by Nadia Cohen
In the end it had taken Linder a total of thirteen years to successfully decode Beatrix’s journals, and when he showed the finished product to Warnes they were staggered and immediately made him an offer to publish it all. His work was collated and printed in 1966 as The Journal of Beatrix Potter. Up to that point, critics had mostly dismissed Beatrix as a whimsical children’s author, interested in little besides bunny rabbits. The publication of the journals showed her as so much more.
Thanks to Linder we now know she was inquisitive, critical and fiercely intelligent with a great gift for language from an early age. She also had a sharp sense of humour and a keen eye for observing the foibles of Victorian society. The consensus among experts is that, were it not for Linder’s work revealing those thousands of pages worth of information, Beatrix would be much less well known today.
Wiltshire added: ‘Since 1966 over 100 books have been written about Beatrix, and they’ve all either drawn on information from the archive, the Journal, or the other two books about Beatrix, that Leslie and Enid wrote in 1955 and 1970. If he hadn’t spent all this time translating, those pages would have remained in a cupboard, forgotten.’
Linder did not stop there however, he spent the rest of his life collecting anything do with Beatrix that he could lay his hands on, and by the time he died in 1972 he had filled two gigantic safes, both the size of large rooms, with artwork, papers and memorabilia. It was thought to be the largest collection of its kind and he left it all in his will to the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, where it remains as the Linder Bequest, Archive and Collection.
Just five weeks after writing the letter to Caroline that started Linder’s trail, Beatrix was gone. On her deathbed she made it clear that she had no regrets about her life, and even when she knew she had only days left to live she was calm and made no fuss. It is telling that the very last letter Beatrix wrote, when she was almost too weak and shaky to hold a pen, was to one of her shepherds, Joe Moscrop, who had become a close and loyal friend over the sixteen years he had been working for her: ‘Still some strength in me,’ she told him. ‘I write a line to shake you by the hand, our friendship has been entirely pleasant. I am very ill with bronchitis. With best wishes for the New Year.’
Sadly Beatrix did not survive to welcome that New Year in. She died of pneumonia and heart disease, peacefully in her bed on 22 December 1943, at the age of 77. She was in her old four-poster bed at Hill Top, gazing out across the Lakeland hills and fells in the distance, with William at her bedside.
When she died, eighteen months ahead of William, by all accounts Beatrix was content, fulfilled and wholly convinced of her own worth. She had predicted to one of her cousins that her children’s stories would ‘one day be as famous and as much read’ as Hans Christian Andersen’s, and she was right. The lasting legacy Beatrix left behind cannot be underestimated.
Chapter Twenty-One
You can now read The Tale of Peter Rabbit in Esperanto, Japanese or any of the other forty-four languages that Beatrix’s best loved story has been translated into so far. Almost all her stories have since been retold through countless songs, animated cartoons, ballets and scores of feature films and television programmes. Many of these retellings do not just focus on the much-loved characters that Beatrix created, but also the creator herself who has become cherished as an enduring national treasure. Her name has become shorthand for the very essence of a quintessentially traditional Englishness. Decades after her death Beatrix has become something of a tourist industry in her own right, particularly in the Lake District where every year millions of visitors make the pilgrimage from every corner of the globe to walk in her famous footsteps.
Beatrix left in her wake an enduring literacy legacy that few authors have ever equalled, but historians including archivist Liz Hunter McFarlane say Britain owes Beatrix a far greater debt for her part in creating The National Trust: ‘It’s a charity which not only owns the largest collection of published art work in the world, but also owns the 4000 acres of rural farmland Beatrix bequeathed to the nation after her death. Her vast legacy covers some of the most beautiful countryside, including fourteen farms in the Lake District.’
Many believe that the National Trust as we know it today, a phenomenally successful conservation charity thought to have financial reserves worth in excess of £1 billion, would not exist were it not for Beatrix’s generous support in the early days. According to accounts revealed in 2017, the charity boasted an investment pool of £1.008 billion, receiving an income of £522 million, which included £51 million left in wills and £178 million in membership fees. The charity spent £540 million in the same twelve months, with a dozen key staff earning six-figure salaries. The organisation, which now boasts over 5 million members, looks after 248,000 hectares of land, around half of which is designated for nature in some way and it has over 1,500 tenanted farms. It also runs 39 pubs and inns, and has over 61,000 volunteers who give more than 4.6 million hours of their time in over 500 roles.
Chairman Tim Parker said people join the National Trust craving peace from an increasingly busy world: ‘That suggests the country’s love affair with its heritage and great outdoors has never been stronger. In the busy, noisy world we now live in perhaps it’s never been more important to escape. A visit to a trust property can be a real tonic – you get to see real beauty, not virtual beauty.’
The National Trust continues to protect the 4,000 acres of land Beatrix once owned across the Lake District. As well as becoming a protected National Park, much of the land Beatrix used her earnings to save now forms the largest UNESCO World Heritage Site in Britain, meaning it will always benefit from international help to fight threats faced by climate change, development pressures, changing agricultural practices and diseases, and tourism. When the Lake District was awarded World Heritage status in July 2017, joining thirty-three other famous sites including the likes of the Grand Canyon, the Taj Mahal and Machu Picchu, the committee praised not only the natural beauty of the area but also its traditional farming practices – including traditions based on local Herdwick sheep. UNESCO also noted the inspiration that the Lake District had provided to artists and writers. According to the UN agency, the global heritage status would: ‘Correct an imbalance between natural values and the cultural values of farming practices.’
The 885-square mile park had been trying to obtain UNESCO status since 1986, and Lord Clark of Windermere, chairman of the Lake District National Park Partnership which put together the bid, supported by The National Trust, the RSPB, the Lake District national park authority and Cumbria Wildlife Trust, described the decision as ‘momentous’. Since then World Heritage Watch, a global non-governmental organisation that advises UNESCO, has passed a further resolution to give extra protection to a one mile square of land once owned by Beatrix north of Coniston Water. World Heritage Watch urged UNESCO to take action to prevent further damage to the two tracks near High Tilberthwaite farm, which Beatrix bought in 1929 and was later acquired by the National Trust in her will. Guidebook author Alfred Wainwright described that particular spot as ‘The loveliest in Lakeland.’
Campaigners from World Heritage Watch feared that particular patch of land was being ruined by traffic, particularly 4x4 vehicles and motorbikes which had churned up the soil on farm tracks, exposing the bedrock beneath and leaving them impassable to farm traffic.
WHW chairman Stephan Dömpke said:
The disturbance and destruction unquestionably caused by 4x4 vehicles is certainly not in conformity with the values which the Lake District stands for: serenity, harmony, tranquillity, nature conservation and traditional rural ways of life. The purpose of world heritage site status is the protection and conservation of sites for which an outstanding universal value (OUV) has been defined.
No doubt Beatrix would have backed their campaign, just as she would have been equally horrified by a decision in 2018, following a hard fought seven-year battle, to allow a zip wire to be strung across the Honister
Pass. The ravine in the wildest heart of the area has long been considered to be an area so exquisitely beautiful that Canon Rawnsley himself travelled to London to battle in Parliament against plans for a railway line to be built through it in the 1880s. At the time Rawnsley successfully argued that the threatened development would: ‘Damage irretrievably the health, rest and pleasure of their fellow countrymen, in order that they may put a few more shillings into their private pockets.’
Beatrix would not be happy to learn that only five of the fourteen farms that she bequeathed to the National Trust survived intact. Most of them have been broken up, to the fury of those who remember her express wishes to have them preserved forever. Johnny Birkett, who inherited the tenancy of High Yewdale Farm from his father Robert, was horrified when the National Trust announced it would be breaking up the farm’s 188 hectares in 2005 when he was due to retire. Johnny remembered how when he was a child Beatrix would visit the farm once a month, dressed in her clogs and shawl, for a chat with his father. ‘Beatrix Potter will be turning in her grave,’ he said. ‘I’ve always given the National Trust top marks for trying to save farms, but now they’re just going against what they’re meant to be about. It’s a disgrace. This is one of the best farms in the Lake District and we’ve looked after it as if it was our own. Now they’ve just come along and said, “That’s it”.’
At the time Birkett owned a flock of 700 Herdwick sheep descended from the herd owned by Beatrix herself, and he slammed the shock decision made by charity workers who he described as: ‘College boys who’ve never gathered any sheep off a fell.’ He added: ‘If they split it up the land will go back to rough moorland. It’s heart breaking.’
John Darlington, the National Trust’s area manager, argued that Beatrix would have understood the controversial decisions to break up her former farms: ‘Undoubtedly it’s been a difficult decision, but we’ve looked at the figures and we have no alternative. I believe that she would have seen this as necessary if we are to retain her heritage. She wasn’t the type to want things preserved in aspic.’
When Beatrix died her estate would have been worth around £5,000, but in terms of a modern-day equivalent, financial experts suggest her legacy matches that of multi-millionaire Harry Potter author JK Rowling whose phenomenal earnings come from so much more than simply the original stories she wrote about a schoolboy wizard. ‘Her worth is on a par with a JK Rowling due to her business savvy,’ explained National Trust archivist Liz Hunter McFarlane.
You have to remember she was the first woman to understand the value of merchandising and licensing her characters. Now it is a common occurrence on a global scale, but it never really existed like this in Britain before Beatrix and Peter Rabbit.
She took the unusual step of trademarking all her characters, the format of the books and her signature, and although she was unable to trademark her actual name, it meant nobody could reproduce the Little Books.
It was always a great surprise to her throughout her entire life that the books were so popular, but she understood that she had a great responsibility to use her profits as a means to protect the place she loved so much.
American academic Linda Lear agreed that Beatrix was a cunning businesswoman, the likes of which had not been seen in British boardrooms before: ‘She was the first writer for children to see the potential market in merchandise ‘spin offs’ from literature to the toy market, and children’s home products.’
Hunter MacFarlane added:
Beatrix was among the first authors to ever really understand that the new demand for merchandise featuring her beloved characters could provide an additional source of funds. She agreed to authorise a vast range of products, from china and colouring books, to jigsaws and slippers.
Some of my own earliest memories are of eating porridge from my Peter Rabbit porringer and reading the words as they became uncovered. So many people have nostalgic feelings like this about the little books and their characters.
Beatrix also insisted on keeping a very close eye on the quality of all the items produced in her name, and ensured she had the final say when it came to granting licences. Unusually for a woman of her time she had a very strong sense of how her brand should be portrayed and paid particularly close attention to detail when conducting negotiations – often in situations where everyone else in the room was a man.
Among other historical experts, Hunter McFarlane also maintains that modern-day feminists owe Beatrix credit too:
Beatrix first visited the Lake District on a family holiday when she was just sixteen and as soon as she came of age at 21, and was old enough to buy property, she bought herself a rural bolthole. At the time it was highly unusual for unmarried women to be in a position to buy houses without the help of a man, but Beatrix was already a woman of independent means, and although it was rare, she certainly was among the first females to leave the male dominated establishment horrified by her independence.
In this and many other ways Beatrix was a feminist trailblazer.
Moving alone to the other end of the country and becoming a landlady many times over meant Beatrix was extremely influential and held great power which, again, was almost unheard of for a single woman at that time.
Beatrix’s unconventional love life was another thing that made her stand out from other women of her generation. At the time women of her social class were bred to not expect much from life beyond attracting a suitable husband. The idea did not seem to appeal to Beatrix in the slightest; the men she met bored her to tears, and all she wanted was to use her creativity to generate income which was a means to escape the rigid social structures she found so stifling.
Although she firmly believed in gender equality, Beatrix had not really supported the suffrage campaign when she lived in London. The notorious campaign to win Votes for Women had been at its height when she was young, but it had largely passed her by. Once she moved to the Lake District however, she did a great deal to improve the lives of women. Until that point in her life Beatrix had only really known pampered ladies who wanted for nothing, but on the farms she experienced real poverty and the dangers of poor sanitation for the first time, and it moved her to act.
She made sure women were given baths to wash their children in, access to nursing care, and of course she famously paid the wives for their husband’s labour. Beatrix was astounded when the Government announced the idea of making women work on farms and in factories during the First World War – not because she objected to the policy, but because it was something she and the women in rural areas had been doing for years: ‘I am perfectly ready to employ the right sort of woman,’ she said.
Roger Glossop, the co-founder of The World Of Beatrix Potter attraction at Bowness-on-Windermere in the Lake District, agreed: ‘Beatrix Potter was an amazing woman for her time. I’d say she was instrumental in the start of women’s rights in this country. She came from this stultifying family and broke out to live this other life, buying land, which she ultimately gave to the nation. She was a completely independent female.’
Glossop, a former West End theatre set designer, and his wife Charlotte set up the popular tourist attraction to recreate Beatrix’s stories in a 3D setting. For the 150th anniversary of Beatrix’s birth in 2016 Roger persuaded his old friend, the award-winning playwright Alan Ayckbourn, to write the lyrics for a new musical, Where Is Peter Rabbit? to be staged at their theatre: ‘Alan’s plays are similar to Beatrix’s writing,’ Glossop explained. ‘They’re terribly funny, but there’s always this underlying difficulty with human relationships. And in Beatrix’s stories the animals have this other part of them, this need to survive. I told Alan at the start, “It’s not just about the Flopsy Bunnies, there’s a dark side to this.”’
As part of the anniversary celebrations the Beatrix Potter Gallery in Hawkshead displayed the pelt of the real Benjamin Bunny, a scrap of fur and ears which may have alarmed some young fans but was intended to show how pragmatic she had really been. Beatrix had ski
nned her former pet herself so she could draw his skeleton. General manager John Moffat explained: ‘We try to get people to realise there’s more to her than the rabbit in the blue jacket. She wouldn’t let sentimentality get in the way of anything – a very practical woman.’
However, Beatrix has been slammed for many literary misdemeanours, including promoting corporal punishment in the pages of her books. Writing in The Telegraph newspaper in 2013, Jane Shilling said: ‘It wasn’t life, but literature, that was the really bad influence. Growing up, my favourite reading matter was full of smacking. The Tales of Beatrix Potter ring to the sound of it: Tom Kitten and his sisters Mittens and Moppet are vigorously smacked by their harassed single mother, Mrs Tabitha Twitchit, for taking off their clothes when she is expecting visitors.’
But there is far more praise than damnation, and Beatrix continues to be honoured with high accolades to this day. In 2017, The Art of Beatrix Potter: Sketches, Paintings, and Illustrations by Emily Zach was published after a San Francisco-based publisher, Chronicle Books, decided to celebrate Beatrix with a collection that showed: ‘She was far more than a 19th-century weekend painter. She was an artist of astonishing range.’
She even had an asteroid named after her. The asteroid 13975 Beatrixpotter was discovered by Belgian astronomer Eric Elst in 1992 but renamed in her memory in 2017.