Disaster for London Zoo founder

Opposite to the main gate of London Zoo is an elegant building that is the headquarters of the Zoological Society of London. “Founded AD 1826” says the lettering above the main door.

Disappointment is a fact of life but the sorrow must have been crushing for Sir Stamford Raffles, one of the founding fathers of the society. Raffles is a towering figure in the history of the Western involvement in Southeast Asia. He is particularly noted for his involvement in the development of Singapore where there are plenty of statues and memorials to him. Perhaps the best known monument is the luxurious Raffles Hotel.

During his many years traveling through Southeast Asia, Raffles showed an unceasing interest plants and animals and formed an extensive collection of samples, drawings and paintings, and specimens of species many of which had never been recorded before. On February 2, 1824, Raffles and his wife Sophia embarked on board the Fame at Bencoolen, now Bengkulu, on the western coast of Sumatra, Indonesia, an important settlement of the East India Company. The couple left behind four of their children in the cemetery at Bencoolen.
The personal collection, carefully packed in 122 cases, together with papers which Raffles intended to work on during the voyage, were loaded. A collection of animals and plants was also taken aboard. Raffles wrote: “There was scarce an unknown animal, bird, beast, or fish, or an interesting plant, which we had not on board: a living tapir, a new species of tiger, splendid pheasants &c, domesticated for the voyage: we were, in short, in this respect, a perfect Noah´s ark.” Nothing was insured and the collection took up a third of the cargo space. The rest of the cargo was saltpetre. This is potassium nitrate, the chief ingredient of gunpowder.

Two days after departure, disaster struck. Raffles wrote:

“The ship was everything we could wish; and having closed my charge here, it was one of the happiest days of my life. We were, perhaps, too happy; for in the evening came a sad reverse. Sophia had just gone to bed, and I had thrown off half my clothes, when a cry of fire, fire! roused us from our calm content, and in five minutes the whole ship was in flames! I ran to examine whence the flames principally issued, and found that the fire had its origin immediately under our cabin. Down with the boats. Where is Sophia? – Here. The children? – Here. A rope to the side. Lower Lady Raffles. Give her to me, says one; I´ll take her, says the Captain. Throw the gunpowder overboard. It cannot be got at; it is in the magazine close to the fire. Stand clear of the powder. Scuttle the water casks. Water! Water! Where is Sir Stamford? Come into the boat, Nilson! Nilson! come into the boat. Push off, push off. Stand clear of the after part of the ship.

“All this passed much quicker than I can write it; we pushed off, and as we did so, the flames burst out of our cabin-window, and the whole of the after part of the ship was in flames; the masts and sails now taking fire, we moved to a distance sufficient to avoid the immediate explosion; but the flames were now coming out of the main hatchway; and seeing the rest of the crew, with the Captain, still on board, we pulled back to her under the bows, so as to be more distant from the powder. As we approached we perceived that the people on board were getting into another boat on the opposite side.”

A check showed one man, sick in his cot, was still on board but a daring rescue by the Raffles boat saved him, so no lives were lost. The boats started to move away from the blazing ship. “She was now one splendid flame, fore and aft, and aloft, her masts and sails in a blaze and, rocking to and fro, threatening to fall in an instant. There goes her mizzen mast! Pull away, my boys! There goes the gunpowder! Thank God! thank God!

“You may judge our situation without further particulars. The alarm was given at about twenty minutes past eight, and in less than ten minutes she was in flames; there was not a soul on board at half past eight, and in less than ten minutes afterwards she was one grand mass of fire…She continued to burn till about midnight, when the saltpetre she had on board took fire, and sent up one of the most splendid and brilliant flames that ever was seen, illuminating the horizon in every direction, to an extent of not less than fifty miles, and casting that kind of blue light over us, which is of all others most horrible. She burnt and continued to flame in this style for about an hour or two, when we lost sight of the object in a cloud of smoke.”

The survivors were quickly picked up by a passing ship Soon Raffles and his family were searching for another ship to take them home to Britain. “…with the exception of a bruise or two, and a little pain in the bones from fatigue, we have nothing to complain of.”

However, the loss of his papers and collections built up over 30 years in Southeast Asia greatly saddened Raffles. “The loss I have to regret beyond all, is my papers and drawings – all my notes and observations, with memoirs and collections, sufficient for a full and ample history, not only of Sumatra, but of Borneo, and almost every Island of note in these Seas; - my intended account of the establishment of Singapore – the history of my own administration; - eastern grammars, dictionaries, and vocabularies; - and last, not least, a grand map of Sumatra, on which I have been employed since my arrival here, and on which, for the last six months, I had bestowed almost all my whole undivided attention. This, however, was not all; - all my collections in natural history – all my splendid collections of drawings, upwards of two thousand in number – with all the valuable papers and notes of my friends, Arnold and Jack.” He also lamented the loss of the animals and plants. “A loss like this can never be replaced, but I bow to it without repining.”

The family eventually arrived back in England at Plymouth on August 22, 1824. Later they found a London house at 23, Lower Grosvenor Street.

Raffles wrote: “I am much interested at present in establishing a grand Zoological collection in the Metropolis with a Society for the introduction of living animals, bearing the same relation to Zoology as a science that the Horticultural Society is to Botany.” A prospectus was published in March 1825. London Zoo traces its genesis back to this initiative.

***

©Phillip Bruce 2009.

Historic Shanghai bridge gets a facelift

Shanghai´s Garden Bridge across Suzhou Creek played a prominent role in the city’s turbulent history.

Suzhou Creek, or Soochow Creek as it used to be known, runs off the Huangpu, or Whangpoo, River at the start of the Bund where historic and imposing waterfront buildings stand. At this corner there was, and is, a garden, hence the name of the bridge over the Creek.

On a visit earlier this year the Garden Bridge had vanished. Not for any sinister reason but because it is being thoroughly restored before being put back in place in time for Shanghai´s international expo which will take place in 2010. Traffic flows busily over a modern bridge.

Suzhou Creek starts at Guajingkou, on Taihu Lake, and flows 125 kilometers, or nearly 80 miles, down to Shanghai. The part of the waterway that flows through the Shanghai municipal area is being extensively upgraded and improved with environmental considerations a high priority. Designs show gardens extending around the southern bank along the creek.

There has been a crossing over the creek ever since foreigners first arrived in Shanghai. On June 16, 1889, a survey showed that 20,968 rickshaws crossed the old Willis Bridge, as did 2,759 singe-wheeled carts, 1,633 carriages, 22 goods vehicles, 27 sedan chairs and 28 horses. The Shanghai Municipal Council completed a replacement bridge the same year. In 1909, the famous Garden Bridge replaced that.

In 1948, G.R.G. Worcester, a member of the Chinese Maritime Customs, decided to travel up to Suzhou from the Garden Bridge. Despite the modern measurement of the length of the Creek, he put it at 117 miles. He said in his book, The Junkman Smiles, published in 1959:

“Time was when travel by junk or sampan in the bewildering and intricate network of waterways of Kiangsu and Chekiang was the only means of long-distance, cross-country transport, and nobody was in a hurry. But about the turn of the century things began to change, and there came into being a service composed of small launches. Finally, a variety of dumb-lighter, carrying passengers, was added. This immediately became popular, and today there are few waterways without their boat trains, so called because the procession, with very short tow-ropes, looks more akin to the coaches of a railway train than to the lengthy water-borne tow. Everything possible is left to chance. The deck is usually unsafe and leaks. The hand-rails are liable to give way at any moment, and the whole, pantechnicon, for so it may be called, is grossly overcrowded. Nevertheless, it generally manages to retain its stability against the most fearful odds. Frequent stops en route are made, and at the end of the voyage it would probably be found that not a single passenger who embarked at the beginning of the trip was still on board at the terminus; and yet the density of the human cargo has always remained the same.

“I could have gone from Shanghai to Hangchow [Hangzhou] in four and a half hours in the afternoon express train, in a first-class compartment, with dinner in the dining-car, but I preferred to go the hard way, the way the junkmen would travel. To me the joy of moving down the creeks, with the sights and sounds of Chinese life afloat around one, is a pleasure I would not willingly forgo for any form of rapid transport. So I proceeded (this was 1948) to the Soochow Creek to join the 4.30 p.m. Shanghai-Hangchow boat train. No rigorous time-table is adhered to, but the ´trains´ do leave within one or two hours of the advertised time. This one was due to reach its destination the following night, taking thirty-six hours to cover the 117 miles.

“The departure of these ´trains´ is rich in human interest, and presents an unrivalled scene of confusion. Hawkers, coolies, loafers, thieves, beggars, and tea-boys crowd round the prospective passengers and offer free advice or highly-priced service. The traveling kitchens are everywhere to be seen. Everyone seems to be struggling with one or more pieces of unhandy luggage. But the chief interest centres in the mass of craft of all kinds with which the creek appears to be completely blocked, so that the question occurs, how did the boat train worm its way in among this congestion of junks, sampans and launches; and, having got there, how will it extricate itself? But it does.”

The picture shows an old view of the bridge, at the junction of the Suzhou Creek with the Huangpu River, with the Astor House Hotel at the left end.

***

©Phillip Bruce 2009.