly. The rosy-cheeked fellow who does this is the humble chimney-sweep.

Every time you light a fire in your fireplace, soot and ash is drawn up the chimney by the updraft of smoke. Over the course of years, this soot and ash builds up inside the chimney, forming black, crumbly deposits called creosote. Just like how grease in your kitchen drain prevents water from going down the pipes effectively, buildups of ash in the chimney prevents smoke from going UP the pipes effectively – in this case, your chimney-pipe, or flue.

For this reason, it’s necessary every now and then to get your chimney swept. By a sweep. With a broom and a brush.

Men of the Stepped Gables

If you’ve ever been to Europe, you may have seen buildings with rather odd-shaped rooves, such as this:

At the peak of the roof, you can see the chimney-stack with the pots on top. Sloping away on either side is the roof. See how it’s staggered down like a staircase?

Called crow-step gables, this roofing-style was popular from the Middle Ages up to the 1700s. Although it looks very pretty and geometric, it actually serves a practical purpose: It’s a built-in chimney-sweep staircase!

In an age when ladders rarely went right up to the roof, buildings were constructed with crow-stepped gables to give the poor chimney sweep somewhere to stand and climb in relative safety, as he made his way to the chimney-top to sweep down the ashes. And it was just as well, because chimney-sweeping was rife with dangers! Rather ironic then, that chimney-sweeps are supposed to be symbols of good luck!

Up until the late 19th century, chimney-sweeping was an extremely dangerous and even lethal profession. But not always for the reasons you might suspect. Laws in the United Kingdom and the United States had to be passed, and then strengthened, before the practice of shoving boys up chimneys was finally abolished in the 1870s.

Child Chimney Sweeps

“It’s a nasty trade!”

“Young boys have been smothered in chimneys before now”

“That’s a’cause they damped down the straw afore they lit it in the chimbly to make ’em come down agin! That’s all smoke, and no blaze; whereas smoke ain’t o’ no use at all in making a boy come down, for it only sends him to sleep, and that’s wot he likes. Boys is wery obstinit, and wery lazy, gen’lemen, and there’s nothink like a good hot blaze to make ’em come down with a run…It’s humane, too!” 

– “Oliver Twist”, 1837

No write-up about chimneys and chimney-sweeping could possibly be complete without a part dedicated solely to the trials and tribulations of unfortunate apprentice-sweeps. Since the earliest days of chimney-sweeping, up until the last quarter of the 1800s, children were used to sweep chimneys. It was indeed a nasty trade, to say nothing of being extremely dangerous and lethal. But what made it so?

In England especially, but also in the United States, children, usually young boys between the ages of four and ten, were sent up chimneys with small brushes to sweep down the ashes inside the chimney-flues. It sounds harmless enough, but was actually phenomenally dangerous.

Imagine the following…

It’s 1830. You’re an orphan-boy, maybe six years old. You’re apprenticed to a Master Sweep. A typical assignment had you following your master to a well-to-do house somewhere in London, to sweep the chimney.

Now understand please, that it was NOT in most cases, the master sweep who did the sweeping – It was usually the job of his apprentice-boy to do that. The youth would be given a brush, and then he would literally have to crawl into the fireplace, and then climb up the chimney from the inside! In this dark, extremely cramped environment (usually less than 1ft square), the boy had to crawl up the chimney and stop every few inches to brush down the ash inside the flue, while the master sweep down below had the cushy job of sweeping the fallen ash into sacks to be removed from the building. In the most extreme of cases, boys were forced up chimney-flues which measured just NINE INCHES BY NINE INCHES! Measure that out with your ruler and see if you could get your son, or your nephew, or grandson, to squirm through a hole that size.

Now imagine a chimney-shaft 15 feet long, and getting him to crawl up that all the way to the top, and then crawl all the way back down again. Then imagine crawling up the chimney…and losing your footing…and falling two storeys down in the dark, and breaking your ankle on the hearth below. Or even worse, imagine getting your knees jammed up against your chest inside the pitch-black chimney, and being completely and utterly wedged into the chimney-pipe. You would choke on the ash, or die of asphyxiation from the smoke or from compression-injuries from the tight squeeze.

This did happen. And frequently. The ways to get boys out was either to drag them down with a rope, or to smash the chimney-flue open with a sledgehammer to break him out – before he either suffocated due to his cramped position, or choked to death on the falling ash.

Most chimneys were not large. Usually, one chimney was shared by two or three fireplaces, all stacked up on top of each other. So the bends, crooks and corners could very easily trap a child if he lost concentration, or panicked, and got himself wedged into the brickwork.

Young Master Oliver Twist was fortunate not become a “climbing boy” as chimney-sweep apprentices were called, and the British Government was genuinely concerned about the plight, and deaths of climbing-boys, but very little was ever done. The first act of parliament to try and regulate the chimney-sweeping trade was in 1788, but had little effect.

As early as the 1790s, longer, mechanical chimney-sweeping brushes had been invented, to try and replace climbing-boys, but due to the vast array of flue-types, the brushes were not always practical. Another act regulating chimney-sweeping came out in 1834, and another in 1840! But still the practice of sending boys up chimneys continued.

In the 1800s, the modern chimney-brush (still used by sweeps today, with big bushy brush-heads and segmented, screw-on handles) was invented. But its introduction was met with ignorance by chimney-sweeps. The new brushes were expensive and burdensome to carry around. It was much easier to pay a poor, starving peasant family, or a pauper family living in the East End of London ten shillings, or five shillings, to take their children away and make them climbing-boys.

Armed with scrapers and brushes, and usually stripped naked, these children were shoved up chimneys to clean them from the inside out. And not just for cleaning chimneys, but also to put out chimney-fires! Imagine being a 10-year-old waif, crawling up a chimney with a flaming hot blaze inside it, with a wet towel to extinguish it!

Although presented in a comical fashion, mocking the chimney sweep’s accent in his book, Dickens’ description of the working-conditions of climbing-boys was incredibly accurate, and some master sweeps really did light fires in fireplaces with the climbing-boys still up the flues! Unsurprisingly, some kids were literally roasted alive.

It was not until 1875, and the disaster attending a boy named George Brewster (aged 12) that sending boys up chimneys was finally outlawed in England! Poor George crawled up a chimney at the Fulbourn Hospital in Cambridgeshire, England.

Like so many hapless boys before him, he got hopelessly jammed in the flue. Sledgehammers and picks had to be brought out to smash the entire chimney down to get him out. He was dragged out alive, but died shortly after. The hospital staff were so appalled that they brought the incident to the attention of the police. George’s master sweep was given a sentence of six months’ hard labour on a charge of Manslaughter as a result.

George’s death in 1875 resulted in the passing of the Chimney Sweeper’s Act of 1875, which finally ended the practice of sending boys up chimneys.

Modern Chimney-Sweeping

After the 1875 abolition of child chimney-sweeps, sweeps had to rely on brushes to do their job for them. Or at least, in the United Kingdom. The practice of climbing boys continued in the United States, even after it had been abolished in England.

The standard chimney-sweeping brush has a round or square head, with stiff-bristles made out of wire for added abrasive action. The brush is fed up (or down) the chimney, and additional extension-rods are added to the brush to push it further up or down the chimney to scrape down the ash and soot.

These days, chimney-sweeps also use vacuum-cleaners and video-cameras to clean and inspect chimneys, but it remains a dirty, dusty job even today.

Like a Tinderbox

For centuries, the only way to light a fire was to do it the old-fashioned way – either through friction or concentrated sunlight. Eventually, mankind discovered that by striking certain materials together, sparks could be generated easily, and a fire could be started much more quickly.

To do this required three things: Flint, steel, and tinder.

Flint is a rock which can be easily chipped and fractured. When chipped to an angle, and struck or scraped down a piece of steel (such as a disc or a rod), sparks are generated by the friction, or the impact of stone and steel. These sparks, (shavings of steel, in fact), landing on a piece of tinder, would start a fire. Usually, flint and steel were kept together, along with a small, tightly-sealed container which held the tinder. This became known as a ‘tinderbox’. Tinderboxes had to be tightly sealed to keep the tinder as dry as possible so that it would catch fire instantly when sparks were showered upon it after flint and steel had been struck.

Even today, we have an expression about how something catches fire “like a tinderbox”, or how a potentially volatile situation is “like a tinderbox”, echoing the extremely combustible contents of these little metal boxes.

Striking a Light

For centuries, starting a fire was a fiddly, imprecise business. It was something which took skill and practice. Things improved when people realised that they could use steel and flint, but the absolutely best, idiot-proof way to light a fire came with striking matches.

Matches have a long history, and it goes all the way back to Ancient China. But modern striking matches, of the kind we purchase and use today, were invented in the 1800s. The first of this kind came out in 1816, and was invented by Frenchman Francois Derosne. Early matches were tipped with sulphur and white phosphorus.

These early French matches were fiddly to use and unpredictable. An improved version by Englishman John Walker, a chemist, was invented ten years later, in 1826, and is the basis of all matches we have today.

Walker’s early friction-matches were improved in 1829 by Scottish inventor Sir Isaac Holden (1807-1897), and were sold under the brand-name of ‘Lucifers’. Although they were an improvement, ‘Lucifer’ matches didn’t last, but the brand-name became a common nickname for matches during the 1800s and early 1900s, and matches were commonly referred to as ‘Lucifers’. The war song ‘Pack up your Troubles’ immortalised them with the line:

“So long as you’ve a Lucifer to light your fag, smile boys, that’s the style”

By the 1830s, more reliable friction-matches had been invented, these matches were stored in smart, silver or gold cases called vestas, which were commonly worn on pocketwatch chains and carried around with a gentleman, since one never knew when one might need a light. These vesta-cases often had corrugated striking-plates on the sides or bottom, so that a match could be retrieved and lit from the same container.

An antique silver vesta case. Note the striking-ridges on the bottom

Matches continued to be phosphorus-tipped, strike-anywhere friction matches until the last decades of the 1800s. Although convenient in the fact that these matches could catch fire after being struck against any sufficiently rough surface (even the sole of your shoe!), their convenience came at the price of being a fire-hazard in that they could be too-easily ignited.

On top of that, white phosphorus matches were extremely poisonous. The unfortunate ‘match-girls’ who made these things, by dipping the matchsticks into phosphorus solution developed a crippling infection called ‘Phossy Jaw’. In essence, the phosphorus fumes seeped into the body and rotted out your jaw-bone, resulting in bone-infections, gum-infections, losing your teeth…eugh.

This was stopped in the later 1800s when white phosphorus was replaced with safer red phosphorus, which is still used today.

Starting in the mid-1800s, poisonous, dangerous, white-phosphorus friction-matches were gradually replaced by safer red phosphorus matches. These were less poisonous, and also much safer because instead of having the phosphorus and sulphur on the match-head at the same time, these matches only contained phosphorus, and the sulphur striking-compound was painted onto the sides of new cardboard matchboxes. Behold the modern safety-match!

The safety-match which we know today works because when you strike a match against a box, the sulphur and phosphorus combine, while at the same time creating friction, which is what causes the match-head to ignite. With the two components of a burning match now separated from each other, it is impossible for a friction match to be lit purely by being struck against an abrasive surface. This made them safer to handle and store than traditional strike-anywhere matches.

Mankind Roasting on an Open Fire

For centuries, heating, lighting and cooking was done with an open flame and fire, using candles, lamps and fireplaces. The Industrial Revolution of the 1700s saw the first practical iron stoves being built in Europe. Made of cast iron, these stoves were able for the first time to allow people to do more of their cooking at home.

Previously, cooking on an open fire was fiddly and tricky – You were limited by what you could hang over the flames or sit on the hearth. The first stoves allowed mankind to fry, bake, steam, boil and roast a much greater variety of foods than a simple open fire would have permitted. This greater control of fire vastly improved home comfort.

Prior to the invention of the cast iron range stove, baking was a specialty art. The only people who could bake were the people who had ovens. And ovens were huge brick and stone structures which were expensive to build and took up a lot of precious space. Not everyone had them, and most people didn’t. To bake your pies, cakes and loaves, you had to take them to the village bake-house to be baked.

With the stove, it was now possible to bake at home! And with a much better fuel, too.

It was at this time that people started switching from wood as a fuel-source to coal, instead. Coal had advantages, but also disadvantages. Coal burns hotter than wood, and so produces much more heat for the same amount of fuel. The problem is that coal burns and produces nasty black smoke! Eugh!

Wood-smoke is lovely. Everyone loves wood-smoke. It smells wonderful. People have smoked meat, cheese, fish and all other sorts of things in wood-smoke for centuries. It preserves the food and gives it a lovely flavour! Yum! But mixing coal-smoke with your food was apt to put you off your appetite, and to prevent this, coal-burning stoves and fireplaces did everything to channel the smoke away from the rest of the house.

Fires in the 21st Century

In the Developed World, the wood or coal-fueled fire is no-longer the primary source of heat or light anymore. Most of us cook on gas or electric stoves and heat our homes with heaters or central heating or split-system air-conditioners. But in other places around the world, fires continue to burn bright. But what should you do if you want to get a fire going?

Using your Fireplace

Perhaps you live in an older house with a fireplace and you would like to start using it to warm the house in winter? What to do, what to do, what to do??

The first thing to do is to ensure that your fireplace is a working fireplace. By this, I mean that all the fittings are functional and undamaged. The chimney should be clear and undamaged, and the damper should open and close smoothly. If you are unsure about the condition of your chimney, then you should have it checked by a professional chimney-sweep. Or you can do it yourself – All you need is a ladder, a flue-brush (and extension-rods) a few drop-sheets and a vacuum cleaner (or a shovel and bucket).

Whenever a chimney is swept, you’re scraping out all the soot and ash which has caked onto the inside of the chimney. It’s called creosote. Here’s a picture:

Scraping this crap out of your chimney-pipe ensures that the air moves smoothly up the flue and that the smoke has an unimpeded passage to the outside world.

To prepare the fireplace, you need to ensure that you have all the right bits and pieces. The necessary bits and pieces are listed and illustrated earlier on in this posting.

Lighting a Fire…

There are a dozen methods for building and lighting a fire. Here are just two methods, and the bare essentials.

To light a fire, you will need a source of ignition – matches, a cigarette lighter, or flint and steel if you want to do it the old-school way.

You will also need tinder. Tinder is anything small, dry and shriveled. Grass. Straw. Shredded, scrunched or twisted paper. Old cloth. Tinder goes first, at the bottom of the fireplace grate.

On top of the tinder, you set up your kindling. Kindling is any small dry pieces of wood. Usually old branches or larger pieces of wood split into smaller pieces. Kindling should be small enough that you can grab a whole bundle of it in one hand. If you can’t, it’s probably too big.

Light the tinder and wait until the kindling is going. Once it is, you can lay on your pieces of fuel-wood. Start with smaller pieces and work your way up to progressively larger pieces.

Waiting for the kindling to light before going further is important. It allows the fire to get a foothold. But it also allows your chimney a chance to warm up. You can’t light a fire in a cold fireplace (trust me, I’ve tried. It doesn’t work). Letting the kindling burn for a bit sends hot air up the chimney. This drives out or warms up any cold air in the chimney, and establishes an updraft – a current of air that draws more air into the fireplace below, which stimulates the fire and encourages it to burn more intensely.

With this going, add on your fuel-wood in increasingly larger segments and logs. You have a fire!

As always, keep an eye on your fire. And if you’re not going to, then make sure that the safety-screen is across the fireplace to prevent accidents – Rolling logs do happen, and you don’t want to come back to your living-room to find one burning a hole in your carpet. You might want to keep a small bucket of water or a fire-extinguisher nearby, in case the unforeseen should occur.

Fire-Building Methods

The two most common fire-building methods are the Upside Down Fire, and the Tepee Fire.

The Tepee Fire works on the age old rule that fire always burns UPWARDS. So any extra fuel should be placed above and outwards, from the fire’s point of origin. You put your tinder in a little pile in the middle of the fireplace, then lean kindling sticks against it, like an American Indian tent, or ‘tepee’. Then lay fuelwood around it in the same manner with a little door open at one side, to stick a match into it to light the kindling.

The other fire-building method which has gained a lot of popularity is the Upside Down Fire.

While the Tepee fire works best with almost any size of wood, the Upside Down Fire works best with smaller, thinner pieces of wood. It’s built in the following method:

Get your fuel-logs and stack them in a criss-cross pattern, building up a tower of wood. At the top, build your fire-tepee with tinder and kindling, and a small amount of fuelwood. Then light the fire at the top.

The reason it’s called an UPSIDE DOWN fire should now be apparent – It goes AGAINST the rule that fire burns from the bottom up. The Upside Down Fire works in that the flaming materials burn DOWNWARDS through the tower of fuel-wood. As it does so, any unburned portions of the tower collapse inwards, further fueling the fire, until it reaches the very bottom, and burns out. Upside Down fires are meant to be maintenance free – Build it, light it, forget about it. Ideal for camping. Or lazy people.

Both methods work. It’s just a matter of which one is best for you in your situation.

Neither Rain, nor Snow, nor Sleet, nor Hail: A Compact History of the Components of Mail

 

These days, more people send emails than letters. They use the telephone more than they send telegrams. And yet, in this day and age of frantic internet buying, with sites like eBay and Gumtree, and the countless other online businesses offering all kinds of goodies with which to suck the money out of our wallets, mail delivery is just as important now as it has ever been before.

Postal systems have been around since the dawn of writing, and to cover the development of a mail-delivery system would take an entire book…which I’m not going to write. Instead, this posting will look at the history of the various aspects which make up the modern postal system.

Why is it called a “Postal System”?

We all get mail. We all send, deliver and receive mail. But people also tend to call it ‘post’. There’s the Royal Mail in England, Australia Post in Australia, the United States Postal Service in the U.S.A. Why does it switch between ‘mail’ and ‘post’?

‘Mail’ is the cargo which a postal system transports and delivers. Letters, postcards, parcels, packets, boxes, crates and so-forth. The system which delivers this cargo is the ‘postal system’. But why is it called a postal system?

The very word comes from the earliest days of mail delivery. Back in the 1500s, when Henry VIII developed the Royal Mail in England, mail-couriers or despatch-riders literally rode, on horseback, between mail-posts, set into the roadside from town to town. To send something by the postal service was to literally meet the post-rider…at the post, the wooden stake in the road…and give him your letter which you wanted to have delivered. These days, we might be familiar with the position of “Postmaster General“. This came from the original Tudor office of ‘Master of the Posts’, literally the man who was in charge of ensuring that the post-officers remained…at their posts!…and delivered mail in a safe and efficient manner.

Mail Delivery

Ever since the first mail-services were created, delivery was extremely slow for an extremely long time. A letter posted in London could take days to reach Edinburgh, or Paris, or Berlin. A letter posted in New York could take weeks to reach San Francisco. And a letter written on one side of the world to be sent to the other, could take months to get there, often relying on trade or naval ships to transport it in their cargo-holds, if they happened to be going in that particular direction.

One of the first attempts at prioritising the delivery of mail was made in the 1700s. For a roughly seventy-year period between the early 1780s until the late 1850s, the British Royal Mail relied on a fleet of mail coaches to speed deliveries of mail throughout the United Kingdom.

Mail delivery had previously been very slow, and dangerous! Post-riders transported not just mail, but also parcels and packages, which might contain valuable or expensive items. It wasn’t uncommon for lone post-riders to be set upon by highwaymen who would relieve them of their cargoes, steal their valuables and even kill them!

The coordinated system of mail-coaches changed this. Not only was delivering mail by coach relatively faster, but also safer. The mail-coach always had at least four men riding on it: A driver, his assistant, and two armed post-guards, who rode on the back running-board. This way, anyone attempting to rob the coach would have to deal with four armed men, first!


An actual British mail-coach from the early 1800s. This one ran the route between London and York. Note the huge storage-trunks over the axles for carrying mail

The mail coach was also used as a sort of long-haul public transport system. Passengers could pay a fee, and ride along inside the mail-coach during its journeys, to get to their destinations much faster than what they might ordinarily. Also, since the mail-coach was working for the Royal Mail, a government agency, it was illegal for anyone to stop a coach. Toll-men, highwaymen, nobody could halt a mail-coach, and they didn’t stop for anything less than a broken axle!

Steam-Powered mail took over from horse-drawn mail in the 1850s. With the improvement and expansion of railway networks around the United Kingdom, Europe, Canada and America, mail-coach services were eventually phased out when the postal-services realised that these newfangled wood- (later, coal-) fired, steam-powered locomotive engines could speed mail to every part of a given country. Soon, post-offices and railway stations merged, so that post could be transported by rail and steam as far and as fast as was necessary and possible.

Special mail-trains were used in most cases, and their only task was the delivery of mail. To save time, letters and parcels were often sorted en-route by the mail-handlers, so that when the train reached its next drop-off point, or station, the necessary mail-sacks could just be dumped off on the platform, without time wasted in needless waiting and sorting.

To save even MORE time and to further improve the efficiency of mail-delivery, rail-mail was collected and dropped off even when the train was on the move! Specially-designed mail-cranes were built next to major railroad-routes:

Different types of mail-cranes or mail-hooks were used. Some simply held up sacks of outgoing mail for the train to snatch off it as it rocketed past. More complex ones would collect incoming mail, and send off outgoing mail at the same time.

As sacks of mail were prepared onboard trains, they were hung on hooks outside the mail-carriage. At the same time, sacks of mail waiting to be picked up were hung onto the arm of the mail-crane. As the train whizzed past the crane, the crane-arm whipped the sorted mail-sack off the side of the train. At the same time, the arm swung around, and a second hook or arm on the railroad carriage yanked the outgoing mail-sack off the crane, throwing it into the mail-carriage! Later on, the local postman would show up and pick up the dropped-off mail, and possibly hang another sack of outgoing mail onto the crane, to be collected by the next train that came hurtling by.

This silent film from 1903 shows a mail-crane in action:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lVSC4jt2R8

Steam-power also changed the nature of international mail-delivery. With faster, steam-powered ocean-ships, mail delivery was cut from months to weeks, or even days! In the United Kingdom, ships with the prefix “R.M.S.” (“Royal Mail Ship/Steamer”) were officially licensed to transport shipments of British mail. As on trains, mail-clerks onboard ships would sort the mail en-route to their port of destination.

With all these innovations, it’s not surprising that the Victorians were the ones who had among the most efficient postal systems in the world. Up to twelve deliveries a day! No worries about not getting that contest-entry form in on time, huh?

In the interwar period of the 1920s and 30s, the first experiments were made in air-delivered mail. Not having to worry about signals and tracks and waves and oceans, an airplane could fly mail from city to city, dropping it by parachute, and then landing to pick up more mail to speed onto its next destination.

Envelopes

For much of history, whenever you posted a letter, not only did you have to write it by hand, you also had to produce your own envelopes by hand! Most people would fold their letters into envelope-shaped forms, write out their letter onto it, and then simply fold the letter up and sealed it with wax, so that the letter and envelope were one and the same, which saved time.

It wasn’t until the invention of the first purpose-made envelope-folding machine in 1845, that envelopes could be purchased separately from stationer’s shops.

The classic envelope was cut and folded so that when it was assembled, it created a neat rectangular or square shape:

But have you ever wondered why envelopes have four, triangular flaps meeting in the middle?

Although you could glue the flaps down with regular paper adhesive, envelopes were originally folded and set in this manner so that a single wax seal, placed in the center of the envelope, was all that was needed to hold the entire packet neatly closed.

Most of us don’t seal our envelopes anymore, and generally rely on the paper glue that comes with the envelope, to do that for us, or we simply lick the glue to moisten it and then smash the thing shut, but nevertheless, the triangular, X-form on the back of envelopes has remained to the present day.

Stamps

It used to be that when letters were sent by post, it was the duty of the recipient to pay for the letter’s delivery. This was seen as inefficient, difficult to enforce, and frankly – rude. Why should YOU have to pay for a letter which you might not have been expecting, or which you wouldn’t want to receive, anyway?

This widespread dissatisfaction with the payment of mail-delivery charges led to widespread corruption, abuse, frustration and distrust of the postal system. To combat these issues, and to ensure payment for poastage, the introduction of the postage-stamp was made in England in the 1840s. With the new ‘Penny Black’, the first-ever postage-stamp, the sender purchased the stamp along with his envelopes, and pre-paid for the delivery, which cost…one penny!

With payment taken care of before the letter was even picked up by the mailman, there were far fewer complaints from customers about who had to pay for postage, how much and when.

Mail Boxes

With their twelve-a-day system, you can bet that it was the Victorians who invented the concept of the mail-box! There would be no other way to organise the millions of letters, envelopes, cards and parcels that sped around the U.K. at the time!

Mail-slots for incoming mail came about in the 18th century in Paris, but it wasn’t until the 1800s in Britain that the idea of a mail-slot, or a mailbox for each residence or business really took off. As part of the reforms of the postal-service (which also saw the introduction of the penny-post), Britons were encouraged to have a mail-drop point somewhere on their residence for the convenience of themselves, and the postman! In more built-up areas, a simple letter-slot, sometimes with a basket hanging on the side of the door, was sufficient. In more suburban parts of town, actual kerbside mail-boxes were installed.

Pillar-boxes, or public post-boxes for the depositing of outgoing mail came about in the Georgian era. The oldest one thought to exist dates back to 1809 in England.

In the United States, mail-boxes became popular in the 1880s, when the U.S.P.S. encouraged people to have individual mail-boxes outside their houses for the speedy delivery and pick-up of mail. Instead of large, bulky public boxes that might take up space on the street, residential mailboxes in the ‘States were used for both incoming, and outgoing mail. Raising the red flag on the mailbox told the postman that there was outgoing mail which was to be collected.

The Mail Always Gets Through…

Mail has existed for thousands of years. But the icons of mail-delivery such as stamps, envelopes, mailboxes and dedicated postal-delivery men are all relatively recent developments. Where once mail took weeks and months to get anywhere (and sometimes still does!), technological advancements have meant that in the 21st century, mail is delivered faster and with less hassle. All the more important with the heavy reliance that all of us place on the postal-service, even now in the 21st century.

The Idiot and The Odyssey: The Complete Restoration of my Grandmother’s Singer Sewing Machine

 

In looking back over my blog, I realise that it’s been over a year since I started the seemingly ludicrous mission of restoring my grandmother’s 1950 Singer 99k sewing-machine. I am proud to say that as of the date of this posting, the restoration is complete!

Gran was born on the 7th of May, 1914 in Singapore. She died on the 28th of November, 2011, in Melbourne, Australia. Weet-Bix are suspected to have played a role in her demise. She was 97.

Granny was a dressmaker, and from the early 1950s until the early 1980s, was in this trade professionally. When she retired, she moved to Australia, and her Singer sewing machine came with her. A battered, but trusty Singer 99k knee-lever electric sewing machine. This machine was gran’s life and she used it in place of any other machine that might ever have been, or might have become available for her to use.

When gran moved to the nursing-home, in the early 2000s after worsening Alzheimer’s Disease, her most treasured possession, her Singer, was placed in the basement, where for the next eight or-so years, it sat in a corner at the bottom of a bookcase, gathering dust.

When gran died, I hauled the machine out of the basement and began a steady restoration process. I don’t know what possessed me to do this, other than the fact that this machine was gran’s livelihood for most of her adult life.

The majority of what happened next is covered in my earlier article. This posting is more of an addendum to what I’ve already written.

The Frankenstein Moment

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

*Thunderclap!!*
*Flashlightning!*

…Ahem.

Actually getting the machine running and sewing for the first time really was an exhilarating experience. Second only to getting the machine-case off the base! It took a lot of oil and fiddling with a screwdriver, but I got it off eventually, and was very happy.

Getting the machine running was a considerable task. It was literally frozen solid when I got the lid off the machine-base, and not a single thing apart from the presser-foot lever and the bobbin-winder worked. Everything else was jammed solid from a complete and total absence of lubrication. And it’s no exaggeration to say that it took me nearly a week to lubricate the entire machine to a level where it would run as well as it did when it was brand-new.

I must admit, it was rather fun. There is the incredible thrill of a challenge, combined with the later sense of accomplishment, when it came to getting that machine running again.

I had almost given up at one point, but perseverance was the key. It was a real joy to see it running at full speed again, for the first time in probably ten years (or whenever the last time it was used, happened to be. At least ten years ago, though).

Duhr…Now What?

It’s working! Oh my god it’s working! It runs, it stitches, it sews, it runs at every speed,  the light turns on, gets hot enough to fry breakfast on, and then turns off. Everything is excellent! But what do we do now, huh?

I really wasn’t sure. Like I said, I didn’t have any real reasons for wanting to bring this thing out of the basement other than to tinker around with it. But once I’d got it running, I started thinking about these other things that I could do. And that’s when the thought entered my head that I could bring the machine back to its former glory, by tracking down and purchasing all the necessary bits and pieces for it. I had no idea where on earth I would begin. But as luck would have it, I live very close to a large and very well-stocked flea-market. And it was from that market that I purchased nearly everything for this machine.

The Scavenger Hunt

I started with simple things, like needles and bobbins. These were pretty easy to find. And all the while, I was busy cleaning and fixing the machine. It was like a gunk-generator. Every time I thought it was clean, I’d find some other part of the machine that required my attention. Like under the bed. Or behind the balance-wheel, or inside the electric motor, or underneath the bobbin-case. On top of everything, the machine required constant lubrication! It drinks oil like Barney Gumble drinks Duff Beer.

The harder things which I had to track down were the sewing-machine accessories boxes, the attachments that went inside them, the accessories that went with them, and the green oil-can that went inside the machine-case. I had no idea what these things looked like, and it took a long time to track them down. I actually ended up buying multiple boxes of attachments and pouring them all out, and scrambling them around until I had assembled one FULL box of attachments from the dribs and drabs found in other boxes. Those dribs and drabs would be useful for spares later on.

One big problem with this machine was finding the original square steel bobbin-plate or ‘slide-plate’. The slide-plate was a protective metal plate that shielded the spinning bobbin-mechanism from dust and tangling threads. There wasn’t anywhere local that I could buy one, and waiting for one to show up at the flea-market would take years.

The only way I could get one was to buy a replacement online. You can buy ORIGINAL Singer plates online (and there are people who sell these), but obviously, stock is limited, and as a result, prices are much higher. I had serious doubts about this. So instead, I went the reproduction route. With the help of a cousin, we bought the replacement plate from an eBay store based in the U.S.A., and had it shipped halfway around the world to…here.

Boy that took so long. I think it was something like a month or more, of waiting.

Finding the oil-can for the sewing-machine was rather challenging. There are all kinds of Singer oil-cans and bottles. And I had no idea which one I would need to fit the slot inside the case-lid. All I knew from what I saw, was that it had to have a flange at the bottom, and it had to have a curved base. Out of sheer luck, I found the can which I needed at the flea-market, hidden in the pre-dawn mists, amongst a bookcase full of all kinds of other cans which were for sale. I paid $5 for it and walked off.

Sentimental Attachments

Finding all the attachments for the sewing-machine was another big challenge. No one box of parts which I bought ever had the full set. So I was forced to buy four or five boxes of parts, and slowly piece them together, to form one big box of attachments. In the end, I had enough bits and pieces around to create two complete boxes!

On top of all the usual steel attachments, was the challenge of finding the zigzagger and buttonholer attachments. These old Singer sewing machines performed a very basic straight lockstitch. To allow these machines to make more complicated things like zigzags and buttonholes like modern machines can, the manufacturers came up with all kinds of fascinating gizmoes which you could bolt onto your machine.

Quality of Manufacture

One thing that I love about all these items is the quality of manufacture. The bobbins, the attachments, screws, plates…everything is made of solid steel, without exception. Nothing like that exists today. Today, bobbins are made of plastic, feet and other attachments are made of plastic. Even the screws are made of plastic. One crack or warping renders them useless. The older steel parts are nigh indestructable.

It’s stiff? Oil it. It’s rusty? Sand it. It’s dull? Polish it.

With plastic parts…it’s cracked?…Uh…I dunno. Throw it out and buy another one?

Money wasted and thrown down the toilet.

These steel pieces will literally last forever. And their simple, no-nonsense construction means that they will always do the job that they were made for, without any compromising on quality. Back in the good old days, this was standard. These days, we have to pay extra for quality that should come with the original product. Which doesn’t. They literally don’t make ’em like they used to.

The Last Piece

By the start of 2013, I had finally gathered all of the main components of the sewing-machine. I had the needles, oil, feet-attachments, the two main mechanical attachments, instruction manuals and other dribs and drabs. However, one piece remained elusive. The bed-extension table.

The bed-extension table came with most Singer sewing machines and it was used to extend the bed of the machine, to give you a larger work-area. This had the advantage of stopping your sewing-piece from sliding off the end of the machine-bed, and pulling your carefully-pinned cloth out of alignment with the needle and presser-foot.

Sadly, they’re not easy to find. The bed-extension table is of very simple construction, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to be thrown out or lost due to their rather bland and simple appearance. Unless you knew what you were looking at, the extension-table looks like just another plank of wood.

I discovered one recently at an antiques shop, along with a box of other bits and pieces, and snapped it up then and there. The standard Singer bed-extension table measures 8.5 inches wide (the width of the machine-bed), and about eight inches long.

Finding that final, missing piece means that the machine is finally back in its original and complete condition, having been reunited with all the items that would’ve come with it when it was purchased brand-new from the shop.

Like New!

The pictures below show the machine looking as it would’ve done back in the 1950s, complete with the parts that would’ve come with it when purchased brand-new:

Bits and pieces such as zigzaggers, buttonholers and other bits and pieces were purchased separately on a required basis. But those photos illustrate what came with the machine when it was brought home for the first time.

This model, the Singer 99 series, was manufactured from the mid-1920s up until the late 1950s, and came as a handcrank machine, or as a knee-lever machine. Knee-lever machines started coming out in the 1930s, and both hand-crank and knee-lever models were produced side by side until the model ceased production ca. 1958.

The body of the Model 99 changed significantly in the later years of its production, but the machine as it appears here would’ve been identical to one from the 1920s, minus the motor and the knee-lever, and with a spoked, instead of solid balance-wheel, with a crank-handle bolted to the side.

Built like a watch? More like a tank. The Model 66, the 99’s immediate predecessor, was highly popular, but extremely heavy and cumbersome.

The Singer 99 model was designed to be a 3/4 size “portable” machine, a step down from the full-size Singer 66 model, which came out in 1905. The 99 was designed to overcome the 66’s problems with regards to size and weight.

This advertisement from 1928 emphasizes the new machine’s portability! And with portability comes choice! You can now sew anywhere you want! Bedroom, living-room, parlour, guestroom, even outside if you wanted to. The one thing this advertisement does NOT publicise is the fact that this machine is DAMN HEAVY.

Keep in mind that the 99 was supposed to be a “portable” machine, a step down from the larger and highly popular 66 model. But despite the downsizing, the 99, complete with all its bits and pieces, still weighs in at 33.25lbs, or just over 15kg! I know this because I weighed it myself. Not so portable now, is it?

Nevertheless, it’s a practical, popular, stylish and robust machine, well worth restoring and using.