Revealed – A second bronze relief plaque of Mabel V.A. Bent by T. Stirling Lee (1895)

Thomas Stirling Lee (detail) by Philip Wilson Steer, OM, oil on canvas (private collection).

“He modelled but sparingly for bronze…” (Kineton Parkes 1921: 111)

“… one of the best of the pure sculptors of the Nineteenth Century Renaissance, a man who loved his work with all his heart and soul, and one who loved his fellow men.” (Kineton Parkes 1921: 112)

“It is certainly for his power of telling a story beautifully… that Mr. Lee will continue to be admired.” (Spielmann 1901: 66)

An introduction to a rediscovered and previously unpublished, cire perdue, cast bronze, wall relief/large medallion by the Arts & Crafts/New Sculpture master, Thomas Stirling Lee (1857-1916). Updated Sept 26 to include the discovery of the Sadler Memorial, New Southgate Cemetery, London, and the location of TSL’s grave in the same cemetery (with photos). See below.

The commission

“Mr. T. Sterling Lee is at present engaged on a bronze bas relief of Mrs Theodore Bent, who is spending the season at her London house.” (Lady of the House, Saturday 15 June 1895)

“Mrs J. Theodore Bent”. The 1895 version of a bronze relief/medallion by Thomas Stirling Lee in the collection of the Bent Archive (2024).

By the mid 1890s, Theodore and Mabel Bent had become celebrities; they had amazed London with their fifteen-year campaign of explorations and discoveries in large areas of the Eastern Mediterranean, Africa, and the Middle East, which, regularly updated in the media, had captivated a huge, international audience. Bent had produced countless articles and scholarly papers, as well as six books; the couple gave regular talks and lectures (often with lantern-slides reproduced from Mabel’s photographs) to various institutions and at popular events; the British Museum had hundreds of their acquisitions. Their personal collection in London was often on show to the public; they were sought after by editors for interviews, Mabel featuring equally with Theodore.

It is not surprising, therefore, that, as well as the couple appearing at the leading studio photographers for their portraits, Mabel should also have approached, or been approached by the innovative British sculptor and artist Thomas Stirling Lee (TSL, 1857-1916) for her relief likeness, opting for a roundel (‘medallion’) in bronze. Presumably she must have gone to TSL’s studio, in Chelsea Vale, with its small foundry en suite, to sit for him. He would have been paid for this commission certainly; at an exhibition some years later he was asking 10 guineas (c. £750 today) for medallions of idealised themes (Leeds City Art Gallery Exhibition, 1909). It is not known to date whether TSL also produced a likeness of Theodore Bent. note 1 

The two bronze reliefs of Mabel Bent         

The lettermark of Thomas Stirling Lee that appears on some of the sculptor’s work –  it is a combination of his three initials  (Bent Archive, 2024).

The 1895 relief (confidently attributed to TSL) has (June 2024) been acquired by the friends of the Bent Archive and features above. Facing right, the sitter’s features are handsome and strong, her famous red hair coiled, her chin ready to face the travel challenges ahead, her nose a compass needle, due East; her name, Mrs J. Theodore Bent, runs boldly clockwise, with the date – 1895; the TSL monogram stands out, bottom left (the combined letters ‘TSL’ and a series (3 or 4) of knobs on the rim before the lettermark). Sculpted and cast by TSL in bronze; maximum width 260 mm; weight 1.86 kg.

A studio portrait of Mabel Bent in the late 1880s/early 1890s, possibly (date and photographer unknown; Bent Archive).

The 1896 relief is today in private hands and is not illustrated here note 2 . It is essentially a reworking of the 1895 version. Again facing right, this time the features are softer, as if Mabel had requested a perhaps less assertive appearance; as if the 1895 relief were sculpted en-scène, in the intense heat of the Wadi Hadramaut, for example, while the 1896 version comes demurely from her London drawing-room at 13 Great Cumberland Place, perhaps while giving an interview, over tea and sandwiches: Mabel as Britannia. Once more, her famous red hair is coiled high, her name runs clockwise, with the date – 1896; the TSL lettermark and characteristic knobs also appear, bottom left. Sculpted and cast by TSL (dimensions and weight n/a at present).

In terms of the two dates (1895 and 1896), it is difficult, without documentation, which might appear, to give the exact times when TSL (or Mabel Bent) might have been working on the sculpting and casting the reliefs. Over these years, Theodore and Mabel were exploring east and west of the Red Sea. Mabel may have been available for the modelling in the late spring and summer, when they habitually returned to their London townhouse before undertaking family visits to the north of England and Ireland.

TSL was a regular contributor to the Royal Academy and the 1896 event included ‘Five medallions, bronze’. It would be good to think that with these might have been one of the reliefs of Mabel Bent (Graves 1905: 21).

The sculptor – Thomas Stirling Lee (1857-1916)

Manresa Road, Chelsea, in the 1880s, the Stirling Lee milieu. ‘The Scottish Art Review’, Vol. 2 (June-Dec. 1889), p.72 (archive.org).

Stirling Lee’s story is romantic and poignant – the admired but unfulfilled artist – working at the turn of Victoria’s century, pulled here and there by the various stylistic waves reaching both sides of the Channel. A most highly regarded, likeable and clubbable personality by all accounts, TSL was one of the founders of the Royal Society of British Sculptors, and the Chelsea Arts Club in 1891.

There is a great deal of background data on TSL online, including his works, as one might expect; for now, some sympathetic paragraphs from Kineton Parkes (1921: 111-113) provide a maquette:

The famous bronze statue of Charles Gore (1853-1932), Bishop of Birmingham, by Thomas Stirling Lee, outside St Philip’s Cathedral, Birmingham (Wikipedia: Michael Westley, CC BY-SA 2.0)

“THERE are sculptors to-day, and of the immediate past, who acknowledge no influences, and who, moreover, deplore the training they received: men who stand alone and apart from all groups, schools and associations. Sometimes their work is so individual as to call for this isolation, sometimes it is more or less in conformity with the work of the academies, and definitely resembles the products of the schools. Still, these artists, possessing an individualistic and egoistic personality strongly developed seem to differentiate from their fellow-artists and to form a heterogeneous class of their own. Such an one was Stirling Lee…

“Thomas Stirling Lee was one of the most retiring men and most modest artists I have ever known. He was always willing to talk about art, but he seemed to do it from an impersonal standpoint, while, paradoxically, he was a most personal artist, and held emphatic opinions on the art of sculpture. He carved directly in marble and stone, and he modelled but sparingly for bronze. His work of earlier years may be seen in the panels decorating the St. George’s Hall at Liverpool, blackened but not obliterated by the atmosphere of that great city of dreadful noise.

“His later panels are in the Bute Chapel of Bentley’s great cathedral at Westminster. Between those two sets of works he produced busts and reliefs: portrait and ideal. His work was plain, but it was distinguished. It had little ornament, but it was not severe to the point of being undecorative: it was indeed sympathetic. I remember a bust of a girl’s head – it is in the Art Gallery of the Nicholson Institute at Leek, in North Staffordshire – which is full of tenderness, and there are others just as sympathetic. A series of small bronze portrait plaques of his friends of about 1889 shew how friendly a man Stirling Lee was [our emphasis]. If he was retiring, he was also brotherly, as the members of the Chelsea Arts Club (of which he was a founder, with Whistler and some few others) well remember. He was a great worker, and one of his most ambitious pieces was one of his least successful, his Father and Son, the reception of which greatly disappointed him.

The marble bust of Margaret Clausen by TSL now in Tate Britain, London (Tate Britain).

“There are dangers, as well as virtues, in being too modest, as well as in direct carving: they may be your undoing, and I believe, combined, they were in Stirling Lee’s case. To the grief of his friends, he died suddenly in South Kensington station, in one of the years of the war, and there passed away then one of the best of the pure sculptors of the Nineteenth Century Renaissance, a man who loved his work with all his heart and soul, and one who loved his fellow men. His studios were always in Chelsea: in Manresa Road, in the Vale, and, when the Vale disappeared, then he had built for himself the studio in the Vale Avenue, where his Westminster Panels and his Father and Son were carved. One of his last exhibited works was his marble bust called Beatrice, at the Royal Academy. There is a beautiful bust, full of thought, of a girl in the Bradford Museum, and an equally fine bust is that called Lydia, which was seen in the special Exhibition by the Chelsea Arts Club at Bradford in 1914.” note 5 

Richard Dorment (1985: 24) is another writer to comment on the sculptor’s good nature, referring to ‘the sweet-tempered Thomas Stirling Lee’, prepared to follow his brother sculptor Alfred Gilbert ‘to Rome and back to London’.

Puccini but without the tunes

TSL’s acquaintance, Morley Charles Roberts (1857-1942)(wikipedia).

For a glimpse of some aspects of artistic life in the late 19th century, and the founding of the Chelsea Arts Club, including the involvement of TSL, see Arthur Ransome’s (he of Swallows and Amazons) Bohemia in London (London, 1907)…  But a more entertaining and feathery work (a novel) exists, Puccini but without the tunes, written by Morley Charles Roberts (1857-1942), very much larger than life and on the periphery of the Chelsea scene in the late 1880s. The characters are thinly disguised and ‘Mr West, the sculptor’ can confidently be taken as a model for TSL. Some references from it are welcome here – and not without with charm: “Across the narrow lane was another long studio, occupied by West the sculptor, to which was attached a shed containing works in progress and others long past hopes of sale, while at its northern extremity a bronze-casting furnace sometimes shot at night a blue flame far above its iron chimney”… and, later “… under the table was a terracotta bust of herself [the model, Miss Mary ‘Priscilla’ Morris] by West, and on it a medallion as well.” (Morley Roberts 1890: 19-20, p. 93 for the medallion; the emphasis is ours). Did Morley perhaps see the bronze roundels cast by Stirling Lee for some friends around this date?  (Kineton Parkes 1921: 112). Indeed, was Morley Roberts one of the sitters? In any event, this seems to have been the period when TSL began to produce them – within his small foundry in Chelsea Vale.

Morley Roberts also provides a physical description (of West = TSL?), and let’s take it as fairly accurate: “For no one could meet West once without liking him… [He] was a man of the middle height, very strongly built and powerful in the arms from continually using the hammer when working in marble, with a very bright and pleasing face, which indicated both sensibility and refinement. His eyes were almost sparkling in his merrier moods, but grew intense and solemn in the rarer moments when he spoke out to some sympathetic soul what a man usually keeps silence about, his hopes and desires, his aims and methods, his feeling for nature, for the world and man. For he was intensely spiritual under a thin cover of materialism, and gloried in his art, which he held to be based on Truth and Right, as both consolation and reward of the worker.” (Morley Roberts 1890: 77-9). In ‘Thomas Stirling Lee, the first Chairman’ by Geoffrey Matthews, Chelsea Arts Club Yearbook 2022, there is a photograph of TSL capturing much of what Morley Roberts finds in him.

More on medallions

TSL’s medallion relief of his friend Walter Sickert (1860-1942). TSL’s lettermark can be identified lower right. (The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge).

Although with a long and distinguished presence, in various media, the vogue for medallions seems to have come to the fore again in the first half of the 19th century – actual likenesses and idealised themes – epitomised in the work of Pierre-Jean David d’Angers. (Note that ‘medallion’ can also refer (Jezzard 1999: 99) to “larger wall plaques, memorial plaques, memorial tablets, wall tablets, commemorative medallions, medallion portraits and medallions.” Larger productions, weighing 2 kg or more, could be encased within bespoke wooden frames for wall-mounting.)

“Mrs Rodney Fennessy”, portrait medallion, made in 1889 by TSL. The date ‘1889’ can be seen lower left (The Victoria and Albert Museum).

In Britain, following the work of William Wyon (1795-1851) , the French-born artist Alphonse Legros (1837-1911) is widely seen as leading the late 19th-c revival of the medallion – favouring metal casting, pouring molten media into hollow forms. Among his preferences was to send initially his forms to Paris, where the art was perfected, and avoiding finishing effects, such as smoothing the circumference and polishing, thus eschewing the neo-classical tradition and pointing towards the Arts and Crafts movement. It can be said that Thomas Stirling Lee was an apostle in terms of his relief modelling and casting of portrait roundels (Attwood 1992: 4-10).

Bronze relief plaques (medallions) by TSL seem to be rare, perhaps a ‘hobby’ and distraction, pocket money. It is more than likely that the medallions/reliefs TSL produced for his friends and clients remain with the families – personal things that do not shout out for publication or exhibition.

What follows are the results of online searches, only, for examples of TSL’s medallions; but it is some sort of a beginning for more dedicated research by historians, if they are so minded.

Of course, if you have one we would be delighted to hear – and perhaps the series can be assembled for a TSL retrospective one day: indeed,  2026 will mark the 110th anniversary of his early death. 

Also attributed to TSL, a relief (178 mm) in a private collection, and thought to be a likeness of Christabel Annie Cockerell (Lady Frampton, 1864-1951). Another is in the Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, and an unrecognized version sold at the disposal of the contents of Claremont Court, Jersey, in September 2015 (see below).

As well as the two reliefs of Mabel Bent (1895 & 1896) already referred to, other known examples of TSL medallions include one Walter Sickert note 3  roundel in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge [M.17-2006; dated c. 1882; bronze; 158 mm; facing right; the name ‘SICKERT’ in raised letters along viewer’s right edge of the roundel]; the (?) Herbert Goodall roundel in the British Museum; the Mrs Rodney Fennessy roundel in the V&A, London [A.5-1973; 1889, 250 mm; bronze; facing right; the name ‘Mrs Rodney Fennessy’ running around the right edge].

TSL’s charismatic subject, Walter Richard Sickert RA RBA (1860-1942) (wikipedia).

The V&A also have a TSL medallion of Sickert [A.6-1973; undated; bronze; 170 mm; facing right; the name ‘W. SICKERT’ running around the right edge], as do Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery (No. 1973P40; further details forthcoming). This mercurial and influential artist seems therefore to have commissioned at least three likenesses from TSL – one more than Mabel Bent! note 3 

There is a later, rectangular, relief (c. 35 cm x c. 25 cm) of Herbert Goodall (1857-1916), architect/artist member and third club Chairman, in the Chelsea Arts Club collection. note 4  The date is uncertain, presumably TSL cast it around the same time as the BM roundel (above). (An image of it can be seen at The Goodall Family of Artists.)

The Three Walker Roundels

The Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool (wikipedia).

Dorothea Mary Short (1890-1972) bequeathed her three TSL medallions (WAG 8458-60) to the Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, and they have inventory dates there of 1973. Dorothea inherited these bronzes from her mother, Esther Rosamund Short (née Barker, 1866-1925), who was left them in 1945 on the death of her husband, the celebrated printmaker and teacher Sir Francis (Frank) Job Short RA PPRE (1857-1945). Short and TSL were friends, and both members of the Art Workers’ Guild. TSL was elected Master in 1898 and Short in 1901. (Coincidentally, the two V&A TSL bronze reliefs referenced above, Sickert and Fennessy, were also donated by Dorothea Short.)

The three Walker TSL bronze roundels are:

WAG 8458 – (George) Percy Jacomb-Hood (1857-1929, c. 210 mm, c. 1881; Exh. RSBA 1887-8 (543)). Possibly one of the set of medallions of TSL’s friends, regularly referenced.

WAG 8459 – ‘Rose’ (Esther Rosamund Barker) (c. 200 mm, c. 1888, perhaps before her marriage to Frank Short in April 1889).

WAG 8460 – ‘Young woman with piled hair’ (perhaps Christabel Annie Cockerell (Lady Frampton, 1864-1951)), (c. 170 mm, date unknown), (previously mentioned above).

The sale of the contents of Claremont Court, Jersey, in September 2015, included another version of TSL’s Christabel Annie Cockerell relief. Lot 296 was enigmatically described as “A cast bronze portrait plaque probably first half 20th century, depicting a young man in profile, 7in. (17.5cm.) diameter”. It sold for £50.

For good measure, the Walker also has a marble bust by TSL of Frank Short (WAG 8461, 330 mm x 340 mm, date unknown), and a framed plaster relief of Esther Rosamund Short (framed: c. 670 mm x 530 mm, date unknown). Both it seems were also bequeathed by their daughter Dorothea Mary in 1972/3. Regrettably, none of the TSL pieces are currently on show at the Walker and it is to be hoped they will appear online in the future.

The above, taken together with the museum’s sculptures by TSL of ‘Alderman Edward Samuelson’ (WAG 4175, marble, c. 740 mm, 1885) and also ‘Mrs H.L. Johnston’ (WAG 4214, marble, c. 290 mm x 230 mm, 1881?), fittingly, make the Walker’s TSL collection the largest in the UK it would appear. (Pers. comm. and kind assistance (August 2024), Alex Patterson (WAG) and Whitney Kerr-Lewis (V&A).)

Miscellaneous references to TSL’s medallions and other portrait reliefs

A few “beautiful heads in relief”, by TSL at the New English Art Club, Dudley Gallery, Piccadilly (Winter show 1891)(reported in the Pall Mall Gazette, 16 Dec. 1891. (Possibly the set of TSL’s friends, regularly referenced.)

“The Fifth Exhibition of the International Society of Sculptors, Painters and Gravers – In the summer of 1898 there was held at the Skating Rink, Knightsbridge, an exhibition of modern art which, from an artistic point of view, has never been surpassed in London… Mr. Stirling Lee (the energetic Honorary Secretary of the Society) is represented by two charming bronze medallions of children’s heads, and a marble bust of Mrs. T.B. Hilliard…” (The Connoisseur, International Exhibition Supplement, 1905, Vol. XI (Jan.-Apr.), 129ff.)

An untitled bronze medallion at the Manchester Art Gallery, The International Society of Sculptors, Painters and Gravers Exhibition, 1905.

An untitled bronze medallion at the City of Bradford Corporation Art Gallery, Cartwright Memorial Hall Exhibition of The International Society of Sculptors, Painters, and Gravers, 1905.

Five untitled bronze medallions on show at the Leeds City Art Gallery Exhibition, 1909 (the set advertised at 10 guineas each).

An untitled bronze medallion on show at the ‘Exhibition of Fair Women’, Spring 1909 – International Society of Sculptors, Painters and Gravers, London.

Page 18 from Sotheby’s sale catalogue of Friday, 16 March 1923 – “Representative selection of works of art, by Nelson Dawson, Esq., A.R.W.S., R.E., R.W.A.” (Sotheby, Wilkinson & Hodge, 1923) – showing the sale of seven works by Thomas Stirling Lee. Of interest are the sale prices for the two marble heads, Lots 179 and 180 (£2k-£3k at today’s rates); the medallions of Sickert and Goodall are thought to be the ones now in the Fitzwilliam and British Museum accordingly (see above) (archive.org).

Sotheby’s, 16 March 1923, had a sale featuring the art collection of Nelson and Edith Dawson, including seven bronzes, “with rights of reproductions”, by “the late T. Stirling Lee”: Lot 179, “Head of a Girl; Lot 180, “Head of Mrs La Thangue” note 3 ; (Lot 181), “Medallions of Walter Sickert and [Herbert/Frederick] Goodall, the landscape painter” [the item presumably in the British Museum; note 3  Lot 182, “Three Figure Panels”.

It seems the painter Alfred William Rich (1856-1921) had in his collection a medallion by TSL which was eventually bequeathed to an unspecified museum by his wife Phillippa (Holliday) through the Art Fund between 1933 and 1935. It is referred to as a “Bronze Plaque of Girl’s Head”. It is impossible to know from research so far whether this roundel is one of those listed above. We may assume Rich and TSL were acquainted via the activities of the ‘International Society of Sculptors, Painters and Gravers’, inter alia. Philippa in 1884 – might TSL have modelled a plaque of her for the painter?

Other busts

Perhaps in return for Wilson Steer’s portrait of him, or vice versa (see reference above), TSL does a bronze of Philip Wilson Steer (1860-1942), who died 1942. It was said to have been left to the Tate (Birmingham Daily Post, 17 July 1942), but is now in the Williamson Art Gallery & Museum, Birkenhead (along with a marble likeness of Dorothy (Seton), one of James McNeill Whistler’s models).  It is not unreasonable to think that one of TSL’s earlier medallions also featured Wilson Steer, but there does not seem to be a direct reference to one.

TSL was an active member of the Art Workers’ Guild, and was elected Master in 1898. The Guild has a fine bronze bust of him (c. 1898), mallet and chisel in his hands, by Arthur George Walker (1861-1939). The Guild also displays TSL’s bronze (1900) of Sir Mervyn Macartney (1853-1932), commemorating Sir Marvyn’s year as Master, as well as TSL’s bust of John Brett (1831-1902), a British artist associated with the Pre-Raphaelites.

TSL attended Westminster School briefly (1870-1), his bust of Richard Busby (1606-1695), who served as headmaster for more than 55 years, was placed in the school for the bicentenary of Busby’s death in 1895. (TSL left abruptly to join the studio of sculptor John Birnie Philip as an apprentice.)

Other bronze plaques (non-portrait)

TSL produced several bronze relief plaques of religious and idealised themes throughout his career. An example is his ‘Mother and Child’, sold at auction in London in 2014.

Exhibitions and other works

The essential site for the works in general of Thomas Stirling Lee at “Mapping the Practice and Profession of Sculpture in Britain & Ireland 1851-1951”, edited online by the University of Glasgow History of Art and HATII.

The essential site for the works in general of TSL is to be found at “Mapping the Practice and Profession of Sculpture in Britain & Ireland 1851-1951”, edited online by the University of Glasgow History of Art and HATII. It is indispensable, beginning with a concise introduction to the artist. It features interactive sections on Works, Locations, Exhibitions, Meetings, Awards, many Lectures and other Events, Institutional and Business Connections, Personal and Professional Connections, Descriptions of Practice, Sources.

TSL’s works travelled around the world for exhibitions, i.e. a medallion (unspecified, item 927, cat. Page 45) appeared at the Christchurch Gallery, New Zealand, for the “New Zealand International Exhibition, 1906-7”.

There are several reference to TSL in ‘The Arts & Crafts Exhibition Society Catalogues’ for the 3rd exhibition in 1890 (at The New Gallery, 121 Regent Street, London) and the 11th in 1916 (the year of his death) (at The Royal Academy, Burlington House, London). For the 3rd exhibition TSL worked with A.G. Walker on a design by J.D. Sedding for an altar of alabaster, lapis-lazuli and metal (the plaster panels shown were intended to be repoussé metal). For the 1916 event, F.A. White lent three panels of saints carved by TSL – ‘St Ninian’, ‘St Bridget’, and ‘St Columba’. The material is unspecified. These were perhaps models of the representations of these saints produced by TSL for Westminster Cathedral (see below). This event was TSL’s last – he was to die suddenly in 1916, ineligible for the Great War, in progress now two years.

For the list of works displayed by TSL at the Royal Academy from 1878-1902, see Graves 1905: 21.

Other commissions

The Liverpool controversy

The following excerpt relates to the most significant commission of TSL’s career; it is taken from the University of Glasgow’s ‘History of Art and HATII’, online database 2011 – Mapping the Practice and Profession of Sculpture in Britain & Ireland 1851-1951. [This site presents unparalleled data on the working life of TSL.]

A sketch model for one of TSL’s panels for St George’s Hall, Liverpool. The nudity was considered inappropriate and the sculptor never completed the commission; the disappointment remained with him throughout his career. This is one of the illustrations accompanying the sculptor’s obituary in ‘The International Studio’, vol. 59, no. 235, 1916: 176 (archive.org).

“[TSL’s] most important commission was the series of reliefs for the exterior of St George’s Hall, Liverpool. Lee was originally awarded the entire scheme of sculpture comprising twelve large reliefs and sixteen smaller panels (the latter on the upper parts of the building) through an open competition organised by Liverpool Council in 1882. However, due to a combination of high costs and the mixed reception that Lee’s first two relief panels received, only six relating to ‘The Progress of Justice’ (situated to the left of the portico) were completed under the original plans (1885-94).” (See, e.g., Dorment 1985: 24; Beattie 1983: 43 ff, including images)

TSL also carved two (less contentious) panels for St. George’s Hall, i.e. for its so-called ‘National Progress’ series, one being: “‘Liverpool, a fishing village, gives her sons the boat and the net’. Liverpool has just given the fishing net to the young stripling on the right, and now hands a model of a boat to an older man, perhaps a merchant shipman, respectably dressed in a cloak.” There are six panels in the series, two by TSL, on the east facade of the building, to the right of the central portico. They were commissioned in 1895, the last being installed in 1901. The other four were the works of Charles John Allen and Conrad Dressler. (Photo: Robert Freidus; text: R. Freidus and J. Banerjee; see also T. Cavanagh, ‘The Public Sculpture of Liverpool’, Liverpool, 1996) (Victorian Web).

The issue became a grand cause célèbre, with the artistic community generally rallying around TSL to get the contract honoured and completed. At a special meeting of the ‘National Association for the Advancement of Art and its Application to Industry’ on 30 October 1889, a special Resolution, endorsed by hundreds of artists, sculptors, architects, etc., was passed to the effect: “That the Mayor and Corporation of Liverpool be approached with an expression of the hope that they will reconsider their decision to discontinue the decoration of St. George’s Hall by Mr. Stirling Lee and in accordance with his designs.” The Liverpool authorities were on the horns of a dilemma; they could not be seen to be spending City funds on designs that many considered, in many instances hypocritically, inappropriate, but at the same time a project much admired by influential voices within the artistic community. Ultimately a compromise was reached when “Mr. P.H. Rathbone liberally offered to defray the cost of making and setting up the remaining four panels, designed by Mr. T.S. Lee for St. George’s Hall.” (Transactions of the National Association for the Advancement of Art and its Application to Industry 1889-91, Vol. 2, pp. xiv-xv)

For Morris (1997: 52) (who goes into the Liverpool debacle sensitively,  “The whole Liverpool experience deeply demoralised the sculptor and his later work lacks the intensity and vision of the St George’s Hall reliefs. He was, however, well-educated, highly trained, sociable and articulate, and his importance lies in his ideas and influence rather than in his sculpture…”

It seems the designs TSL came up with for some carved stone panels to decorate some late-phase alterations to Leeds Town Hall, across the Pennines, were less controversial.

TSL’s bronze panels for the former Adelphi Bank, Liverpool

TSL’s four bronze panels (1892) for the former Adelphi Bank, Liverpool. Representing ‘David and Jonathan’, ‘Castor and Pollux’, ‘Achilles and Patroclus’, and Roland and Oliver’, they were cast for him by his friend and Chelsea neighbour, Conrad Bührer (The Victorian Web).

The sculptor’s bronze work includes the four relief panels on the great doors to the former Adelphi Bank building on the corner of Castle Street and Brunswick Street, Liverpool. (To appreciate the doors properly today you will need to wait until the coffee shop they open into is closed.) The overall design was by W.D. Caröe (1857-1938) and completed in 1892. Taking its theme from the bank’s name, Adelphi (‘brotherhood’), TSL’s panels – two per door, one above the other – were to represent ‘David and Jonathan’, ‘Castor and Pollux’, ‘Achilles and Patroclus’, and Roland and Oliver’. The panels were cast for TSL by his friend and Chelsea neighbour Conrad Bührer  (1839-1929). Caröe’s design for the date on the doors is cryptic – on the left reading ‘1A8’ and on the right ‘9D2’ (i.e. AD 1892). For more information, see the Martin’s Bank archive and the Victorian Web. [Although this article focuses on TSL’s medallions, and Mabel Bent, readers might like to be reminded that Theodore Bent’s uncle, Sir John Bent (1793-1857), was Mayor of Liverpool in 1850/1.]

Prestigious commissions in marble

Angus Vickers by Philip Alexius de László (findagrave.com)

At the Royal Academy Exhibition (London) of 1911, TSL showed his marble bust of ‘Master Angus Vickers’ (cat. no.1820, p.106). Angus (1904-1990) was a young scion of the famous Vickers engineering family, being one of the three sons of Douglas Vickers (1861-1937), and this work was clearly a very prestigious commission for TSL; the boy was around six or seven years of age. Presumably the bust is still with the family and no image of this work seems to have been published. The photo shown here is a detail from a portrait of him painted when he was 21.

Edgar Wood

‘Mother and Child’, the small bronze by TSL at Long St Methodist Church, Middleton.

TSL took on several commissions for the busy ‘Arts & Crafts’ architect Edgar Wood (1860-1935). These included some ornate marble decorations for fireplaces at the Grade-1 listed Banney Royd House, Edgerton, Huddersfield (1901); sculpture and copper roof for the Clock Tower (listed Grade 2) in Lindley, Huddersfield (1900-2); and a small bronze statue, Woman and Child, at Long Street Methodist Church, Middleton, Greater Manchester (1903). (Click for a visit (Sept 2024) by TSL’s great, great nephew – by happenstance also Thomas Stirling Lee – to see the statue in the church.)

There is a suggestion that TSL provided the statue of the boy, now lost, for the extraordinary fountain centrepiece for Edgar Wood’s Jubilee Park, also in Middleton. It was opened in 1889 to commemorate the Golden Jubilee of Queen Victoria. Some commentators have likened the statue to TSL’s small model “The Music of the Wind”, now in the (stored) Sam Wilson Collection in Leeds (see above) (Jubilee Park Fountain, Middleton – Advice on Restoration, 2015: 24-5).

Silver work & Masonic jewels

TSL was an active Freemason: “A new lodge, for the convenience of professors of the arts of sculpture and painting, was consecrated on Tuesday [13 June 1899], at Freemasons’ Hall, London… The lodge is numbered 2751 on the roll of Grand Lodge of England.” TSL was appointed one of the officers. (The Freemason’s Chronicle, 17 June 1899, pp.287-9)

Centre-piece in silver by TSL (archive.org).

A spectacular and very rare centre-piece in silver for a table decoration for an unknown commission, designed and sculpted by Thomas Stirling Lee (c. 1904, dimensions n/a). Present collection unknown. (Illustrated in W.S. Sparrow 1904. The British home of today; a book of modern domestic architecture & the applied arts: 207, New York.)

 

A much-reproduced piece of sculpture by TSL is his spirited “Music of the Wind” of around 1907. A model in wax is now in Leeds, part of the Sam Wilson Collection (1851-1918); apparently a version in silver also exists, explaining the reference to it in this section of the works of TSL. It seems the entire Sam Wilson Collection (he was a local textile magnate) was placed in storage by the Leeds Art Gallery in 2009, and thus these sculptures by TSL must languish there (for a fine illustration, see Morris 1997: 53).

A Freemason, TSL was a founder of the ‘Arts Lodge’, designing splendid and unusual masonic jewels, i.e, ‘Past First Principal’s jewel for Public Schools Chapter, No. 2233 presented to E. Comp. Herbert F. Manisty, 1909’ and ‘Past First Principal’s jewel for Public Schools Chapter, No. 2233 presented to E. Comp. J. S. Granville Grenfell, 1917’, the latter presented after TSL’s death in 1916 (Cherry 2020).

A brief obituary appeared in Ars Quatuor Coronatorum: being the transactions of the Lodge Quatuor Coronati (No. 2076, London, V.29, 1916, p.331): “Thomas Stirling Lee, a well known sculptor, of Chelsea, on the 28th June, 1916, in the sixtieth year of his age. Bro. Lee was a Past Master of the Old Westminsters’ Lodge No. 2233, and held the rank of Assistant Grand Superintendent of Works of England. He became a member of the Correspondence Circle in January, 1906.”

Monuments

From the Henry Sadler monument, New Southgate Cemetery (Sector L), London, 1911. Reverse side of cross showing the ‘Triple Tau’, sculpted by Thomas Stirling Lee (Bent Archive, 19/08/2026).

TSL designed the memorial, paid for by members and friends, for fellow mason Henry Sadler (d. 1911), in New Southgate Cemetery, London. It was commissioned by the Grand Lodge, for whom Sadler was archivist/librarian. The monument was in the form of a cross on a pillar resting on an inscribed base. The total height was about 2.2 m in a rectangular plot. It has since collapsed and the cross piece is face down, awaiting restoration. What we see today on the reverse face is the ‘Triple Tau’ symbol, the grand emblem of Royal Arch Masonry. It comprises three intersecting T-shaped ‘Tau’ crosses, i.e. the letter T on the bar of an H.

Detail of TSL’s work on the base of the 1911 Sadler monument, New Southgate Cemetery (Bent Archive, 2026).

The carved and inscribed base of the monument is now in a section of the cemetery’s Sector K set aside for wildlife preservation, with the fallen pillar and cross nearby. Poignantly, just five years later, TSL was buried in the same cemetery, 100 m away in Sector K (see below).

Interiors

“Panel of wall staircase in Mr. Geoffrey Duveen’s House. Designed and carved by T. Stirling Lee” (‘The International Studio’, vol. 59, no. 235, 1916: 176; archive.org).

TSL designed and produced features for the Duveen residence at 22 Old Bond  Street, London, and the interior of Palace Gate House, Kensington Gore: “The stranger… will not be tempted to hurry up the stairway where Mr. Stirling Lee and Mr. Frith together have thought out the modelling of the plaster ceiling and the arrangement of the balustrade.” And for the ‘museum room’, “Mr. Stirling Lee has here two little figures of Science and Literature standing out from the wall” (The International Studio, vol. 7, 1899: 99-100). The two little figures are untraced.

Part of an oak balustrade carved by Thomas Stirling Lee for 15 Stratton Street, London (c.1904). W.S. Sparrow 1904. The British home of today; a book of modern domestic architecture & the applied arts, New York, p. 208 (archive.org).

For H.A. Johnstone’s magnificent residence at 15 Stratton Street, London, TSL carved (c. 1904) from oak a series of “double-sided carved panels of entwined and realistically depicted children”, for a gallery balustrade. They were removed when the house underwent reconstruction. Provenance includes: Peter Marino Art Foundation, NY.

Church commissions

Westminster Cathedral, Ashley Place, London: “Chapel of St Andrew and the Scottish Saints, the gift of Lord Bute and the work of R. Weir Schultz 1910-14. Lean openwork screens of white metal by W. Bainbridge Reynolds; sculpture by Stirling Lee, stalls by Ernest Gimson (considered amongst his finest works) with kneelers by Sidney Barnsley, reliquary by Harold Stabler and altar cards by Graily Hewitt.”

St Mary’s, Stamford Parish, Lincolnshire: an “excellent bronze altar frontal in an Italian style by Stirling Lee”, as part of  J.D. Seddings’ decorative scheme of the 1890s.

St James’, Heyshott, West Sussex: In Arthur Mee’s volume on Sussex in ‘The King’s England’ series (London 1937: 105), the author writes in relation to St James’ Heyshott: “The reredos has a plaster relief gilded and set in an old wood frame. It shows Christ in the centre with angels wrapped up in their wings on each side. It is the work of Stirling Lee, who lived here and died suddenly while doing it.” [This entry is now hard to support as the reredos referenced is not in situ. The Heyshott ‘Post Office Directory’ entry for 1911 lists TSL as residing, apparently, at Hoyle, just a few km s/w of Heyshott. The wonderful countryside made a welcome change from the Chelsea fogs and TSL would stroll and paint watercolours there – one entitled “Evening on Hoyle Common” was exhibited by him at a New English Art Club event.]

All Saints, Brockhampton, Herefordshire, UK. A unique Arts & Crafts church built around 1900 by the renowned architect/designer William Richard Lethaby (1857-1931). TSL was commissioned to carve the reredos.

St Paul’s Church, Four Elms, Kent, UK. After 1881, TSL helped assisted Henry Pegram with the carving  of the reredos here (a plainly framed white marble relief of the Adoration of the Magi designed by W.R. Lethaby.

TSL was also on the team behind a scheme to redevelop the old Liverpool Cathedral but this was abandoned.

Bespoke carving

In 1891, TSL undertook a commission (Pall Mall Gazette, 4 Nov. 1891) to carve a figurehead for millionaire Wallace M. Johnstone’s (of 3 St James’s St, London SW) steam-yacht (possibly the The Lady Nell). This work, if complete, has not yet surfaced.

Three plaster panels – “reminding one forcibly of Blake at his best”

Cover page of a ‘Caxton Head’ catalogue (archive.org).

In the eclectic ‘Caxton Head Catalogue, No. 735’, of 6 January 1913, page 14, under ‘Sculpture’, three unusual TSL plaster panels were offered for sale by the great dealer James Tregaskis, at his house at the sign of the Caxton Head, 232, High Holborn, London, W.C. (“Every item has been collated with care, and is therefore guaranteed perfect unless the contrary is indicated.”)

“Original plaster panels in high relief, designed by Mr. Thomas Stirling Lee, and modelled by him. Magnificent examples of a very high order of mural decoration, by one of our foremost living sculptors, the boldness of their symbolic conception reminding one forcibly of Blake at his best.

“Cat. No. 992: ‘The children of the light holding their child in the rays of the sun.’ [Symbolizing the Light of Immortality]. 55 in. by 8 in. Bronzed. In massive oak and gold frame, glazed. 75 guineas.

“Cat. No. 993: ‘Pluto taking Proserpina down to the shades; with two side panels: The Metamorphosis of the Nymphs into Trees and Plants.’ [The centre panel symbolises the flowers hidden in the earth, the side panels the change of the seed into the tree and plant]. Each 8 in. by 13 in. In massive oak gold frames, glazed. The three, 36 guineas.

“Cat. No. 994: ‘Pluto and his Fire Horses; with side panels: Love taking her Child from the flames of Fire, and Truth testing her Child in the Fire’. [Symbolising the moral influences of Fire]. Each 8 in. by 16 in. In massive oak and gilt frames, glazed. The three, 36 guineas.”

Presumably these three mysterious panels, unfortunately not illustrated,  were sold to a private collector, or returned to TSL. No other information on them seems to appear online. The reference to Blake is fascinating and seems to be unique. TSL’s poetic Liverpool panels could have stepped right from, inter alia, ‘Jerusalem’; and we dream again of Blake the sculptor…

Lost masterpieces

Three works by TSL in particular generated early interest in the young sculptor. All were exhibited at the Royal Academy and all are now unrecorded. Hopefully they are still being enjoyed within private collections, but they might also be lost. They do not appear to have featured in exhibitions or publications since the early 1900s. Perhaps still in TSL’s possession at his death they may well have passed to the family of his nephew, Gilbert Stirling Lee, of whom TSL was fond – his wife modelled for him.

Two of these works have already been referenced above, Adam and Eve finding the Dead Body of Abel, and Cain, exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1881 (TSL was 24 or 25). Sadly, there appear to be no illustrations of them.

Catalogue of the ‘International Exhibition’ held in Glasgow in 1888, at which TSL shows his marble of “Cain” (item 1551, catalogue p. 91), offering it for sale, it seems, for £1000 – tens of thousands at today’s rate (archive.org).

The Encyclopædia Britannica (1916, Vol. 24, p. 526), in its entry on modern British sculpture, opines: “[TSL’s] statue of ‘Cain’, extremely simple in conception, is a masterpiece of expression.” After the RA show of 1881, the marble appears again at the ‘International Exhibition’ held in Glasgow in 1888, labelled as “Cain” (item 1551, catalogue p. 91), and with an accompanying biblical quote: “And Cain said unto the Lord. My punishment is greater than I can bear. Behold, thou hast driven me out this day from the face of the earth.’ – Genesis iv.13, 14. There is a sale price included – £1000: an astonishing sum.

Unsurprisingly, in 1897 Cain was still in the sculptor’s collection and he lent it to the large “Victorian Era” event that year at London’s Earl’s Court. It is listed in the catalogue (item 468, p. 37) as “Cain.” “Mine iniquity is greater than I can bear” (based on Genesis 3:17). In 1908 it seems TSL showed it again (but perhaps as a plaster figure, item 1386, p. 130 of the catalogue) at the extensive ‘Franco-British Exhibition’ in London. The fratricide seems to have disappeared after that date…

The Dawn of Womanhood

TSL’s ‘The Dawn of Womanhood’ (dimensions unknown, before 1883, versions in marble and plaster)(archive.org)

It was in 1883, when TSL was in his early twenties, that the young sculptor exhibited his ‘Dawn of Womanhood’ – his other lost masterpiece – at the Royal Academy; a bravura piece very much reflecting the modern, fluid French style he had immersed himself in in Paris during his studies there (1880-1). Its reception was mixed from the start, with The Builder (19 May 1883, p.661) printing that “Mr. Stirling Lee’s contorted figure called by the magnificent title, ‘Dawn of Womanhood’, [is] one of the instances of titles far above the real achievement of the work. The recumbent figure, with head thrown back and agonised expression in the features, suggests rather the idea of ‘night-mare’.”

Edmund Gosse is more considered and measured in his (later) analysis when reviewing contemporary sculpture (1894):

“A step forward was taken in 1883 by Mr. T. Stirling Lee, in his ‘Dawn of Womanhood,’ a recumbent nude statue which attracted a great deal of somewhat bewildered attention in the [Royal Academy] Lecture Room. Never had anything of the kind been seen in England in which crude realism had been carried so far… [No] photograph does justice to this strange work, to which we look back with interest and amusement. The sculptor had, it is impossible to doubt, seen the Byblis changée en Source, by which Suchetet had, the preceding year, awakened a furore in Paris. Mr. Lee had perceived, with an artist’s instinct, how delightful and fresh that minute study of nature was. But he had missed the tact which so bold an experiment demanded. His ‘Dawn of Womanhood’ was like an absolute cast from the flesh. There was no selection of type, no striving after beauty of line; the figure was a literal copy of an ugly naked woman. Mr. Lee had not realised that, without style, Art does not exist. His experiment was interesting, and it distinctly marked a step in the progress of the school, but its influence was slight.” (‘The New Sculpture III, 1879-1894’, The Art Journal 1894, p.277)

In his all-embracing review of British sculpture, Bob Speel describes the subject, in his exploration of the theme of ‘dawn’, as “a young, awkward, almost gawky figure… a nude girlish figure in the act of awakening, mid stretch and with one hand against her hair”.

Four years after her Royal Academy debut, the (unsold) Dawn was exhibited by TSL at the 1887 ‘Royal Jubilee Exhibition’ in Manchester (item no. 942, p.324 in the catalogue), and then the following year at the 1888 ‘International Exhibition’, Glasgow (item no. 1634, p.94 , in the catalogue of the Fine Arts section), where she was offered for sale at £1000, easily over £50,000 today.

It seems to have been a decade later that she next made a spectacular appearance – at the 1897 ‘Victorian Era Exhibition’, Earl’s Court, London (page 36 of their catalogue, item 430). (Perhaps she found a buyer here, as a plaster copy only was on show at the 1901 ‘International Exhibition’, Glasgow – page 110 of its catalogue, item 80.)

And after 1901 Dawn of Womanhood seems to have vanished, with no reference to her in any collection today.

TSL the landscape artist

“The Fine Art Society has been exhibiting… landscapes by Mr. T. Stirling Lee. Mr. Lee, who is so well known as a sculptor, revealed a highly sympathetic treatment of landscape in his paintings (The international Studio 1897: 159). Perhaps these will appear one day.

TSL obituaries

“Ideal Bust by T. Stirling Lee”, one of the illustrations accompanying the sculptor’s obituary in ‘The International Studio’, vol. 59, no. 235, 1916: 176 (archive.org).

“London – We regret to record the death of Mr. T. Stirling Lee, the well-known sculptor, who died suddenly at the end of June [1916]. The second son of Mr. John S. Lee, of Macclesfield, he was educated at Westminster School and then apprenticed to [John Birnie Philip], who was finishing the Albert Memorial. Mr. Lee studied at the same time at the Slade School, where he showed such aptitude for art that Mr. Armitage, R.A., advised his being sent to Paris, there being no school for sculpture in London at that time. Accordingly he next worked at the Petites Ecoles des Beaux Arts, and gained a first and a second medal during his first term. Subsequently he became a fellow-student with Alfred Gilbert in Professor Cavelier’s atelier, where he gained the R.A. gold medal and travelling scholarship, as well as the Composition Gold Medal of the Beaux Arts. At twenty-five Mr. Lee won the competition for the decoration of St. George’s Hall, Liverpool, but long delay on the part of the Corporation caused the young sculptor much early disappointment, and though he was allowed to finish part of his work, he died without seeing his life’s work completed. Two of his finest early works are Adam and Eve finding the Dead Body of Abel and Cain exhibited in the Royal Academy in 1881. He has done a good many portrait busts of notable people, amongst others Sir Frank Short’s daughter [see the ‘Walker Roundels’ section above] and Miss Kitty Shannon (1887-1974) [perhaps the subject of another unidentified medallion. Kitty, herself a talented illustrator, was the daughter of TSL’s acquaintance, and owner of some of his sculpture, Sir James Jebusa Shannon (1862-1923)]… He was one of the very few who carved direct in marble, from life. The later period of his art has been largely devoted to ecclesiastical work, an excellent example of which is his altar-piece in Westminster Cathedral, and he quite recently completed another altar-piece showing the Wise Men of the East, in which his love of symbolism found expression. As a sculptor Mr. Lee’s work was very individual. He was greatly attracted by the Early Greeks, and he was a born carver, with a strong sense of pattern.” (‘Studio-Talk’, The International Studio, vol. 59, no. 235, 1916: 175-6)

(For criticism of TSL’s carving from life, see Kineton Parkes 1931: 43.)

“The late Mr. Stirling Lee, sculptor – Many friends and lovers of art will deeply regret the sudden death of Mr. Thomas Stirling Lee, the well known sculptor. Mr. Stirling Lee was the sculptor of the reliefs at S. George’s Hall, Liverpool, which created some controversy at the time, but happily remain as Mr. Lee designed them, one of the finest monuments of his genius. This is indeed a satisfaction to those who remember the necessity for strenuously opposing any modification of the original design, for Mr. Lee was a sculptor of remarkable individuality and power, and had the distinction of his fellow-sculptors’ admiration in an unusual degree. Perhaps the greatest loser by his death will be the Church Crafts League, of which he was one of the original founders and a guiding spirit. The League was formed to bring the clergy into a better understanding of the arts, and into closer communication with artists. Much useful work has been done by it, mainly under Mr. Lee’s guidance. He was also the first secretary of the International Society of Artists.” (The Burlington Magazine For Connoisseurs, V. 29, 1916, p.264)

For other TSL obituaries, see, e.g., The Builder, 7 July 1916: 4 (‘We regret to announce the death, suddenly, on June 29, of Mr. Thomas Stirling Lee… ’); The Building News, No. 3209, 5 July 1916: 21 (‘Mr. Thomas Stirling Lee, sculptor, of the Vale Studio, Vale Avenue, Chelsea, fell unconscious in the arcade at South Kensington Station on Thursday [29 June 1916], and on being conveyed to St. George’s Hospital was found to be dead… The funeral took place yesterday (Tuesday [4 July 1916]) afternoon at New Southgate.’). Similar notices appeared, inter alia, in the Liverpool Echo (30 June 1916) and the Evening Mail (30 June 1916). It seems the solicitor acting for his estate was a member of the Jacomb Hood family (S Jacomb Hood, 27 Buckingham-gate, Westminster) (The London Gazette, 6 October 1916, p. 9694). His grave is illustrated below.

TSL’s addresses

Given variously as The Vale, 326 Kings Road, London; 35 Craven Street, Strand, London; Merton Villa Studios, Manresa Road, London. It seems his final London address (as well as his Chelsea studio) was 1 Campion Road, Putney (probably a modest Victorian villa, now demolished), and by 1916 he also had a base in the country, at Hoyle, near Selham, Sussex (The London Gazette, 6 October 1916, p. 9694).

The Lee family: A dynasty of surveyors, builders, architects, and artists.

John Swanwick Lee (1830-1883) = Janet Sterling (June 1851) (d. 1889) – their children: 1) John Stirling Lee (1852-1886) = Emma Charlotte Stevens – their child, Gilbert Stirling Lee (1878-1966); 2) Helena Lee (1854-1922); 3) Thomas Stirling Lee  (1856-1916); 4) Philip Stirling Lee (1858-1909) = Mary Maud Single (b. 1858) – their children: a) Sarah Lee (b. 1868); Jane Lee (b. 1873); Philip (b. 1884); Eveline (b. 1887); Alfred (b. 1888); Lulu (b. 1890).

Obituary of TSL’s father and the Lee family grave, in which TSL rests 

The Late Mr. J. Swanwick Lee

Thomas Stirling Lee is buried in his family plot (99, Sector K) in the New Southgate Cemetery, Brunswick Park Rd, London (51.62370290623633, -0.1447617412141977). The plot was granted to his father, John Swanwick Lee, in 1865, to hold six coffins, for which the latter paid seven guineas (cemetery records). Stirling Lee was buried there on Tuesday, 4 July 1916. Apparently his friends contributed to the upright memorial seen today. The plot is somewhat dilapidated and no inscriptions are visible apart from a few words. Unfortunately, both small figures on the sides of the elaborate headstone (one circled) are now headless (19/08/2026) (Bent Archive).

“We regret to have to announce the death of Mr. John Swanwick Lee, of Craven-street, the senior partner in the eminent firm of surveyors of that name. Although Mr. Lee has passed to his rest at the comparatively early age of 54, the extent of the works upon which he has been engaged would occupy too great a space for us to attempt any detailed notice of them. As a building surveyor his practice extended to all parts of the kingdom, and even to France. His association with the late Sir Gilbert Scott, and other leading architects for upwards of 30 years, brought him into connection with the largest and most important public and other works of his generation. It is not too much to say that more than 500 works bear his well-known signature on the estimates.

“Mr. Lee’s practice combined land and estate works with building, and, as an engineer, his works at Seaford Bay, Sussex, show a thoroughly practical way of protecting land endangered by the sea at moderate cost.

“In all mathematical questions Mr. Lee took a great interest, and contributed a paper on the Great Pyramid triangle, which may lay the foundation of important scientific results. Mr. Lee’s death will be mourned by a large circle of professional friends and acquaintances, and his loss to the immediate neighbourhood of his residence at Southgate will be greatly felt. Into every philanthropic or other movement for the benefit of the locality he threw himself with the utmost heartiness, and a great gloom has come over the neighbourhood by his death. Mr. Lee came from Macclesfield, and was a pupil of the late Mr. Charles Balam, surveyor. He leaves three sons, two of whom are partners in his firm, and his second son is Mr. Thomas Stirling Lee, sculptor.

“In all relations of life Mr. Lee was just and upright, and gained the respect of all with whom he came in contact. We extend our heartiest sympathy to his family in their great sorrow at the irreparable loss.” (The Building News, 5 Jan. 1883: 9)

We may assume that John Swanwick Lee provided well for all his children. His son, TSL, was able to live comfortably in Chelsea and in Sussex. The London Gazette of 6 October 1916 gives notice of his estate at the time of his death.

Another indicator of TSL’s private means was his willingness to invest in the works of fellow artists, many of them close friends. To the Spring 1903 Whitechapel Art Gallery Exhibition (London) TSL lent five pictures from his private collection: “Thames at Chelsea” by A. Holloway; “Yarmouth” by T. F. Goodall; “Sussex Downs” by James Charles; “Moonlight Walk” by J. S. Christie; and “Moonlight on Cairn” by James Paterson, A.R.S.A.

On his death in 1916, TSL’s large private collection passed through the hands of his executor, nephew, Gilbert Stirling Lee. Presumably the collection is now widely dispersed. TSL carved a marble head of GSL’s wife (1908), on show at ‘The Exhibition of Fair Women (International Society of Sculptors, Painters and Gravers, London)’.

Footnotes

Note 1:  “Miss J.D.S. Aldworth, an Irish artist who is rising to distinction in London, has had the honour of submitting to her Highness the Duchess of York the pastel painting which she presented to be sold for the benefit of the Princess Mary Village Houses. Miss Aldworth studied first in London, and subsequently in Paris, under M. R. L. Fleury… and has exhibited in the Royal Academy, the Institute of Painters, the Royal Hibernian Academy, and other shows. Miss Aldworth. who belongs to a well-known Cork family, is a successful portrait painter in oils and pastels, and adds another name to the long roll of talented Irish artists. Amongst the best portraits in oils we may mention that of the late Theodore Bent, F.R.G.S., F.S.A.” – Dublin Daily Express (1 August 1898). See also http://tambent.com/2018/01/24/papers-say-lost-oil-portrait-of-theodore-bent-discovered-now-read-on/
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Note 2:  This medallion dated 1896 is reproduced on p. xx of The Travel Chronicles of Mrs J. Theodore Bent, Vol. 2 (Oxford, 2012).
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Note 3:  Herbert or Frederick Goodall: The British Museum does not (as yet) specify the sitter on their Collection site page for COL object CME15800. It was purchased from the Fine Art Society and the BM acquisition register records the medallion as being of Herbert Goodall but the attribution is under investigation (BM pers. comm., 17 June 2024). The National Portrait Gallery seems to have additional provenance information on the object: “[After] c. 1870. Bronze relief medallion, 160 mm diameter, inscr. ‘GOODALL’, head, profile to right; Christie’s, 14 June 1973 (40); Sotheby’s, Belgravia, 7-8 Nov. 1973 (17). Bearded, so after c. 1870. Almost certainly the plaque of Goodall by Thomas Stirling Lee, exh. Armstrong-Davis G., Arundel, 1978.”

Mrs Rodney John Fennessy: Emily, née Selous  (1837-1915). Fennessy (1837-1915) was manager of the River Plate Bank of London and Buenos Aires, residing at 37 Brunswick Square, London. Emily is known to have exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1873, 1882, and 1883 (Algernon Graves, The Royal Academy of Arts. A Complete Dictionary of Contributors and their work from its foundation in 1769 to 1904, Vol. 3, London, 1905, pp. 97-8; and see http://victorian-studies.net/gissing/newsletter-journal/journal-48-2.pdf).

We are grateful to Nadine Lees, Digital Co-ordinator (Digital Media & Rights), Birmingham Museums, for initial information on TSL Sickert medallion No. 1973P40. There is currently no photograph available and the item is presumably in store.
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Note 4:  Pers. comm. June 2024, Stephen Bartley, Hon. Archivist, Chelsea Arts Club Archive. (TSL was elected the Club’s first Chair in 1890 and that Steer was a founder Member.  Frank Short succeeded TSL as Club Chair in 1894 and he was succeeded by Herbert Goodall in 1897.  Herbert was an architect and the son of Frederick Goodall RA).
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Note 5:  Happily, this charming, unidentified, bronze (1919-006) is still in Bradford’s Cartwright Hall Museum, but currently in store, along with an anonymous marble head (1919-005). Two heads being better than one, “[the] works of art which the Free Libraries Committee propose to buy for the Cartwright Hall, and the prices, are as follows: No. 596 Head in bronze (Stirling Lee), £100; No. 595, Head in marble (Stirling Lee), £100 ….” (Bradford Daily Telegraph, Saturday, 6th January 1906). A photo is unavailable at this stage, but perhaps it will appear in the future (pers. comm. Dr Lauren Padgett, Assistant Curator of Collections, Bradford District Museums and Galleries, July 2024).
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Other acknowledgements

Victoria Crabb and staff at the New Southgate Cemetery, Brunswick Park Rd, London, for their invaluable help in locating the graves of the Stirling Lee family and Henry Sadler.

References & Further reading

Attwood, P. 1992. Artistic Circles. The Medal in Britain 1880-1918. London: British Museum.

Beattie, Susan 1983. New Sculpture. London: Yale University Press.

Cherry, Martin  2020. ‘Freemasonry and the Art Workers’ Guild: The Arts Lodge No. 2751, 1899-1935’, in R. Wolf and A. Luxenberg (eds) Freemasonry and the Visual Arts from the Eighteenth Century Forward: Historical and Global Perspectives: 203-226. Bloomsbury: London.

Dorment, Richard 1985. Alfred Gilbert. London: Yale University Press. [Containing several references to their friendship]

The Fitzwilliam Museum Syndicate’s Annual Report and list of Accessions made during the period 1 August 2006 – 31 July 2007. Cambridge, 2008: 18. [For the medallion of W. Sickert]

Gosse, Edmund = see ‘The New Sculpture’.

Graves, Algernon 1905. The Royal Academy of Arts; a complete dictionary of contributors and their work from its foundation in 1769 to 1904, Vol. 5, p. 21, London: Graves. [For works displayed by TSL]

Historic England – Thomas Stirling Lee [For TSL’s church commissions]

Jezzard, A. 1999. The Sculptor Sir George Frampton, vol. 1. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Leeds.

Jubilee Park Fountain, Middleton – Advice on Restoration, 2015: 24-5. The Edgar Wood & Middleton Townscape Heritage Initiative (THI) 2015.

Kineton Parkes, William 1921. Sculpture of to-day, Vol. 1, New York.

Kineton Parkes, William 1931. The Art Of Carved Sculpture,  Vol. 1, London.

Macer-Wright, Philip 1940. Brangwyn: A Study of Genius at Close Quarters, London.

Matthews, Geoffrey 2002. Thomas Stirling Lee, the first Chairman, in The Chelsea Arts Club Yearbook 2022 (page numbers n/a). [The article includes a photo from the Reading Museum and Art Gallery in which TSL can be seen at the notorious ‘Rodin Dinner’ at the Café Royal, 15 May 1902.]

Mee, Arthur 1937. Sussex in the  ‘The King’s England’ series: 105, London

Morris, Edward 1997. Thomas Stirling Lee, in Sculpture Journal, Vol.1, pp. 51-6. [This short, but important (and relatively recent) article is not to be missed; it happens to contain an extremely rare etching (c. 1890) of TSL by his friend G.P. Jacomb Hood. This work is currently in storage (internal object number H1989.203) at Brighton Museum, where it is described as showing “the sitter looking at the viewer, the head being sketched in detail. Lee is wearing a broad rimmed hat and he has a full beard and moustache. His shoulders and jacket are drawn with a few lines” (information kindly provided by Laurie Bassam, The Royal Pavilion & Museums Trust, August 2024). Morris’s article (not open access) is available from certain databases or Liverpool University Press.]

The New Sculpture, 1879-1894, in The Art Journal, New Series, 1894: 133 ff. [This extended essay by Edmund Gosse is perhaps the most oft-cited résumé and critique of the work and ideas of TSL in relation to his friends and contemporaries (mid 1990s). In the work cited here, the essay appears in three parts over a number of pages: 133-42, 199-203, 277-82, 306-11. The entire article is available free online, with several illustrations.

Ransome, Arthur 1907. Bohemia in London, London. [Aspects of artistic life in the late 19th century and the founding of the Chelsea Arts Club]

Roberts, Morley 1890. In Low Relief: A Bohemian Transcript: 19-20, 77-9, London.

Sparrow, W.S. 1904. The British home of today; a book of modern domestic architecture & the applied arts: 207-8. New York.

Speel, Bob. A website for British Sculpture & Church Monuments.

Spielmann, M.H. 1901. British Sculpture and Sculptors of Today: 66, London.

University of Glasgow History of Art and HATII, online database 2011 – Mapping the Practice and Profession of Sculpture in Britain & Ireland 1851-1951. [For considerable data on the working life of TSL]

The Victorian Web – Thomas Stirling Lee.

The Whistler 1991. Review of Artists and Bohemians by Tom Cross, in The Whistler (Autumn 1991: 12-14).

Wikipedia  – Thomas Stirling Lee.

For a further selection of illustrated works by TSL, see Art UK – Thomas Stirling Lee.

A Final Word

Mabel Bent by Thomas Stirling Lee, 1895, in bronze relief (detail) (The Bent Archive).

“There are sculptors and sculptors in England, but few for whom their material becomes plastic before a great thought. It is possible to pass through a modern exhibition, and be unmoved by a single evidence of the feeling which shows that study and long labour have not been lost in the attainment of mechanical dexterity and power of construction, which are as nothing without spiritual insight and emotion. Yet there are men in the country who have this vision, and one of them is Stirling Lee of Manresa Road.” (Morely Roberts, The Scottish Art Review, vol. 2, 1889: 74)

To our knowledge there has never been an exhibition of the life and work of this ‘man of vision’- it is high time there was one.

Reading “The Cyclades” – Marking the 140th anniversary (1885-2025) of a classic travelogue

Map and title page of Bent’s bestseller on the Cyclades (1885) (archive.org).

“The Islands of the Aegean Sea offer plenty of scope for the study of Hellenic archaeology, but they are more particularly rich in the preservation of manners and customs which have survived the lapse of years, and the result of a special study of both these points, made during two winters passed by my wife and myself amongst the islanders, in their distant hamlets, and in their towns by the sea-coast, I here place before the public.” (From Bent’s Preface, page v) note 1 

“… Mr. Theodore Bent’s excellent book on the ‘Cyclades’, the only recent book which is really serviceable to teach ordinary readers the details of the subject.” (Prof. Sir John Pentland Mahaffy, Irish classicist, in Good Words, 1888: Vol. 29, 305 ff.)

(Jump to the Readings)

Detail from a raised-relief map of Greece (Glyn Griffiths 2024).

Theodore Bent’s evergreen (ever-blue perhaps?) account of two winters happily spent island-hopping in the Greek Cyclades was published on 28 February 1885 in London by Longman, Green and Co. The Cyclades, or Life Among the Insular Greeks was the first such travelogue to appear in English and to this day features regularly in the bibliographies of those writing about these iconic islands.

Reviews spanning the century:

“Mr. Bent’s book deserves all success, for it is the result of researches pursued in the most laudable manner. When an educated man selects for his field of observation an interesting and little-explored area of country, and, after learning the language, spends a considerable part of two winters there, living among all classes of people so as to familiarise himself with the details of their life, and to become intimately acquainted with their ideas and modes of thought, he deserves the title of an enthusiastic investigator.” Academy 27, Jan/June 1885, p. 322.

“It is the classic of Aegean travel in English and will never be superseded, for one good reason that Bent was lucky enough to visit the islands when they were still, as it were, intact and only just waking out of the sleep of centuries.”  Ernle Bradford,  The Companion Guide to the Greek Islands (1983, Collins, London, p. 156).

“James Theodore Bent (1852-1897), author of The Cyclades (London, 1885), much the most valuable book on the Aegean.” (Robert Liddell, Aegean Greece, London, 1954, p.107, n.1)

“Seriphos and Siphnos sound like Heavenly Twins, and are very similar in size and scope. Kimolos and Sikinos are hard to visit, and harder to escape from… frankly it is not worth the trouble to do so, unless you are as determined and thorough about your Aegean as old Theodore Bent – who wrote the real classic on the area.” (Lawrence Durrell, The Greek Islands, London, 1980, p.254)

Reading The Cyclades

As an audiobook of The Cyclades has yet to appear, to mark its 140th anniversary (2025) we have asked ‘Cycladists’, those with affinities to the islands, to read memorable extracts from Bent’s guide for us.

The order of appearance is in accordance with how Bent sequenced them, not as the couple actually visited them – for this you need to see the diary of his wife, Mabel, for the winter of 1883/4. The dates given, where possible, of when they made their visits are from this diary – and not always reliable. The Bents’ first winter in the area, 1882/3, is unchronicled by Mabel, seeming to have been limited to a few Easter weeks, taking in Tinos and Amorgos. The diarist notes on their return to London in the Spring of 1884 that “though we like good food and beds and ease and comfort as well as others, we think the pleasure we have had quite pays for all the pains”. (The Travel Chronicles of Mrs J. Theodore Bent, Vol. 1, Oxford, 2006, p. 61)

The  tsabouna played by Yannis Pantazis of Santorini.

Most readings begin with a short melody on the island bagpipes (tsabouna) played by Yannis Pantazis of Santorini. The Bents would have been very familiar with this sound, even acquiring their own instrument (now in the Pitt Rivers Museum, Oxford).

So, πάμε, click on an audio file below to transport yourself to the Bents’ Cyclades as they found them in 1883/4 (zoom out on the map below to slowly reveal the islands). Further reader contributions will be added, of course, as they sail in, σιγά-σιγά! note 2 

(All rights remain with the individual readers, 2025-)

The Readings

Introduction and Bent’s Preface (pp. v-viii), dated November 1884

An introduction to ‘Reading “The Cyclades”‘, followed by Bent’s Preface to the first edition, providing a little background and his main objectives in visiting the islands over the course of two winters…

 

 

Serifos [Bent’s Ch. 1: Saturday 1st December – Tuesday 4th December 1883]

“The Church of St. Athanasius was worth seeing, being round with two little apses. It has a lovely iconostasis… carved in wood, with vine tendrils, and festoons, and niches for twenty eikons…” Metropolitan Church of Agios Athanasios, Ano Chora, Serifos (C. Messier, Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 4.0).

After a short stay on Syros, Siphnos was the first island the couple visited on their second winter tour, with Bent also choosing to begin his travelogue here. This ‘very pretty island’, as Mabel calls it, still makes the perfect overture to Bent’s Cycladic idyll, introducing us to all the themes that reappear throughout his work – ‘Zorba’-like characters, myths and legends, food and drink, custom and costume, antiquities, the ups and downs of travel, everyday life ‘among insular Greeks’ indeed… Our first reader is Elizabeth Boleman-Herring, author, inter alia, of The Aegean Islands Insight Pocket Guide: Mykonos and Santorini, publishing-editor of Weekly Hubris, and Cycladophile.

Melos [Bent’s Ch. 4: Saturday, 15th December – Friday, 21 December 1883]

View of the ancient theatre of Melos (330 x 558 mm, graphite, pen and ink, and watercolour) by James Skene, c. 1841 (CC Trustees of the British Museum (asset number 1280633001)).

Bent’s ‘Note on the Antiquities of Melos’ read by Ina Berg, Senior Lecturer in Archaeology at the University of Manchester. Ina has a long-term association with the Cyclades generally, her articles including ‘Island Attractions? Travel Writing on the Cyclades from the Middle Ages Until the Modern Day‘, in Mediterranean Studies (2012, 71-87), and (with J.R. Edelheim) ‘The Attraction of Islands: Travellers and tourists in the Cyclades (Greece) in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries‘, in Journal of Tourism and Culture Change 2012 (10:1, 84-98).

Anafi [Bent’s Ch. 5: Wednesday, 9 January 1884 – Friday, January 11 1884 or Saturday, 12 January 1884]

A photo from the early 1940s giving some idea of what Anafi’s harbour jetty might have looked like 100 years after the Bents sailed from the island (Margaret Kenna).

Bent’s entire chapter read by social anthropologist and Anafi specialist Margaret Kenna (Professor Emerita, Swansea University), who has spent 50 years researching in Greece, most of it focussed on the islanders and migrants of Anafi, spending a year on the island doing fieldwork for her doctorate in 1966 (Greek Island Life: Fieldwork on Anafi, Sean Kingston Publishing, 2017).

Santorini [Bent’s Ch. 6: Monday, 7th January – Wednesday, 23 January 1884]

Travel writer Jennifer Barclay reads the Bents on Santorini (photo = Ian smith).

Travel writer and Tilos resident Jennifer Barclay first got to know the Bents a few years back when they went with her some of the way on her breezy Dodecanese travelogue Wild Abandon (Bradt Guides 2020); she wrote an article for us about the adventure too (In the Footsteps of Theodore and Mabel).  Needless to say, we’re now very happy she has agreed to sail a little west from Tilos into the Cyclades to read a few of her favourite extracts from Bent’s visit to Santorini (no introduction required there, of course), where she spent a summer in the early 1990s. And if you think you can hear cicadas in the background now and then, you can; Jennifer has her window open as she reads…

(Now click for a slideshow of Jen’s reading!)

Ios [Bent’s Ch. 7: Wednesday, 23 January – Sunday, 27 January 1884]

P.M. Iannetta; Ios harbour in the 1930s (after Liddell 1954); Ekaterina Lorenziadis’ costume (National Historical Museum, Athens); Ios, the Chora today (Joshua Doubek: Wikipedia).

English language teacher and island-hopper P.M. Iannetta narrates the Bents’ landing on Ios – ‘Little Malta’ – and their first impressions of the main town. We meet mayor Lorenziadis and his family and are treated to a fashion show by his daughter Ekaterina – the dress she is modelling is now on display at the National Historical Museum, Athens.

 

 

 

Sikinos [Bent’s Ch. 8: Sunday, 27 January 1884 – Friday, 1 February 1884]

Prof. Rebecca Sweetman, Director, British School at Athens (BSA).

Bent’s ‘storm-stayed’ chapter on Sikinos is read by Prof. Rebecca Sweetman, who very kindly takes some time off from her busy job as Director of the British School at Athens to make this contribution. We are particularly  grateful to her (coincidentally, she tells us she went to school near Mabel Bent’s birthplace, Beauparc, Co. Meath). Rebecca’s interests have long led her to the islands – having begun by writing on Roman and Late Antique Crete, she is currently working on the Cyclades, with a monograph (The Archaeology of the Cyclades in the Roman and Late Antique Periods – Globalization, Christianization and Resilience) due later in 2025 from Cambridge University Press.

“Few remains in Greece are more perfect than this temple of Apollo …” Episkopi, Sikinos, before the recent restoration works (Rebecca Sweetman).

The Bents had a happy relationship with the British School (founded in 1886) and were frequent guests at 52 Souedias Street (in April 1896 Theodore was asked to take charge of a small dig near the Athens Olympieion). Rebecca’s reading ends with the Bents’ ride to Sikinos’ atmospheric Episkopi monument, very recently restored to great acclaim. (By the way, Mabel has her 38th birthday on this remote Cycladic island.)

 

 

 

Delos [from Bent’s Ch. 10, Mykonos (as ‘Note II – The Excavations at Delos’): Saturday, 1 March 1884]

Delos – bases and monuments north of Theophrastos’ Agora, the ‘Hypostyle Hall’, photographed in 1908, i.e. 25 years or so only after the Bents’ visit. The photographer is unknown (CC Archimage).

Rather like today’s tourists, the Bents spent a day on Delos, legendary birthplace of Apollo and Artemis, at the end of their visit to Mykonos. Then as now, excavations on this island, the heart of the Cyclades, are under the aegis of L’École Française D’Athènes in coordination with the Greek State. Bent, of course, finds the remains tantalising. His archaeological thoughts are read by Catherine Bouras, Secrétaire de rédaction pour La Chronique des fouilles en ligne, l’EFA.

Naxos 1 & 2 [Bent’s Ch. 14: Sunday, 23 December 1883 – Monday, 7 January 1884]

Portara, the large portal of the Sanctuary of Delian Apollo, Naxos (C. Messier, Wikipedia).

An early extract from Bent’s chapter on Naxos (‘The Town of Naxia’), where the couple spend Christmas, 1883. The passage – referencing the famous islet off the main town and its trademark temple remains that still salute every arrival by sea – is read by our friend the cartographer Glyn Griffiths, who has kindly provided many maps for our website and publications over the last twenty years, and for whose work we are most happy to thank here.

Revis Cruttenden, “Island Chapel” (detail, 2010, oil on board, 35.5 x 20.5).

A second extract from Bent’s Naxos chapter (‘In the Mountains of Naxos’) takes us inland and up into the mountains by paths still traceable among the picture-book villages of the interior region of Potamia. It is read by garden-designer/artist Revis Cruttenden, Cycladic traveller and erstwhile Mani resident. (Mabel’s diary gives the date of the rainy mule ride as 29 December 1883.)

Naxos 3 [Bent’s Ch. 14: Sunday, 23 December 1883 – Monday, 7 January 1884]

Vanessa Gordon

For our third reading from Bent’s extended Naxos chapter in his classic 1885 Cyclades travelogue, who better to ask than Vanessa Gordon, author of The Naxos Mysteries – her choice being Theodore and Mabel’s ride up into the north-east quarter of the island to see if the reputation of the villagers of Apiranthos can be as bad as it was made out, and then to scramble down to the coast to admire the famous unfinished statue at Apollonas.

The Naxos Mysteries: 1 – 4 (Vanessa Gordon, 2025).

Vanessa’s six books in her series The Naxos Mysteries are all to do with ‘archaeology, mystery and murder on the beautiful Greek island of Naxos’, involving her lead character, the archaeologist Martin Day; all themes, not totally disconnected from Theodore Bent’s narrative.

Kouros of Apollonas, Naxos. Mabel Bent writes in her diary: “We had a great deal of difficulty in the morning about starting to go and see an unfinished colossal statue said to be of Apollo, 1½ hour off near the sea… We had to leave the mules and climb with hands as well as feet to the quarry and on to the statue, which is enormous and very rough and weather worn.”(Wikipedia)

We should not be surprised, therefore, to find Theodore and Mabel making cameo appearances in two of Vanessa’s books – The Search for Artemis (2021, pp. 39-49, 129-30) and The House in Apíranthos (2024, p. 142) – this latter village featuring prominently in her reading here.

In this extract, Bent makes one of the earliest descriptions in English of the gigantic statue of ‘Apollo’ at Apollonas, and listen out, too, for references to the village of Komiaki (Koronida), where the Bents first encountered their mercurial dragoman Manthaios Simos, from neighbouring Anafi. As faithful as mercurial, Simos was instrumental in the rescue of the desperately ill Bents, east of Aden, in early 1897.

Area of Apíranthos, Naxos, Cyclades (Google Maps).

The Secrets of Stelida, Vanessa’s seventh title in her series will be released on 25 February 2026. She writes: ‘I love the mystery genre, which enables me to explore the magic of Greek antiquity, the wonderful landscape and the cuisine of Greece, and the rich complexities of human nature. In The Naxos Mysteries I try to appeal to both the mind and the heart of my reader, engaging them in the passions and tragedies of the characters in a context of discovery and exploration.’

Bonus Material

Travel-writer Marc Dubin’s dealings with the Bents (Marc Dubin/Bent Archive).

By way of ‘bonus material’, here is a modified reading of the Preface written by well-known travel-writer Marc Dubin for the Archaeopress edition of the Bents’ collected writings on the Dodecanese, in which he makes several references to Bent’s The Cyclades. We owe a huge debt of gratitude to Marc, for it was his listing of Bent in a bibliography decades ago that indirectly gave rise to the Bent Archive some 40 years later.  The reading is by Marc’s friend and Rhodes resident, Constance Rivemale.

 

Notes

Note 1:  In terms of contemporary English visitors (tourists) to the region, Bent would have found little in the way of popular literature. There exists a superficial, anonymous, article that he most probably would have read, written by a young male(?) traveller who decided to make a short sail from Athens in February 1880, ‘to woo the sea breezes among the Cyclades’. His tour takes in Syros, Tinos, Delos, Naxos, Paros, and Antiparos. On Tinos he makes reference to the famous annual pilgrimage – an event that draws Bent there in the spring of 1883. The article, barely recommendable, is A Cruise in Greek Waters (The St. James’s Magazine and United Empire Review, v.39 (12) JY-D (1880), pp.39-46). Curiously, its title is identical to the earlier (1870) travelogue by the affable maverick Frederick Trench Townshend. This is well worth the trouble of finding, although the Cyclades are not included.
Return from Note 1

Note 2: More readings will be added as and when they appear. For details of how to participate, contact info[at]thebentarchive[dot]com
Return from Note 2

Influential travel writer on Greece, and elsewhere, Marc Dubin (1955-2026)

Marc Dubin, Rhodes, late 1990s (Bent Archive).

‘Fare forward, you who think that you are voyaging / You are not those who saw the harbour / Receding, or those who will disembark. / Here between the hither and the farther shore / While time is withdrawn, consider the future / And the past with an equal mind.’ (T.S. Eliot)

Former Samos resident, influential travel writer on Greece, and elsewhere, Marc Dubin (1955-2026) died in Sofia on 23 July following complications from brain tumour surgery. A lengthy bibliography is available online; his Trekking in Greece (1993, Lonely Planet) in particular reveals the man. It was Marc’s inclusion of Theodore Bent’s Cyclades in one of his 1980s’ Rough Guides that led to our 25 years of research on celebrity explorers Theodore and Mabel Bent.

Marc was kind enough to write a Preface for Bent’s second Greek island book (The Dodecanese: Further Travels Among the Insular Greeks, 2015) and we add it below as our tribute… Σας ευχαριστώ πολύ Marc.

Detail from Bent’s own 1885 map of the Greek islands (photo: Bent Archive).

“I have been writing about the Greek islands since 1981, and the Bents have accompanied me from the start. After graduating from UC Berkeley in 1977, I stayed around town for some years; I was fortunate in having a part-time job at the university library which was piecework based and allowed me to work full-time for three months and then take equal time off to travel. It also gave me complete, unchallenged run of the book stacks, where I furthered my education through omnivorous reading. There was no security whatsoever at the employees’ entrance, so books could be ‘borrowed’ indefinitely.

The pre-computerisation card catalogue listed no less than four copies of J. Theodore Bent’s Aegean Islands: The Cyclades, or Life Among the Insular Greeks, published as a 1966 reprint by Argonaut in Chicago. I had just signed my first contract to write a guidebook on Greece. Why should the library keep four copies of this title, when my research needs were greater? Home it went, to stay, in 1980.

The church of the Panayía Portaïtissa, within the Kástro of Hóra, Astypálea (photo: Marc Dubin).

James Theodore and Mabel spent nearly a year travelling around the Aegean on their first trip, back when it took a year to visit all the islands given the vagaries of the wind – as he writes in the volume you are holding, ‘those who go to Astypalæa must be people of a patient disposition’. They more (or less) cheerfully tolerated ferocious winter weather, leaking quarters, foul-smelling wooden boats, monotonous food (‘pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, pease porridge in the pot nine days old’ was literally and repeatedly enacted), rapacious boatmen and voracious vermin. They took shelter in bare churches when necessary, something sadly unlikely now when so many rural chapels are locked against theft or desecration. It all puts today’s island-traveller whinges about cancelled sailings, greasy food and wonky water heaters in stark perspective. To their immense credit, the Bents were keenly interested in the contemporary Greek islanders, not just in antiquities, unlike 18th-century Grand Tourists who disparaged the supposedly degenerated medieval Greeks and modern tourists who are only after sun, sea and sex.

Title-page to the 1st edition of Bent’s ‘The Cyclades’ (London, 1885)(from an archive.org online e-version).

The Cyclades, or Life Among the Insular Greeks, also available through Archaeopress, has the dubious honour of being the most plagiarized book ever written on the Greek islands – almost every 1960s to 1980s writer on the Aegean helped themselves to entire pages worth of Bent, verbatim. It was legally if not ethically okay to do so, since the text (as the Argonaut publisher told me when I asked him) had long since been in the public domain; the Bents had died without issue or any other heirs to extend the copyright. Copyright aside, it’s easy to see why this happened: the intrepid Bents had been there, and done that, long before there were any t-shirts, and what they had observed and documented was far more compelling than anything actually visible on the islands from the 1960s onwards. Bent had also described their sojourns in brisk, to-the-point prose; it’s hard not to warm to someone who could write ‘on my remarking that I should prefer an inside place [on a raised communal family bed] for fear of a fall, they laughed and told stories of a sponge fisherman who dreamt that he was going to take a dive into the sea, and found himself on the floor instead; and of a priest, who rolled out of bed when drunk and broke his neck…in inferior establishments the space beneath the bed is used as a storeroom for all imaginable filth’.

On my extended 1981 trips to Greece, I had to quell lurking disappointment that the islanders were no longer as Bent described them. Or not quite anyway; on Sífnos my young hostess told me that there was still an old woman alive locally who could ‘draw out the sun’ from those afflicted with sunstroke-headache by sleight of handkerchief and incantations, exactly as described in Bent’s Kímolos account from 1883. Later a much older friend told me how, serving as a British delegate to the United Nations Special Commission on the Balkans (UNSCOB), monitoring border violations during the Greek civil war, he had – despite his total disbelief in the rite – the effects of the Evil Eye exorcised, again through spells and fabric manipulations, by an old Sifnian man, Nikos, in 1948, in Macedonia.

Olymbos, Karpathos (photo: Bent Archive).

But one can hardly expect such customs and costumes to have survived decades of emigration, electrification, radio and gramophones, public schooling whether Italian or Greek, meddling foreigners and government policy. Bent himself took a dim view of his own countrymen abroad: ‘It is the Union Jack which scatters [quaint costumes and still quainter customs] to the winds: great though our love is for antiquity, we English have dealt more harshly than any other people with the fashions of the old world.’ During the mid-1960s, even before the culturally destructive colonels’ junta, Kevin Andrews observed how local police felt it necessary to ban the playing of bagpipes at Mykonos port lest ‘foreigners…think us Mau-Mau’. You wonder what the Bents would make of today’s mercenary anthropological zoo centred on the village of Ólymbos in northern Kárpathos, which I first decried in my own 1996 guide to the Dodecanese and North Aegean. Research for that first edition involved criss-crossing the archipelago for several consecutive seasons in just about every month of the year (barring February and March) and every conceivable seagoing conveyance. Perhaps my most Bent-ian experience was in that self-same Ólymbos, when a nistísima meal (compliant with the Lenten fast) turned out to be simply limpets and myrouátana, a delicious seaweed which I have never been served again despite asking repeatedly.

During the late 1980s, in Moe’s – that Berkeley shrine of used books on Telegraph Avenue – I found another copy of the Argonaut Press edition of Aegean Islands, in mint condition, for the paltry price of $7 US: a fair measure of the scant esteem then in the USA for the Bents and their writings. The same copy in Britain at that time fetched at least thirty quid. Even now, antiquarian bookselling websites do not much value this handsome original reprint.

Shortly afterwards – I had not yet left the US to settle in Britain and Greece – I retrieved the purloined copy from my own shelves and headed for my old haunt, the UC Berkeley library. Back then (and probably still now) you could return a book in perfect anonymity, which I did eight years after its initial ‘check-out’, using the large-mouthed chutes near the main doors. It is not a small book in any sense, especially the old cloth-cover edition which is by my desk as I write, and made a satisfying clunk as it hit the bottom. So there should be once again four copies of Aegean Islands in the library’s holdings.

© Marc Dubin Áno Vathý, Sámos, December 2014

You can also listen to a reading of Marc’s Preface by Constance Rivemale (click below).

Get travelling with the Bents… Tilos in the Dodecanese (photo: Bent Archive).

 

Bent’s The Cyclades, or Life Among the Insular Greeks is freely available online, or as a printed version via Archaeopress, Oxford, or your usual book provider . Get travelling with the Bents…

From Pylos to Karpathos: Archaeology now and then

Slaughter as high art. The Pylos Combat Agate, c. 1450-1500 BCE, length: 3.6 cm, Pylos Archaeological Museum (Wikipedia).

Celebrity-explorers Theodore and Mabel Bent didn’t excavate in the Greek Peloponnese in the 1880s – they would never have been given permits.

The recent state-of-the-art excavations and discoveries at the ‘Griffin Warrior’ tomb, Pylos, Peloponnese, and the present (June 2026) exhibition of its spectacular finds in Athens, give a chance to reflect on the methods employed elsewhere in the Aegean by the Bents in the 1880s: the island of Karpathos (Dodecanese), for instance (and professional archaeologists might like to look away at this point).

The Aegean: Vroukountas, Karpathos, indicated (ToposText).

The Bents were on Karpathos after 5 March until before 21 April 1885, some seven weeks, arriving from Tilos (where they found little, camping, ironically, in the old monastery that now acts as bulwark to the new museum, on whose information panels they, inexplicably, go unmentioned).

The couple ride far and wide over Karpathos, before reaching the distant north-western tip and the once notable city of Vrykous (modern Vroukountas (various spellings) [35.80167678950954, 27.16483337973251]). A site busy with people from neolithic times to the 19th century CE, it was one of the island’s important centres in antiquity (see, e.g., Nigel McGilchrist’s imaginative treatment, in McGilchrist’s Greek Islands #16: Southern Dodecanese: Astypalaia, Tilos, Karpathos, Kasos, Kastellorizo (London, 2011).

Βρυκο͂ς – Brykous, polis near Ag. Marina, north of Avlona, Karpathos, Dodecanese (ToposText).

Arriving from Olympos, via today’s Avlona, the Bent party camped at Vroukountas between 30 March and 2 April 1885, pitching a tent, typically topped with a ‘Union Jack’ it seems, in the level area directly in front of what is now referred to as the cave-church of St John – a strange sight for modern August festival-goers to contemplate no doubt: the Bents washed themselves in the cave’s stone basins and struggled with an unruly tent; their long-suffering dragoman, Mathew Simos from Anafi (in the Cyclades, not very far away to the west) slept outside…

Unaware of these campers, McGilchrist (see above) describes the setting: “At the northern extremity of the promontory, steps lead down into a spacious natural cave deep within the headland… To the left was the spring which served the settlement in antiquity; it is possible that the sanctuary of the Nymphs was here, from which a relief showing Hermes and the Nymphs, formerly immured in the forecourt of the Church of the Koimisis in Olympos, once came. The cave is now organised as the shrine of Aghios Ioannis Theologos, whose screen, font and altar are all composed of various ancient spolia.”

“Proceeding along the cliff we found tombs of every possible description, single chambers, double chambers, tombs one over the other, tombs with steps above them cut in the rock, as if for ornamentation, but the most frequent and those which we found the least disturbed were those constructed like this plan…” (Bent, J.T. 1885: 237. Bent would have sketched the plan in his site log, now lost).

Forty-two years after Ludwig Ross (Ross 1845) had visited the island, without reaching Vroukountas due to bad weather, Bent wrote a lengthy article on his researches for The Journal of Hellenic Studies (1885, Vol. VI: 233-242) and sets the scene: “Brykountios was apparently the most considerable town during both the earlier and later occupations, and as it was situated at the extreme north of Karpathos, about two hours distant from the Elympos, and several days’ journey from the Konak, we were able to pitch our tent there and excavate unmolested… The chief interest connected with the pottery I brought back is that it is the first to come from Karpathos and from these rock-cut tombs. But the tombs themselves were extremely interesting, and the great variety of periods of pottery found in close juxtaposition would suggest that the graves had been used again and again, just as the graves of the Karpathiotes [are] now…” (Bent, J.T. 1885: 236, 237) (Bent kept notebooks of his researches but unfortunately they all seem to have been lost apart from those of his final journey to Socotra and Aden in 1897.)

(Two further interesting characters besides Ross can be introduced here: the swashbuckling Charles Thomas Newton (see later below), who never visited but acquired important Roman antiquities from Karpathos now in the British Museum; and the aristocratic William Roger Paton, Bent’s friend, who did explore the island’s southern region a year or so after the Bents and acquired fine Mycenaean wares there, also now in the BM (Paton 1887; 1889)

Mabel Bent’s account of their stay at Vroukountas, before Easter 1885

Mabel Bent devotes several pages in her ‘Chronicles’ to what was clearly a happy stay at this campsite, which included Theodore’s 33rd birthday, some notable finds, a few memorable meals, and the arrival of family letters (with belated news of the death of General Charles Gordon at Khartoum on 26 January 1885).

Mabel begins her account:

“You must excuse these smudges as I am sitting cross-legged on Theodore’s bed in our tent and was just interrupted by a man who came for two candles Theodore had sent for that he may explore a cave.

We are encamped for four days at Vourgounda. We came here yesterday [30 March 1885] with two mules and two workmen to make excavations on the site of an ancient city. We only took our medicines, without which we never move, necessaries of clothing, and books for four days, food and bedding; but I had so much to sit on that I had to hold with both hands all the way. As I did not fall off I was pronounced an excellent rider by the men.

There is a long rocky point jutting into the sea on the west of Karpathos, far north, near Tristomo and covered with ruins. Here everyone lunched at noon and then Theodore set the men to work and I went to the end of the point and had the tent pitched by a high rock, which shelters us from south winds. As Sunday night was the only rainless one we have had this long time, the ground was dry and by great good luck we have a level, gravelly floor.

At camp on Socotra: Theodore, Ammar, Manthaios and Ernest Bennett. From the Bents' Southern Arabia (1900). Image © The Bent Archive
“’We always travel with green fly tents with double flaps, the whole made of Willesden canvas, which does not get mouldy when folded up wet.’ – Theodore Bent, Esq., in the ‘Album’. Beware of imitations. Samples and prices from Willesden Paper and Canvas Works, Willesden Junction, N.W.” (‘Field’, Saturday, 10 April 1897). Twenty years after Karpathos, Mathew Simos (standing right) at camp on Socotra, by then fully familiar with tents (Bent, M.V.A. 1900: 365; archive.org).

Neither Mathew nor the other two men had ever seen a tent before, so beginning with turning right side out I had to lead by example and prompt and instruct them in everything; all in Greek too. Do not think I had only to cause the pegs to be driven into the ground and put the eyes or guys, or whatever you call the ropes, over, no, only one peg is done like that. No two ropes are the same, either as to length or the angle from the tent: some are under rocks, some are round rocks, some are over rocks, and one had to be strung through a hole in a rock… I was tired enough in my tongue and limbs when, after hoisting the Union Jack, I sat down to survey the tent, and, really, the ropes all dancing have a very funny effect. The sun was hot outside but it was hotter still setting up the beds inside, ‘tromero sesti’ as they said.

After that I went to the workmen, who had discovered the pavement of a Byzantine church. We turn up our noses at anything ‘tis Vizantines epoches’, so Theodore took them elsewhere.

Soon after our arrival, a messenger came and brought us two letters, the first we have had for more than five weeks and our first news of poor General Gordon’s death. As soon as we had joyfully read them we began to lament the many more that had been lost, but two or three hours later another man came with 23, and two newspapers, February 7 being the latest, and March 9 the latest letter.

“A very steep path leads to the small round entrance and several flights of steps lead down into a large cave. The holy place is shut in by a low wall and some pillars which do not touch the roof. Holy water drips into two little stone troughs and thither we hie with our sponges and towels to wash…” The cave-church of St John, Vroukountas, scene of a three-day festival over 29 August (St John the Baptist/Agios Ioannis Prodromos) (karpathostravel.com).

When the sun set we scrambled home. Next to our tent is a little hut built against the wall as a kitchen for pilgrims who come to a little chapel in the cave beneath. A very steep path leads to the small round entrance and several flights of steps lead down into a large cave. The holy place is shut in by a low wall and some pillars which do not touch the roof. Holy water drips into two little stone troughs and thither we hie with our sponges and towels to wash. The workmen sleep among the rocks; there are plenty of caves about. When it got dark we went to the kitchen to dine. It was Theodore’s birthday.

The sacks of my bed and the tent were laid as a tablecloth on the soft wet earthen floor. We sat on two stones. Theodore leaning against the middle post supporting a lambskin full of water, and I, as I found afterwards, very few inches from the lamb of the period. Mathew built a table and seats next day. All the rocks and stones around were full of food and pots and a candle stuck by its own wax to one of them shed a dim light, except once when it tumbled down and went out.

We had a soup of lamb’s head and a lot of herbs picked by the wayside, onions, and a handful of peas someone had given to Theodore to eat raw. Then the brains and tongue boiled. Then the liver fried; a bowl of sheep’s cream and sugar. Some wine from Samos and coffee. We then strolled on the rocks by moonlight and complained to each other that we did not feel at all excited at the idea of our first night in a tent – indeed, I think all we felt was satisfaction at the idea of a clean, dry shelter.

Mathew spread his bed on brushwood in the kitchen. I undressed outside that I might bring in no fleas. As I had spread all our bedding in the sun, for once it was dry and our clothes in the morning were quite dry too. It rained in the night and Theodore had to go out about two to loosen the guys, and the north wind came on in the morning, so they had to be tightened again.

It is a cold dark day and the sea wild and black. We breakfasted outside. Theodore has gone to dig graves today and I am remaining at home enjoying great peace, nooked in where no one can stare. I am just going to have another read of the letters.

“But the best thing is quite perfect, a bowl shaped like a pineapple about 4 or 5 inches across…” (BM 1886,0310.6: Megarian bowl, black ware. Hellenistic, 3rd c. BCE – 1st c. BCE; © Trustees of the British Museum).

In the afternoon, or rather about 10, I went and with difficulty found the diggers, as they were in catacombs whose openings were quite invisible from above. They had already begun to find things, though many of the graves had evidently been opened in the Byzantine times. Most things were broken but still there were many whole and during the whole time we became possessed of many earthen plates (20 in one grave), the remains of copper mirrors and boxes, some glass things broken, and some broken but very pretty vases, etc. But the best thing is quite perfect – a bowl shaped like a pineapple about 4 or 5 inches across. Besides this, three round boxes and two lids made of lead, we think, a sort of button with a hanging ring, but we know not what metal, and some little twisted bits that seem to be gold. The prettiest lamp, quite perfect, has a word on the bottom and Theodore copied some inscriptions painted on the stucco of the vaults. We are altogether very much pleased with our success, and if we do not find things on Saría may return…

On Thursday morning (March 31st, I mean April 2nd), I did not go at all to the digging. To get there one must climb up, down, or over 17 walls, and as I did this three times the day before, besides wandering in search of tombs, I am sure I had a good deal of climbing. I was not much use as the men preferred grouping themselves round me when Theodore’s back was turned, talking to me, looking at my eyeglass, scissors, gloves, never before seen in Karpathos I am sure, and asking innumerable questions. In vain I suggest they should work but when the ‘aphentiko’, as they address Theodore, comes it is different.

“Besides this, three round boxes and two lids made of lead, we think, a sort of button with a hanging ring, but we know not what metal, and some little twisted bits that seem to be gold…” (From Mabel Bent’s notebook “her chronicle in the Sporades &c., 1885”, p. 78, archive of The Hellenic Society, London, CC).

Besides there was much to do in cleaning out the earth from the pots with very little water. I had to mind the camp while Mathew went to seek a meal in the sea. I had a visit from five women and girls who, without any ceremony, called me nothing but Verghinía. This is the first time I have not been called Kyria Verghinía, but I suppose these people really never have seen anyone superior to themselves and their only idea of a ‘Kyria’ must be the Blessed Virgin. They said ‘come with us Verghinía and we’ll give you cream’, but they terrified me by playing with the pots and I gave them no encouragement to remain and was glad when they left.

I packed our personal possessions and the more delicate ‘finds’ and after luncheon Theodore went off again and I broke up the camp with Mathew, though Theodore had sent me a man, which I told him was quite unnecessary. The man was busy all the time turning a lamb into food, which I fortunately did not find out till he was dead. By the by, Mathew had not slept a 2nd night in the kitchen, which was really as airtight as a nutmeg grater, but taken refuge in a cave about 30 feet above our heads.

We had three mules as we had two huge baskets of pots and seaweeds. About 4 pm, Theodore and his men came and everything was carried about three-quarters of a mile and they and I were loaded on the mules and we reached Elymbo by dark. Sunny day.

Good Friday was a fine sunny day and we unpacked the panniers, for we were quite too tired to look at anything on our arrival. It is very exciting work digging – first finding something, then is it whole? Then have we all the pieces? The men grind the edges trying to fit them, and any metal they cut with their knife. Fortunately they never saw the little boxes. Theodore found and pocketed them.

We cleaned as much as our limited means would allow (a milk jug and a Russian wooden bowl such as grocers have with 2 lbs of tea). We packed the pots into three boxes, all except a very large earthenware jug, two of which were found whole and one of which Theodore gave away. It is to be carried loose all the way home and now we empty our bowl into it. These two days before Easter are employed making bread and cakes with red eggs stuck into them and every oven is smoking…” (Bent, M.V.A. 2006: 99-125)

(We leave the Bents here; they now return to Olympos for the Easter celebrations…)

The Bents’ collections from Karpathos

BM 1886,0310.2: lekythos, white ground. Corinthian, ca. 500 BCE – 450 BCE. Unspecified site, Vroukountas (© Trustees of the British Museum).

Restrictions on the unauthorised removal of antiquities from Greece were already in force when the Bents were active in the Aegean (1880s). The position for Turkish areas was arguably more fluid, but from Mabel Bent’s notes in her diaries it is clear that had their ‘finds’ from Vourgounda been inspected on the waterfront, contemporary warehouses can still be seen at Pigadia, they would have been confiscated immediately. Just a few years later, the couple had considerable difficulties along the Turkish littoral, exiling them to distant regions (Africa, Arabia) under ‘British Protection’ where they could excavate freely.

The many crates, cartons and sacks containing the Bents’ acquisitions from Karpathos (including some very important village embroideries) left with the couple on the steamer Roúmeli on 21 April 1885. Mabel records in her diary: “The next excitement was getting the things at Pegadhia. I decided to remain on board and became a perfect queen-bee. I gave up moving at last for I was always followed. I eagerly watched the proceedings on shore. Mathew set off to run to the house where was a very hideous statue, more than the size of a baby, half a mile off. Theodore and the Turks sat down at the café… We mean to deposit it in bond at the customhouse of Syra with all the cases and things we do not want.”

Fierce storms forced the Roúmeli to seek shelter (as St Paul is said to have done) at Kali Limenes, southern Crete, before continuing via Kythera to Syra: “At Kythera a ‘manifesto’ was made and signed by the captain, saying he had picked us, and our cases, up in Turkey, and by the Kythera customs people to say we had not started from there… And now Thursday [23 April 1885] we are at Syra, all the things are in the customhouse, the great jars tied up to the wall.”

With, according to Mabel, all their acquisitions and paraphernalia (via Messina and Malta): “We reached home via Millwall Dock in safety with our 24 pieces of the most varied luggage, and I am more convinced than ever that there is no place like it.” Unfortunately she does not add a date, but it will have been around the middle of May 1885 – too late for them to attend the Hellenic Society meeting of 7 May, but Theodore did speak about the Karpathos finds at the Annual Meeting on 25 June (Bent, J.T. 1885: xlv). (For all Mabel Bent’s diary entries, see Bent, M.V.A. 2006: 99-125)

From Vroukountas Grave 1, Karpathos, BM 1886,0310.15: squat lekythos, red-figured ware. Attic, 430-400 BCE, purchased 1886 from Theodore Bent (© Trustees of the British Museum).

From Syra, Bent wrote a candid letter dated 24 April 1885 to Sir Charles Newton (see an earlier reference to him above), at that time Keeper of the Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities at the British Museum. The use of the word ‘plunder’ is jarring : ‘We returned from Karpathos yesterday and had hoped to catch a steamer which would have brought us and our things straight to England. Unfortunately we shall have to wait a week at least, and as we have so much plunder we cannot take the Marseilles route… We were fairly successful in Karpathos, finding a large number of rock cut graves unopened which have produced pottery, etc., which, if not of the highest order, offer a good deal which I believe to be of a new character. I have likewise got a good-sized statue of one of those quaint figures which I got at Antiparos last year; it is of stone and nearly a yard long. It is decidedly uglier than any which have yet come to hand. Of quaint manners and customs I have got a fine collection, also of old Karpathiote dresses and jewelry… We had rather a rough time of it, Karpathos being very far behind the world in comforts, and decidedly we enjoyed ourselves best when living in our own tent. Mrs. Bent survives and is well and begs her kind regards. Yours very truly, J. Theodore Bent” (Archive of the Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities, British Museum)

Items from Vroukountas purchased by the British Museum from Theodore Bent in 1886 (* = on display at the BM as of June 2026)

‘Grave 1’

‘Grave 2’

‘Grave 3’

‘Grave 4’

Unspecified graves

(The Bents returned to London from Karpathos in May 1885, i.e. suggesting a period of deliberation and negotiation by both parties. Many finds referred to by Mabel in her diaries, and Theodore in his article for the Hellenic Society, i.e. the mysterious ’20 plates’, the large pithoi, etc., did not go to the BM and are presumably in various other collections today, unprovenanced. Over the centuries, how many other adventurers have come and gone among such islands, removing similar artefacts?) 

Items from Vroukountas donated by Mabel Bent to the British Museum in 1926

Mabel Bent’s sister, Ethel Bagenal (1848-1930), to whom she left her estate on her death in July 1929, in turn, Ethel’s daughters were responsible for their aunt’s collections (The Bent Archive).

The Bents leased a fine townhouse near Marble Arch, London, at 13 Great Cumberland Place; Mabel continued to live there until her death in 1929. It was a veritable museum, if not a treasure chest, of decades of collecting and inherited items and clearly she wanted to hold on to certain souvenirs of her travels with Theodore, or items that were particularly decorative – including some discoveries from Vroukountas made during that obviously happy spring of 1885. Towards the end of her life she was inevitably thinking of what was to happen to her collections (alas, creating some sort of permanent home for them does not seem to have been considered). In her will, everything was left to her surviving sister, Ethel Bagenal (or effectively her two daughters, i.e. Mabel’s nieces). However in 1926 Mabel presented to the British Museum a large number of artefacts from all the regions they had travelled to, including the following Vroukountas pieces (they lack specific grave numbers):

  • 1926,0410.42: kantharos, black-glazed ware. Attic, ca. 4th BCE. No grave specified, donated 1926 by MVAB.
  • 1926,0410.41: kantharos, black-glazed ware. Attic, ca. 4th BCE. No grave specified, donated 1926 by MVAB.
  • 1926,0410.40: salt-cellar, black-glazed ware. Hellenistic, ca. 3rd c. BCE. No grave specified, donated 1926 by MVAB.

(For an overview of the Bents’ collections see this summary) 

The ‘Karpathos Lady’

‘The Karpathos Lady’, acquired there by the Bents in 1885. BM 1886,0310.1: Limestone female figure, Neolithic, 4500-3200 BCE, purchased 1886 (© Trustees of the British Museum).

“[At] Pegadia or ‘wells’ … there are evidences of pre-historic inhabitants, the graves of whom I was unfortunately unable to open owing to the presence of the Turkish authorities, but I was able to obtain a large stone figure of a female idol, similar to the smaller ones I found at Antiparos…” (Bent, J.T. 1885: 235)

This is the most bizarre of all the Bents’ acquisitions from any of their travels – an enigmatic stone figurine, still without a known parallel. The British Museum’s data record its findspot  as Vroukountas, but the Bents purchased it from the Pigadia area; it left Karpathos whole, clandestinely in a blanket, but now is shown mended (in two parts).

Not currently exhibited (June 2026), it is a much travelled object, having featured in loan exhibitions to the Far East. (How Bent can think it resembled one of the marble figurines he recovered from Antiparos in 1884 is hard to explain.)

Bibliography

Bent, M.V.A. (1885) Her Chronicle in the Sporades &c., 1885, Archive of The Hellenic Society, London.
Bent, M.V.A. (1900) Southern Arabia, London.
Bent, M.V.A (2006) The Travel Chronicles of Mrs J Theodore Bent, Vol. 1, Oxford: 99-125.
Bent, J.T. (1885) ‘The Islands of Telos and Karpathos’. The Journal of Hellenic Studies, Vol. VI: 233-242.
Paton, W.R. (1887) Vases from Calymnos and Carpathos. Journal of Hellenic Studies, Vol. 8: 446-460.
Paton, W.R. (1889) Mycenaean tombs in Carpathos. The Classical Review, Vol. 3: 333.
Ross, L. (1845) Reisen auf den griechischen Inseln des agäischen Meeres, Vol. 3, Stuttgart: 50-69.

Further reading

Bent was very much taken with elements of Karpathian life and wrote several articles:

There are several (June 2026) spectacular videos of the location on YouTube, e.g.:

 

Two watercolours by Theodore Bent: The Old Town, Rhodes (1885) and the Çandarlı Halil Pasha Tower, Istanbul (1886)

Theodore Bent as artist: recent acquisitions by the Bent Archive (June 2026)

Two watercolours by Theodore Bent. Left: A view inside the Old Town, the Island of Rhodes, 1885 (46 x 30 cm); Right: The Çandarlı Halil Pasha Tower, Rumelihisarı (Boğazkesen Fortress), Bosphorus, Istanbul, 1886 (46 x 30 cm) (the Bent Archive collection).

Left: Facing eastwards, a view inside the Old Town, the Island of Rhodes, 1885 (46 x 30 cm)

Theodore and Mabel Bent were on Rhodes from 6 – 20 February 1885, arriving from Alexandria, before moving on to the islands of Nisyros, Tilos, and Karpathos to look for antiquities and traditional artefacts, including embroideries and ceramics. As ‘Franks’ they were not permitted to stay overnight in the famous walled Old Town and took a pension in ‘Niochori’ (the new district) not far from where the casino is today. Mabel clearly feels she cannot do justice to the wonders of the Old Town; leaving descriptions for the guidebooks, she writes in her diary: “It is quite a little walk to the town where no one but Jew or Turk may remain after sunset. The town is very interesting and full of coats of arms and bits of carving and other traces of the Knights, but see Murray” (The Travel Chronicles of Mrs J. Theodore Bent, Vol. 1, 2006, p. 69). Theodore Bent publishes later an account of the social dimensions of their fortnight on the island (‘Rhodian Society’, Macmillan’s Magazine, Vol. 52, 1885 May/Oct, pp. 297-303) – he finds the Old Town’s famous hammam open: “Another easy method of studying this conglomerate society is afforded by the bath. Every Rhodian, of whatever nationality, indulges in the Turkish bath on some day or another in the week, from the lowest menial to the exiled pashas, and everyone pays according to his rank”.

Theodore Bent’s watercolour (1885) of a view inside the Old Town, the Island of Rhodes (46 x 30 cm) (Bent Archive Collection).

A keen watercolourist and sketcher ever since his schooldays, Bent illustrated most of his 20 years of travel with his wife (E. Med, Africa, Arabia), of course he couldn’t resist the multi-period charms of Rhodes’  Old Town. His scene, facing eastwards, from an elevated position, at first difficult to locate, is explained for us by a resident historian of today: “I think the sea on the horizon is the key detail here. Bent is clearly looking from an elevated point across the city towards the sea, not inland ‘uphill’. The perspective actually fits the topography of Rhodes quite well: the line of today’s Sokratous Street descending on the right side helps orient the scene, and the two principal mosques can be identified fairly convincingly – [firstly] the tall minaret of the Süleymaniye Mosque and, further back/right, the Ibrahim Pasha Mosque. That makes the composition much less imaginary than it first appears.

Detail from Fr. Bedford’s 1862 panoramic photo of Rhodes taken from the (now demolished) Naillac Tower. The eastwards-pointing arrow gives an idea of Bent’s line of view for his 1885 watercolour, from above and behind the Süleymaniye Mosque (public domain).

The windmill also makes more sense in that context: rather than the Omirou/Pythagora mill, it is probably one of the mills associated with the commercial harbour area, visible beyond the Ottoman skyline. In fact, excavations carried out around 2000 in the commercial harbour uncovered the foundations of several mills, showing that there was once a whole cluster of them there. Today only the first mill survives, restored, while the others have disappeared. So Bent was likely recording a real feature of the late Ottoman harbour landscape. Overall, the painting seems to represent a genuine seaward panorama of Ottoman Rhodes” (personal communication, Apostolos Papageorgiou, May 2026).

Detail of Theodore Bent’s watercolour (1885) of a view inside the Old Town, the Island of Rhodes (46 x 30 cm). The muezzin can just be seen on the minaret of  the Süleymaniye Mosque (Bent Archive Collection).

The line, colouring, foliage, and detail of his watercolour are typical of Bent’s naïve ‘style’, influenced, inter alia, by the work of Edward Lear (who was aware of Bent and owned a copy of his popular book on the Cyclades). One of Bent’s characteristic figures is represented by the muezzin seen calling the faithful to prayer, perched high on the Süleymaniye Mosque’s minaret. Rhodes remained in Ottoman hands until the Italian invasion of 1912. For more on the Old Town’s mosques, see  Giorgos Ntellas & Katerina Manousou-Ntella, ‘The Ottoman Mosques of the Medieval City of Rhodes’, in The Ottoman Monuments In Greece Revisited: A Tribute In The Memory Of Machiel Kiel, Athens, 2025, pp. 467 ff.

Right: The Çandarlı Halil Pasha Tower, Rumelihisarı (Boğazkesen Fortress), Bosphorus, Istanbul, 1886 (46 x 30 cm) (the Bent Archive collection)

Theodore Bent, the Çandarlı Halil Pasha Tower, Rumelihisarı (Boğazkesen Fortress), Bosphorus, Istanbul, 1886 (46 x 30 cm) (the Bent Archive collection).

The Bents’ first stay of any length in Constantinople, based at the Hôtel de Byzance, was from 23 January until 17 February 1886. Although they did visit the region in the spring of 1883, disembarking  at Smyrna, Mabel makes no reference to sailing into the Bosporus then; later business took them to Constantinople several times during the months they spent in Turkey in 1888. In 1886 the couple were en route for various islands off the Turkish coast, including Chios, Samos, and Patmos, looking for antiquities.

Mabel’s diary does not give the actual date of their excursion to the Roumeli Hissar Fortress on the Bosphorus, but she refers to it: “We went to Roumeli Hissar and to Bouyoukder and got to know that part of the Bosphoros pretty well and really on the whole we had very fine weather, but the inhabitants were desiring snow” (The Travel Chronicles of Mrs J. Theodore Bent, Vol. 1, 2006, p. 135).

Rumelihisarı (Boğazkesen Fortress), Bosphorus, Istanbul (Wikipedia).

Skilful engineers designed the fortress complex to roll up and down over the hilly contours of the landward Bosphorus here. Linked by its walls, the great features of the defences are its three massive bastions: the cylindrical Saruca Pasha tower to the north; the Zaganos Pasha tower (also cylindrical); and the Halil Pasha tower on the waterfront, with its 12 sides – originally bristling with guns to help control the strait. It is this latter tower that attracts Theodore Bent on their day out, taking a position that enables him to include the eastern (Asian) shores of this historic waterway in the distance. The tower, seeming to tilt slightly, is the obvious eye-catcher, Bent emphasising its power by the bulk and width; pleasingly, the structure is echoed by one on the far bank, two finger-pines adding elevation. Most of the tower’s adjacent structures visible to Bent have been removed and the area is undergoing extensive restoration (2026). (Mabel also mentions going to see the ‘Bouyoukder’ (Büyükdere) area, the smart quarter with fine Turkish mansions, then much favoured by diplomats and other elites.)

Bent’s articles on the immediate vicinity include:

The Bents in the Strait of Hormuz, 1889

Into the Persian Gulf with the Bents, via the Strait of Hormuz, 1889 (Glyn Griffiths/Bent Archive).

On 27 January 1889, celebrity explorers Theodore and Mabel Bent safely navigated the Strait of Hormuz to enter the Persian Gulf. Some weeks later, incredibly, they began their way home to London with a ride, south-north, through Persia – Bushehr to Jolfar. Mabel Bent’s personal diaries (Chronicles she called them) of this great ride are in the archives of the Hellenic Society, London. Scanned and freely accessible,  their significance – among the largish corpus of late 19th-century ‘European’ and colonialist-tinted travelogues – of course, is thrown into stark relief at the time of this present disastrous crisis (April 2026).

Theodore Bent’s interests were primarily archaeological and we can follow the couple as they ride via Shiraz, Persepolis, Esfahan, Qom, Tehran, Takht-e Soleiman, Lake Orumiyeh, and Tabriz – sites all at potential risk from aerial attacks (what would Alexander have made of all this as he embarked on his sack of Xerxes’ capital in 330 BCE?).

Bent had written in advance to the Shah’s representative for permission to excavate in the area of Persepolis; his request is granted, but he changes his mind (see below) and the couple instead head north in search of fabled Ecbatana (Hamadan), an objective they don’t achieve. “Our great desire now”, writes Mabel, “is to inform ourselves where Ecbatana was; no one knows and some think Isfahan, some Hamadan, and we hope it may be Takht i Sulieman.”)

Mabel Bent’s account of their extraordinary journey is told in her three Persian notebooks, readable online via the Hellenic Society/London University (the pdf files are quite large, allow time for downloading; for annotated transcriptions, see The Travel Chronicles of Mrs. J. Theodore Bent, Vol. 3, 2010, Oxford, pp. 26-127).

Mabel Bent’s ‘6th Chronicle’ 1889 (vol.1) (The Hellenic Society, London).

Notebook 1 begins with the Bents making for Bahrain (late January 1889) via Karachi, Theodore intending to investigate the curious burial mounds of ’Ali there. This done, the couple decide on a whim to return to London overland, on horseback, through Persia. Notebook 1 ends (c. 18 March 1889) at Abadeh in the Central District of Abadeh County, Fars province, Iran, famed for its carpets and carved fruitwood (Mabel acquires a set of wooden sherbet spoons there).

 

Mabel Bent’s ‘6th Chronicle’ 1889 (vol.2) (The Hellenic Society, London).

Notebook 2 continues the ride as far as Tabriz, northern Iran, which they reach c. 16 May 1889, having indefatigably toured, inter alia, Esfahan, Qom, Tehran, the Takht-e Soleiman area, and the shores of Lake Orumiyeh. The Bents’ dreams of finding and excavating Ecbatana somewhere near the bizarre mountain site of Takht-e Soleiman (c. 4 May 1889) come to nothing (they return to England with just a fragment of tile they removed). The stand-out moment of this leg was an audience with Shah Naser al-Din Shah Qajar, near Zanjan, c. 27 April 1889: “… then he beckoned to us… and when we reached H.M. we made another bow and curtsey and Theodore took care not to expose his naked head.” Notebook 2 ends at Tabriz, where Mabel is obliged to purchase a journal of inferior quality for the completion of her Chronicle (“…I am sorry to have to write in such a nasty book, but as it was never bought for me I must be thankful we have it…”).

 

Mabel Bent’s ‘6th Chronicle’ 1889 (vol.3) (The Hellenic Society, London).

Notebook 3 concludes Mabel’s Persian memoires, the ‘nasty book’ recording the short distance from Tabriz to the Aras River (c. 25 May 1889) at the Jolfa crossing, and then the long return (rail) journey to England, via Kiev, Warsaw, and Berlin. The Bents reach their comfortable London townhouse near Marble Arch on 11 June 1889 – the grey-greens of the English Channel not featuring on any palette prepared for the Strait of Hormuz…

 

 

Gallery

Naser al-Din Shah Qajar, Shah of Persia (1831-1896). The Bents meet him near Zanjan, c. 27 April 1889 (Wikipedia).
The set of fruitwood sherbet spoons acquired (March 1889) at Abadeh (“The Connoisseur”, 1901, pp. 161-4 (archive.org).
The 13th-century tile fragment the Bents removed (c. 4 May 1889) from the site of Takht-e Soleiman (private collection).
A small section of the remains of ancient Ecbatana (Hamadan), Iran (Wikipedia).

Further reading

Bahrain and ‘Persia’ – December 1888 to March 1889

The Travel Chronicles of Mrs J. Theodore Bent. Volume III: Southern Arabia and Persia (2010, Oxford: Archaeopress)

Southern Arabia, Mabel Bent (1900, London)

Theodore Bent’s articles on Persia and the Persian Gulf region:

1889

1890

1891

1893

1895

More on the Bents and Ecbatana

Ram’s-head rhyton (Reza Abbasi Museum); lion rhyton (National Museum of Iran) (Wikipedia)

There is scant coverage in the main media (April 2026) of possible damage to Iran’s archaeology in the current conflict; searches online, however, reveal indications that Theodore and Mabel Bent will read with dismay. In early 1889, our celebrity explorers had permission from the offices of the Shah to dig near Persepolis (they didn’t); then they thought they would contribute to the search for fabled Ecbatana. Mabel Bent writes in her diary (c. 21 April 1889): “Our first intention was to go and dig at Hamadan, S.W. of Teheran, and Theodore wrote to Sir H. Drummond Wolff [H.M. Ambassador] beforehand to obtain permission to dig… T got a good map from the chancery, brought it up, and we found we should prefer to go to a place much more north… Sir H.D.W. most kindly asked Amin es Sultan and got leave for ‘anywhere’, to the fear of the French minister, M. de Balloy, who dreaded that we should wish to poach on the Dieulafoy preserve at Susa. He was assured we should not think of anything so mean. Let as many people dig in as many places as they can that we may all be the wiser. Our great desire now is to inform ourselves where Ecbatana was; no one knows and some think Isfahan, some Hamadan, and we hope it may be Takht i Sulieman.” (‘Travel Chronicles of Mabel Bent’, Vol.3, 2010, Oxford, pp.78-9). And off the Bents arduously rode up into the mountains to the latter and found nothing. They really should have tried Hamadan, where archaeologists (e.g. Charles Fossey, as late as 1913) made astonishing discoveries associated with Ecbatana. Had the Bents made the right choice, the gleaming golden rhyta and other finds from this erstwhile capital of the Medes (overlooked it seems in 330 BCE when Alexander looted the treasury) might now be in the British Museum. There’s a thought as the missiles fly…

People come and go: to the memory of the kind William Pryor Binney, H.B.M. Consul on Syros and friend to the Bents

The kind William Pryor Binney (21 July 1839 – 12 March 1888), date unknown, presumably the 1870s, and perhaps wearing the medal of Chevalier from the King of Greece, or ‘the order of the Saviour and Order of the Iron Cross from the Emperor of Austria’. (From the ‘Genealogy of the Binney family in the United States’ 1886).

Wonderful to hear (3 Jan. 2026) that a team of volunteers has cleared up the charming but neglected Westerners’ Cemetery on Syros (Greek Cyclades), a small area that leads to the immaculately tended Commonwealth War Graves/Syra New British Cemetery, below  Ano Syros. The original Westerners’ Cemetery site, including the memorial to William Pryor Binney, has been so badly maintained that the Commonwealth War Graves Commission even has a warning on its webpage, imploring those who want to visit to take great care: “Please remain within the pathway while accessing the CWGC plot due to danger of tripping on debris and being hit by falling stone from the damaged walls.”  See the end of this article for photos.

 

People come and go; everyone travels; everyone leaves traces of their travels. You will find such a trace on a memorial in the rarely visited Westerners’ cemetery in Ermoupoli, on Cycladic Syros, near the junction of Taxiarchon and Katramadou, on the way to Ano Syros. The cross and monument of some grandeur is of fine Tinos marble; the inscription testifies to the trickiness of English lettering for Greek masons; it was expensive, and the deceased’s family wished to honour a significant man. There is no space for the word ‘kind’:

William Binney’s grave in the Westerners’ cemetery, Syros (detail) (The Bent Archive).

“To the Memory of William Pryor Binney, H.B.M. Consul, Divisional Manager Eastern Telegraph Company. Born in Halifax Nova Scotia, Canada, the 21th [sic] July 1839, died at Syra the 12th March 1888. The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. Job 1, 21.”

The year of Binney’s birth, however, is given as 1840 in an arcane ‘Genealogy of the Binney family in the United States’, published by Charles James Fox Binney in 1886 (Albany, N.Y., J. Munsell’s Sons):

“William Pryor Binney, son of Stephen and Emily (Pryor) Binney, of Moncton, N[ew] B[runswick], was born July 21, 1840; married Polexine [Polyxena/Πολυξένη] Pateraki, daughter of the late George Pateraki[s], of Constantinople. Mr. Binney is the general manager of the submarine telegraph cable in the kingdom of Greece and Turkey, has held the office for twenty-five years past, and in 1884, lived at Syra, Greece. He is H.B.M. consul at Syra. Had no children in 1873. He had the title of Chevalier from the King of Greece and decoration of the order of the Saviour and order of the Iron Cross, from the Emperor of Austria.”

Stephen Binney (1805–1872), William’s father (from ‘Genealogy of the Binney family in the United States’, 1886).

The first Binney to surface, one captain John, of Nottinghamshire, set sail with his wife Mercy in 1678 or 1679, for Hull, Massachusetts. There, with John now a ‘fisherman’ and ‘gentleman’, the couple (with their six children) became the ‘ancestors of almost all of the name’. In the 19th century one of their descendants, Stephen Binney (1805–1872), a merchant of Halifax, and later first mayor, married Emily Pryor (1808 and still living in 1884); the couple had seven children, one of whom was our William Pryor Binney and Mabel remembers him for posterity as ‘kind’. As Halifax mayor, in early 1842 Stephen made the long Atlantic crossing to London with a message of congratulations on behalf of the city to Queen Victoria on the birth of her son (later King Edward VII). During his extended absence his business affairs at home suffered and he sought new opportunities, buying property near Moncton (New Brunswick). From his new base, Stephen Binney set up a successful wharf and shipyard, making a new start as a wholesaler, trading in timber and agricultural produce. With its access to the Bay of Fundy, and William’s father thrived as a merchant ship-owner, with a vessel that bore his own name, the ‘Stephen Binney’.

Pryor-Binney House, 5178 Morris Street, Halifax, Nova Scotia, B3J, Canada (Heritage Division NS Dept. of Tourism, Culture and Heritage, 2005)

It was Stephen’s father (William’s grandfather), Hibbert Newton Binney, who forged links initially with the Pryors, when the two families cooperated on the building of a fine house in Halifax in 1831, and which H.N. Binney then bought outright in 1834. The ‘Pryor-Binney House’ still stands at 5178 Morris Street, Halifax.

One of William’s brothers was Moncton’s head of Customs, Irwine Whitty Binney (b. 1841). It was probably Irwine, as prosperous clan head, who supervised in some way William’s funeral in 1888, in the quiet Westerners’ cemetery on Syros. William’s widow, Πολυξένη, being Orthodox, probably rests in the Greek cemetery a few 100 metres away. We don’t know when the couple married (1860s?); Polyxena’s father, George Paterakis, was from Constantinople, and probably of some standing. The Binneys had had no children by 1873.

The former premises of the Eastern Telegraph Company, Syros, now the Merchant Marine Academy of Syros for Marine Deck Officers.

And of William’s career? And how he came to Syros? Follow the money. William, as part of a very  well-to-do and successful extended family who made their livings from commerce, merchant-shipping and the sea, was clearly ambitious to compete and strike out on his own; and quite prepared to travel and leave traces of his own. By the mid 1880s maritime nations were being linked by the invention of undersea cable-telegraphy, and the needs of the British Empire provided a booming market for companies in this sector. One of these was the Eastern Telegraph Company, a consolidation, in 1872, of a dynamic group of telegraphy businesses, involving some 23,000 miles of cabling by the late 1880s. This enterprise, of course, morphed eventually into today’s Cable and Wireless plc. A pivotal routing and operations hub for the Eastern Mediterranean, and British interests East, was based on Syros, and its capital, Ermoupoli, the main ‘port’ for all (‘new’) Greece before the growth of Pireaus around 1900. It was plain commercial sense that the Eastern Telegraph Company’s regional cable station and depot should be built on a (then) disconnected rock (Νησάκι), a hop from Ermoupoli’s seafront. The solid building (which probably housed Binney’s consular office too) still stands and now houses the island’s Merchant Marine Academy.

Announcement of William Binney’s appointment as ‘Her Majesty’s Consul in the Islands in the Greek Archipelago’ (‘The London Gazette’, 24145/5113, Tuesday, October 27, 1874).

William Binney held the important post of general manager for ETC’s Syros hub by 1883 at least, if not earlier; it is recorded that he had already been an employee for 25 years by around that date. His skillset obviously included diplomacy, and in 1874 we learn that “the Queen has been graciously pleased to appoint William Pryor Binney, Esq., to be Her Majesty’s Consul in the Islands in the Greek Archipelago, to reside in the Island of Syra [Foreign Office, September 5, 1874. The London Gazette, 24145/5113, Tuesday, October 27, 1874, and ‘The Morning Post’ of Wednesday, October 28, 1874].

 

Presumably this appointment helped Binney acquire his gongs, i.e. “the title of Chevalier from the King of Greece and decoration of the order of the Saviour and order of the Iron Cross, from the Emperor of Austria.” His duties would have included looking after his country’s interests and personnel in the region and reporting on the activities of potential rivals. Copies of communications between William and the UK Foreign Office can be found in the FO Volumes of the British Consuls in Greece, in the National Archive, Kew (i.e. 1881 FO 32/534; 1882 FO 32/546; 1892 FO 32/644; 1893 FO 32/653).

And as well as all this, Mabel Bent refers to William as not only fastidious, but ‘kind’ (she adds ‘so’ and underlines it). Theodore Bent met Binney first in Athens, in late November 1883. He became a friend it seems as well as Consul, providing the Bents with information and letters of introduction to contacts in the Cyclades generally. Theodore at this time was not particularly influential and it seems that Binney was being helpful to a British citizen as part of his consular duties. One of the contact names he slipped into Theodore’s pocket was Robert M.W. Swan, a Scottish miner on Antiparos. Swan was later to be central to Bent’s expedition to ‘Great Zimbabwe’ for Cecil Rhodes in 1891. But by then Binney was dead.

Let’s leave the last paragraphs on kind William Pryor Binney to Mabel Bent, as recorded in the pages of her Greek ‘Chronicles’. The final reference to his fatal illness comes as a shock:

A watercolour of Syros in the mid 19th century by Edward Lear; ‘the old sparkly pile’ he called it (diary entry for Wednesday, 6 April 1864).

“[Saturday, 1 December 1883] We had a quick but very rough passage, starting at 7 and getting [to Syros] about 3.30 a.m. Wednesday [28 November]. The ‘Pelops’ was quite new and very clean and I should have slept well but for the fleas. We landed at Ermoupolis at 6.30 and sat on the balcony overlooking the port for 2 hours as there was no bedroom vacant, nor did we get one till 5 o’clock. Mr. John Quintana, H.B.M. Vice Consul on whom Theodore called, came and fetched us and we spent 2 hours at the Consulate in Mr. Binney, the Consul’s room, very large and nice and so tidy. Mr. Binney must be a most orderly man for everything was ticketed and docketed. Theodore called on him in Athens, says he is like a slight Greek, foreign accent and Greek wife.” [Mabel Bent’s Greek ‘Chronicles’, pages 7–8]

“[Tuesday, 18(?) December 1883]. Rode 1½ hour to the nearest point to Antiparos carrying only our night things and a card of introduction from Mr.  Binney for Mr. R. Swan who has a calamine mine on this island.” [Mabel Bent’s Greek ‘Chronicles’, page 21]

“[Saturday, 22 March 1884] We fortunately got a room at the Hôtel d’Angleterre [Syros] and thoroughly enjoy ‘taking mine ease in mine inn’. We packed a box of our spoils for England and this afternoon I rode and the others walked to Ano or Upper Syra, a hideous place with a view over this barren island. We got very tired of Syra by Friday and as we found a kaïke of Kythnos or Thermiá we packed and prepared to start. But the strong Boreas would not permit ships to leave the port so after constant expectations up to Sunday morning the 23rd we gave up and went to church, a very poor little place and very ‘low’, according to the wishes of Mr. Binney the Consul. Afterwards we lunched with Mr.  Binney, Mr. Quinney the parson, being there also. N.B. Mr. Binney’s clerk is Mr. Finney.” [Mabel Bent’s Greek ‘Chronicles’, page 54]

“[Thursday, 26 January 1888] We only got to Syra on Thursday. We landed

The Syra British Cemetery
The Syra British Cemetery, Ermoupoli, near the junction of Taxiarchon and Katramadou, on the way to Ano Syros (photo: Alan King).

and found to our sorrow that our kind consul Mr. Binney was dreadfully ill.” [Mabel Bent’s Greek ‘Chronicles’, page 228]

“[Saturday, 25 February 1888] On Thursday… about 4 we left ‘The Town’ [Constantinople] in the ‘Alphée’ for Syra, picking up letters at the post on the way. We had no remarkable fellow passengers and reached Syra on Saturday morning about 4… We went to church on Sunday to a tidy little chapel, which they say will be closed if Mr. Binney is no longer there to keep it up.” [Mabel Bent’s Greek ‘Chronicles’, page 234]

William Binney’s grave in the Westerners’ cemetery, Syros (The Bent Archive).

Kind William Pryor Binney died 16 days after Mabel’s last reference to him, on 12 March 1888, of what she doesn’t say. (Appropriately, the new British Cemetery behind where he lies takes in the scattered Commonwealth war burials from the islands of the Cyclades.) He was not yet 50. Another William took over from him as Consul at Syros, W.H. Cottrell. People come and go; everyone travels; everyone leaves traces of their travels.

[The extracts from Mabel Bent’s diaries are taken from ‘The Travel Chronicles of Mrs J Theodore Bent‘, Vol. 1. Archaeopress, Oxford, 2006, and see also Theodore Bent’s ‘The Cyclades‘]

See also Alan King’s article on Binney and the Syra cemetery here.

[If you enjoyed reading about the likeable William Binney, you might enjoy a recent (2020) online article on him by Panagiotis Kouloumbis of Syros Today.]

The following three photographs (Jan. 2025) show the results of volunteers’ recent efforts “to clear the weeds, cut the bushes, throw the rubble and sweep”. The final resting place of Mabel Bent’s particular friend, William Pryor Binney (1839-1888), and the others buried there, is once again respected. Many thanks to all involved.

Syros Westerners’ Cemetery, recently cleaned by a group of volunteers over three days (Jan 2026). The large memorial on the right is the reverse side of William Pryor Binney’s grave. Reproduced with permission.
Syros Westerners’ Cemetery, recently cleaned by a group of volunteers over three days (Jan 2026). Reproduced with permission.
Syros Westerners’ Cemetery, recently cleaned by a group of volunteers over three days (Jan 2026). The doorway leads to the Commonwealth War Graves section of the cemetery. Reproduced with permission.

A new and rare photo of Theodore Bent appears (Summer 2025)

The very rare portrait of Theodore Bent from his obituary in ‘St. James’s Budget’, 14 May 1897 (Bent died on 5 May 1897). The studio of J. Russell & Sons, pre 1895. (From the British Library Collection, shelfmark MFM.MLD32, 14/05/1897, page 15, reproduced with permission).

That invaluable resource The British Newspaper Archive regularly adds new and arcane material. Recently (Summer 2025), they included in their collection the St James’s Budget (a weekly digest of the St James’s Gazette, a London evening newspaper for the middle classes), and the issue of 14 May 1897 (p. 15) carried an obituary of Theodore Bent, who had died on 5 May.

The obituary (see our anthology) includes a very rare photograph of Bent, from the studio of J. Russell & Sons, the establishment’s photographer of choice: a photograph that in all likelihood has not been reproduced since 1897.

We don’t know for the moment the date of the photograph, but it probably comes from a session in the Baker Street branch of Russell’s, shot, possibly, as late as the Spring of 1895 – a session that might also have resulted in some other iconic images we have of the Bents, including the one of Theodore – with whip and topee – that Mabel selected for her husband’s obituary in the Illustrated London News of 15 May 1897 (p. 669), which is well known.

Also from the Russell studio (pre 1895), Theodore, with whip and topee, an image Mabel selected for her husband’s obituary in the ‘Illustrated London News’ of 15 May 1897 (p. 669).

Accordingly, we now have four images of the Bents from Russell’s, two of Theodore and two of Mabel, probably taken at the same time. Unfortunately, there is no evidence of a Russell photograph showing the couple together. The Bents’ travel schedule, and commitments in Britain, would have made arranging a studio session complicated.

 

Mabel Bent dressed for travel. (Photo taken (pre 1895) in the studios of society-photographers, J. Russell & Sons).

The fourth Russell image is of Mabel, standing confidently by the side of one of her own cameras – she had become expedition photographer as early as 1885.

Sitters for J. Russell & Sons are well represented in London collections, e.g. The National Portrait Gallery and The Victoria and Albert Museum.

For other photos related to the Bents, see our Gallery

‘Ya Mabel’ and the Duchess (Southern Oman) – by Marielle Risse

Dr Marielle Risse now lives in Cambridge, MA. She taught cultural studies, literature and pedagogy for 21 years on the Arabian Peninsula at the American University of Sharjah (UAE), the University of Sharjah-Woman’s (UAE) and Dhofar University (Oman). Her research areas are Arabian Peninsula cultures and intercultural communication. Her previous books are Community and Autonomy in Southern Oman (Palgrave Macmillan, 2019), Foodways in Southern Oman (Routledge, 2021) and Houseways in Southern Oman (Routledge, 2023). Her most recent book is Researching and Working on the Arabian Peninsula: Creating Effective Interactions (2025, Palgrave Macmillan).

General map of Arabia marked with the areas of interest to the Bents in the 1890s (‘Southern Arabia’ 1900).

Theodore and Mabel Bent journeyed to Oman in the winter of 1894/5, and, having seen many references to the explorers in Marielle’s work, we asked her if she would care to write something for us, of her choice, weaving the Bents into the landscape she loves…

Cite from this article, please, as: Marielle Risse, ‘Ya Mabel’ and the Duchess: A Victorian but Modern, Female Traveller and a Modern but Victorian, Female Traveller in Southern Oman. An article in The Bent Archive website, August 2025 [http://tambent.com/2025/08/07/ya-mabel-and-the-duchess-by-marielle-risse/]

‘Ya Mabel’ and the Duchess: A Victorian but Modern, Female Traveller and a Modern but Victorian, Female Traveller in Southern Oman

By Marielle Risse, August 2025

Abstract

Wadi Dabat, eastern sector of Jabal al Qara, Dhofar highlands (Wikipedia, credit: Shifabeg, Sept. 2018).

Has travel writing moved with the times, shedding racism, colonialism, ‘othering,’ and metro-centric points of view? What are the conditions in which ‘imagination and humility necessary to climb into the head of people who live by a very different set of assumptions’ is created? Later travellers to southern Oman have seen and reported only what was most unusual, most foreign and more recent books about the Dhofar region show less understanding of the culture than articles and books written in the 1800s. We will discuss two specific examples of this odd juxtaposition: a Victorian, female traveller who is more accurate about Dhofaris than a modern, female traveller.

Keywords: Dhofar, Mabel Bent, Oman, Qara Mountains, Theodore Bent, travel writing; Jan Morris, Suzanna St. Albans, Wilfred Thesiger

Introduction

My starting question for this research is: has travel writing moved with the times, shedding racism, colonialism, ‘othering,’ and metro-centric points of view? Thinking specifically about southern Arabia, why would Thesiger, now described as ‘a fond old blimp in cavalry-twills’ write about inhabitants of the southern Dhofar region with understanding and respect while writers from the late 20th and early 21st centuries stay stuck in the ‘exoticizing’ mode? note 1 

Thesiger’s Arabian Sands is widely acclaimed as a great travel book; it is also an accurate travel book. note 2  He not only wrote what he observed, he wrote the explanations for the actions and attitudes he observed. He had the rare advantage of time, but even if his work is set aside, the earlier explorers/surveyors of the Dhofar had, within the blinkers of their ‘imperial gaze’, an ability to observe and report accurately. note 3 

Many later travellers to southern Oman saw and reported only what was most unusual, most foreign. These more recent books about the Dhofar region show less understanding of the culture than articles and books written in the 1800s. I will discuss two specific examples of this odd juxtaposition: a Victorian, female traveller who is more accurate about Dhofaris than a modern, female traveller.

Theodore (1852-1897) and Mabel (1847-1929) Bent, quintessential Victorians, explored the coast and the mountains of southern Oman in 1894. A few years later, Theodore having died four days after their return to England from Aden in 1897, an account of their travels in the wider region feature in Southern Arabia (1900), compiled by Mabel. note 4  With reference to Oman, although there are plenty of acidic comments [‘Merbat [Mirbat] is uncongenial’ with ‘no points of interest’], Mabel also includes careful documentation of the tribespeople living in the Qara Mountains (232). She was not pleased that the Qara men addressed her only as ‘Ya Mabel’ instead of ‘Mrs. Bent’ but she was capable of insights such as ‘Travelers like ourselves must be a great nuisance drinking up the scanty supply of water’.

I will compare her work to another Western woman who has written about the same area, including the Qara mountains, the Duchess of St. Albans, who was, surprisingly, less perceptive. In Where Time Stood Still: A Portrait of Oman (1980) St. Albans writes of the ‘primitive’ tribespeople who ‘have never worked with their hands’. How would ‘primitive’ people living in caves and herding flocks have survived if they had ‘never worked with their hands’?

The Bents

Theodore and Mabel had already explored in Italy, Greece, Bahrain, South Africa, Ethiopia, Sudan, and Yemen when they arrived in Oman. Their trip to Dhofar began when they left ‘Maskat’ (Muscat) 17 December 1894 and travelled by ship south along the coast, arriving in Mirbat on 20 December. After travelling along the coast and up into the mountains, they left the Dhofar region from Al Hafa (part of modern-day Salalah) on 23 January 1894. I believe they are the first Westerners to visit the Dhofar mountains to write a description of it.

Although the Bents were not in the employ of the British government, they were quintessential Victorian-age travellers who, in their writing, specifically support British imperialism in their Southern Arabia (1900/2005). The book, as mentioned above, written by Mabel after Theodore died soon after returning to England from Yemen in 1897, viewed all landscapes through the perspective of how the land might be useful to the Empire:

‘If this tract of country comes into the hands of a civilizing nation, it will be capable of great and useful development… and a health resort for the inhabitants [i.e. British inhabitants] of the burnt-up centres of Arabian commerce, Aden and Maskat (274).

Southern Arabia is a book with plenty of spleen – it’s impossible to say how much is caused by Mabel Bent’s mourning for her dead spouse or her natural disposition. In either case, it is amusing to come across her acid opinions: Mirbat has a ‘malarious-looking swamp’ and ‘Our boat was one of the dirtiest I have ever travelled on’ (232). She is clearly a forerunner to the Theroux/Naipaul/Granta/ ‘I hate the natives’ school of travel writing: ‘The Bedouin are rather clever at impromptu verses, and when we were in Wadi Ser they made night hideous by dancing in our camp’; ‘There is no law, order, authority, honor, honesty, or hospitality, and as to the people, I can only describe them as hateful and hating each other’; ‘it appears that a very wicked branch of the Hamoumi tribe hold a portion of this valley’; and she refers to one of the men she travelled with as ‘that horrid little Saleh Hassan’ (128, 175, 177, 217).

The Qara men she travelled with always addressed her, to her anger, only as ‘Mabel’ (258), with the local prefix when calling a person ‘ya’ – as in ‘Ya Mabel!’ They informed the Bents that ‘they did not wish us to give them orders of any kind as they were sheikhs’ and ‘We are gentlemen’ (258, 266). The mountain people of Dhofar, Mabel Bent writes, are:

‘… endowed with a spirit of independence which makes him resent the slightest approach to legal supervision… They would not march longer than they liked; they would only take us where they wished… and if we asked them not to sing at night and disturb our rest, they always set to work with greater vigour (248).

But she always includes a fair amount of real information, taking the time, for example, to explain how indigo is used to dye clothes (145). She also kindly gives hints to future travellers, i.e. warning future geologists that they must tell the camel men ahead of time they will carry rocks and that anthropologists should investigate the religion of the mountains (212, 261). She describes the scenery with careful attention to plants, rock formations, distances, etc. (e.g. Wadi Ghersid, 256; Wadi Nahast, 265) and, noticing that the language spoken in the ‘Gara’ [Qara] mountains was not a dialect, she includes a few words (275). Some of her information is still current. She mentions, for example, that oaths ‘to divorce a favourite wife, are really good’ (180) and the technique of cooking on stones (250), which I have seen practised several times.

The Bents eventually stop struggling to control and ‘we gave up any attempt to guide our own footsteps, but left ourselves entirely in his [Sheik Sehel] hands, to take us whether he would and spend as long about it as he liked’ (257).

Her summation is typical of British Victorian-era travellers: ‘We had discovered a real Paradise in the wilderness, which will be a rich prize for the civilized nation which is enterprising enough to appropriate it’ (276). Within the limited, imperialistic, point-of-view, a reader gets a clear sense of the place and the people. The Bents have a diamond-hard sense of self self-assurance, but they are able to describe accurately and write in a way which effectively gives you the information you need: as you understand the author’s prejudices, you can understand the places and people described and you can thus make your own judgment about both.

Morris

It is rather a surprise, after the gradually lowering racist/condescending tone seen in the arc from the Bents through Thesiger, to read Jan Morris’ Sultan in Oman (2008/1957) a smug, complacent, and judgmental book. note 5  She begins by widely overstating her achievement, declaring that she undertook the ‘… last classic journeys of the Arabian peninsula’, as if being driven in a jeep from Salalah to Muscat in 1956 was on par with Dougherty or Philby (1). To drive home the (moribund) English tradition, she notes that ‘Curzon and Gertrude Bell rose with us approvingly’ (2).

The descriptions illuminate more about Morris’ travels than Oman, i.e. Risut is like ‘… a bay in Cornwall or northern California’ (20); ‘The deeper we penetrated into these Qara foothills, the more lifeless and unearthly the country seemed… It was like an empty Lebanon’; the ‘abyss of Dahaq’ is compared to ‘Boulder or Grand Coulee’; and the Qara mountains ‘felt like England without the churches, or Kentucky without the white palings’ (27, 27, 38). A small lake is ‘“Better than the Backs”, said my companion, “not so many undergraduates”’, which only makes sense if the reader knows this is a term referring to the place where several Cambridge colleges back onto the River Cam (30).

 The people have ‘obscure rituals, taboos, and prejudices’ (31). In keeping with the general tone of relegating the inhabitants to prehistoric times, there is no mention of guns. The people ‘hurl in the general direction of their neighbours the heavy throwing sticks (less scientific than boomerangs) with which they were sometimes quaintly armed’ (40). It is clear even in Thesiger’s texts that the men of this region had access to and knowledge of guns. In fact, the cover of one edition is one of Thesiger’s photos showing Bin Ghabaisha holding a rifle.

The Dhofar War

I need to segue to briefly describe the war, from 1965-1975, in order to make my critique of St. Albans. The Dhofar War began as a result of widespread dissatisfaction with the rule of Said bin Taimur, which has been ‘characterized as a desperate attempt to keep the Fifteenth century from being contaminated by the Twentieth’. note 6 

Various groups of Dhofaris, primarily from the mountains, and angry at the lack of schools, clinics, electricity, etc., began to attack Oman’s small military forces, the Sultan’s Armed Forces (SAF). These groups coalesced into the Dhofar Liberation Front in 1964, which was then re-named, in 1968, People’s Front for the Liberation of Oman and the Arabian Gulf, and ‘a Marxist-Leninist revolutionary program was adopted for the rebellion’. note 7  Its goals included: ‘the liberation of slaves’; ‘the equality of women’ (which included the elimination of polygamy); ‘demolition of the tribal system’; and ‘the unity of all revolutionary forces in the Gulf’. note 8 

The SAF did not have enough men or equipment to cope with the insurgency, but the Sultan refused to spend money for the army, nor did he show any understanding or mercy towards the rebels’ demands. The result was that by 1970, the rebels controlled almost all of the Dhofar region. In the same year, in a bloodless coup d’etat, Sultan Qaboos took over control of his father’s government and immediately started a two-front counterattack. He increased the military presence and initiated a hearts and minds campaign to assure the rebels that he intended to meet their demands for modernization.

Soldiers who left the rebels were treated as ‘returning sons’; they were interviewed and immediately released, not jailed. note 9  Sultan Qaboos also ‘emphasized that the past practices of indiscriminate reprisals against civilians on the Jebel had to end.’ note 10 

The military who fought the rebels held them in respect as fighters; the enemy was ‘extremely good at seizing the initiative and had a wonderful eye for ground… once outflanked, they tended to melt away’. note 11  Their praise of the rebels is all the clearer when comparing the rebels to fighters from other countries who fought for the Sultan; Iranian and Jordanian soldiers are not accorded the same respect.

As firqat (civil militia) units were created, British soldiers then had the experience of fighting with men who had previously fought with the rebels. Although Jeapes, who wrote one of the first books about the war, often shows his impatience with Dhofaris, he and the other foreign writers have an overall positive impression. Gardiner writes: ‘Omanis were wonderful people to live with. They were superbly honest… They were generous to a fault and… they didn’t take themselves too seriously… [they] wished to be at peace with any man who was ready to be at peace with them.’ note 12 

 St. Albans

St. Albans’ travel book recounts her extended visit to Oman in the late 1970s. She was clearly no average tourist; her first ‘thank you’ in her Acknowledgements section is to Brigadier Peter Thwaites. The second is ‘The Sultan’s Armed Forces provided transport where I wanted to go’ (ix). Most of the other people mentioned are also British and military. She has done some reading about the history of Oman, but her opinions reflect no ability to understand the reality of the people. One example, of many, is her assertion that:

‘There is a company in England which manufactures florescent braces to make camels visible in the dark, but no Bedu in his right mind will go to the expense and trouble of importing this equipment for his animals. It is very much to his advantage anyway to get them killed on the roads, as the compensation for such a casualty is £500 each.’ (146)

How would desert-dwellers in Oman in the late 1970s have access to information about companies in England? How would they have access to things such as post-office boxes and credit cards to enable such a transaction? It is not to a camel owner’s ‘advantage’ to have his livestock killed by a car, the meat cannot be eaten, and as camels wander far afield, the owner may never know which vehicle killed the camel, not to mention the fact that camel owners grow attached to their animals.

When she arrives in Salalah, her statements become quite difficult to understand. She states that there are ‘nine illiterate tribes of primitive aborigines in the Qara [Mountains]’ (152). note 13  These ‘primitive aborigines’ had just waged a ten-year war with the Omani government in which they had close contact with not only the People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen, but Russia, China, Cuba, and various Arab countries.

Musallim bin Nafl, the first leader of this revolution, is dismissed by the Duchess as ‘a useless loafer’ and a ‘shiftless, bitter, dissatisfied layabout’, but when she visits mountain villages she is appalled at the conditions (155, 156).

She never connects the revolution encouraged by Musallim and the desperate poverty endured by his people. She writes that the ‘entire population of the Jebel were forced to co-operate’ in the war (157), without understanding that the disease and lack of food she sees in the late 1970s would have been worse in the late 1960s. The difficulties of daily life she herself witnessed encouraged the mountain people to fight against their government – which denied them the basic amenities of modern life such as schools and electricity. note 14 

In reading her autobiography Mango and Mimosa (2000), which recounts her work for the British military in World War Two, you might explain that her apathy towards the mountain fighters was generated (maybe sub-consciously) because they fought the British – but even the British who fought the Dhofaris were more realistic/understanding of their situation.

St. Albans describes the Bait Kathiri tribe as ‘nimble as goats’ and says that ‘like our own distant ancestors, they frequently paint themselves blue all over’ (168). Comparing men to animals is grossly insulting in Dhofar and the men do not paint themselves blue. Men and women traditionally wore indigo-dyed fabric which turned the skin blue, an important difference.

These small mistakes create a vision of an ancient, primitive people which erases the reality of the Dhofar region in the late 1970s. St. Albans only carefully describes the life of a small percentage of the inhabitants, living in caves and rough dwellings in the mountains. She discusses ‘witch doctors’ but not the many mosques or daily religious practices of Dhofaris (154). In Salalah at this time there was an airport, Holiday Inn, ‘shops and offices and ultra-modern television centre’, and a hospital (180), but she never shows Omanis interacting in/working in these modern surroundings. The ‘comfortable seaside bungalow’ she stays in is owned by British ex-pats, who are described, but when visiting the ‘model farm’, there is no reference to Omanis who work there (163, 164).

Discussion

 In the modern books, the emphasis is firmly placed on the ‘exotic’; where both the Bents and Haines (1845) are able to discern that the people’s ‘skins are discoloured by the dye from their dress, which is composed of blue cotton’ (112), St. Albans sees people who paint themselves.

 Evelyn Waugh wrote, ‘It was fun thirty-five years ago to travel far and in great discomfort to meet people whose entire conception of life and manner of expression were alien. Now one has only to leave one’s gate. All fates are worse than death.’ note 15  I think that ‘leaving one’s gate’ is no longer ‘alien’ enough – modern travel writers have an up-hill battle trying to show that they are doing/discovering something new, hence the emphasis on the unusual.

Mabel Bent and her husband were looking for land that would be of benefit for their country; St. Albans was looking for bizarre stories to tell. It is striking how the more recent writers show less understanding and less respect than British writers for the imperialistic era, given the modern emphasis on equality and multi-cultural education. note 16  Gardiner writes that:

‘The patience and tolerance to live harmoniously in an unfamiliar culture; the fortitude to be content with less than comfortable circumstances for prolonged periods; an understanding of and sympathy with a foreign history and religion; a willingness to learn a new language; the flexibility, imagination and humility necessary to climb into the head of people who live by a very different set of assumptions; none of these are found automatically in our modern developed Euro-Atlantic culture.’ note 17 

The question remains: What are the conditions in which ‘imagination and humility necessary to climb into the head of people who live by a very different set of assumptions’ is created?

References

Belanger, Kelly 1997. ‘James Theodore Bent and Mabel Virginia Anna Bent’. British Travel Writers: 1876-1909: 31-40. Detroit: Gale Research.

Bent, James Theodore 1895. ‘Exploration of the Frankincense Country, Southern Arabia’. The Geographical Journal 6.2: 109-33.

Bent, James Thedore and Mabel Bent 2005 [1900]. Southern Arabia. London: Elibron.

Bent, Mabel 2010. The Travel Chronicles of Mrs. J. Theodore Bent, Volume III: Deserts of Vast Eternity, Southern Arabia and Persia. Gerald Brisch (ed.). Oxford: Archaeopress.

Haines, Stafford 1845. ‘Memoir of the South and East Coasts of Arabia: Part II’. Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London 15: 104-160.

Morris, Jan 2008 [1957]. Sultan in Oman. London: Eland.

St. Albans, Suzanne (Duchess) 2000. Mango and Mimosa. London: Virago.

— 1980. Where Time Stood Still: A Portrait of Oman. London: Quartet Books Ltd.

Thesiger, Wilfred 1991 [1959]. Arabian Sands. New York: Penguin.

— 1950. ‘The Badu of Southern Arabia’. Journal of the Royal Central Asian Society 37: 53-61.

— 1950. ‘Desert Borderlands of Oman’. Geographical Journal 116: 137-171.

— 1949. ‘A Further Journey across the Empty Quarter’. Geographical Journal 113: 21-46.

— 1948. ‘Across the Empty Quarter’. Geographical Journal 111: 1-21.

— 1946. ‘A New Journey in Southern Arabia’. Geographical Journal 108: 129-145.

Endnotes

Note 1:  Ian Thomson, ‘Continental – Books’, The Times (23 Oct. 1994).
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Note 2:  Wilfred Thesiger, Arabian Sands. I lived in Salalah for 19 years and am using my personal experiences, extensive research on the culture/history of the region and countless wide-ranging discussions with Dhofar men and women (friends, colleagues and members of my research group) to judge ‘accuracy’.
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Note 3:  I am using Mary Louise Pratt’s concept from Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation (2nd edn, London: Routledge, 2007).
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Note 4:  Theodore and Mabel Bent, Southern Arabia.
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Note 5:  Jan Morris, Sultan in Oman.
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Note 6:  Fawwaz Trabulsi, ‘The Liberation of Dhofar’, MERIP Reports 6 (1972): 3-11. 5.
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Note 7:  J.B. Kelly, ‘Hadramaut, Oman, Dhufar: The Experience Of Revolution’, Middle East Studies Association Bulletin 12.2 (1976): 213-30. 224.
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Note 8:  Trabulsi, ‘The Liberation of Dhofar’. 9, 10.
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Note 9:  Tony Jeapes, SAS: Operation Oman (Nashville: The Battery Press, 1980). 37.
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Note 10:  Walter Ladwig, ‘Supporting Allies In Counterinsurgency: Britain and the Dhofar Rebellion’, Small Wars and Insurgencies 19.1 (2008). 71, 72.
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Note 11:  Ian Gardiner, In the Service of the Sultan: A First-hand Account of the Dhofar Insurgency (South Yorkshire: Pen and Sword Military, 2007). 50.
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Note 12:  Gardiner, In the Service. 58.
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Note 13:  These comments are representative of her attitude towards Dhofaris; she frequently writes sentences which highlight the ‘foreignness’ of the region but are not accurate. For example she states that the ‘Bait Kathi’ ‘employ as slaves the last three hundred aborigines of the eastern range’ (152). The term ‘slaves’ in Dhofar referred to Africans/African-Omanis from Africa, never people from Omani mountain tribes. In the past, some tribes were classified as ‘weak’: the men were not allowed to carry weapons or marry women from the ‘strong’ tribes. These weak tribes were seen as ‘clients’ to stronger tribes and were protected in return for services such as herding animals, but the people were in no way owned or indentured, see Salim Bakhit Tabook, Tribal Practices and Folklore of Dhofar, Sultanate of Oman. Unpublished PhD thesis, Faculty of Arts, Exeter University, 1997. 44, 55-60, 77-82.
Return from Note 13

Note 14:  The only other writer who shares St Albans’ point of view is Tremayne, who visited the area during the war and later wrote: ‘The Dhofar War as not a revolution; it was an insurgency and it was foreign; that is, it was sustained from outside Oman, from the PDRY, and paid for by China and USSR. Its objectives were not those of the population. Its hard-core men were mostly Dhofaris removed from Dhofar as children, education in the PDRY as revolutionary Marxists and trained in the Soviet Union, China and elsewhere as guerrilla fighters. They were in fact not in the least representative of the people whom they sought to lead, nor concerned with the country’s own welfare.’ Penelope Tremayne, ‘End of A Ten Years War’, Journal of the Royal United Services Institute for Defense Studies 122.1 (1977): 44-8. 47.

This attitude is not shared by any of the soldiers who fought in the war, or other researchers. The alternate view can be seen in Trabulsi: ‘He [Sultan Said] introduced oil companies into the Sultanate and he wanted to obliterate any social, political, or cultural effect they might incur. Furthermore, he wanted to monopolize the oil revenue and retain the old economic basis of his system: extortion of the economic surplus through taxation and levies. He was determined not to share a penny with a hungry, undernourished and unemployed population what was discovering, through emigration, the fabulous economic possibilities of the oil economy.’ ‘The Liberation of Dhofar’, 8.
Return from Note 14


Note 15:  Evelyn Waugh, Diaries of Evelyn Waugh. Michael Davie, ed. (Boston: Little Brown, 1976). 791.
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Note 16:  ‘Students in most English-speaking countries are asked to read against the grain of what they are now regularly taught to see, at least at the post-secondary level, as situated and ideological texts, and they are also enabled to study a wider range of texts, produced by a wider range of authors and “cultures” than they had before.’ May Bain Campbell, ‘Travel Writing and its Theory’, in The Cambridge Companion to Travel Writing, ed. Peter Hulme and Tim Youngs (Cambridge; Cambridge University Press, 2002): 262-78. 262.
Return from Note 16

Note 17:  Gardiner, In the Service. 174.
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Bent’s “The Cyclades”: An anonymous review from the “Pall Mall Budget” of 17 April 1885

The Isles of Greece*

Title page from the first edition (1885) of Bent’s “The Cyclades; or Life Among the Insular Greeks”.

“Though Mr. Bent is an Oxford man, he knows some Greek, and has managed somehow to retain or acquire a profound interest in things Hellenic. That is always something, for Greece is a country towards which, in spite of our education, we all possess somewhat of a filial affection: but Mr. Bent does more than this – he takes an active interest in the living Greeks, his ways and modes of thinking, largely tempered by the modern anthropological and sociological point of view, too often wholly wanting or absolutely repellent to the confirmed Hellenist. If there is one form of savant left on earth upon whose ears the echo of the sociological revolution falls dull and muffled, it is your old-fashioned classical scholar, hermetically sealed in his own sturdy with his grammar and his lexicon, his editions and manuscripts. For him, Lubbock and Tylor are not: the Folk-lore Society sings to him like a siren, all in vain: no savage myth rises vague upon his narrow horizon: no dim memory of forgotten barbarism shines faintly on him from the storied pages of Plato or Pausanias. His world begins with the First Olympiad: his history finishes with the death of Odoacer. Not of such as these is Mr. Bent. A folk-lorist to the backbone, eager to discover and compare while yet they survive the lingering relics of native Hellenic popular mythology, he has spent two winters hard at work among the almost unbroken ground of the Cyclades, and has finally recorded his net results for us in this pleasant, amusing, and instructive volume.

A detail from Bent’s map of the Cyclades from his 1885 edition.

“[Bernhard] Schmidt had been beforehand with him, it is true, on the Greek mainland; but then, the Greek mainland is largely Albanian, and its folk-lore is largely tinctured with alien elements. The islands, on the other hand, have been always Greek, and, practically speaking, always free. So hither Mr. Bent went with his wife, in search of habits and manners, and dwelling among the people in their own hamlets, collected a goodly store of facts and fancies, which he knows how to detail for us with a cunning pen. At first he studied his human subjects with the aid of a dragoman; but as time went on, and as he began to acquire fluency in the language which we are all supposed to have learned at school, he went direct to the fountain head, and extorted from the not unwilling lips of demarchs and priests and hostesses and pretty Greek maidens innumerable tales of Fates and Nereids, of Boreas and St. Demetrius, of ancient god and Christian martyr, in the picturesque confusion of medieval Europe. The nymphs of the fountain take the place, among the Cyclades, of our northern fairies; Dionysus has got himself thinly Christianized as St. Dionysius; and Charon, properly baptised no doubt for the occasion, still ferries over orthodox Greeks to their last resting-place, as he used to do rightminded Pagans of old to the realms of Hades. Nowhere does the thin veneer of the new religion lie more lightly over the solid and enduring substructure of the old than among the Greek Islands. Essentially pagan still in all his underlying mythological conceptions, the insular Hellene remains a living relic of ages far earlier than even those of the Attic dramatists – he goes back in part to the most primitive stratum of European belief and philosophy. We could have wished that Mr. Bent had given us a little more of actual description of these beautiful and barren islands, but we recognize at the same time how much his book gains from its unique devotion to a difficult, elusive, and fascinating pursuit.

Detail from the front page of the “Pall Mall Budget” for 17 April 1885.

“Sometimes, indeed, as in the episode of the ardent collector waiting patiently at Myconos till somebody should die, and inquiring with sinister anxiety after the health of the various failing invalids, in order that he might be present at one of the death-wails which form the staple product and pride of the island – the eagerness of the folk-lorist becomes positively weird and gruesome in its intensity. A modern story-teller might improve upon the position by making the single-hearted inquirer poison his host so as to provide a victim for the wailing women in the interests of science. We present the hint gratuitously as a valuable property to Mr. Wilkie Collins. If we have repeated none of Mr. Bent’s own good stories, it is only in order that we may send our readers direct to his amusing pages in search of them at first hand. There is matter enough in this little volume to stock half a dozen ordinary bookmakers’ fat notebooks.”

* “The Cyclades.” By J. Theodore Bent. 12s. 6d. (London: Longmans.)

……………………..

Anonymous review of Bent’s The Cyclades; or Life Among the Insular Greeks, from the Pall Mall Budget – 17 April 1885, page 28.

Bent’s book was published on 28 February 1885.