Red valerian and red sandstone

I was born, and brought up, in Paignton, one of the three towns that make up Torbay, and, despite leaving in 1968, I have a strong attachment to my roots in South Devon. Unfortunately, I get few opportunities to visit but, very close to where I live currently, in Berkhamsted, there is a patch of flowers (see below) that instantly brings back memories from over fifty years ago. 

Red valerian is a very common plant in the south west, being a widely-dispersed introduction from its native Mediterranean region – appropriate, given that Torbay prides itself on bring the English Riviera. It probably arrived as a garden plant and is described by Clapham Tutin and Warburg [1] as being ”abundantly naturalised on old walls, cliffs, etc. particularly in the south and west.” It certainly has the ability to thrive where conditions look unsuitable for plant life and its establishment can be a threat to the fabric of old buildings [2].

My recollection of red valerian is the strong colour combinations that its pink flowers and green leaves make with the red sandstone that is the underlying rock of the central part of Torbay and which was used extensively for building construction. Technically described as a sandstone breccia conglomerate, this rock, exposed at Roundham Head, for example (see below), has been used in building houses and walls in Paignton since mediaeval times [3]. I lived in Polsham Park (the cul-de-sac road), part of the Polsham Park Estate designed by W.G.Goudrey and George Soudron Bridgman, and constructed in the last decade of the Nineteenth Century [3]. This was 50 years after the building boom in Torquay, where many villas were in an Italianate style, to reflect houses of the Mediterranean Riviera. 

The buildings of the Polsham Park Estate were dressed in brick – ours were cream in colour – but the sandstone was unforuately suject to weathering, as anyone looking at Roundham Head, and other coastal promontories, readily appreciates. As our house had a verandah, one of the jobs that I helped with was the sweeping up of the red dust that accumulated on the tiles (red, of course) that were used as flooring. Nowadays, the appearance of many of the houses has been altered by the extensive use of PVC replacement windows, and roofing other than slate, the Conservation Report [3] stating that “almost overwhelmingly the workmanship is inferior in design and materials: artificial slate and PVC glazing are almost universal replacements.” Two recent images of houses on the Estate are shown below:

When I lived in this area of Paignton, it was little changed from its original condition, but that wasn’t important to me. What I enjoyed, was being able to run along Polsham Park (the road) to Victoria Park (the entrance to which is shown below) where I could play on the swings, slide and roundabouts, run around on the “pitches”, or go at top speed along the path by the railway line to exit within easy walking distance of the railway station, there to indulge in my favourite pastime of trainspotting. Much of the park was completed in 1894, with the boating pond (see below in a separate image), where I sailed my elderly, re-painted yacht, completed in 1895 [3]. The “pitches” next to the main road to the west were previously the Victoria Nurseries and were added to the Park in the first half of the twentieth Century.

None of this was known to me either, and which child would be interested in such things? Now that I am much older, and enjoy nostalgia, it is all fascinating to discover the history of what was so familiar in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Certainly, the combination of red valerian and red sandstone remain powerful triggers for memories of the joys of childhood and an appreciation of the “respectable” part of the town that was once my home.

[1] A.R.Clapham, T.G.Tutin and E.F.Warburg (1959) Excursion Flora of the British Isles. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

[2] R. Motti, G. Bonanomi and A. Stinca (2021) Biodeteriogens at a southern Italian Heritage site: Analysis and management of vascular flora on the walls of Villa Rufalo. International Biodeterioration & Biodegradation 162 https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ibiod.2021.105252

[3] https://www.torbay.gov.uk/media/7583/polsham-caa.pdf

 

Connections: Henry Gosse, Charles Waterton and the Peales of Philadelphia

Henry Gosse, having given up the idea of farming in Canada, decided to travel south, writing: “My eye is set towards Georgia or South Carolina, as I understand persons of education are in demand there, both in mercantile and academical situations.” ¹ By 26th March 1838, Henry had reached Philadelphia:

It was in Philadelphia that he first enjoyed the sympathy and help of genuine men of science. At the museum in Chestnut Street, he met Mr Titian R. Peale, a local zoological artist of considerable eminence, who charmed him at once, and surprised him by his deferential civility and his instinctive recognition of this grim-featured, unknown youth [Henry was weeks away from his 28th birthday] as one destined to be “somebody”. Mr Peale was just then starting as the artist of an exploring exhibition to the South Seas, under Lieutenant Charles Wilkes, and he was particularly interested in the exquisite drawings of insects which Philip [Henry] Gosse had brought from Canada. ¹

Titian Peale was ten years older than Henry and he was the youngest son of Charles Willson Peale, the founder of the original Peale Museum. Titian inherited his father’s love of both Natural History and painting and his passion was for butterflies and moths, thus his interest in Henry’s drawings (Titian's collection of Lepidoptera was subsequently donated to the Academy of Natural Sciences and can be seen today). ² During the conversations between Henry and Titian about Natural History, there is likely to have been reference to the visit to the Peale Museum of another Englishman, Charles Waterton, fourteen years before. This is part of Charles’ account of that visit:

When you go to Philadelphia, be sure not to forget to visit the Museum. It will afford you a great treat. Some of Mr [Charles Willson] Peale’s family are constantly in it, and are ever ready to show the curiosities to strangers, and to give them every necessary information. Mr Peale has now passed his eightieth year, and appears to possess the vivacity, and I may almost add, the activity of youth. To the indefatigable exertions of this gentleman, is the western world indebted for the possession of this splendid Museum. Mr Peale is, moreover, an excellent artist. ³

Like Henry Gosse, Charles Waterton had been a keen observer of the natural world since boyhood, but this common interest was one of the few similarities between the two men. Interestingly, the lives of both were dominated by their religious beliefs: for Henry Gosse, his complete trust in the literal truth of The Bible; for Charles Waterton, his Catholic faith and profound respect for the teachings of Jesuits. Although both men were writers, and could convey what they saw to readers with enthusiasm, they had different practical skills. Henry was a gifted artist and illustrator, while Charles perfected his own method of taxidermy, a subject that was of interest to Titian Peale who also practised in this field.

Having researched and written about the life of Henry Gosse, ⁴ it seemed natural for me to visit “Sandhurst”, his home in Torquay from 1857-1888. Of course, it had changed substantially, but I still felt something of the spirit of the man around the main building there. As I am currently writing about Charles Waterton, I decided to visit his home, Walton Hall, now part of the Waterton Park Hotel in Yorkshire. Better than that, I was able to stay in the Hall itself and it was easy to imagine its rather grand staircase with cases containing various preserved animals fixed to the outside of the banister rail. It was also easy to imagine Charles Waterton and his ascetic life here, sleeping with open windows at all times of year and not in a bed but on the floor, with a block for a pillow. Fortunately, the Hall is no longer infested with "Hanoverian rats", as it was in Charles' day.

 Walton Hall

The staircase at Walton Hall

There is much too much to Charles Waterton for a single blog post, for he was a most interesting man and a free sprit, being given a chapter of his own in Edith Sitwell’s The English Eccentrics. ⁵ One aspect of the man, however, can be mentioned and that was his pioneering interest in conservation. He had a high wall built around the Walton Hall estate, which then became a refuge for wild animals, free from intruding humans and other predators. It is said that Charles knew all the trees on the estate and, as he was an avid tree climber, this was not only from ground level. He took delight in seeing animals moving about freely and safely and, like many conservationists, he also enhanced areas to be especially favourable to some bird and mammal species. When he was not travelling, Charles spent much of his time watching the comings and goings and he was an excellent and patient field naturalist.

 Part of the wall surrounding Walton Hall estate

Unfortunately, the estate became polluted by effluent and toxic fumes from a nearby soap works and Charles fought court battles to have it closed down, finally offering the works owner a financial inducement to re-locate to a site some distance away. This allowed the estate to recover from the worst of the effects of the pollutants and, lest one think it was all a private obsession, it should be pointed out that Charles allowed access to local people and welcomed visitors who shared his passions.

Walton Hall estate today

Much of the Walton Hall estate is now a golf course and many of the trees have been cut down as a result. The Hall itself is not only a hotel but a popular wedding venue and I wonder how many people that visit are aware of the remarkable man who lived there in the nineteenth century? There are several biographies of Charles Waterton, one of them, ironically, being by Philip Gosse, ⁶ the grandson of Henry Gosse and the son of Edmund. A further irony is that Charles Waterton also had an only child whom he named Edmund and, in another parallel to Edmund Gosse, was quite different to his father in almost every way, although they shared a strong Catholic faith. Edmund Gosse went on to become an Establishment figure, without his father’s unshakeable evangelical Christian faith, while Edmund Waterton liked luxury, the trappings of privilege and the gaudier aspects of Roman Catholic ceremony and power. In the end, his expensive way of life meant that Walton Hall had to be sold and, to add yet another level of irony, the purchaser was Edward Simpson, the eldest son of the owner of the original soap works with whom Charles had fought the legal battles. ⁷

It is unfortunate that we only have one good likeness of Charles Waterton, although there are numerous descriptions of his habits and appearance. This likeness hangs in the National Portrait Gallery in London and was painted by Charles Willson Peale during Charles Waterton’s visit to Philadelphia in 1824. Having looked closely at this picture, I find it captures what I know of the man and also of his passion for taxidermy and Natural History. Like Henry Gosse, he was a remarkable character and perhaps not as eccentric as Edith Sitwell ⁵ would have us believe.

¹ Edmund Gosse (1896) The Naturalist of the Sea-Shore: The Life of Philip Henry Gosse. London, William Heinemann.

² http://clade.ansp.org/entomology/collections/peale/

³ Charles Waterton (1973) Wanderings in South America, the North-West of the United States, and the Antilles, in the years 1812, 1816, 1820 and 1824 with original instructions for the perfect preservation of birds and for cabinets of natural history. London, Oxford University Press.

⁴ Roger S Wotton (2012) Walking with Gosse: Natural History, Creation and Religious Conflicts. Southampton, Clio Publishing.

⁵ Edith Sitwell (1933) English Eccentrics. London, Faber and Faber.

⁶ Philip Gosse (1940) The Squire of Walton Hall: The Life of Charles Waterton. London, Cassell.

⁷Julia Blackburn (1989) Charles Waterton 1782-1865: Traveller and Conservationist. London, The Bodley Head.

 

P.S. Just to demonstrate Charles Willson Peale's love of art and artists, Titian had three brothers named Raphaelle, Rembrandt and Rubens. There were 16 children altogether.

 

Rock pools, restoration and Creationists

Looking in seashore rock pools always thrilled me as a child and my fascination with Aquatic Biology started during many visits to the shores of Torbay. I always followed an instruction from a book that stones in rock pools should be replaced in the same position, and with the same side upwards, as they were an important shelter and substratum. The idea was to look, see as much as possible, and then return the habitat to its natural state and this was an early lesson in conservation. The visits provided me with strong and lasting memories of what seemed like a primeval world, especially at the lowest spring tides.

Enticingly, some pools had large stones in them and turning these over was the best way to see many types of fish, crabs and other animals; the more obvious types that appeal strongly to children. I was also intrigued by sea anemones and the way they extended their tentacles while under water and then contracted them, together with the anterior of the body, when the tide went out. I never saw them catch anything, but there was always the thought that I might.

A hundred years before my explorations, Henry Gosse, an expert on sea anemones, had collected in some of the same rock pools in South Devon, although his sampling was aided by the use of a hammer and chisel when he was collecting specimens for aquaria. He was thus not the careful conservationist that I was attempting to be, but he was certainly aware of the much greater damage that humans could do to shores. In his first visit to St Marychurch, Torquay, Henry developed a fondness for one location at Oddicombe:

The tidal basin became one of the most constant of his haunts, and he nourished a jealous and almost whimsical affection for it, suffering from a constant fear that its crystal beauty might be profaned. Every day the high tide renewed its freshness, and then, retreating, left the basin to settle into glassy calm.. ..Strangely enough, this exquisite little freak of nature survived, untouched, for nearly twenty years after its discovery. At last, one day when my father climbed up to look into it, behold! Some thrice-wretched vandal had chiselled a channel on the seaward side, not very deep indeed, but enough to destroy its unique regularity of form. He never went to it again. ¹

Human interference thus ruined the feeling Henry had for this large pool and he would have been more accepting if the erosion had been natural. Even though he was a profound Creationist, Henry knew that the erosive power of the sea changed coasts. He may even have seen these changes as a form of “geological evolution” [not his term], just as we now know that sea levels have been affected by glaciation and are likely to be affected by anthropogenic global warming. Oddicombe, the area where Henry’s tidal basin was located, has recently been altered further by the action of landslides, emphasising that coastal erosion can come from the landward side as well as the seaward.

All of us are familiar with the notion of an idealised location, like Henry’s tidal basin and my rock pools, and we do not take kindly to anything that changes that idea, especially when it is caused by human interference. It may be a wood, a meadow, a stream, or another habitat that has become heavily impacted by tree felling, farming, or canalisation. Yet, we know that change is inevitable with our growing population size and that is why there is a pressing need to conserve and restore habitats. Interestingly, restoration is usually to a state representative of the recent past rather than a pre-human condition. This is logical for Creationists, as they believe that humans came into existence only days after the first living organisms but, for those that accept that humans have been on Earth for a tiny fraction of the time that life has existed, one might expect that there would be acceptance of restoration to the pre-human state. Is that achievable - or desirable?

¹ Edmund Gosse (1890) The naturalist of the sea-shore: the life of Philip Henry Gosse. London, William Heinemann.