Henry Palmer
Henry Palmer (1840–1889),
as depicted on his tombstone
Before the days of the welfare state, when there was little community care available outside the workhouse, working men could insure against the hazards of sickness and death by joining friendly societies – voluntary associations that promoted self-help. Among these were the Loyal Ancient Independent Order of Oddfellows, the Ancient Order of Foresters, the Ancient Order of Druids and the Royal Antediluvian Order of Buffaloes.
Buried in St Pancras & Islington Cemetery is someone who was active in several of these convivial groups – Henry Palmer, 'whose urbanity and philanthropy was commensurate with his stature', as a local paper remarked.
From the epitaph and the unusual image of him on his tombstone, it might be thought that he was a well-heeled local dignitary. In fact he 'cooked the "vittals" in the Lump' as an onlooker at his funeral put it – that is, he was the cook at St Pancras Workhouse, where for fourteen years 'he took the greatest pleasure and pride in his work, and his cooking apparatus was always kept scrupulously clean'.
On the evening of 28 February 1889 he went out 'on some private business' – to church according to another report. Shortly after 10 p.m. he rang the housekeeper's bell of the Vestry Hall. The housekeeper's son answered it, and 'seeing the remains of blood about the deceased's face, said to him, "Why, whatever is the matter?" As he advanced, he said, "I have had a fall as I came along." He had hardly uttered these words before he threw up his arms, and fell on to the stone paving.' By the time the workhouse doctors arrived 'life was extinct'.
At the inquest, the cause of death was stated as apoplexy – 'as might have been expected from a man of such full habit'. He was forty-nine.
Over 1,000 people were estimated to have attended his funeral on 6 March. 'The cortège . . . onsisted of an open funeral car, drawn by four horses with feathers and velvets, three mourning and several private carriages . . . A contingent of 400 juvenile Foresters followed in the rear . . . The bands of the Y and S divisions of Police were present, and played the Dead March and other suitable selections along the route . . . The impressiveness of the service was increased by the singing of the juvenile Foresters, whose sweet, fresh voices were in full accord with the mournful yet dignified words of the hymns selected.'
The friendly societies had done Henry Palmer proud. But his send-off was also a good advertisement for them and their cause.
As the beautiful strains of the Vesper Hymn resounded through the air, all were reminded that the unsparing hand of Death cuts down even the most useful and popular amongst us . . . but the great respect that was paid him as his remains were borne to their last resting place, must tend to popularise Forestry, Oddfellowship, and Buffaloism.
Many of those who were spectators of the procession have probably scorned the idea of making provision for the unknown time of sickness, and this reminder must have a very salutary effect. We have some very excellent societies . . . and the more their ranks are strengthened the greater will be the decline in pauperism.
Victorian values, you might say.
St Pancras Guardian and Camden and Kentish Towns Reporter, 2 and 9 March 1889
P. H. J. H. Gosden, Self-Help: Voluntary Associations in Nineteenth-Century Britain (London: B. T. Batsford, 1973)