In early June I was thinking about the progress and likely
direction of my PhD research and became a little concerned that it lacked the 'so what?' factor. I wondered that it might not be as relevant or compelling a
subject as more contentious memorials and monuments. * In correspondence with
my supervisors I had specifically cited the memorial to Edward Colston in
Bristol as an example of a memorial with 'issues'. Two days later in the wake
of the murder of George Floyd and during the growing Black Lives Matter
protests the monument had been pulled down by demonstrators and thrown in the
harbour.
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| Colston Memorial, Bristol. Wikimedia Commons |
I had been aware of the Colston statue for a few years and had recently read an article by Sally Morgan, 'Memory and the Merchants: Commemoration and Civic Identity', first published in the International Journal of Heritage Studies in 1998. In the piece Morgan argues convincingly that the monument could be considered as the continued creation of a civic memory which had been established by Colston himself. It is difficult to gauge intention at such a remove from events, but she considered his philanthropy during his lifetime and through continued legacies after his death were partly conscious acts to ensure his remembrance as a benevolent benefactor. In celebrating his perceived generous benefaction, the elites of late-Victorian Bristol were also lauding their own philanthropy. Such benevolence came to be regarded as a significant civic virtue during the nineteenth century. It was a duty that the monied class owed to their communities, although this duty was linked inextricably with a sense of paternalism and often the expectation of loyalty, gratitude, and deference.
In the mid-nineteenth century Colston's life and
works were celebrated in a biography by Thomas Gerrard, edited by Samuel Tovey
and published in 1852. Although a certain amount of parsimony and general
idiosyncrasy is acknowledged in his character his acts of charity and conscientious
piety are lauded. There are some references to the West India trade but, unsurprisingly
perhaps, there is no reference to the slave trade. When his statue was erected
in a civic ceremony on 13 November 1895 an article on 'The Colston Statue' in the
Bristol Mercury of 16 November reports that in the speeches made on the
day he is described by the Mayor as a 'god fearing man who founded all his work
on high principles'. Colston goes on to be eulogised by the Bishop of Bristol
and again there is no allusion to slavery in his transatlantic trading. Attempts
were clearly being made to create a palatable history for Colston in post-Abolition
Britain.
Having noted the contemporaneous celebrations of
Colston during the unveiling it is also interesting to reflect that, as Morgan has
outlined, Colston's memory’s place in the affections of the citizenry of Bristol
was questionable even at that time. She cites Latimer's The Annals of Bristol
in the Nineteenth Century 1887-1900, published in 1902, which shows that there
was a struggle to raise funding for the memorial and much of the cost was
defrayed by a single donor. The Bristol Mercury article cited above also notes
the difficulties in raising monies for the project.
In the two decades or so since the publication of
Morgan’s article, the heightened awareness of Colston's slave trade connections
meant that the identification of his statue with the city of Bristol came under
increasing critical scrutiny. There were numerous well documented attempts to
get the statue removed through petitions and protest. Since its removal, and although
there was some criticism of the manner in which the statue was removed, there seem
to have been few voices raised in defence of the man or protests from those who
considered the memorial as an essential identifier for the city.
My own reactions on the day it came down were
conflicted. Although I could acknowledge the horrific effects of the slavery in
which Colston was implicated, at an instinctive level I was disturbed to see a significant
element of a cityscape altered by direct action. There was, if I am honest, a
certain anxiety about the unlawfulness of the events and the potential for stimulating
greater disorder on a national level. At a distance of a month or so from the incident
I am rather glad that the monument does not have pride of place in Bristol.
Glad also that it has been retrieved and can be used for reflective studies of
the history of Bristol and the role of slavery in developing the wealth of country and empire. I was also interested to see the impromptu replacement of the Colston
monument with the figure of Jen Reid. It is, perhaps, right that it too did not
remain, but it should also be kept as a testament to events. Maybe the empty
plinth could now be used creatively in the same way as the fourth plinth of
Trafalgar Square.
The problem with some monuments is that they either
should not have been erected in the first place or, as others have noted, they
simply last too long. In this light it is better perhaps that we look to ways
of adapting and changing our public spaces to be more inclusive and
representative of the diversity of our populations and the complexities of our
history.
Sally Morgan (1998) 'Memory and the
merchants: Commemoration and civic identity, International Journal of
Heritage Studies, 4:2, 103-113. https://doi.org/10.1080/13527259808722225.
'The Colston Statue', Bristol Mercury,
16 November 1895, p.5.
Andrew Walmsley, July 2020
https://www.lancaster.ac.uk/history/about/people/andrew-walmsley
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