
Dear Readers, I have lived in the London Borough of Barnet for nearly fifteen years, but yesterday I realised that I’d never been to the Barnet Museum. Located in Chipping Barnet (closest station: High Barnet) this is an extraordinary collection of ‘stuff’ that has been donated and found over the years. Unlike many museums, this is run entirely by volunteers, and what a cheery, informative and knowledgeable lot they are! The building (which used to be the Brewmaster’s house for the local brewery) is absolutely stuffed to the gunnels with everything from cannonballs from the Battle of Barnet (1471) through WWI and WW2 paraphernalia, from Pearly King and Queen outfits to the Barnet Ventilator. Here are just a few of my personal highlights.
The Battle of Barnet was part of the Wars of the Roses, and no one is quite sure where it was actually fought. There’s a Battle of Barnet guided walk pretty much every year, so I shall gird my loins and go along next time.

Upstairs there’s a sign for the Barnet Horse Fair ( no dogs or chickens for sale). At one point (1834 to be precise), this was the UK’s largest cattle market, with over 40,000 animals for sale. These days it’s still a fair, but features carousels and helter-skelters rather than livestock. And incidentally, for anyone interested in Cockney rhyming slang, ‘Barnet Fair’ = hair (these days usually shortened to ‘Barnet’.

And how about this sign? My mother and grandmother were evacuated to Slough during WWII. Having not seen a single bomb in Stratford, East London, an incendiary device landed outside their place of refuge on the first night that they were there. They were back in London by the end of the week.

Below is a model of the Colney Hatch Lunatic Asylum, which had the longest straight corridor in Britain when it was built – it would apparently take a visitor two hours to walk from one end to the other. 2,500 unfortunate people were ‘housed’ here when it opened in 1850. It was finally closed in 1989 when someone had the bright idea of ‘Care in the Community’. Amongst its patients were Adam Ant and the author Jenny Diski, and Lindsay Anderson’s film ‘Britannia Hospital’ featured the exterior of the building. Nowadays the building is ‘Princess Park Manor’ and has been converted into luxury flats.

A model of Colney Hatch Lunatic Asylum

The building in 2017 (Photo By Philafrenzy – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=60289604)
More cheerfully, here are some examples of the Barnet Ventilator. You’ll note that it appears to have saved the life of the young Elizabeth Taylor – she became ill with pneumonia when filming ‘Cleopatra’ with Richard Burton in Pinewood Studios. She was rushed to Barnet Hospital, and was apparently intubated for three days. The machine was so new that the hospital had four of them made ready in case one of them broke down. Taylor recovered, and the rest of the filming was done in the sunnier climes of Italy and Spain.

And how about this? I had a desk identical to this when I was at primary school (Park Primary in Newham). One of us used to be the ink monitor, and their job was to keep the inkwells topped up. And this was in 1965 lest you think I’m the longest-lived Victorian in the world.

There are some interesting artifacts from both world wars. From WWI, there are examples of the medals that were sent to the bereaved parents or wives of soldiers who had been killed, along with a letter commemorating them.


From the Second World War, there are maps of the bomb damage around High Barnet. It seems like a lot of bombs for what was a pretty leafy suburb at the time, but there was a railway, and I imagine that no pilot wanted to return to Germany without dropping their full complement of explosives.

There were gas masks that you could put your baby into…

And ‘Micky Mouse’ and ‘Donald Duck’ gas masks for children. My mother remembers skipping off to Park school (yes, the same one that I went to) with her gas mask in a little bag. She also remembers being in the underground cloakroom with the teachers and all the other children while a bombing raid was going on, singing endless verses of ‘Ten Green Bottles’. How parents sent their children off to school every day, not knowing if they would ever see them again, and how the teachers held their nerve is worthy of some consideration, I think.

On a much more cheer note, this is a Victorian Overmantel – I’ve been looking for one to go above my fireplace for the past fifteen years, so if anyone notices one, give me a shout!

And finally, here are the costumes of the Pearly King and Queen of Barnet. I’ve written about Pearly Kings and Queens before (in particular Henry Croft, the first ‘Pearly King’ who is buried in St Pancras and Islington Cemetery). In Barnet, the Pearly King was Jack Hammond, with his wife and daughter being the Pearly Queen and Pearly Princess. The horseshoes on the costumes refer to Barnet Horse Fair (as described above), Each of the pearl buttons was sewed on by hand, and the Pearly King costume weighs in at 32lbs.

So, it was well worth jumping on the 263 bus to Barnet to see the Museum, and I was so impressed by the sheer amount of local history here, and by the sheer enthusiasm of the volunteers. There are events on regularly at the Museum, and if you’re a North Londoner I can heartily recommend a visit. We don’t have to go into central London to learn about our community and our history.
You can read all about Barnet Museum here.
Smallish museums can be riveting to visit. I too sat at desks like the one above. In primary school I used to help mix the ink powder and then filled the ink wells. The boys sitting behind me loved yanking the ends of my blonde pigtails and dipping them into their inkwells! We had started to use ball point pens by the time I went to high school.
Aaargh, little boys are the same the world over, aren’t they…
Local museums stuffed with all kinds of ephemera are probably my favourite to visit. I was brought up in Horsham and the museum was, and is, a wonderful example. Should you be in the area, pop in. And yes, I too learned to write at a desk like that, daily handwriting practise after lunchtime, carefully dipping my scratchy nib into the inkwell and making sure I didn’t leave blots. Ah, time…
I will, Anne, thank you for the heads-up!
We had desks not unlike that, and ink monitors, at my secondary school I’m the late 70s. Even though most people had moved onto cartridge pens by then and some younger teachers would tolerate certain approved felt tip pens (never biros).
I had a horror of the spongy lumps of balled up blotting paper people would immerse in the ink wells then throw round the classroom.
Oh I remember those spongy blobs! What a nightmare…
https://astreetnearyou.org/person/364616/Private-Albert-Arthur–Roads is identified by my on line colleague James Morley with links to https://livesofthefirstworldwar.iwm.org.uk/lifestory/3755518 . Francis, his granddaughter, made just ONE contribution to “Lives of the First World War ” website sometime between 2014 -2018 but it’s just as valuable as thousands by others. The “Dead Man’s Penny” was sent to every closest relative who could be identified. Francis wrote
” MY GRANFATHER’S WAR SERVICE
According to my father, Albert volunteered in 1916. He was found to be an excellent shot, and was asked to serve as a rifle instructor. He told the officers that he wanted to serve on the front line like all the other infantrymen. This annoyed them, and he was bullied. He took part in the later stages of the fighting on the Somme. He had long arms, and was ordered to go over the top and lob grenades into the enemy lines. He was soon shot, repatriated, and died of his wounds in early 1917. His hair had turned completely white. His wife Alice was left to bring up three children alone. “.
https://astreetnearyou.org/cemetery/39625/NEW-SOUTHGATE-CEMETERY lists all those who lost their lives in WWI and are buried or remembered here.
Goodness, such extraordinary stories, thank you for sharing this with us…
I love local museums – they have so many stories to tell. That school desk certainly brought some memories for me, as it did for you. It’s just like the ones we had at our primary school, which was (and still is) about five miles from Barnet. It wouldn’t surprise me if our desks were the original ones from when the school opened in 1901! I was also interested to read about your mum being evacuated from East London – my mum remembered the number of pupils at her school in Truro doubling during the war, following the arrival of children from a school in West Ham.
My Mum who had a childhood in Liverpool during WW2, used to tell me of her terror of gas masks, particularly the one that took the whole baby into it – namely her baby sister. I’ve often wondered what it could have looked like.
It is terrifying isn’t it, like an aquarium for a baby. My Mum said she always hated the smell of the mask.