The Hunterian Museum

 (at) The Royal College of Surgeons

Lincolns Inn Fields

London WC2A 3PE

Wednesday November 5 2014

I had thought that opting for this, after the vastness of the Tower and our as yet incomplete visit, we would be seeing a small and intimate collection rather on the lines of other medical museums (see The Old Operating Theatre and the Alexander Fleming Museum ) but no: the Hunterian Collection is most substantial and well displayed within the imposing building housing the Royal College of Surgeons. Like many other London-based venues, this one too does corporate hospitality and today seemed to be hosting not a group of would be ‘sawbones’ but mortgage lenders – I suppose a London property does cost an arm and a leg. But I digress.  Our visit was preceded by an interview with an ‘Evening Standard’ reporter who had picked us up following recent publicity from BBC London who caught us at the Cinema and Garden Museums and also in ‘Time Out’. Rachael Sigee had alerted the College of Surgeons Press Officer who kindly gave us a Museum Guide which should ensure a better level of accuracy. Last week my excuse for ignorance of history was one thing – ‘Not my period’ – but today I can say even more categorically I never had a single Biology lesson in my life though I have somehow blagged my way working in a hospital setting (not medically, I hasten to add).

Why Hunterian? Because John Hunter, a keen surgeon teacher and anatomist, collected specimens of both healthy and unhealthy body parts. Hunter was a Scot – there is a pattern emerging here with Alexander Fleming also from north of the border and Astley Cooper of the eponymous  Old Operating Theatre -  a pupil of Hunter’s. Hunter bought /rented two houses close to each other. The posh bit fronting Leicester Square was where his wife Anne did the entertaining (the museum has a similar lute to the one they would have heard playing). However, he also had a house in round-the-corner Castle Street where the students lived and dissected bodies, and between the two he built a ‘museum annex’ (think Russian oligarchs adding pools to the Kensington mansions) where his collection was displayed – and used as teaching aids.

My previous experience of body parts in alcohol or formaldehyde had been rather brown shriveled things in dirty brown soup and dusty jars... Think again! The Hunterian has a stunning display and all the items have been re-bottled in clear crystal, in matching though appropriately sized jars and displayed on clear glass shelves – the visual effect is truly beautiful. Even if small animal bodies or human body parts are not your thing (and if you look too long or too closely the experience can indeed get slightly squeamish) the overall effect is a real testament to a man who not only practised surgery (he served with the military) but collected and collated specimens, taught dissection and was interested in researching all aspects of anatomy and physiology. His pupils not only included Copper but also Jenner, the pioneer of vaccination – a science we continue to struggle with today.

While the central atrium of this two-storey museum displays the artefacts in jars the cabinets round the wall are located to match the diseases catalogued and shows the progress of various branches of medicine and surgery. This is what the Museum calls ‘Surgery Transformed’ and ‘Modern Surgery’. The array of implements is impressive – from the barber surgeon’s sword through clunky cutters and braces up to the more recent micro-surgery where operations appear to be carried out via remote control and a headset, known as Minimal Access Surgery (MAS) and now recognised a separate speciality requiring dedicated training . Without proper control of sepsis (infection, thank you  Joseph Lister , not a Scot but trained there) no progress would have been made and the advance of surgery goes hand in hand with advances in infection control, and anaesthesia of course.  (There is rather less about pain control but perhaps we bleeped over this bit)

As the early pioneers honed their craft in warfare the two major conflicts of the 20^th century were also to see advances in plastic surgery particularly. There are excellent displays of the pioneering work of  Harold Gillies, who set up a specialist plastic surgery unit to repair facial injuries at Queen Mary’s Hospital Sidcup (very familiar to Jo and myself as  several key bus routes terminate there). Following his lead came Archibald McIndoe who worked similar skills on facial burn victims from World War II. You might be forgiven for thinking these two were Scots but they turn out to be New Zealanders (but doubtless with some Celtic genes) 

There are more intimate spaces (or smaller galleries) off the main atrium. On the upper floor we found ourselves in the special exhibition space devoted to showing the sketches of Henry Tonks. I recommend Pat Barker’s Life Class for a fictional account of this artist, who interestingly started his working life as a surgeon (steady hand/precision/ accuracy/flair perhaps are transferable skills, though I would not like to see Jackson Pollock as a surgeon...) and then became a teacher at the Slade where he taught just about every First World war artist you have heard of.  The Qvist Gallery features his before-and-after sketches of Gillies patients set beside more recent drawings by Julia Midgley of soldiers in rehabilitation at Headley Court.

The Hunterian, like all museums nowadays, has a ‘hands-on’ section where some exhibits can be looked at more closely and also where links are made between animal anatomy/skeletons and human ones.  A compact gallery shows some of the artwork collected by Hunter who was fascinated by some of the newer species that explorers brought from overseas.  There are two  beautiful  drawings by George Stubbs; the one of a horse skeleton, the next of a well-proportioned horse  exemplifying that to draw from nature you need to observe the underlying structures of creatures.  . Moreover it is said he kept a giraffe at his ‘country house’ in Earls Court. This is not to minimise the importance to the development of all branches of medicine of studying the whole animal kingdom. 

If there is one gap it is looking at the emotional impact of surgery which is after all the most invasive branch of medicine – ‘the surgeon is like an armed savage who attempts to get by force that which any civilised man would get by stratagem’ is what Hunter told his pupils. 

The collection is even greater than what you can see – there are written archives and a huge collection of both animal and human bones and teeth. It is well presented and if you start on the ground floor (which we failed to do because of finding somewhere quiet to sit) you will also get a historical perspective on what preceded Hunter and his inimitable collection housed in the very grand (Charles Barry post Bank of England) College of Surgeons. Entrance is free and the facilities are in keeping with the overall ambience.

Tower of London – Part 1A

Wednesday October 29 2014

Where to begin ? – To be honest we were overwhelmed, though both of us have been here before, so decided to divide writing the account into internal and external aspects of our visit. This meant we were both juggling cameras, books, pens and of course by the end an umbrella.  Additionally we had chosen one of the half-term weeks in order to include the wonderful display of poppies – otherwise known as Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red which by now (last one to go in on 11/11/2014) fill the moat.

The Tower, as we Londoners tend to call it, is undoubtedly a fortification built on an earlier Roman citadel and later chosen as the site upon which William the Conqueror chose to broadcast his conquest – The White Tower is almost square and bold and solid. It dominates the whole complex and for many years must have been visible for miles.  The stone almost certainly came from Normandy, though the masons would have been more home grown.  Before the later towers were built this keep too was used as a prison; with walls 3-4 metres thick it was quite secure. The queue to visit it was significant so we left it for another day….and Jo will be telling you about what there is to see inside – the Armouries as it happens. But by criss-crossing the site we were able to admire it from all sides.

Early Kings needed both a place to live and somewhere which could be guarded and fortified hence the moat, which stayed filled until 1843, by which time it must have been quite smelly. Of course there are and were several (draw) bridges which gave access to the Tower, but some two hundred years after William’s initial building the curtain wall and the intervening little towers (now used as separate exhibition spaces) were added allowing the guarding soldiers to patrol the circumference.  

Jo and I are particularly fond of wall walks (‘I’m the King of the Castle’ springs to mind) and while this one was less engaging than many because of the crowds, what it lacks in intimacy it more than makes up for in the scenery. With the exception of the ghastly Gouoman (sp?) Hotel  you have iconic London on all sides – today both the Gherkin and Shard were cloud shrouded but Tower Bridge, HMS Belfast and the Thames were clearly visible – you can see river and air traffic and today hordes of people peering into the moat. We had assumed the Tower must be one of London’s most visited tourist sites but no – it ranks at Number 8 according to this.

Because the Tower has been added to over the years, because it was home (or palace) to many of the early monarchs but also some of them and their leading courtiers being imprisoned or even beheaded here it also offers a potted history of England.  My knowledge of monarchs before Richard III is pretty sketchy and based on a mixture of Shakespeare, Marlowe and ‘1066 and All That’ so not entirely reliable, For anyone who likes things in order here is the classic school child’s way of remembering the Kings and Queens:    

Willie, Willie, Harry, Steve,

Harry, Dick, John, Harry three;

One, two, three Neds, Richard two

Harrys four, five, six... then who?

Edwards four, five, Dick the bad,

Harrys twain and Ned the Lad;

Mary, Bessie, James the Vain,

Charlie, Charlie, James again...

William and Mary, Anna Gloria,

Four Georges, William and Victoria;

Edward seven next, and then

George the fifth in 1910;

Ned the eighth soon abdicated

Then George the sixth was coronated;

After which Elizabeth

And that's the end until her death.

After Henry VIII the links with the Tower became more symbolic than actually taking up residence and the buildings remained as garrison symbol and strangely a menagerie. Close to Traitors Gate there is a reminder that they used to let the polar bear into the Thames to fish – on a lead apparently!

Different early kings added different bits so gradually the original White Tower was surrounded on four sides by thick wall dotted with intervening towers or turrets of different sizes, not all of which are open to the public.  My 1981 Guide lists twenty, but think of them more as bus shelters on a round walking trip… Some of course are bigger and were lived in, some were store-rooms and some prisons.   Most of the main fortifications were complete by the time of Richard III and the buildings after that were more for comfort and convenience so some quite large houses and eventually in the 17^th -19th centuries some barracks, hospital block and a Museum for the Royal Fusiliers, recently renovated.  

In spite of all this building within the walls there is still room for some green spaces and of course the capacity to absorb the visiting crowds. The greens are close to the chapel, several times rebuilt, and would originally have been burial grounds, but are now more famous as the site of executions held in ‘private’.  The list of ‘famous’ prisoners is long though only a few were actually executed here – let’s just say being a  2^nd/5^th wife to Henry VIII or close relation is a clue..

Always a place for dealing with traitors those shot  (up against the wall at the foot of the Martin Tower) during World WAR II are also remembered , with modern guns in among the steel sculptures of patrolling guards. 

More cossetted than the prisoners the Ravens (wings clipped to stop them from flying off, when, according to legend the Tower will fall) strut their stuff seemingly unphased by the crowds.   

The Tower of London (part 1)

Wednesday 29 October 2014

We wanted to visit the Tower while the poppies were in their glory in the moat, though there are schools of thought which suggest that a rainy half-term day was not the perfect choice.  But we went, and enjoyed it a great deal.  We shall go back as we did not have time or energy for the Bloody Tower and the White Tower, and it is not possible to see the Chapel Royal before 4.30 unless you are with a guided tour.  This means that there will be more than one post about the Tower.  Linda will tell you about the outside spaces, and the art works which embellish them; and we shall return.

The place was very busy but we were there before 10.00 and, on my instigation, made a dash for the crown jewels first, and so there was almost no queue.  When we emerged, the queues were of Alton Towers/Disneyland proportions, snaking for miles.  The jewels are very well displayed, we thought, with plenty of introductory information, film and photographs of coronations, and swords and maces in display cases to keep the crowds occupied till we got to the room.  Then, a moving pavement takes you gently past the actual crowns, sceptres and orbs.  There is no limit to how often you can go back and slide past them again, so we felt we had had a good look.  Our only quibble was that they talked about the 17th century republicans destroying lots of the jewels (almost everything on display here is from 1661 or later) whereas we thought that Charles I had actually pawned quite a lot to raise money for his armies.  The advantage of having an empire full or territory that produced precious stones was abundantly clear!

Next we made our way to what remains of the medieval Palace, with multi media explanations of Henry III and Edward I who did quite a lot of extension building.  The Historic Royal Palaces have done some set dressing here, of the kind that English Heritage does, so the King's bedchamber was furnished with some rather nice wallpaper and a bedside mat, which we thought enhanced the experience.  The tiny turret chapel has been retiled, and it was great to see how luminous such floors must have looked when they were new.

The throne room, which is in the Wakefield Tower, is a handsome, octagonal room, again modestly furnished (ie there is a throne...) with information about the various Plantagenet kings.

We had originally agreed that we would walk the walls (wall walking being a pastime to which we are both much addicted) when the drizzle stopped;  but in fact the route thorough the medieval palace takes you to a bit of wall-walk, which leads to another tower with interesting things in it, and so on until you have walked all the wall there is.  


So we next came to the Salt Tower, where prisoners were once kept, and where some interesting graffiti have been preserved behind perspex, with explanations.  More wall walk brought us to the Broad Arrow Tower, which was dressed as the Guard Room, with the obligatory metal hats to try on, and instructions about being on duty to preserve the Tower, the King, the Kingdom and, no doubt, civilisation as they knew it then. Sounds of battle followed us along the wall to the Constable Tower, which has a model of the tower as it was, with key areas to defend, and lists of the weapons needed by each grade of soldier.


We felt able to skip the Martin Tower, because it houses a history of English Crowns and pictures of all of that we had, of course, seen earlier in all their sparkle.  

The next tower delayed us for some time, as it contained fascinating information and pictures of the Royal Beasts:  the menagerie which was here between 1210 and 1832, when the creatures were moved to the care of ZSL at London Zoo (a mere 6 years after the zoo had been founded, so they must have been pleased to get a few extra animals)

The public were allowed in to see the animals, and the accounts around the walls indicate a serious shortfall in health and safety monitoring: during the eighteenth century a young girl lost her arm (and subsequently died) because a lion objected to her stroking its paw.  The various monkeys were loose, and damage was frequently done to ladies' hats.  It's hard to imagine how extraordinary these animals must have appeared to a public with no visual media.  It was the Duke of Wellington who insisted that the menagerie should be closed.  He was in any case, hostile to the admission of the public into what was meant to be a fortress.

It is fitting that the next display you come to is about the Iron Duke himself, since he was Constable of the Tower for a long time as well as being Prime Minister and war leader against Napoleon and so on.(Incidentally, next year is the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo, so expect much commemorating of that!)  The exhibition about Wellington's life  is illustrated with slides of stages in his career, with a particular focus on his time at the Tower.  He began to employ veterans to guard the Tower, ending the tradition of purchase for these rather cushy positions.  He also had the moat drained during the cholera epidemic of 1843, which was far sighted of him, not least because the link with contaminated water had not yet been established by Dr John Snow.

After a few more metres of the wall walk, we came to the exhibition about the Tower in the  First World War.  It was a centre for recruiting and training, and there were some very interesting archive photographs, enhanced by having a modern civilian (or soldier, or Scout, or Nurse), in colour, added to show where the picture was taken. 


The only annoying thing about this very interesting little exhibition was that  the film of the Artists Rifles in training had been recorded with the projector running too fast.  I do wish people would take the trouble to get things right.  Soldiers of the Great War did not jerk about in a slightly risible way.

Also in this room was a film about the making of the ceramic poppies for the moat.  The artist, Paul Cummins, talked about the people who were working on the project and how long it had taken. 

Finally, we made our way across to the scaffold site, where the modern sculpture which marks where people were executed was hidden by tarpaulins as it was undergoing maintenance, and to the Beauchamp Tower.

This is another area where prisoners were kept, especially those who were not of the 'right' branch of Christianity:  quite a difficult balancing act, after all, with monarchs changing the particular fine tuning much as modern governments fiddle with the school curriculum.  On the other hand, in 1570, the Pope excommunicated the Queen of England, a sort of fatwah inciting Catholics to assassinate her, so imprisonment was not unreasonable.  Some of the inmates were incarcerated for so long that they clearly had plenty of time to carve their feelings and family information into the walls.

If the weather had been better, we should have eaten our sandwiches and gone on to look at more;  but the persistent drizzle and chill made that unattractive and all the Tower's indoor eateries were - of course - heaving with half-termers.  So we agreed to come back another time, and left.  

What did we not see?  Well, we chose to avoid the 'Torture in the Tower' bit, with its straggling queue, and shall return, as I said at the top, for two towers and the chapel.

And the poppies?  we thought they were very moving and beautiful, disagreeing with the art critic of the Guardian who said they were prettified and mawkish.

Alexander Fleming Museum

St Mary's Hospital
Praed Street
London
W2 1NY

Wednesday October  22 2014

This was a solo expedition by Linda while Mary and Jo were doing half-term activities of a more boisterous nature.  It was also partly to honour those ‘back-room ‘ scientists who still work with Petrie dishes and test tubes filled with dangerous substances – yes I’m talking about you the 16 micro-biologists headed for a testing month  in Sierra Leone.

This is also a story of mould, so unwelcome when it appears unwanted on walls and carpets but clearly something with occasional uses.

I strode out of the Bakerloo line exit from Paddington and took a back route to St Mary’s hospital (as signposted) which was NOT the way to go; I filtered my way through out-patients and asked at the hospital refreshment counter (no Costa Coffee here) where the Museum was: what Museum? they asked. Threading my way between the buildings I finally located the Clarence Wing – actually fronting busy Praed Street which was more or less where I had started   On entering it was like stepping into a set from ‘Call the Midwife’ so old-fashioned does it look. I followed the signs round several corridors and up a flight of tiled stone stairs to the Reception/Shop for the Museum. The actual room is kept locked and can only be visited with one of the volunteer escorts who tell you about Fleming’s life and work and the importance of the discovery of penicillin.  

Fleming was born in a farming community in rural Ayrshire and had a very basic education – but he perhaps developed his powers of observation   during these early years. Bored with being a shipping clerk in London he applied to be a surgeon but was turned down.  However, following receiving a small legacy he re-applied and became a medical student at St Mary’s excelling at all his exams. After graduation he joined the department of Bacteriology, headed up by Almroth Wright. The latter was one of those caricature flamboyant physicians (immortalised in Shaw’s Doctor’s Dilemma) who believed passionately in research, especially into typhoid, but not in keeping statistics. He also could not abhor women at work, especially in medicine!!!  His work was in immunisation and this is the department that Fleming joined working on Lysozyme, one of our inbuilt defences against BACTERIA.  From there you probably know the  rest ... that he left his petrie dishes open and went away and returned to find mould had formed on one of them but the microbes/germs/bacteria close to the mould had vanished .

The volunteer will take you up to the second floor where you will see a small workbench with adequate stool seating for two. It has all the paraphernalia you would expect from a 1928 laboratory – racks of test tubes, piles of Petrie dishes, two bunsen burners, an incubator and pipettes. There are three  pretty dirty windows out onto Praed Street. In a side cabinet there are various awards that Fleming received in his life-time and a Scottish £5 note which he adorns. The original Petrie dish apparently is preserved in the British Library. Fleming went on to publish his findings – that the mould penicillin seemed to kill Bacteria – in 1929 and he continued to practise at St Mary’s.  (My mother swears that when she visited another woman from her hostel admitted  to the hospital during the war Dr Fleming was on the wards… who knows.) The problem then was how to manufacture ‘enough' mould to be able to use it to combat sepsis, which was of course the main killer of the times.

Ten years or so later the work continued in Oxford where two overseas researchers Howard Florey (from New Zealand) and Ernst Chain (from Germany) worked on the manufacture and further application of penicillin. The start of the war added impetus (and money) to the research project with the thinking being that wounded service personnel could be saved and turned round to fight again – by D-Day there was enough penicillin for every combatant.

There is no photography allowed in the laboratory but you will be escorted up a further level to a smaller back room where there is a short film sponsored and produced by one of the major pharmaceutical companies, who in a former incarnation doubtless made money after contributing to the development of a manufactured strain. The website leaflet very much turns the spotlight on Fleming but to be fair the film, with some good archive footage, gives due credit to a range of other chemists, biologists and doctors who all helped to pioneer the safe use of one of the 20^th century ‘s undoubted life savers. At one point they were 'harvesting' second hand penicillin from soldiers prescribed it (don't ask). Public recognition came in the shape  of a Nobel prize for all three men. 

The film (20 years old) pre-dates the  research showing us that over- use and over prescription  or failing to finish  a course of treatment  has led the bacteria to evolve greater resistance than they showed in 1928…so the story is not entirely finished.

A short but intense museum experience. 

PS Relying on scientists to correct any factual errors that may have crept in.... please.