Hello People,
Today I’m in Covent Garden 1924AD. But first I’d like to talk about West Norwood Cemetery SE27, which I visited a few weeks ago.
Cemeteries are the one place on earth where everyone gets on. I’ve visited my fair share, and I’ve never met anyone who wanted to move, or complained about their neighbours. It’s also a great place to go if you want to meet interesting people.
Said to be the first cemetery built in the Gothic style - by which I’m referring to the architectural style of the original monuments and chapels - the cemetery builders did not wear black eye liner and listen to the Cure while they worked.
Established in 1836, to deal with the overcrowding in London’s chapel graveyards, West Norwood is one of seven large, privately owned suburban cemeteries opened between 1833-1841 that have come to be known as ‘The magnificent Seven.’ Interesting fact, if the cemeteries were characters of the cult 1960’s Western due to their order of appearance, then West Norwood would be Vin Tanner, aka Steve McQueen!
The cemetery is built on a hill, which conveniently puts you closer to heaven, and it lies on top of the hidden river Effra which snakes through Dulwich, Brixton, Kennington, Vauxhall and into the Thames.
There’s a legend that in Victorian times a coffin was discovered floating up the Thames which was traced back to West Norwood Cemetery. It’s assumed the grave had been dug too close to the tunnel of the river. The coffin was returned, but the owner fined for not having ‘tapped in’ at the beginning of their journey.
King Cnut is said to have sailed up the river Effra in his 1016 conquest of England during the famous Battle of the Potentially Risky names. Defeating Roger Fkucs army in the battle of Schithouse. Second interesting fact, King Cnuts father was called Forkbeard, but he invented neither fork nor beard.
There are many famous people buried in West Norwood Cemetery. There's C.W. Alcock. He invented both Test Cricket and the FA Cup! Before his crucial intervention men actually talked to each other about there lives and not sport.
There’s Georg Karl Julius Hackenschmidt, a professional wrestler, recognised as the sports first professional heavyweight champion. He used to drink 11 pints of milk a day to maintain his weight, and as a boy would train by lifting small horses in his native Georgia, and he invented the bear hug, even before bears did!
There’s Sister Eliza Roberts, who was Florence Nightingale's principal nurse during the Crimean War. William Marsden, an English surgeon who founded the Royal Free Hospital and the Royal Marsden Hospital. Sugar magnet and founder of the Tate Museum Sir Henry Tate. Sir Henry Bressimer and many more.
Thanks to my magical time travelling spanner I’ve had the chance to meet them all, and loved it, with the exception of when Georg accidentally dropped a small horse on me.
However my favourite historical figure in West Norwood Cemetery is Eliza James, known as the Watercress Queen (1855-1927). A name she earned by having the largest Watercress empire in the whole of Europe. It is said to have been so vast, that the sun never set on it, except at night.
In Victorian England watercress was seen as a staple food for the workers. Sellers - usually girls as young as five or elderly women struggling to get by - would sell it in bunches on the streets, as a cheap and very nutritious breakfast. It came to be known as ‘poor mans bread.’ It was the Egg McMuffin if it’s day!
Born in Birmingham in 1855, she began selling watercress to support her family after the suicide of her father. Her journey seems to have been a tough one. She married and had five children, with a man who was violently abusive. She was stabbed by him on three occasions, and when she attempted to get a divorce, he threatened to kill her. He was imprisoned in 1897. This sentence most probably saved her life, and allowed her to start a new one with a man called James Fleet who she married. They and their children moved to London, where the streets where paved with gold, and the potential to sell watercress.
The opening of the Mid-Hampshire Railway in 1865, connected the Hampshire watercress growers to the busy streets of London. This meant watercress could be sold fresh, and came to be in big demand.
Sadly, that demand did not mean that all got their fair share of the profits. Wholesalers often drove prices so high that the sellers - many just children - struggled to make any profit at all. It was here that Eliza was to prove that her business acumen was every bit as impressive as her determination.
Setting up her business ‘James’s & Son’s.’ Getting a stall in Covent Garden. Diversifying her business to sell to shops, restaurants and hotels as well as passing trade, and investing wisely in her own cress farms. She worked on her Covent Garden stall all her life despite her eventual wealth. Arriving each morning on the back of her son-in-laws watercress cart.
By today’s standards she amassed many millions. A fortune which would have easily gotten her an episode on The Secret Millionaire, and probably a seat on Dragons Den too.
I went to Covent Garden 1924AD to meet the great lady. Her rags to riches story is inspirational, and I desperately wanted to ask her a few questions, and to see if she's lend me any money.
I found the Covent Garden of then very different to the one I know. Full of stalls selling fresh fruit, vegetables, flowers. Not a juggler or human statue in sight.
It didn’t take me long find Eliza. She was just as I’d pictured her, a small, elderly, formidable looking women, swamped in a thick fur coat wearing a Cloche hat adorned with flowers busily tending her stall.
I picked out a juicy bunch of watercress from one of the display baskets and joined the back of the queue, hoping to get a chance to talk to Eliza upon my purchase.
The queue was fairly long and I hadn’t eaten breakfast so was quite hungry. I had a nibble. It was delicious, fresh and surprisingly peppery. Before I knew it I’d eaten the whole thing. This was not a problem of course as I fully intended to pay for my meal, however once at the front of the queue, and upon taking out my bank card, I discovered Eliza’s stall was not set up for contactless payment.
I had no coins on me, and was left in the rather embarrassing situation of not being able to pay. I assured dear old Eliza that I would go away and return with the appropriate coinage, but she did not seem inclined to take me at my word.
Then Eliza did the most incredible thing. Without us breaking eye contact, she held out two outstretched palms, and slowly raised them upwards to the sky. As she did this, the leafs of the bunched water cress began to slowly rise, pulling their green stalks behind them. When her hands stopped rising, the cress also stopped. With the ends of stalks touching the baskets and the leaves suspended in the air so they gave the appearance of being little trees. I waved a hand over the now upright cress to see how this trick had been accomplished, but there was no string? And if there was no string, then the leaves could not have been pulled up? Instead the only explanation was that the heads of the watercress had been lifted up! Like a man lying down would lift his head when standing! Yes, that was it, the cress had somehow, against the laws which govern our reality, stood up! It seems that Eliza had somehow developed the ability to control watercress with her mind. She truly was the watercress queen!
I stared dumbfounded, then herd her say “Go on my pretties.” Upon which tiny bunches of watercress slowly moved towards me. Then one by one the little green menaces leapt on me. More and more till their weight caused my legs to buckle and I fell to the floor.
I looked around for aid, but everyone had either left or fled. Once on the floor I felt my body shift. I was being dragged away rhythmically. The little cress people sang a song to stay in time with each other, pulling as one at the end of each line.
“We’re mean,
we’re green,
we’re high in vitamin C.
We’re mean,
we’re green,
we’re high in vitamin C...”
Over and over...
I plead for my life, “Eliza! Dear God! Have mercy! I can wire the money into you’re account if you send me your details! Have you set up PayPal?!!”
But my pleads were ignored. The watercress dragged me into an ally, beat me to within an inch of my life, and threw me into the river Thames with concrete set around my feet.
Fortunately the concrete was also made with watercress so came apart instantly in the water. Allowing me to swim away to safety.
I guess you have to be a tough character to survive in business.
Next time I’ll be somewhere in SE4. If you have any ideas where I should visit then I’d love to here them.
Till next time!
28D
