Monthly Archives: September 2020

The stories they tell: diaries of Iris Castello on travels to Palestine

In the spring of 1923 and then again in the late summer of 1924 through to the spring of 1925 a young lady named Iris Castello travelled from her home in England to Palestine. She was the niece of Herbert Louis Samuel, 1st Viscount Samuel – a Liberal politician who served as leader of the Liberal Party from 1931-5 as well as Home Secretary in the National Government under Ramsay MacDonald from 1931-2. He also served as the first High Commissioner for Palestine from 1920 to 1925 and it was in this capacity that Iris accompanied her uncle and other family members and friends in the course of both official and informal events on their travels through Palestine.

Special Collections hold the diary entries kept by Iris in our collection MS432, documenting her experiences in Palestine and giving us a fly-on-the-wall account of the work of the High Commissioner and the world of the British elite at this crucial period in Middle East history. Iris was based in Jerusalem but ventured far and wide to various places including Nazareth; Amman in what was then the Emirate of Transjordan; Damascus in Syria and Baalbek in Lebanon to name just a few.


Countryside at Bethany from MS84/3, Bundle 1, p1: Iris visited Bethany twice, once in March 1923 and again in January 1925, when she visited the tomb of Lazarus

The diaries range from the mundane and rather prosaic details you’d expect from most amateur writers keeping day-to-day accounts of their travels through a foreign land, such as their notes on the weather, the quality of their bedding, games of badminton, ping-pong and Mah-jong or the tedious and tiresome characters one is forced to endure at parties and other gatherings. However, they also include unique details of historical interest on the characters and settings of 1920s Palestine and the Near East more generally.

Amongst the more prominent characters Iris encountered was the Emir Abdulla of Transjordan, who visited her uncle Lord Samuel on 11th September 1924 and whom she described as “a good looking man with a nice twinkle. He is very worried about the Whabis marching to Taif & came over to discuss with Uncle Herbert.”

Soon after this initial encounter ‘Uncle Herbert’, Iris and others in their entourage travelled to meet again with the Emir at his camp in Amman:

After an early tea Col Cox escorted us to the Emir’s Camp right up on the top of a hill.  Very fresh & cool.  As Uncle Herbert stepped out of the car ‘God Save the King’ was played.  We watched the little Prince and others galloping their horses, it was then prayer hour so we were shown to our tents to remain there till dinner time.

Uncle Herbert had a large tent divided into a bedroom & sitting room.  May & I shared a small tent, so did Professor Wallas & Reggie.  Our tent was furnished with two extremely uncomfortable beds, two chairs & a washstand.  The first thing I did was to anoint my bed thoroughly with Keatings and thus escaped any visitors.

At 7.30 an official dinner party was given.  Decorations were worn.  The Emir looked very magnificent in some sort of military uniform.  We were 30 altogether.  I sat between the doctor and the Chief Justice.  The doctor was an extremely interesting man and spoke excellent English.

The dinner was badly cooked & dull food.  We started off with luke-warm soup, then some sort of pastry, chicken & rice, beans done up, macaroni, fancy rice, mutton done up, a very sickly pudding & dessert.  The Emir must be short of forks because after each course our dirty fork was left for the next course.  Only water to drink.  After dinner we returned to the Emir’s tent and after chatting up for a short time we retired to our tents & bed.  An extremely interesting & novel experience.

Iris also describes in some detail the visit of Lord Balfour to Palestine in March and April of 1925:

The next excitement & a national one was the arrival of the Balfour party.  The city was quite deserted, because all the Arab shops were shut as a sign of protest & the Jewish shops as a sign of rejoicing.  There was no demonstration at all.

Mixed in amongst descriptions of some of the better known characters from modern history are the more obscure individuals who peopled Iris’ world and the manner in which she describes them puts one in mind of an Agatha Christie novel, with all the prejudices and predilections a young English woman of the middle or upper classes of that era might hold. On 26th September 1924 Iris meets a Dr Weizmann who, unfortunately was “not at all what I expected. Very much the Lenin type. Rather silent but this was put down to overwork.” On 3rd March 1923 she met another doctor: “At lunch the doctor became conversational.  I did not like him.” On 1st October 1924 yet another doctor: “I was taken in by Col Holmes (Head of the Railways) a fat jovial man & sat between him and Wing Commander Tyrrell the doctor at Sarafend. Very Irish & rather noisy.”


Jerusalem as it would have looked in the 1920s, from MS84/4 Bundle 6

In her travels through Palestine Iris encountered many of the archaeological excavations that were taking place there at that time, including those in the Valley of Kidron at Jerusalem:

[…] went in the car to the Tomb of Absalom, and from there walked to the City of David to have a look at Macalister’s  Excavations.   No one working, but we found the guardian there whose duty it is to keep visitors away.  He turned into an excellent guide.

We saw the corners of the old wall of David and some very interesting caves that have been discovered & are still being excavated.

Professor Wallas had some difficulty in getting down the rather narrow gangway to the caves, so the guide just lifted him up & gave him a pig-a-back.  No light weight, but a most amusing sight

Iris was invited to many talks and lectures given at the British School of Archaeology including one held by a Dr Karlie on malaria which she deemed ‘rather interesting’; one given by a Mr Garrow Duncan on Mount Ophir that she found ‘wonderfully interesting’; and another by a Dr Grenfell on Labrador that was both ‘interesting and brightly delivered’.

However, both Iris and her uncle also endured talks that were less well received, including Professor Gastang’s fourth lecture on excavations in Jerusalem given on Monday 17th November 1924: “It was boring, but Uncle Herbert expected it to be as he told me to nudge him if he fell asleep.”


The countryside near Jerusalem, from MS84/4 Bundle 6

As a young woman on the fringes of her uncle’s official business in Palestine, Iris’ diaries carry an often light-hearted even flippant tone that allows the reader to enter into the world of British colonial politics in the Near East through the lens of an informal and somewhat unserious yet highly perceptive observer.

The stories they tell: Lady’s Palmerston’s rewards of industry

Mary Mee was the daughter of Benjamin Mee, a London merchant living in Dublin. She married John Temple, second Viscount Palmerston, on 5 January 1783 and they had four children including the future British Prime Minister, Henry John Temple, third Viscount Palmerston. Described as a lively, charming woman and elegant society hostess she had a kind heart and devoted much of her energy and own money to helping the poor of Romsey. This included setting up several schools. Information about her ventures comes mostly from her letters to family and friends.

Hand drawn and coloured reward card given as prizes to children at Lady Palmerston’s School of Industry, c. 1801 [MS62 Broadlands Archives BR183/27]

From the records, it is hard to tell exactly how many schools there were and whether they operated simultaneously or sequentially. She frequently refers to her “girls” and it’s not clear whether she also offered opportunities for boys.

Mary lived many years before the provision of state education at a time when there were very few schools in England. In the 18th century the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge created the first charity schools for children aged 7 to 11 years. ‘National Schools’ were founded by the Church of England from 1811 onwards; a similar venture supported by non-conformist Christians has been established a few years earlier which started ‘British Schools’. Despite this, many children from the labouring class would not have had the opportunity to go to school.

[MS62 Broadlands Archives BR183/27]

Her schools probably didn’t provided an education akin to modern-day establishments; more likely the children would have received practical training that they could then use to generate income, as well as a safe, dry space and a hot meal. She refers to her “school of industry” as well as her spinning schools, specifying one for flax [spun into linen] and one for hemp [commonly used to make sail canvas] which give an indication of the sort of skills the children were learning. In 1803, 55 children had knitted their own stockings.

In 1801 Mary described to her son how the problem was “too extensive for particular charity” and required actions “on a large scale”. [BR21/7/8] And in terms of numbers, it’s clear that Mary was helping a significant number of local children. In 1801 she reports that numbers at her school[s] have increased to 60; by 1803 she has about 100 children “in all my schools”. That same year she also expresses her hope to establish an “early” or “young” school.


MS62 Broadlands Archives BR183/27

It appears that in 1801 she was employing 2 or 3 members of staff : a governess plus a teacher and [?or] sub-governess. The only person referred to by name – and from whom we have one letter – is Ann Rout. In 1802 Mary bought presents for the assistant ladies who attend her school and the following year she tells us she has two spinning mistresses.

It appears Mary took a very modern carrot – rather than stick – approach to motivation, even for the prospective parents attending her lecture on the school rules in 1803: “I have treated them with bread & cheese & to prevent it being a dry lecture I have ordered them some strongbeer.” [MS62 Broadlands Archives BR21/9/6]. PTA’s around the country, please take note!

MS62 Broadlands Archives BR183/27

She writes to friend Emma Godfrey in Jan 1803 that she has been organising rewards for her girls: 60 cloaks are to be cut plus plans to provide a dinner for 75; she was inviting some past scholars to dine. Later that year she held the annual school fete at which, she reports, her own children were waiters. Mary’s two daughters, Elizabeth and Frances, were certainly involved in her work and it is possible that they made the beautiful reward cards, examples of which illustrate this post.

The stories they tell: the Rosicrucian Plays

Alex Mathews The Demon Monk (1939) Rare Books Rosicrucian BF 1623.R7

For the latest in our ‘The stories they tell’ blogs we feature a play, The Demon Monk, complete with an admissions ticket for a charity performance at the Rosicrucian Theatre in Christchurch in August 1939.

The play is one of a number written under the name Alex Mathews by George Sullivan (1890-1942), the leader of the Rosicrucian Order Crotona Fellowship (ROCF), whose Library is one of our smaller printed collections. Intended to be both entertaining and educational, the Rosicrucian plays communicated the group’s beliefs. Amongst these were the ability of individuals to access esoteric powers and that reincarnation allowed such powers to be developed through successive lifetimes. In the Demon Monk, a vampire, Liveda, has his soul freed, whilst the positive portrayal of a witch, Mrs Halsall, as a wise woman with supernatural powers, is notable given the links between some members of ROCF and a New Forest coven.

From The Demon Monk

In using drama as a means of bringing the group’s beliefs to a wider audience Sullivan saw himself as continuing a Rosicrucian tradition. He subscribed to the view that Francis Bacon, whom he regarded as a founder of the English tradition of Rosicrucianism, had been the author of Shakespeare’s plays, and that these too could be seen as Rosicrucian texts containing esoteric secrets.

For members of the group, Sullivan provided instruction through the Academia Rosae Crucis. Its programme took the form of three degrees, Licenciate, Bachelor and Doctor, the subjects studied being:  Principles of Rosicrucian Philosophy and History, Mythology and Symbology, Comparative Religion, Oratory and Drama, Alchemy, Therapeutics, Psychology, Mysticism, Occult Science and Principles of Magic. Teaching took the form of lectures and discussions as well as rites and ceremonies which were held in the Ashrama Hall, adjacent to the theatre. For those who could attend neither the Christchurch nor the London ‘chapters’, instruction was also offered by correspondence course.

The ROCF group appears to have been in existence for around thirty years – it was established by Sullivan in Liverpool in the early 1920s and had probably ceased to exist by the late 1950s but its prominence was limited to the period between 1935, when it transferred to Christchurch, and Sullivan’s death in 1942. Without his charismatic leadership, it attracted few new members and inevitably declined as the original members aged.

Two ROCF members later described the influence of Sullivan and his group. Gerald Gardner (1884-1964), a pioneer in the development of the modern pagan religion of Wicca, doubted some of Sullivan’s claims, notably that he was a reincarnation of Bacon, but wrote that it was through a member of ROCF that he was initiated into Wicca at the New Forest coven. Peter Caddy (1917-1994), a co-founder of the Findhorn Community in Scotland in 1962, had a more positive view of Sullivan, describing him as a “being of vast knowledge” whose teachings continued to be of importance throughout his life.

Many of the Rosicrucian plays and other writings by George Sullivan (he also wrote as Aureolis and Muser, as well as Alex Mathews) have been digitised and are available on Internet Archive. There is also a list of contents of the Rosicrucian Collection which reflects the philosophies of Sullivan, the subjects studied by members of the group and their interest in Francis Bacon and Shakespeare.

The stories they tell: the mobile ambulance synagogues

As we mark International Day of Charity 2020 on 5 September, we look at the story of the mobile ambulance synagogues, an initiative of the Chief Rabbi’s Religious Emergency Council used to provide welfare support in liberated Europe at the end of the Second World War. Rabbi Solomon Schonfeld, who was the Executive Director of the CRREC and was awarded the British Hero of the Holocaust award in 2013 for his work with refugees, played a leading role in this initiative.

Consecration of a mobile synagogue, 1945

Image of the consecration of a mobile synagogue ambulance from the Annual Report of the CRREC, 1945 [MS183/593/1]. This ambulance was supported from donations from the Jewish community in the USA.

Supported through a fund raising campaign across the Jewish community worldwide, the first of these ambulances was sent to Europe in 1944. The vehicles functioned as both synagogues and as first-aid clinics. Each was stocked with kosher food, clothing and religious requisites. Although originally used by military chaplains on active service for Jewish military personnel, their role was extended to provide relief for Jewish survivors within the liberated territories in Europe.

Mobile synagogue ambulance, Athens, December 1945

Mobile synagogue ambulance at the Central Jewish Board Office, Athens, December 1945 [MS 183/374]

The aim was to provide 50 such mobile ambulance synagogues in total: the CRREC report for November 1945 noted that there were 13 vehicles completed and in operation across Europe at that time. They were at that point in 1945 at work in the following locations: Synagogue Ambulance Number 1 was in France, whilst Synagogue Ambulance Number 2 was in use in Czechoslovakia under the supervision of the Czech Red Cross; Mobile Synagogues Numbers 3 and 4 were working with the British Army of the Rhine; Mobile Synagogue Number 5 was with the Central Mediterranean Forces; Synagogue Ambulance Number 6 operated with the Community Council in Athens; Synagogue Ambulance Number 7 was in use in North Western Germany with the Relief Unit of the Jewish Committee for Relief Abroad; Synagogue Canteen Number 8 was in use in Belgium with the Children’s Homes of the Comité Centrale Israelite pour la Réorganisation de la Vie Réligieuse en Belgique; Synagogue Ambulance Number 9 was in Amsterdam; Synagogue Ambulance 10 was in Poland and 12-13 were en route there; and finally Synagogue Canteen 11 was based in the Netherlands.

Mobile synagogue at Chalcis, December 1945

Mobile synagogue at Chalcis, December 1945 [MS183/374]

By December 1945, Synagogue Ambulance Number 6 had made its way from Athens to the Island of Euboea to support the Jewish community in Chalcis.  Of the Jewish community in Chalcis, only 22 of the 327 members were to perish in the Holocaust, as the remainder were hidden and assisted by their Christian neighbours.

An innovative idea, the mobile ambulance synagogues and synagogue canteens scheme was to prove its worth in contributing to the relief effort in liberated Europe as well as a testament to the work and commitment of those, such as Schonfeld, who initiated it. The archive of Rabbi Schonfeld contains considerable material on the work of the CRREC.