Frankenstein – from Mary Shelley to the movies!

In the year 1818, a female author Mary Shelley published a novel that would prove to be one of the landmarks of the horror genre for the next two hundred years. Frankenstein was the terrifying account of a Swiss doctor by that name who creates a monster made of human body parts harvested in cemeteries and dissecting rooms. Shelley’s novel was an instant success and soon became a theatre play before being taken up by the movies in the early 20th century.

Shelley herself admitted to lacking the confidence to write even though both her parents were famous scribblers. Her father, William Godwin, was a radical political journalist. Her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, was an early feminist writer. Mary married the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley who, to his credit, encouraged his wife to put pen to paper. Her feverish imagination had already created Frankenstein in her head – what she needed was the self-belief to write it down.

Frankenstein in the words of Mary Shelley

The Frankenstein novel begins with a ship in the frozen Arctic north chancing upon two sledges speeding across the ice. The passengers are Doctor Frankenstein and his gigantic monster. The ship captain quizzes the doctor to find out exactly what is going on. It turns out that this man of medicine has been mixing science with alchemy and the occult. The result in his laboratory is an eight-foot monster built of various dead human parts stitched together.

Having breathed life into this creature, Doctor Frankenstein then promptly rejects him. Finding himself not wanted by anybody – the monster’s fury rises to boiling point. He embarks on a string of murders that includes those close to his creator including the doctor’s brother, best friend, and wife.

The last of these murders is revenge against the doctor who had promised the monster a female companion but then torn her to pieces in a fit of regret and thrown the body parts in a lake. This was the final straw for the monster. Condemned to miserable solitude – what else could he do but lash out?

DISCOVER MORE: The London of The Frankenstein Chronicles

Why Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein

The story of how Frankenstein came to be written has become something of a legend. A byword for Regency decadence fuelled by alcohol and opiates. Mary Shelley, her husband Percy, Lord Byron, and a hanger-on called Doctor Polidori are holed up in a Swiss villa on a stormy night in 1816. They tell ghost stories to each other and out of this long night of mayhem emerges two great horror stories: The Vampyre by Lord Byron and Polidori – and Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.

This party was depicted in the 1986 movie Gothic directed by Ken Russell.

In an 1831 newspaper interview as she produced a new edition of Frankenstein, Mary Shelley verified this account of how her novel came to be written. Her ambition had been to create a story “which would speak to the mysterious fears of our nature, and awake thrilling horror – one to make the reader dread to look around, to curdle the blood, and quicken the beatings of the heart”.

Shelley says she was aware of “Galvanism”, which I’ve blogged about elsewhere. In short, the use of electricity to make human beings appear to return to life. The humans in question were normally executed criminals whose bodies were provided to anatomists. They then passed electric currents through the corpse thrilling audiences as dead person’s eyes opened and their limbs twitched.

I say ‘audiences’ because medical operations in the 1830s were performed in front of a crowd who might be medical students and doctors but could equally have paid for admittance – and a thrill.

FIND OUT MORE: Galvanism – Frankenstein science in the early 19th century

Frankenstein parts company with the Mary Shelley novel

By the middle of the 19th century, the Frankenstein story was already parting company with Mary Shelley’s version. Stage plays introduced new characters and steadily dropped the melancholic, philosophical ramblings of the monster in favour of terrifying campy fun. So, The Observer newspaper on 30 December, 1849 reports on a new Frankenstein theatre production that I’m guessing was Christmas entertainment for London theatregoers at the Adelphi Theatre.

Two years later in 1851, Mary Shelley died with her obituaries acknowledging that Frankenstein would be her everlasting memorial – as has proven to be the case. But the adaptations of her novel got progressively sillier becoming fodder for pantomime. In 1887, the Gaiety Theatre in London put on a Christmas ‘burlesque’ of Frankenstein with a female actor playing the doctor and a very camped up monster. The audience hated it.

The actors were well-known faces. The costumes and staging were brilliant – according to contemporary accounts. But the rowdy London theatre crowd were booing loudly before the curtain had even risen. Why? It’s hard to know now. At the same time, other theatres were putting on pantomime versions of much loved stories including Robinson Crusoe. But – it seems the Gaiety theatregoers wanted to be terrified and not amused by Frankenstein.

Movies take different directions on Frankenstein

The 1910 silent movie Frankenstein was pretty much an extension of the theatre burlesque productions captured for the cinema by the Edison film studio. In 1931, the English actor Boris Karloff gave us the square-headed, bolts-in-the-neck, grunting and groaning monster we now associate with the character. At the same time, the Hungarian actor Bela Lugosi was shaping Dracula for the movies with the cape and eastern European drawl. Hollywood was moulding these horror genre characters to its own liking.

That said – subsequent movie versions of Frankenstein either continued the camp horror tradition or endeavoured to swing back towards the Mary Shelley vision. The latter approach includes my personal favourite which is the 1973 movie, Frankenstein: The True Story. The screenplay was written by the veteran LGBT poet Christopher Isherwood and his partner Don Bachardy.

It introduces the idea of Frankenstein’s monster being created handsome but then a defect in the scientific process renders his appearance increasingly hideous. This arouses all our fears about ageing and losing our looks. I think it’s a very smart variation on Mary Shelley’s original tale.

The Anarchist assassination of President McKinley

Everybody knows about the assassination of two US Presidents: Abraham Lincoln in 1865 and John F Kennedy in 1963. But what about President William McKinley on 14 September, 1901? Shot at point-blank range by an anarchist called Leon Czolgosz and dying of his wounds just over a week later. As we move into a stormy political period worldwide, this assassination is the one we should all know about.

The murder of McKinley was part of a global wave of assassinations that claimed top political leaders including McKinley. Other victims of the anarchists included the King of Italy, President of France, Tsar of Russia, King of Greece, and the Empress of Austria. In 1920, an anarchist bomb detonated on Wall Street, the financial heart of New York, killed 38 people. The worst terrorist atrocity in the city until 9/11.

In the 1890s and up until the 1920s, there were secret anarchist cells operating on American soil planning attacks in the United States and around the world. The successful plot to kill the King of Italy, Umberto I, in 1900 was hatched in New Jersey and implemented by an Italian-American called Gaetano Bresci, who travelled to Italy to carry out the murderous deed.

The assassination of President McKinley was carried out by a working-class Polish American, Leon Czolgosz, who was known to some of the leading anarchists in the United States including Emma Goldman – a globally recognised figure at the time. Czolgosz may have carried out the crime as a lone operator to prove his worth to comrades, some of whom thought he was an ‘agent provocateur’ in the pay of the police. Or he may have been directed by other anarchists.

DISCOVER: The eight assassination attempts on Queen Victoria

Ten facts about the anarchist assassination of President William McKinley

Here are ten facts about the McKinley assassination that you might not know:

  1. Newspapers had been warning of an anarchist-inspired attack on the President for weeks before. One senior police officer thought the same anarchist cell behind the killing of King Umberto of Italy was planning to murder McKinley.
  2. President McKinley’s killer – the anarchist Leon Czolgosz – was suspected by his fellow anarchists of being a police spy.
  3. Czolgosz hid his gun in a handkerchief and in a major security breach fire at very close range at McKinley.
  4. An African-American called James Benjamin Parker, born to enslaved parents in 1857 in Atlanta, Georgia stopped Czolgosz firing a third shot into McKinley and his heroism led to public call for a statute to be erected of Parker. Sadly he died in poverty six years later.
  5. Anarchists were rounded up across the United States after the death of President McKinley including the infamous Emma Goldman described as the “queen of anarchism”
  6. President McKinley loved meeting the public and boasted he could shake fifty hands a minute
  7. McKinley removed one of the bullets that Czolgosz had fired himself as he was being stretchered out as that bullet had glanced off his suit buttons while the other had penetrated his abdomen and would kill him
  8. The President urged his security detail to stop beating Czolgosz after the shooting
  9. The assassination happened at the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York state, and there was an early X-Ray machine being used as a fun exhibit but it was not deployed by medical staff to find the bullet lodged deep in the President
  10. Czolgosz was condemned to the electric chair but a film widely circulated on YouTube purporting to show his execution is actually a re-enactment with an actor produced by Thomas Edison’s film company. His last words before the volts were fired through his body were: “I killed the President because he was the enemy of the good people – the good working people. I am not sorry for my crime.

This YouTube film below that I presented, directed and produced tells most of the story of the McKinley assassination. Below it, I share even more salacious details – including questions we have to ask about the personal lives of and psychology of these anarchists.

The ceaseless slayings by anarchist assassins had experts scratching their heads. What was motivating these killers? Psychology was in its infancy. Months before McKinley’s death, Professor Cesare Lombroso at the University of Turin published a study that reads today more like a tabloid newspaper rant than a serious analysis. He called the anarchist assassins “moral madmen, half-educated, or not educated at all”.

He took aim specifically at Luigi Luccheni, a fellow Italian who had murdered the Empress Elizabeth of Austria in 1898 with a knife while she was taking a stroll in the Swiss city of Geneva. Professor Lombroso pointed to Luccheni’s troubled childhood as “the son of a tippling priest of unsteady mind, and of a servant”. Raised in a foundling asylum, then farmed out to various foster parents, followed by a period of begging. And he was epileptic. Seemingly “gentle natured” and kind to children. Nevertheless a terrible anger was building up inside him.

Luccheni “feels the breath of anarchy” – Lombroso wrote – which he believes can “avenge his many grievances”. This is a recognised pattern in radicalisation today. Grievance creates a cognitive opening for terrorist ideology which legitimises and enables violent action. He stabbed the Empress. After his arrest, Luccheni claimed he would have killed any aristocrat who crossed his path that day “even if she had been a little baby”.

At his trial, Luccheni demanded the death penalty. He wanted to die. Professor Lombroso concluded that “his homicide is nothing except an indirect suicide”. What law enforcement today calls ‘suicide by cop’ when an individual knowingly provokes the police into a deadly response to kill themselves. Lombroso noted this character trait in many of the anarchist assassins of his time.

But then Lombroso took a weirder turn in his analysis. Not only was Luccheni suicidal (he did go on to hang himself in jail), but he was…”in temperament a homosexual”. Worse – a homosexual with epilepsy! This is of course wildly offensive today. Lombroso’s theory is that anarchists like Luccheni swung between criminality and anarchy. He could tell what phase Luccheni was in by his handwriting – going from “small and feminine characters” (presumably in his homosexual/anarchist phase) to criminality, when his handwriting got bigger and more butch!

Lombroso characterised anarchists as something akin to werewolves who kill in a trance-like state and then have to sleep it off. As for the epilepsy: “Epilepsy, moreover, is extremely frequent among anarchists, and one might say that it was the basis of action among the bomb-throwing anarchists”. The debate about the relationship between mental illness and radicalisation into terrorism is still very live today but experts are more careful about how they frame the issue.

This is an image of Luccheni under arrest below looking very pleased with himself.

The contemporary debate about the motivations of anarchist killers threw up some crazy ideas. Madame De Thebes, a Paris-based palmist, was sure that the answer lay in examining the shape of anarchists’ hands. She had examined the hands of several anarchist assassins and noted marked similarities.

The hand of a standard murderer is less detailed than an ordinary hand because the lines indicating love, long life, and domestic happiness are not there apparently. Neither are the raised mounts that tell of success and “worthy ambition”. But the politically motivated murderer, Madame De Thebes observed “has a less brutal hand than the ordinary murderer”.

Although the Parisian palmist had nothing good to say about the hand of Italian-born, French resident Sante Geronimo Caserio – an anarchist who successfully stabbed President Marie François Sadi Carnot to death in 1894 and was guillotined for his crime. His hand was “repellent” with four fingers of almost equal length and a thumb that was “strong, heavy, and brutal”. In a diagram reproduced below, De Thebes was most insistent that a murderer’s was invariably “short and thick”.

If you enjoy my video on anarchist assassinations – it is part of a playlist on YouTube about terrorists in history so do watch some of the others that cover everybody from Jesus Christ to Guy Fawkes.

LGBT Roman Emperors – the facts!

It’s surprising just how many Roman Emperors could be defined in today’s terms as LGBT. So, what are the stories and can we confirm the facts two thousand years later. Well, let’s go through a list of Roman Emperors who were in same-sex relationships and were very definitely non-binary. It’s a jaw-dropping list!

Kicking off the LGBT Roman Emperors list…with Julius Caesar

Julius Caesar: The Roman poet Catullus sarcastically commented that Caesar was “the husband to every woman and the wife to every man”. As a young man, the future dictator of Rome spent time on military campaigns in Asia Minor (modern Turkey). The kingdom of Bithynia was a client state of the empire and Julius spent what was widely felt to be an inordinate period of time with its ruler, King Nicomedes IV.

Much older than Julius Caesar – and unfavourably portrayed as a lecherous geriatric ruling in the decadent East and coveting the youthful Roman. This sexual liaison was used as propaganda back in Rome against the ambitious Caesar. Suggesting that he had gone ‘native’ while out in the East and succumbed to all that sleaze and corruption. Allowing himself to be used as the plaything of an oriental despot.

Years later, the Bithynia episode led to a bawdy ditty being sung by the legions as they marched along: Gallias Caesar subegit, Caesarem Nicomedes. Which roughly translates as “Caesar laid Gaul while Nicomedes lay Caesar”. This annoyed Caesar so much that he swore on oath that there had never been a sexual relationship between him and the King of Bithynia. That didn’t stop Caesar being referred to behind his back as the Queen of Bithynia.

The Roman historian Suetonius was convinced the twenty year old Caesar shared a bed with the king and that – horror of horrors – he was the passive partner. Something an elite Roman would find unforgivable. By all means have a dalliance with another man – but always be the dominant party. Suetonius – who was quite a bitchy writer – referred to Caesar competing against the real Queen of Bithynia for the king’s affections: paelicem reginae, spondam interiorem regiae lecticae.

DISCOVER: Famous LGBT Muslims in history

Julio-Claudian LGBT Roman Emperors

All the first emperors of the so-called Julio-Claudian dynasty could have been classified as LGBT if contemporary sources and later writers are to be believed:

Emperor Augustus: The first acknowledged emperor of Rome is well-known for his tough laws on adultery and promiscuity. His legal prudishness even led to the banishment of his own daughter, Julia, to the island of Pandateria and the exile of the licentious poet, Ovid. But Augustus may have been over-compensating for the swirl of LGBT related rumours and accusations that dogged his youth.

Augustus was known as Octavian before becoming emperor. His rival for political power was the Roman alpha male, Mark Antony. On his coins, Mark Antony has the bearing of an American football quarterback or a rugby scrum half. In contrast, this Roman jock depicted Octavian as effeminate and incapable of military and political leadership. But Mark Antony went way further than that.

Through his brother, Lucius Antonius, Mark Antony accused Octavian of being the passive partner when having sex with a consul called Aulus Hirtius who reportedly paid the young Octavian for the experience. Octavian was also said to have cemented his alliance with Julius Caesar in between the sheets. All the more scandalous as Caesar adopted Octavian as his son and heir.

As we know, Octavian would go on to defeat all his enemies – including Mark Antony – and adopt the title Augustus. With almost absolute power, Augustus posed as the defender of ancient Roman morals.

For instance, he was once informed that a Roman actor called Stephanio was parading around the streets with a page-boy who it turned out was a married woman with her hair cut short. The scandalised Augustus had Stephanio whipped in three of Rome’s main theatres – those built by Pompey, Marcellus, and Balbus. He also forced an actor called Pylades out of Rome for making an obscene gesture at somebody in the audience with his middle finger.

All a far cry from the sexual liberality of the young Octavian!

DISCOVER: LGBT men hanged in 18th century London

Tiberius: Tiberius took the reins of power after Augustus died. Already on the older side of middle age, he went into semi-retirement on the island of Capri leaving the business of government to others in Rome. Tongues wagged over what exactly he was up to on Capri and the stories got increasingly lurid.

Some of the accusations encompassed what we would now classify as pedophilia. The jaded emperor also brought together young women and adult male prostitutes. Obsessed with pornography, he would insist that a kind of live sex show was put on for his entertainment. All of this was intended to excite and ‘stiffen’ his flagging libido or as Suetonius puts in in Latin: ut aspectu deficientis libidines excitaret.

I think you get the drift!

Caligula and Nero:

Among the Julio-Claudians, two emperors stand out as the most deranged: Caligula and Nero. Though attempts have been made in recent years to rehabilitate both of them to a degree. They undoubtedly engaged in what we would regard as LGBT sexual activity. But their tastes were very broad – to put it mildly!

Caligula is accused of incest with two of his sisters and demanding sex with the wives of senators. But he also had a homosexual relationship with a senator called Valerius Catullus. This caused some consternation among upper-class Romans who didn’t mind that Caligula was seeing a male actor called Mnester, because it was fine for an elite Roman to have a gay fling with a lower-class person.

But with somebody of equivalent social rank, they needed to be sure that Catullus hadn’t been pressured into it. For his part – Catullus complained that he was literally worn out by the emperor’s demands in bed. Gay sex for pagan Romans was a fact of life. Many in the senatorial class engaged in LGBT activity, not just the emperors. But the ideal was an older, richer, man in a dominant role with a younger, lower social rank individual who took a passive role. This is uncomfortable for us today – and illegal where it was under age.

Should also mentioned that elite Romans were queasy about Caligula cross-dressing as he allegedly did. What you wore designated your position in society so emperors wearing dresses or imitating the Gods was not a good thing. Caligula, Nero, and Elagabalus were three emperors who ignored social and gender norms when it came to their attire to the horror of their social equals.

Nero was the last of the Julio-Claudian emperors. He had just kicked to death his pregnant second wife Poppaea Sabina when he decided to marry a male freed slave called Sporus who resembled her. This was according to the historian Cassius Dio. Just to get the resemblance even closer, Nero had Sporus castrated and in a wedding ceremony, Sporus was dressed as a bride.

Curiously on a later occasion, Nero held yet another wedding ceremony where the LGBT emperor dressed as a bride and married another freed slave dressed as the groom. Only Nero didn’t have himself castrated for this role. These accounts come from all the major historians of the time with Suetonius even claiming that Nero used to wear an animal skin and “assail with violence the private parts both of men and women, while they were bound to stakes”.

Emperor Hadrian and Antinous – an imperial LGBT romance!

The most famous LGBT relationship in Roman imperial history has to be that between the Emperor Hadrian and Antinous. The British Museum, Louvre, Prado, Vatican and other collections of Roman art are replete with busts of the beautiful LGBT youth – Antinous. Lover and companion of the Emperor Hadrian. Coincidentally from Bithynia where Julius Caesar had so much fun!

Hadrian the bearded Spaniard who rose to the top position in the Roman Empire. Antinous born a slave, freed, and lived as the lover of Hadrian. Often described by gay friends of mine as the perfect coupling of a “bear” and a “twink”.

Hadrian spent a big part of his reign on a tour of the empire. While sailing down the river Nile, Antinous drowned. Rumours have always swirled around this tragic death. Accident, suicide, murder, or ritual sacrifice? Whatever the circumstances, a grief-stricken Hadrian had Antinous turned into a God.

His cult centred on a new city called Antinoopolis whose impressive ruins lasted into the 19th century until locals ground up the remaining buildings for cement production. Hadrian’s intense love affair with Antinous wasn’t viewed negatively at the time although his reaction to the young man’s death was seen as over the top. Womanly even – in one sneering comment.

Other LGBT Roman Emperors – including the boundary pushing Elagabalus

Other LGBT Roman Emperors include Nero’s immediate successor Galba; the Flavian dynasty emperors Titus and Domitian; the “good emperors” Nerva and Trajan; Commodus (as featured in the movie Gladiator); and the notorious Elagabalus.

The latter LGBT emperor – Elagabalus – is a corker! A teenage ruler whose reign last four years until he was assassinated age just eighteen. Though in that time he managed to rack up four marriages to women – and a string of gay encounters. Roman writers commented on his use of a female hair net by Elagabalus and removing hair from all over his body. He wore mascara, powdered his face, and wore women’s clothes.

To the horror of respectable opinion he took several husbands and Cassius Dio claimed that Elagabalus prostituted himself. But where he truly crossed a line for Roman elite opinion was his partial castration. This has led some to claim that he was a transgender Roman Emperor – which seems a fair conclusion. Sadly the Praetorian Guard turned on the young emperor and assassinated him.

The comical coronation of King George IV

In July 1821, George IV was crowned as king of the United Kingdom at Westminster Abbey. The event was a riot of glitzy kitsch with no expense spared that went some way to establishing the model for the modern coronation. But it was a comical – or rather tragicomic – day that saw George’s own queen barred from the event while he sweated inside under the weight of extravagant robes of his own design.

Meanwhile, the streets of London saw both celebration and civil unrest.

No expense was spared for this royal event. King George IV spent twenty times more than his father’s coronation had cost. My calculation allowing for inflation was that he splashed out £25million in today’s money. Though half the cost was covered by reparations imposed on France which had been defeated six years earlier in the wars against its emperor Napoleon. George viewed himself as the conqueror of France and his coronation was a kind of victory lap.

I’ve gathered many of the following details about the coronation and events around it from contemporary newspaper accounts.

A feast of bling at the coronation of King George

The coronation crown was the largest item of royal bling ever created. It included a staggering 12,314 diamonds! After the coronation, George IV pressured parliament into buying the massive bauble but MPs and Lords said no. Gradually stripped of its jewels over the years, the unloved crown went on a curious journey ending up at the Museum of London in the 20th century, then Asprey the jewellers, then the Sultan of Brunei, and finally into the Royal Collection which has placed its forlorn remnant in the Tower of London.

But George didn’t have just one crown fashioned for his coronation. Another item of stunning headwear made for the event was the Diamond Diadem, which has been worn by queens and queens consort at coronations ever since. Most famously, it was worn by the late Elizabeth II when she modelled for the iconic stamps we knew and used for decades in this country to send our mail. Here it is pictured below (article continues after this image).

At George’s coronation, all the nobility were ordered to have special clothes tailored copying Tudor and Stuart designs. This was English history cosplay on a grand scale. The king’s own coronation robe was 27 feet long and needed to be carried by nine pages. It was later sent to the waxwork museum Madame Tussauds. During the proceedings, George perspired profusely under his ridiculously rich and heavy attire.

King George’s queen excluded from the coronation

The Times newspaper noted the George IV’s coronation followed the structure of his father’s crowning sixty years later but there were huge differences. For a start, King George III was crowned alongside his wife as queen. In stark contrast, George IV’s estranged wife Queen Caroline was excluded from the coronation. She was reduced to banging on the doors of the abbey which were slammed in her face and at one point, guards stuck their bayonets under the queen’s chin to make the point she wasn’t welcome. Broken by this humiliating ordeal, Queen Caroline died three weeks later!

There were riots by supporters of the queen in London which meant that whereas the coronation of George III required 3,000 troops to maintain order – the enthronement of his son saw 20,000 troops on the streets. Having failed to be crowned alongside her husband, Queen Caroline petitioned the Archbishop of Canterbury to have her own coronation a week later while the abbey was still suitably decorated. Needless to say, that didn’t happen.

A wave of national apathy for the coronation of King George

On 28 July 1821, The Morning Chronicle took stock of the coronation that had happened just ten days before. It mocked the “court journals” that had drooled over this “pompous” ceremony without pointing out “the perfect apathy with which it has been regarded by the great body of the people of England”. The newspaper remarked that so indifferent were the masses that it would be a topic of study for future historians.

What The Morning Chronicle believed it was witnessing was something stirring deep in the national soul – against the monarchy:

“Superficial observers may think temporary causes sufficient to account for it; but an indifference so marked and universal – so entire a want of sympathy on the part of the people with those observances, which in the hands of their feudal tyrants were at once the instruments of gratification and delusion, can only be fairly ascribed to causes of a more general and permanent operation.”

Instead of inspiring awe, the pomp and pageantry had many wondering gloomily how much it was going to cost. The newspaper was concerned that after a century of reining in royal power, King George was showing signs of old-style absolutist monarchy and his ministers, who should have been able to control him, had allowed this grandiose coronation to take place.

“The truth is that the whole thing is out of date and the attempt at transferring the forms of chivalry to the cold realities of a modern court produces all the effects of a ‘travesti’.”

This newspaper assumed a much bigger figure for the true cost of the coronation than the one I gave above from other sources. It estimated half a million pounds which at today’s value is an eye watering £53.7 million. The Morning Chronicle believed that downscaling the coronation to a simple oath taking would have saved the Treasury what it lost in revenue from the recent abolition of the Agricultural Horse Tax.

FIND OUT MORE: The chaotic funeral of King George III

Crowds leave the coronation of King George for baser amusements

Once King George IV’s procession had entered Westminster Abbey, most of those outside departed hastily for Green Park according to The Observer newspaper. The reason being that a certain Mr Green was to ascend in a large hot air balloon as a stunt to celebrate the coronation. Watching this daredevil act of bravery enthralled the crowd more than the crowning of the king. There was some concern as Mr Green ascended until he was entirely lost from view eventually managing to descend again near South Mimms in the county of Essex.

At sunset, an estimated half a million people descended on Hyde Park to watch a firework display. This included an “illuminated transparency” of King George IV drawn in a carriage by “milk white horses”. According to one account, whole oxen and sheep were roasted in Hyde Park to feed the multitude.

I live close to an area of south London still called Vauxhall. Before the Victorians stuck a railway line through it, this was a centre of public entertainment. The Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens saw the city’s glitterati rubbing shoulders with politicians, entertainers, thieves, prostitutes, and thrill seekers attracted by a night of entertainments. For the king’s coronation, Vauxhall witnessed a huge masked ball.

The Morning Chronicle newspaper listed what visitors could expect to experience. Ramo Samee was a celebrity magician from India whose act included fire eating, sword swallowing, and a curious trick that involved swallowing beads followed by a string and then regurgitating a strung necklace. The equally renowned Mr Wilson would perform on the tightrope. A performance of Italian marionettes called the Fantoccini and a Chinese shadow puppet show called the Ombres Chinoises would also feature that evening.

DISCOVER: Worse royal funeral ever!

Ten years later, King George IV breathed his last – one of the least mourned monarchs to ever sit on the throne. It was up to Queen Victoria to bring some dignity and respect back to an institution that could very easily have not survived the 19th or early 20th century.

Diamond Jubilee 1897 – amazing images!

Regular visitors to the blog know that I have a huge archive of old books and newspapers stretching back 300 years. And one dusty, crumbling specimen is a photo album published for the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria in 1897.

It includes images that reveal a Britain that is at once familiar and very different. In this most royal of weeks, leading up to the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II as I write, let me share some of these images with explanations. They are a fascinating insight into England 120 years ago.

DISCOVER: England’s lost royal palaces

The first scene below is in front of Buckingham Palace. The building may look a bit unfamiliar because in 1913, sixteen years later, a new Portland stone facade was slapped on the front of the palace to match the gleaming white Victoria memorial in front and to create a more impressive backdrop for royal events. Behind the facade is the original palace that was built throughout the first half of the 19th century.

What we see is an honour guard of sailors on the left and “blue jackets” on the right who may look like police but – and correct me if I’m wrong – were actually sailors as well, sent to put down the Boxer Rebellion in China amongst other things.

With the next image, we glimpse Queen Victoria leaving for her Diamond Jubilee procession. Note that today’s impressive railings around the palace are absent and obviously the memorial to Victoria mentioned above isn’t there either as she was still very much alive. The Mall has yet to be turned into the wide roadway we see in 2022.

FIND OUT MORE: The impressive state funeral for Queen Victoria

Below we get a view of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee procession going through the City of London near the Bank of England and Mansion House. In the foreground towards the left you can see a large group of ‘Bluecoat’ boys from Christ’s Hospital school. The pupils were from poorer backgrounds. The school was founded by King Edward VI in 1552.

It was housed in the remains of a Franciscan monastery shut down during the Protestant Reformation of Henry VIII. Five years after this photo was taken the boys were moved to a new school outside London ending centuries of being based in the middle of the city. The school is still thriving and today admits girls.

The next image has the Diamond Jubilee procession heading down Pall Mall towards Trafalgar Square and a huge multi-level stand has been erected at the junction. Of particular interest is the reference to “various West Indian regiments” as these could have come from Jamaica, Barbados, and other Caribbean colonies, which now are questioning their future in the Commonwealth following the death of Queen Elizabeth II who was still their head of state.

Finally, Queen Victoria arrives at St Paul’s cathedral, which remains an iconic presence on the London skyline. The masterpiece of Sir Christopher Wren, constructed after the Great Fire of 1666 that incinerated the ancient medieval cathedral. The buildings to the right are mostly still there but elsewhere around the cathedral, the Blitz of the Second World War levelled a great number of buildings.

DISCOVER: Medieval buildings bombed in World War Two

Note the amount of soot on St Paul’s. I remember it took until the middle of the 1980s for London to be cleaned of all its soot revealing a very different city to the dark place I grew up in. Creamy exteriors we had previously thought to be pitch black.

Queen Elizabeth

Queen Elizabeth – a lifelong presence

For those of us in our 50s and 60s – Queen Elizabeth the Second has been a constant presence throughout our lives. I’m no great monarchist but this familiar figure bowing out is a very unsettling moment. It reminds us of losing those close to us in recent years – including both my parents. We’ve essentially watched the Queen going through the same health travails as she relinquishes her grasp on life.

As a pupil at an infants and then junior school in the late 1960s and 1970s, the Queen was omnipresent. She’d already been on the throne for two decades by the start of the 70s. And her status as the head of state sitting at the pinnacle of the social order was beyond question.

The coins and notes we got as pocket money bore her young head with a laureate crown and after 1971 – when our currency went decimal – an updated image appeared as she advanced into her 40s. There were still coins with the heads of her father and grandfather – George VI and George V – in circulation, but they seemed very remote figures.

In the school assembly hall, we faced the 1955 portrait of the Queen painted by Pietro Annigoni with the monarch draped in the ceremonial robes of the Order of the Garter and a strangely desolate landscape behind her. While the Queen gazed serenely down, we sung our morning hymns and intoned the Our Father to the head of the Church of England. Deference was still a big thing in the 1970s.

Queen Elizabeth meets punk rock

The late 1970s saw both a surge in monarchism and the first outburst of counter-cultural opposition. In 1977, the Queen celebrated her Silver Jubilee and the nation was enjoined to organise street parties and other events. Whereas subsequent jubilees – Golden, Diamond, and Platinum – seemed to be over in a fortnight, the 1977 jubilee went on for months. And it was very much a Commonwealth wide affair with the Queen touring Australia and New Zealand while Prince Charles visited Canada.

But a year before, punk rock had exploded into our lives. It’s hard to explain now what an impact The Sex Pistols and that whole musical genre had on our generation in a country that was sagging under the weight of economic crisis, post-Empire malaise, and rising unemployment. The Pistols released the raucous and irreverent single God Save The Queen which looking back now was less an attack on the Queen as a person and more a rejection of deference and suffocating paternalism.

But there was no wave of Republicanism crashing through the land. As a political activist in the 1980s, I was opposed to the monarchy but the main target of my socialist ire was capitalism. The Queen was simply the ceremonial icing on a cake of class oppression. I moved on from radical activism but just in time for the Queen to experience what she termed an “annus horribilis” in her Ruby Jubilee year of 1992.

Queen Elizabeth and her terrible year

That jubilee was noticeably low-profile. We were in the throes of endless scandal and rumour surrounding Sarah, Duchess of York – better known as “Fergie” – and of course Diana, Princess of Wales. Divorce, separation, racy photos, and compromising recording of secret conversations gave the tabloids a field day with the Royal Family. And then a big chunk of Windsor Castle burned down.

Compared to the 1970s, the monarchy in the 1980s and 1990s slid from revered institution to soap opera. Culminating in the death of Princess Diana in Paris. This event was an eye opener for me as somebody who wasn’t an arch-monarchist, along with most of my friends. It revealed a large and hyper-emotional constituency of royal admirers whose grief went far beyond anything most people I knew were experiencing. And the target of their anger over Diana’s demise was the Queen.

Shrill and shouty demands came for Her Majesty to show her feelings more publicly. I’ll admit that for the first time in my life, I actually felt genuine sympathy for the Queen. She was essentially being harangued into displaying the correct feelings by a tranche of the population in thrall to therapists. And she buckled, giving a televised address to mollify the population.

DISCOVER: Why did Queen Elizabeth the First never marry?

A kinder century for Queen Elizabeth

The 21st century has seen the Queen’s stature rise as the public view of democratically elected politicians and other professions has nosedived. But as ever, there’s a contradictory trend. Younger people – if social attitudes surveys are to be believed – just don’t feel the affinity to the monarchy that’s still widespread in my generation.

In addition, the discourse about the legacy of colonialism, slavery, and empire has fuelled a growing hostility in the Commonwealth. The last anachronistic ties binding former colonies to Britain are unwinding rapidly. It’s become the conventional wisdom to state that after Queen Elizabeth – the remnants of empire will evaporate. She is, after all, the last link to the Empire.

So, it’s been a journey that millions feel they’ve been on. Queen Elizabeth evolved into the nation’s collective mother figure – even though she has remained throughout a remote and even slightly ethereal figure. This constant in our lives is now disappearing. How our view of the monarchy will change is a big question.

Black British Georgian Rebel – William Davidson

In 1820, a group of English radical activists plotted to kill the entire British government while they were sat down to dinner in central London. The Cato Street Conspiracy – so-called from the place where they met to plot – was uncovered and the ringleaders executed in a public and grisly manner. One of those who died was William Davidson – a black British Georgian rebel.

Davidson is an under-recognised figure in our history. An educated and resourceful radical. The illegitimate son of the slave-owning Attorney General of Jamaica and a local free woman. And a man whose gravitas on the scaffold as he faced his fate was commented on positively by journalists.

Britain had won a long war against Napoleon Bonaparte and the French Empire with the final victory at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. But far from ushering in a period of peace and stability, the ending of military conflict was followed by economic depression and mass hunger as food prices skyrocketed.

This was a period when working-class people didn’t have the vote and precious few rights in the workplace – if they were lucky to have a job. Demobbed soldiers joined civilians sleeping rough on the streets with many surviving through petty crime even though pickpocketing and burglary could carry the death penalty. And those being hanged in public included teenagers and very occasionally what we would regard as children.

DISCOVER: A horrific day trip to Georgian London

Black British Rebel – William Davidson

Little wonder that radical movements emerged, and Davidson was drawn to them like a moth to the flame. He would play a leading role in the Cato Street Conspiracy that aimed to take out hated ministers like the Foreign Secretary, Lord Castlereagh. The plotters hoped to display Castlereagh’s head after the government had been wiped out but instead, it would be Davidson who would be beheaded in front of Newgate prison on the first of May 1820.

Join me as we go back to this turbulent yet fascinating period of history!

suffragette terrorism

The Suffragette use of terrorism

Were you taught in history that the Suffragette campaign on votes for women just involved smashing a few shop windows and being chained to railings? Well, you may have been denied some critical information. Because the Suffragettes deployed tactics we would define today as terrorism. Some of this Suffragette terrorism was quite shocking and has been swept under the carpet.

From 1903 to 1918, an organisation called the Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU) spearheaded the campaign to gain the vote for women. The so-called “Suffragettes” emerged from a more moderate movement as the belief grew that only direction action would get results. Led by the mother and daughter team of Emmeline and Christabel Pankhurst – they eventually adopted a bombing and arson campaign that we would easily define as terrorism.

However, this move to terrorist action has been rather airbrushed out of the Suffragette story. Most people are aware of the shop window smashing and chaining to railings but bombs in churches and railways stations has been pushed out of sight.

Using contemporary newspaper reports, the terrorist campaign of the suffragette movement is brought back to the fore and analysed. Did it work? How was it perceived at the time? Who were the targets? What were the methods used?

And as a fascinating postscript – why did some senior Suffragettes become fascists in the 1930s? Fifteen years after women got the vote in 1918, Suffragettes who had led the movement or been high profile members decided to follow Britain’s answer to Hitler and Mussolini – Oswald Mosley and his British Union of Fascists (BUF).

Was there something about the terrorist campaign of the Suffragettes that led some in that political direction?

DISCOVER: Was Jesus Christ a terrorist?

Terrorism – borne out of frustration

The Suffragettes had always emphasised their belief in deeds over words. They upped the ante when attempts to gain votes for women by the parliamentary process failed. If democracy couldn’t deliver, then the bomb just might. That was their thinking, and the result was a wave of very real bomb and arson attacks.

The targets were government ministers, and institutions like the Church of England that Suffragettes felt had dragged their feet on the issue or simply opposed women’s suffrage. It seems incredible now, but parish churches were reduced to ashes and bombs planted in Westminster Abbey and St Paul’s Cathedral.

On 19 February 1913, a bomb exploded at a large mansion being refurbished for the Chancellor of the Exchequer, David Lloyd George – who would later become Prime Minister. Emmeline Pankhurst admitted responsibility personally at a rally in Cardiff. She justified the attack on Lloyd George saying that “we have tried blowing him up to wake his conscience”.

Lloyd George retorted that he did support women’s suffrage but not for a minority of well-heeled women (who would vote Conservative more than likely) and the militancy of the Suffragettes was damaging their cause.

A fellow cabinet minister in the Asquith government was a young Winston Churchill whose views on women’s suffrage were far more hostile. Though his exact words are debated, he did write a few years before that “only the most undesirable class of women are eager for the right” to vote. And that they were “adequately represented by their husbands”.

Churchill would be attacked by a male Suffragette wielding a dog whip in an incident that was notorious at the time.

FIND OUT MORE: Women denying women the vote!

Suffragette use of terrorism

We have been served up a story for a long time that the Suffragettes rather quaintly smashed windows with their umbrellas and chained themselves to railings. In the run up to the First World War, there was a seemingly ceaseless wave of bomb attacks on public places. By the end of the war, and the granting of votes to women, this aspect of the Suffragettes was swept under the carpet.

But it happened. And it undermines the oft stated mantra that the most successful civil rights campaigns eschewed violence. The Suffragettes had no qualms about terrorism. The Pankhursts didn’t hesitate to justify these tactics. And they displayed a haughty indifference to mainstream public opinion on the matter. Even a certain contempt and disregard for ordinary working-class people.

Some of their planned actions – which thankfully never came to fruition – included bombing attacks on cotton mills, timber yards, and docks. Also, postal depots and telephone operating facilities. These could only have harmed working-class people. One also has to wonder at what was going through the mind of the Suffragette concerned who placed a bomb in a third-class train carriage or under a seat in a train station waiting room in Liverpool.

DISCOVER: Gunpowder plot – 17th century terrorism

The Suffragette rationalism for terrorist methods

The attack on a mansion called The Elms, situated just outside London, is very noteworthy. It suggests that targets were not only those denying women the vote but opponents within the broader women’s suffrage movement. Because what we have here is a violent act against a female aristocrat who supported women’s suffrage but was opposed to the Suffragettes and their methods.

Rosalind Howard, Countess of Carlisle, was an elitist opponent of democracy who seems to have found the idea of working-class men having the vote problematic. But she did support votes for women though not using the deeds-based approach of the Pankhursts. In uncompromising terms, she said that the Suffragettes had “wrecked the progress of a great constitutional reform”.

And then her property, The Elms, was subject to an arson attack. The culprits were apprehended and faced their day in court. What followed gave an insight into the mindset of the average Suffragette terrorist.

In court, the judge – Justice Lawrence – was involved in a fascinating exchange with the accused arsonist Rachel Peace (real name Florence Jane Short). He asked the militant Suffragette if she agreed that a crime had been committed. Peace replied that she didn’t deny guilt but added “I suggest I am not guilty of any evil motive. My motive is pure”.

The judge insisted that the case had to be based on facts and not “the purity of your motive”. He added that had the fire extended from The Elms to other properties nearby then lives would undoubtedly have been lost. Peace retorted that was “very improbable”.

Justice Lawrence then pointed out that the Suffragettes in effect relied on the authorities to ensure that fatalities didn’t result from their bombings and arson:

“I am amused at your theories of probabilities. You seem to think you may break the law and rely on the officers of the law to prevent the consequences of your act in so doing. You rely on the policeman patrolling the streets to find the fire, and the Fire Brigade to prevent it from spreading to houses with people in them.”

Peace was treated appallingly in prison and subjected to forced feeding. This was commonly used with Suffragettes to break hunger strikes. The exchange above shows that in her view, the purity of motive was paramount, and the consequence of a terrorist action was secondary. The struggle was everything.

The inevitable hoax attacks

During the Suffragette terrorist campaign, there were undoubtedly hoax attacks by opportunists and idiots who having started a fire then blamed it on the campaign for the vote.

In the Welsh town of Abergavenny, an eighteen-year-old man, Douglas James, admitted in court to two charges of arson, both at a church rectory. To try and implicate the Suffragettes, he printed the words “Votes for Women” on a large piece of paper that he left at the scene of his crime.

Well, they do say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Gunpowder Plot

Gunpowder plot – 17th century terrorism!

In 1605, there was an audacious attempt to assassinate King James the First of England and his entire parliament. The so-called Gunpowder Plot was exactly that – a plot using gunpowder to send the king sky high. But why was this plot hatched?

It was very much rooted in the religious strife that was gripping England between Catholics and Protestants. Catholics had been forbidden to worship openly and their priests were executed in a very gruesome manner if caught. When James became king, some Catholics thought matters might improve as his late mother and wife were Roman Catholic.

DISCOVER: The Great Plague of London in 1665

But it was not to be. James decided not to rock the boat and accepted the Protestant settlement put in place by King Henry VIII decades earlier. He might have expected his subjects to just accept his decision. But that wasn’t going to be the case.

A man called Robert Catesby and like-minded plotters conspired to end the monarch’s life. One of the conspirators was Guy Fawkes – whose name has survived down the centuries. He was a military man who took charge of placing the explosives under parliament.

The plot was betrayed and those who were caught and taken to prison would later die horrifically in public on the scaffold. Watch the video on this page to get the fully story!

Loch Ness Monster

The enduring legend of the Loch Ness Monster

In the rugged highlands of Scotland there’s a large freshwater lake known as Loch Ness. It stretches for 23 miles flanked by rolling hills. And its depth reaches nearly 800 feet. The reason you’ve probably heard of Loch Ness isn’t because of the dimensions but what allegedly lies beneath its murky surface. According to multiple eyewitnesses, the lake is home to some type of prehistoric animal. Otherwise known as The Loch Ness Monster.

Saint Columba tames the Loch Ness Monster

Nearly all these claimed sightings date from the 20th and 21st centuries. However, there is one alleged account from the sixth century AD. At this time, in what used to be termed the ‘Dark Ages’ after the fall of the Roman Empire in western Europe, monks from Ireland kept the flame of Christianity burning. One of their number, Columba, journeyed to what is now Scotland determined to bring the gospels to the pagan inhabitants.

His mission was largely successful.  A century after Columba’s death, the abbot of Iona Abbey – a man called Adomnán – wrote a two-part biography of the heroic Irish monk. In the second part, he describes an encounter between Columba and Nessie (as the monster is fondly known today).

“The brute lay asleep in the riverbed, waiting in his lair. He ascended to the surface and with a loud roar from his open heart, he lunged at the man. The Holy Man raised his hand and made a sign of the cross. At the sound of the saint’s voice, the brute retreated so quickly, it seems as if were pulled by a rope.”

Well, of course, confronted by this astonishing sight – the locals deserted their pagan gods and converted to Christianity on the spot. Now, stories of heroes taming or killing beasts and dragons have been a feature of both Christian and pre-Christian mythology going back millennia. Normally as a way of proving that my god is better than your god. Look what he can do!

In Christian scripture, we have Saint Philip described in the Acts of Philip – a gnostic gospel the church chose not to include in the bible – casting a dragon out of a temple dedicated to Apollo. Then there is Saint George who as everybody knows slew a dragon. Saint Theodore of Amasea did a similar deed. And in the Book of Revelation, we see Michael the Archangel sticking it to a devilish reptile.

Was Columba’s beast Nessie? That is a moot point. His biography states the monster was to be found in the River Ness, which flows from the lake. And that’s good enough for Nessie fans.

DISCOVER: So – did aliens from outer space civilise us?

Fast forward to the 1930s

We then have an enormous gap in the Nessie story from the sixth century AD to the 1930s. Had the monster gone into a multi-century hibernation – or swum off elsewhere? Who knows?

But for whatever reason, Nessie takes off in the decade that brought you the Great Depression and the Third Reich. Were people in the 1930s looking for a little escapism? Or were they influenced by Hollywood movies that had begun to master special effects. In the 1933 epic King Kong, we see the gigantic ape kill dinosaurs in the jungle. Could this imagery have been burned into the public consciousness?

In 1933, a newspaper article in the Inverness Courier sparked the Nessie craze. A married couple had seen a whale-like creature in Loch Ness.

“The creature disported itself, rolling and plunging for fully a minute, its body resembling that of a whale, and the water cascading and churning like a simmering cauldron. Soon, however, it disappeared in a boiling mass of foam.”

Something about this story fired people up. A circus offered a £2,000 reward to capture the beast (how very King Kong!!).  While the Daily Mail newspaper sent a big game hunter Marmaduke Wetherell to see if he could bag the monster. A breathless Wetherell reported back that he found gigantic footprints by the lake. Sadly, these turned out to have been created by hoaxers using the stuffed foot of a hippopotamus.

Incredibly, the famous author and member of the Bloomsbury group Virginia Woolf was swept up by Nessie mania. She wrote to her sister:

“We met a charming couple in an inn, who were in touch through friends, with the Monster. They had seen him. He is like several broken telegraph posts and swims at intense speed. He has no head. He is constantly seen.”

For the next twenty years, glimpses of the monster would continue to be reported. In 1959, a local firefighter, Peter O’Connor, was condemned for planning to kill Nessie. A year later, the chief constable of Inverness, J. R. Johnstone, called on parliament to pass legislation protecting the monster from “human villainy”.

The 1960s gets a bit silly

The decade that brought us the permissive society also loved to poke fun at pomposity. It took the Loch Ness legend and turned it into a comic British movie with a smutty title: What a Whopper.

The movie’s protagonist Tony Blake – played by real-life early 60s pop heartthrob Adam Faith – is an author whose book on Nessie has just been roundly rejected by publishers. So, to drum up interest he goes up to Loch Ness to fake a sighting. When his plan fails, Blake is forced to flee across the lake from angry locals…at which point the real monster appears.

Is this movie garbage? Oh god yes! As an aside, I worked with Adam Faith on a media venture forty years later at the turn of the 21st century and made sure I never mentioned What a Whopper to him. Some points in your life are best forgotten.

The use and misuse of science

There have been numerous attempts to apply scientific methods to the search for the Loch Ness Monster. In May 1973, a Boston patent attorney called Robert Rines took sonar and underwater photographic equipment to Loch Ness and claimed to prove the existence of “at least two large marine animals”.

Rines had set up an organisation called the Academy of Applied Sciences that despite its name, railed against “official science” because, as Rines told journalists, “organised science doesn’t know how to handle oral evidence”. This is a familiar trope of pseudo-science – arguing that real science should be a blend of peer-reviewed evidence and what a bloke said down the pub.

Over the last fifty years, expeditions to Loch Ness have used sonar probes, a submarine, a gyrocopter, a trained dolphin, a baited cage, an amphibious Volkswagen, and a model monster smeared with salmon oil to try and locate Nessie.

The sightings have come thick and fast with sceptics rolling their eyes and attributing the visual phenomena to otters, ducks, seals, cormorants, mirages, shadows and even rotting vegetation. All of this not helped by the dark gloom of the water, which is caused by the surrounding peat. It gives the lake an impenetrable and mysterious aspect.

The Loch Ness Investigation Bureau Limited

In December 1961, an organisation was set up to investigate claims about Nessie: The Loch Ness Investigation Bureau Limited. The founders were David James MP, Richard Fitter, the author Constance Whyte, and Sir Peter Scott.

Scott was a conservationist and the only son of the famous and fabled Scott of the Antarctic – the doomed explorer. Sir Peter worked with the above mentioned Rines and in 1975, they provided blurry photos of what looked like an underwater prehistoric creature, which was given the Latin name Nessiteras rhombopteryx.

Now I remember as a 12-year-old how exciting this was initially until some people began to analyse that Latin a little more closely. Didn’t it look suspiciously like an anagram? The Daily Telegraph newspaper decoded it as: “Monster Hoax by Sir Peter S”. A furious Rines countered that it could also read as: “Yes, both pix are monsters, R.”

The damage, however, was done – and no more was heard about that photo. In 2008, before his death, Rines announced that he believed Nessie had become extinct due to global warming.

Russian versions of the Loch Ness Monster

Before the fall of the Soviet Union, I remember as a child reading a sneering feature article in a Soviet publication laughing at the west’s obsession with childish fantasies like the Loch Ness Monster. It was symptomatic of our inferior bourgeois, capitalist mentality.

Only, Russia can hardly lecture the west on this subject. Back in 1953, members of a geological expedition claimed they could verify a local folktale about a monster living in a large body of water in Russia’s far east. The Labynkyr Devil was described by local fishermen as a “huge aggressive monster with a big mouth full of sharp teeth”.

What nonsense, the Soviet scientists initially retorted – before apparently running into it. One of the geological team, Viktor Tverdokhlebov, described a dark, grey creature moving at speed. “There was no doubt, we had seen the Devil – the legendary monster of this locale,” Viktor said afterwards.

And then there’s the Brosno Dragon, tales of which go back 800 years. Allegedly when the Mongols swept across Russia in the Middle Ages, the dragon obligingly stopped the Mongol army from seizing the city of Veliky Novgorod. As the Mongols unwisely watered their horses by the dragon’s lake – it leaped out and tore the warriors to pieces.

The rise and fall of Nessie?

In many ways, Nessie was a creation of mass media. The popular press and radio latched on to this fantastical story and amplified it globally. But one newspaper article in recent years has raised the point that modern media today is a double-edged sword. It can spread fake news and conspiracy theories with remarkable speed and impact. But it also punctures silly stories very quickly. The journalist posed the question whether the internet has now killed off Nessie?