London diaries: The brutal and the poetic in Londonium

Dear friends,

We spent last week in London and my first impressions of this city that the Romans christened Londonium in 47 AD—just 1.2 square miles at the time—were the same as when I last visited it two decades back. London is Washington, DC, Mumbai, and New York rolled into one with a nice overlay of European charm—the quintessential ancient buildings and Gothic architecture, charming little parks at street corners, and colorful public transportation scurrying across the city.

My second epiphany after visiting the Tower of London and Shakespeare’s Globe Theater on the same day was: evil and good have forever co-existed, and here I am in London on day one, smack in the face of this nugget of humanity. These two world famous spots were barely over a mile apart, yet their histories could not be more different, depicting the complex facets of human personality and life.

The Tower of London is a mighty fortress in the center of the city overlooking the Thames, and has been home to eccentric kings, exotic wild animals, violent beheadings, the Yeomen Warders—its legendary guardians—pampered ravens, and today, host to the Crown Jewels of England. The Tower attracts more than three million visitors a year.

On executions, ravens, and ghosts at the Tower of London

The Tower of London’s pristine green lawns stand in stark contrast to its brutal past when it was built in 1078. The imposing castle was an ominous reminder to the newly conquered English citizens that the Normans, headed by William the Conqueror, were now in charge of their city. Anyone who did not comply with the new modus operandi would be imprisoned in the Tower, or worse, be brutally executed.

Why castles? We can think about castles back then the same way we think about new technology today—they did not exist before, and they were the cool new thing to do. So, William the Conqueror landed up building quite a few such castles for his own defense, including the current day working castle at Windsor. But the Tower of London certainly takes the cake for having the bloodiest past.

Heads of traitors who were executed used to be displayed on spikes on the London Bridge, at the Stone Gateway on the south bank from around 1300 until 1660.  One of the more notable citizens to face a grisly death was noted Renaissance humanist, Thomas More under the reign of Henry VIII, the infamous English king most known for his tumultuous love life that included seven marriages.

Ironically, Thomas More coined the term utopia in his namesake work, yet clearly, his death was far from utopian (note to self: is death ever Utopian?). Originally appointed Lord High Chancellor by the controversial Henry VIII, More refused to acknowledge Henry as supreme head of the Church of England—you see Henry VIII no longer wanted Catholicism to reign supreme as he wanted to divorce his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, who was not capable of giving him a male heir. Thomas More refused the annulment of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon. Therefore, More was conveniently accused of treason and executed brutally. They say his head was on display on the London bridge for one month—custom of the time—till his daughter Margaret got hold of it, and it now lays at rest at Canterbury, perhaps with the remains of Margaret and her husband's family.

A poignant engraving depicting Sir Thomas More and his daughter bidding him farewell before his execution.

How much better are we in modern times?  As imperfectly perfect our own world may be, at least we don’t have to contend with the stark imperfection of being publicly executed for speaking our mind—in most parts of the world, anyway.

There were other notable historical figures who faced a gruesome end of life at the Tower, like explorer Walter Rayleigh, who went in and out of the Tower three times under two monarchs before finally being executed under James I; three queens of England: Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII, Catherine Howard, Henry’s fifth wife, and Lady Jane Grey; and Guy Fawkes of the famous Gunpowder Plot fame.

It is believed that ghosts of these histories past continue to haunt the grounds of this medieval castle today. Just to make things a tad more otherworldly, the grounds of the Tower are also home to several ravens. Legend has it that if the ravens leave the grounds, the British monarchy will come to an end. Well, their clipped wings and limited mobility ensure that the English monarchy will live long.

While no Poe’s creation, this raven on the grounds of the Tower of London seems perched on its own “bust of a palace”.

On doggedly putting Shakespeare’s Globe on the map again: Sam Wanamaker’s story

A little over a mile away on the banks of the river Thames, history takes on a more poetic twist at the Globe Theater, the world famous icon of Shakespearean drama. Did you know that the Globe Theater was missing from the Thames river skyline for close to 400 years after its tragic destruction in the fire of 1613? A cannon announcing the unexpected arrival of king Henry VIII at the end of Act 1 in the namesake play set fire to the thatched roof, burning down the theater in minutes! It was briefly reconstructed after the fire, but subsequently shut down in 1642 after the English Civil War to make room for tenements.

At the time, Shakespeare was at the height of his career—the Globe belonged to Shakespeare’s holding company, Lord Chamberlain’s Men, and it was a great success, with its 3,000 capacity was often tested to its limit.  It’s rumored that Shakespeare’s health declined after the Globe burned down and he was not able to write again.

It was surreal, visiting the iconic the Globe Theater, one of the most recognizable structures on the banks of the Thames in what is now a lively arts and culture district. The interior has been painstakingly recreated to match its original structure including its thatched roof and open air top.

What’s lesser known to history is that it was thanks to the perfect goodwill of American actor and director, Sam Wanamaker—who spent approximately 23 years researching, designing, and fundraising for the project—that the Globe stands today in its former glory, almost 400 years after the English bard’s stomping grounds were no more.

A prominent plaque to American actor Sam Wanamaker sits conspicuously on the entrance wall of the Globe Theater.

The story goes that when Wanamaker arrived in London in 1949 to make a film, all he saw was a dusty plaque on a brewery wall in the darkest area of Southwark, and he exclaimed, “This is it?” He was upset by the fact that while a number of replicas of the Globe Theatre existed in America, the actual site of the original in London was marked only by a plaque.

The plaque was the only thing to commemorate the fact that once upon an Elizabethan time, Shakespeare’s Globe playhouse stood there. Picture credit: www.shakespearesglobe.com/

Wanamaker then made it his single-minded goal to restore an exact replica of the Globe to feature plays and a museum, and eventually secured ten million dollars in funding for the theater.

Wanamaker celebrates the successful settlement of the 1986 High Court case against Southwark Council and Derno Estates. Picture credit: Alan Butland.

Incidentally, Wanamaker, while a successful actor, was blacklisted as a communist during U.S. President, Joseph McCarthy’s tenure and eventually landed up making London his home—there’s always that imperfect nugget in a “perfect” story, isn’t there?

Wanamaker’s work and dreams were fulfilled when the new Globe Theatre opened in 1997, approximately 750 feet from the site of the original theatre. Alas, Wanamaker did not live to see his beloved Globe open! Tragedy struck and he died of cancer around three and half years before its opening. It was his daughter, Zoe Wannamaker, also a stage actress, who was present at its opening.

So, there you have it, a nugget each on the brutal and the poetic in London. Interestingly, if we look within, we are bound to find the same struggle between good and bad in our daily life, making the presence of the poetic and the brutal in a city a reflection of life itself.

Meaningfully yours,
Anu Prabhala