Author Archive

William Edward Armytage Axon

Posted on: February 9th, 2026 by Alan Wareham

A life against the odds

William Edward Armytage Axon, born 13th of January 1846, died 27th of December 1913, has been described as the busiest man in Manchester. He was a key figure in Victorian Manchester‘s intellectual life and an active member of The Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society.

His papers, held in the John Rylands library, contain over 6600 letters covering a wide variety of subjects and include correspondence from major Victorian figures such as Walter Bagehot, Millicent Garrett Fawcett and CP Scott. It is said that he wrote or contributed to over 1000 books, articles and other publications.

His life story is surprising and inspirational in the sense that he achieved so much from an extremely disadvantaged start. Those achievements were against the odds, especially in the stratified Victorian society into which he was born.

He was the illegitimate child of Edward Armytage, a clothing manufacturer and a 15-year-old servant girl, Lydia Whitehead, in his employment. The young William was sent to foster parents in Manchester where he lived in poverty and was succumbing to the childhood illnesses that killed many a child in the city at that time. Fortunately for him and Manchester, his neighbours, the Axon family, took pity on him and adopted him into their own home. Although ill health prevented him from having a formal education, he was supported to learn by the daughters of the Axon family and via Sunday school, then the public libraries.

This informal education revealed that he had the ability to absorb huge amounts of information and take an interest in vast range of topics. In this way, this illegitimate child, born into poverty, who in most circumstances at the time would probably not have made it through to adulthood, became a well-known figure in Manchester literary life.

Axon worked as a librarian for Manchester libraries and for 30 years was on the literary staff of the Manchester Guardian, the forerunner of today’s Guardian newspaper. He was a vigorous public letter writer on all sorts of local and national issues. For example, he became involved in the debates around the historical subject matter of the murals being painted for Manchester town hall by Ford Maddox Brown. He wrote books and articles on a wide range of topics including literature, dialect, folklore, and history.

One of the books that he wrote, which gives an interesting insight into his eclectic mind, is The Mechanics Friend – collection of receipts and practical suggestions, published in 1875. This is, in effect, a DIY manual covering topics as diverse as glues, lacquers and locomotives. In it, Axon, who was usually more of a literary than practical man,  collected a huge amount of information to enable the Victorian DIY enthusiast to carry out many household tasks, including cutting a hinge, and, more esoterically, making a raft to rescue someone trapped on ice!

He noted prominently on the frontispiece of the book that he was a member of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society, which perhaps indicates a belief that membership gave him authority on practical and scientific matters. Such an endorsement of the Society confirms that it was a well-known and respected institution in Victorian Manchester.

As well as being a prolific author, Axon was a social campaigner.  He was active in campaigns to open up public libraries in Manchester and Salford on Sundays. The idea of this was to allow working class people in the cities to have access to books and knowledge on Sundays, the only day they got off work. The public libraries had educated Axon, and he was keen to extend the opportunity to others from poor backgrounds.

He was also a leading light in the vegetarian movement, holding senior positions in the Vegetarian Society. That movement can trace its roots back to Manchester and Salford and Axon was a passionate early advocate for it. Similarly, he campaigned against tobacco and alcohol, being a member of the anti-tobacco and temperance leagues. These would not necessarily have been universally popular in a Victorian city like Manchester when concern about animal welfare was less common than it is today and tobacco, like a drink, would have been seen as one of the few outlets of pleasure for working people. However, Axon was an extremely principled man and worked throughout his life for various causes without regard to popularity. In addition to writing extensively on the subject, he went as far as to open up his own vegetarian bed and breakfast accommodation in Southport.

He was self-taught in most things and his sponge-like mind allowed him to learn numerous languages which also gave him access to yet further knowledge from other countries and cultures. His involvement in African American campaigns for equality resulted in him being awarded an honorary degree by Wilberforce University in the USA.

Notwithstanding his lack of formal education, his achievements propelled him into the Manchester and national intellectual establishment. He appears in a long list of learned and other societies including Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, President of the Lancashire and Cheshire Antiquaries, the English Dialect Society and, of course, the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society. It is remarkable that in an era when most members of these institutions would have been drawn from the educated upper and middle classes, the illegitimate boy raised in poverty was invited to join. Today the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society is open to anyone, but in Axon’s time it, like others, required members to be elected. It is a tribute to his lifelong activity and prominence in numerous fields that he was elected to so many positions.

His contributions to the intellectual life of the city were eventually recognised by the University of Manchester, which conferred on him the honorary degree of Master of Arts shortly before his death in 1913. The University officials attended his home to confer the honour on him while he was on his sickbed, reflecting the esteem in which he was held.

Leaving aside his intellectual achievements and recognition by the establishment, it is indicative of the man that he kept in contact with his birth mother and her family, visiting them regularly. It is evident that he never forgot his roots.

For the illegitimate son of a 15-year-old servant girl, born into poverty and with no formal education, this member of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society battled against the odds to achieve recognition, advocating for many causes and becoming a thought leader in the City. A Lit and Phil member to be proud of.

Lit&Phil Member – Andrew Welch

Rewilding the Lowlands: Lessons from Knepp and Beyond

Posted on: January 23rd, 2026 by Alan Wareham

How can rewilding take root in a landscape as densely populated, fragmented, and historically cultivated as lowland Britain? In this talk, Charlie Burrell explored that question through the remarkable story of the Knepp Wildland Project in West Sussex – a pioneering experiment in letting nature lead.

Knepp began over twenty years ago as a bold gamble: to step back from intensive agriculture and allow natural processes to shape the land. The result has been a flourishing mosaic of habitats – scrub, wood pasture, wetland and meadow – alive with returning species from turtle doves to purple emperors and nightingales. But Knepp is also part of a wider movement. Across Britain and Europe, rewilding is challenging assumptions about conservation, land use, and the relationship between people and nature.

Charlie used Knepp as a model to examine the spectrum of rewilding – from large-scale wilderness restoration to smaller, community-led and agricultural projects. Drawing on historical land use, he discussed how the landscapes of the past can inform the ecological and social choices of the future.

The talk also explored the powerful forces now driving the rewilding movement – from climate change and biodiversity loss to a growing recognition that nature recovery can deliver real economic and social benefits. Charlie highlighted the emerging role of philanthropy, particularly through the Endangered Landscapes and Seascapes Programme of the Cambridge Conservation Initiative, which is helping to finance major restoration projects across Europe.

Finally, he turned to one of the most exciting frontiers in this field: how Nature-Based Solutions can be valued and monetised to create sustainable funding streams for nature. Using Nattergal, a company he chairs, as a case study, Charlie showed how private capital and ecological ambition can align to restore degraded landscapes, capture carbon, and revive biodiversity.

This video recorded an inspiring evening charting the next chapter in Britain’s evolving relationship with the wild.

Interview with Professor Angie Hobbs

Posted on: January 23rd, 2026 by Alan Wareham

Q. When did philosophy first get its hooks into you, and was there a particular moment, teacher, or book that made you think, “Yes, this is for me”?

A. Yes – for Latin A Level, I studied Lucretius De Rerum Natura (On the Nature of Things) about Epicurus’ philosophy, and I became hooked by the freewill and determinism debate (for the record, I think they are compatible).  Then, studying Classics at University, and trying to decide whether to specialise in philosophy or literature in my final year, I discovered Plato’s Symposium, a brilliant, vibrant, witty and moving dialogue in which a rich array of characters discuss the nature of erotic love, and I realised I didn’t have to choose!  Plato is a great literary artist as well as a great philosopher.

Q. Of all the thinkers you could have devoted your career to, why Plato? Was it his ideas, his style, the sheer ambition of his project, or something more personal that drew you in and kept you there?

A. Well, in addition to his literary artistry, I love the fact that he never speaks in his own voice – he never tells us exactly what he thinks but compels us to think and do philosophy for ourselves.  He draws us into the conversation.  I also completely agree with him (following his mentor, the historic Socrates) that the two fundamental ethical questions are ‘How should I live?’ and ‘what sort of person should I be?’  It is an agent-centred approach (as opposed to the act-centred approaches of the duty-based ethics of Kant or the consequences-based ethics of Bentham and Mill), and invites us to consider the whole person, living a whole life.  It invites us to consider the shape and structure and narrative of a person’s life – and of course the diverse characters in the dialogues present models to emulate and avoid.

Q. Manchester has a strong identity shaped by industry, dissent, and a certain independence of mind. Do you think Plato would have felt at home in a city like this, and if so, what do you imagine he’d be most intrigued by?

A. I think Plato would greatly have approved of Manchester’s independent and radical spirit!  He would also very much have appreciated its commitment to books, life-long learning and ideas.  And the philosopher who argued in the Republic that there should be Philosopher-Queens as well as Philosopher-Kings would I think have been very pleased by the bronze sculpture of the suffragette leader Emmeline Pankhurst in St Peter’s Square, and the Pankhurst Meeting Circle that surrounds it.

Q. The Lit & Phil was founded on the belief that learning should be shared beyond universities and elites. How important is that ideal to you personally, and does it connect with anything in Plato’s own approach to teaching and dialogue?

A. It’s hugely important to me, and the reason why I was created the world’s first (as far as I know) Professor of the Public Understanding of Philosophy – for many years I have combined academic writing and teaching with public talks and media work in television, radio and podcasts and so on, and, increasingly, also with policy and consultancy work, for example with the NHS, the Health Research Authority, the Cabinet Office and other branches of the Civil Service and the World Economic Forum.  My aim is not just to expound the views of different philosophers, but to see how philosophical arguments, concepts and methods might fruitfully be applied to current challenges.   I am definitely inspired by Plato in this endeavour: he wanted his dialogues to reach as wide an audience as possible, and he set up his Academy in Athens not just to train scholars such as Aristotle, but also political leaders and policy advisers.  And in addition to lectures to these elite groups, he also gave public lectures (which, very unusually for the time, women could also attend).

Q. How important is it, given the amount of time and impact of social media and fake news, that young people learn how to think critically, and how can Philosophy help with this?

A. I think it is absolutely vital – for their individual psychological and physical wellbeing, and also for communal issues such as the protection of democracy, combatting pandemics and dealing with climate change.  Many subjects can help young people think critically and assess the veracity of verbal and visual sources and the validity of arguments, but philosophy is exceptionally well-equipped to do this.  I would love social media platforms to be subject to publishing editorial controls, but that seems a long way off, so we must give young people the tools to see through the smoke-and-mirrors of the snake oil merchants trying to deceive, divide and manipulate them.  Another point in philosophy’s favour is that  through its use of imaginary scenarios, counter-factuals and so on, it can also foster creative as well as analytic skills, creativity that the twenty-first century very clearly needs.

Q. Away from lecture theatres and libraries, what does Angie Hobbs enjoy? Are there interests, hobbies, or even guilty pleasures that might surprise people who only know you as a Plato scholar, and do any of them feed back into how you think about philosophy?

A. I have many interests!  Music, the theatre, travelling, nature in both its wild and gardened forms, walking, swimming and yoga … and many sports, especially cricket!  I love Test Match Special and one of my happiest days was being interviewed by Jonathan Agnew in View from the Boundary.  And I have an extensive knowledge of herbs (and grow a wide variety), and brew many of my own concoctions for minor ailments (though I use standard medicine too).

Q. Because you spend your life thinking carefully and philosophically, how easy do you find it to make snap decisions in everyday life, or do you find yourself mentally arguing both sides first?

A. I’m pretty decisive in terms of everyday and aesthetic decisions – I usually choose pretty quickly if I am buying clothes or selecting a paint colour.  I do try to think difficult ethical issues through carefully in a general way, in the hope that when I am called upon to make a quick decision in a crisis or personal situation, I will have done a fair bit of the thinking in advance and will be able to apply the general principles to the particular circumstances.  I find that I am very often applying an updated version of Plato’s ethics and (small ‘p’) politics of flourishing.

Thank you to Professor Angie Hobbs for taking the time to answer our questions.

Our event – Why Plato Matters Now – takes place at the RNCM in Manchester on Wednesday 11 March.

Alan Turing

Posted on: January 9th, 2026 by Alan Wareham

Alan Turing was a visionary mathematician, scientist and codebreaker whose key role in deciphering the Enigma code during World War II reached a wide audience in the acclaimed 2014 film ‘The Imitation Game’. However, his work in the post-war years in Manchester also impacted biology and chemistry, as well as laying the groundwork for the development of the modern computer and the concept of Artificial Intelligence.

Photograph portrait of Alan Turing, taken on 29 March 1951.

Early Life and Background

Born on June 23, 1912, in Maida Vale, London, Alan Turing was the second child of Julius and Ethel Turing. His father was a civil servant in the Indian Civil Service, whilst his mother came from a family of engineers. His family was upper-middle-class, and Alan and his brother both attended boarding school at Sherborne in Dorset, as their parents lived overseas. His school years had a profound and complex effect on Turing as he struggled with the school’s classical curriculum and lack of support for his passion for science and mathematics. However, he pursued advanced topics on his own and showed remarkable intellectual independence. During his time at Sherborne, he formed a close friendship with fellow student Christopher Morcom – Morcom’s death at 18 years old from tuberculosis had a significant impact on Turing and led to his lifelong fascination with the mind and consciousness. Turing began to explore the idea that the mind could be mechanised, a theme that would later become central to his work in artificial intelligence.

After leaving school, Turing followed his passion and pursued a degree in Mathematics at King’s College, Cambridge (1931-34) achieving First Class Honours. His primary interest was in pure mathematics, with a strong focus on logic, quantum mechanics, and probability theory. In 1935 he was elected a fellow of King’s College for his work in probability theory. The following year Turing published a seminal mathematics paper, ‘On Computable Numbers, with an Application to the Entscheidungs Problem, which came to be seen as a theoretical basis for today’s computers. It included a definition of the “universal machine”, a computer which held its programme on tape, laying the theoretical foundation for modern computers. Turing continued his studies, completing his PhD in Mathematical Logic at Princeton University in USA under the mathematician Alonzo Church. In 1938 he returned to England and began working for the Government Code and Cypher School at Bletchley Park alongside his academic work and lecturing at Cambridge, before joining Bletchley full time following the outbreak of the war.

His wartime efforts at Bletchley Park, particularly in developing the Bombe machine to decrypt German Enigma cipher codes, significantly contributed to the Allied victory. It has been suggested that his codebreaking work shortened the war by three to four years, saving in excess of 20 million lives.

Key Contributions and Achievements in Manchester

The Ferranti Mark 1 and Programming Innovations

After the war, Turing was based at the National Physical Laboratory where he designed the Automatic Computing Engine (ACE – a computer which filled an entire room) and subsequently moved to Manchester University’s Computing Machine Laboratory in 1948, where he helped with the development of the Small Scale Experimental Machine (also known as ‘Baby’) which was the world’s first stored programme computer.

At the University of Manchester, Turing collaborated with engineers like Frederic C. Williams and Tom Kilburn and their efforts culminated in the development of the Manchester Mark 1. At this point, the UK Government Chief Scientist provided a substantial grant to local firm Ferranti and the computer was developed into Ferranti Mark 1 – the first commercially available general-purpose computer.

Manchester University SSEM ‘Baby’ replica on display at the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester.

Advancements in Artificial Intelligence and Morphogenesis

Turing’s work in Manchester also included his pioneering work in artificial intelligence (AI). He proposed the concept of machine learning and introduced the “Turing Test” to assess a machine’s ability to exhibit intelligent behaviour indistinguishable from that of a human. The Turing Test is still used today, and while no AI has definitively passed the test, it is still a valuable framework for evaluating AI’s ability to mimic human conversation and is often used as a benchmark in AI research.

Additionally, Turing delved into mathematical biology, formulating reaction-diffusion models to explain patterns in nature, such as the arrangement of leaves and the stripes on animals, a field now known as morphogenesis. Turing’s groundbreaking 1952 paper, “The Chemical Basis of Morphogenesis,” proposed that patterns in biological organisms could be explained by the interaction of two chemicals, which he termed morphogens. These morphogens react and diffuse through space at different rates, forming stable patterns. This idea became known as the reaction-diffusion model. Turing’s equations showed how even a homogeneous collection of cells could spontaneously develop spatial patterns through small instabilities in concentration, providing a plausible mechanism for natural pattern formation.

A Quirky Mind in a Rigorous World

Geniuses are often described as eccentric, and Turing’s eccentric personality often became apparent in his daily habits. At Bletchley Park, he famously chained his tea mug to a radiator to prevent it from being stolen. He was also an exceptional long-distance runner and would often be seen jogging between meetings. Turing once clocked marathon times close to Olympic standard and even attempted to qualify for the 1948 British Olympic team.

Turing’s Personal Life and Persecution

Despite his groundbreaking achievements, Turing faced immense personal struggles due to his homosexuality, which was illegal in the UK at the time. In 1952, he was prosecuted for “gross indecency” after admitting to a consensual relationship with another man. Rather than serve a prison sentence, Turing chose chemical castration through hormone therapy, which caused severe physical and psychological side effects. His conviction led to the loss of his security clearance, barring him from further cryptographic work. Although he continued his research at Manchester, the stigma and surveillance he suffered had a significant impact upon him. On June 7, 1954, Turing was found dead at his home in Wilmslow from cyanide poisoning in an apparent suicide. Decades later, in 2009, he received a posthumous government apology, and, in 2013, a royal pardon. In 2017, the “Alan Turing Law” was enacted to pardon others similarly convicted, finally recognising the enormous injustice he and others had endured.

Impact on Manchester and Beyond

Turing’s work in Manchester had profound implications both locally and globally. The Ferranti Mark 1 not only sealed Manchester’s status as a hub for computer research but also laid the foundation for the UK’s computing industry. Turing’s research in AI and morphogenesis opened new avenues in computer science and biology, influencing generations of scientists. His legacy is commemorated in Manchester through landmarks like the Alan Turing Building at the University of Manchester and the Alan Turing Memorial in Sackville Gardens. In 2021, Turing’s contributions were nationally recognised when he was featured on the UK’s £50 banknote.

Legacy and Inspiration

Alan Turing’s time in Manchester, which is usually overshadowed by his achievements at Bletchley Park, was nevertheless a period of remarkable innovation that significantly advanced the fields of computing, artificial intelligence, and morphogenesis. His work not only transformed Manchester into a centre for technological development but also left lasting marks on the global scientific community.

As a member of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society in the early 1950s, Turing embodied the organisation’s commitment to intellectual curiosity and interdisciplinary exploration.

 

Lit&Phil Member – Jon Sime

The Implications of Low Fertility Rates

Posted on: December 22nd, 2025 by Alan Wareham

The fertility rate in the UK – that is the average number of children born to a woman over her life – has fallen to under 1.5. This is well below the level at which the population would remain roughly constant in the absence of substantial net immigration. In the absence of such large net flows of people into the country the population will start to decline and continue to do so unless the fertility rate rises to a little over two. Some people believe that such a state of affairs poses serious economic and social problems. Many believe that the decline in fertility rates to, or in some cases well below, the UK level in many rich countries poses a substantial risk to the European way of life.

Part of the perceived risk is that economic growth will fall and could become negative. There is also believed to be a rising problem of care for the relatively elderly.

In this talk Professor David Miles CBE considers the scale of the risk, the factors behind the decline in fertility and whether policies to substantially boost fertility are either likely to succeed or if they are even ethical. He also considers the case for continued large scale migration to offset the effects of a low fertility rate.

The economic and social case that sustained low fertility rates poses severe problems is very far from obvious and he explored some of its underpinnings. The disadvantages of ever-growing populations are highly relevant to whether one views low fertility rates as a curse or a blessing. He used evidence from the past and speculated on how different patterns of fertility and net migration will affect the country over the next several decades.

Professor David Miles CBE also considered philosophical issues connected with population size and whether current generations have obligations to maintain populations.

The Fall and Rise of Local Journalism

Posted on: December 22nd, 2025 by Alan Wareham

Local journalism used to be a thriving and highly profitable industry – so much so that the Manchester Evening News used to subsidise the losses on its stablemate, the Manchester Guardian. But the 21st century has been devastating for local newspapers in the UK as their main revenue model has disappeared and thousands of journalists have been laid off. Poorer and smaller communities have become ‘news deserts’ – places where no meaningful journalism is being done. And large city newspapers have shed dozens of their reporters and editors, reduced to a shell of their former selves. As a result, many people are much less knowledgeable about what is happening in their communities, and sources of local power – including the police, the council and local companies – are not held to account. There is also a strong argument that people reading much more national – as opposed to local – media has contributed to the polarisation we see in British politics. Can local journalism in the UK be rebuilt?

SimpsonHaugh: A Manchester Story

Posted on: December 22nd, 2025 by Alan Wareham

Over the past 38 years, SimpsonHaugh Architects has established a strong presence in Manchester, compiling a distinguished portfolio of award-winning projects and playing a pivotal role in helping shape the city’s identity on both the national and international stage.

The practice’s initiation was motivated by a shared belief in the power of high-quality design to lead the regeneration of post-industrial cities and instigate new contemporary architectural identities. As projects have increased in scale over the years, these original values have matured and been reinforced such that they remain the practice’s guiding principles.

The underlying themes of urban renewal, sustainability and design excellence unite an otherwise diverse range of building functions and solutions. Similarly, the completed work demonstrates that the practice’s regeneration objectives are equally valid whether applied to new buildings or to existing historic structures.

A recurring challenge of the practice’s work has been the need to develop appropriate forms for emerging typologies. Its innovative solutions for public galleries, transport interchanges and high density living have both challenged normative design responses and contributed positive new precedents.

While the success of its completed work and a growing reputation for design integrity has allowed the practice to expand, Rachel and Ian remain personally involved in each project. Consequently, the inspiration in design and the attention to detail in construction that have stimulated the achievements of the practice so far will continue to guide the ambition and quality of its schemes in the future.

Ian Simpson and Rachel Haugh share their vision, highlight their architectural milestones, and place their work in the context of the evolution of the city.

Should We Permit Voluntary Assisted Dying?

Posted on: December 22nd, 2025 by Alan Wareham

Euthanasia is the act of deliberately ending a person’s life to relieve suffering. Assisted suicide is the act of deliberately assisting another person to kill themselves. The English courts have wrestled with challenges to the restrictions on euthanasia and assisted suicide for years, while the government has resisted calls to liberalise the law. Meanwhile, terminally ill people continue to travel overseas to clinics such as Dignitas, to end their lives. Assisted dying raises fundamental questions about respect for individual autonomy, protection of the vulnerable and the role the State should play. This online webinar explained the law and explored arguments for and against liberalisation.

Isabella Banks

Posted on: October 28th, 2025 by Alan Wareham

Isabella Banks née Varley.

Professionally known as Mrs G. Linnæus Banks.

Mancunian Author and Poet

25th March 1821 – 4th May 1897

Introduction

Isabella Banks was a Victorian author and poet. Though not a member of the Manchester Literary & Philosophical Society herself, she was born and bred in Manchester and she sounds like the kind of strong and opinionated woman who would embody the Man Lit & Phil’s value of intellectual curiosity. Known for her most famous book, ‘The Manchester Man’ she wrote twelve novels and three volumes of poetry as well as being a prolific contributor to the Notes and Queries section of the ‘Manchester City News’.  Between 1878 and 1897 (the year of her death) she wrote comments on over 150 Notes and Queries. These included lamenting, after her husband’s death, to having changed her name to that of her husband’s (who was also an author). Replying in a Notes and Queries article in the ‘Manchester City News’ in 1881 she remarked that there was “no reason that a woman should drop her maiden name” and that whoever came up with the new system of a woman keeping her name (in a double barrelled fashion) had done a “good service to her sisterhood, it not only preserves a woman’s individuality but tends to keep alive association with her own kith and kin.”

Early Life and Background

Isabella Banks was born Isabella Varley on the 25th March 1821. Some of the biographical details we know about her are from her very own copy of ‘The Annals of Manchester’, an 1886 record of the history of Manchester by W.E.A. Axon which includes mention of local people of note.

E.L. Burney, a local Didsbury biographer of Isabella Banks, was gifted a copy of the ‘Annals of Manchester’ with her bookplate and inscription, and observed she had added extensive handwritten notes in the book’s margins. On finding her own omission from the chronicles of notable births in 1821, Isabella had annotated the book to add her own biographical information. She wrote in the margins, “I was born on Oldham Street 25th March…” and was “…baptised by Joshua Brookes” – whom she later chronicled in The Manchester Man. We also find out, through her own annotations, that she was born during a “13 week frost.”

Isabella  lived in Manchester from her birth, to Amelia and James Varley, until she was around 27 years old, publishing her first poem, age 16, titled ‘A dying girl to her mother’ in the ‘Manchester Guardian’. From references in E.L. Burney’s book, there is mention of her “commencing” a School for Young Ladies in Cheetham at only 17 years of age. No reference to the exact school can be found, but it seems she ran it until she left both the school and Manchester in 1848. She married fellow author George Linnaeus Banks in December 1846, at Manchester Collegiate Church, subsequently taking his name for her publications.

Key contributions and achievements

Isabella Banks was one of only 36 female members (out of around 1000 in total) of the Manchester Mechanics Institute which had the aim of enabling Mechanics and Artisans to be acquainted with science. Many members were also members of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society. She was also a member of the Ladies Committee of the Anti-Corn Law League – which was itself established in Manchester. The Corn Laws imposed tariffs on imported grain to keep prices high to protect British farmers and landowners from cheaper foreign imports following the end of the Napoleonic War. A consequence of this was that bread became more and more expensive and unaffordable – especially to the poor. The law became increasingly unpopular with ordinary people, as well as to employers, who had to pay workers a higher wage to keep pace with price increases. It even contributed to the deaths seen in the Irish Potato Famine as there was a lack of surplus wheat available to help feed people. The law was repealed in 1846 – a victory for the Anti-Corn Law League and advocates of free trade, but led to Sir Robert Peel resigning as Prime Minister the same day due to opposition from his Conservative Party and British landowners.

Isabella was a member of the Sun Inn group of poets, named after the pub on Long Millgate in Manchester (opposite what is now Chetham’s School of Music in Cathedral Gardens) where a, mainly self-taught, group of writers met between 1840 and 1843. The group is attributed to have been started by the pub’s landlord William Earnshaw, (a friend of Isabella’s father), who, when realising he was onto a good thing, is said to have set up a new sign of ‘Poet’s Corner’ on the front of the inn – welcoming men of the literature and the arts to the upstairs snug. ‘Poet’s Corner’ articles were common in most newspapers of the time, allowing aspiring poet’s to submit their works, get published and help with the paper’s sales. This is probably how Isabella got her first poem published aged 16. She was encouraged to write poems to be included in the ‘Oddfellow’s Quarterly’ (where she met her husband) and ‘Bradshaw’s Journal’ by the then editors who were also members of the group. She also has a contribution called ‘Love’s Faith’ in the groups only published anthology, ‘The Festive Wreath’ a collection of original contributions read at a meeting on 24Th March 1842. It was noted by Michael Powell (past chief librarian of Chetham’s library) that Isabella was too shy to actually present any of her poems, instead “hiding behind a velvet curtain at the back of the room” and asked others to read her works. It appears that the Poet’s Corner meetings were often rowdy, male dominated, affairs with much singing and drinking. Not the usual hang out of a Victorian lady!

Isabella Banks’s most famous book is undoubtedly ‘The Manchester Man’ which is a very engaging and highly recommended read even for a 21st century audience. The book was initially published in 1874 as a series of articles in ‘Cassell’s Family Magazine’, a popular general interest periodical. It was then published in book form in 1876, with an updated illustrated version published shortly before Isabella’s death in 1896. It follows orphaned Jabez Clegg through his life and ascent through Manchester society. Guiding the reader through Jabez’s trials and successes plus a love triangle with his nemesis along the way, the book includes the description of a number of historical events. One incident of note being the Peterloo Massacre of 16th August 1819 at St Peter’s Field (now St Peter’s Square, in Manchester) where a peaceful assembly of around 60,000 protestors gathered in favour of political reform, demanding parliamentary representation for the industrial North at a time when less than 3% of the population had the vote. The magistrates of the day became increasingly worried about the (still peaceful) protesters who were waiting for the political orator Henry Hunt to speak, and ordered, initially the amateur yeomanry cavalry, and then the army – on horseback with sabres – to disperse the crowd (events described in Isabella’s book). It is estimated that at least 15 people died from sabre cuts and trampling, and nearly 700 people were injured. The term “Peterloo” was coined to mock the soldiers who killed unarmed civilians as a contrast to the men seen as heroes from the Battle of Waterloo.

The original manuscript of ‘The Manchester Man’ is held at Chetham’s Library, Manchester. Other items that once belonged to Isabella and a marble bust of her in her youth, are held in the E.L. Burney collection in John Ryland’s library.

Isabella was involved with the 1864 tercentennial (300th year) commemorations of the birth of Shakespeare on Primrose Hill in London. She “christened” the oak tree planted by actor Samuel Phelps, on the hill during the ceremony with “water from the River Avon” as “Shakespeare’s Oak.” The poet Eliza Cooke had written a poem and was meant to give the address, but was unwell, so Isabella deputised for her in front of a crowd estimated at around 10,000. According to a newspaper report she gave a “short and exceedingly well-worded speech, the only defect of which, was that, as might have been anticipated, its delivery was marred by the nervousness natural to a lady addressing so large and so public an audience for the first time.”

Some lesser-known facts

  • Jabez Clegg, “The Manchester Man” of her book’s title was also the name of a (now closed) pub near Manchester University.
  • A pub named after Joshua Brooks, the chaplain who baptised Isabella and whom she wrote about in The Manchester Man, has been a well-known City Centre bar for over twenty years.
  • Isabella Banks Street (M15 4RL) runs between Tony Wilson Place and Medlock Street in the centre of Manchester.
  • Isabella was noted to have paralysis of the sixth (cranial) nerve of her left eye -reportedly caused from “inflammation” as a baby due to the use of a “smoky chimney that was impossible to repair…during a 13 week frost”. As a result her left eye would have been unable to look outwards to her left.
  • Though Isabella started writing poetry as a teenager her writing career took a backseat during the first part of her marriage whilst she looked after the surviving three of her eight children. She, however, had to become the main family breadwinner and started writing again – aged 43 – when her husband, suffering from cancer, turned to alcohol to try and relieve his pain.
  • A quotation from her book ‘The Manchester Man’ appears on “Broadcaster and Cultural Catalyst” Tony Wilson’s gravestone in Southern Cemetery, Chorlton-cum-Hardy, South Manchester.

 

“Mutability is the epitaph of worlds

Change alone is changeless

People drop out of the history of a life as of a land

though their work or their influence remains”

 

(The Epitaph is from the start of Chapter The Seventeenth – In the Warehouse)

  • Isabella herself died aged 76 on 4th May 1897 and is buried in Abney Park cemetery Stoke Newington.
  • As well as writing novels and short stories, Isabella was a well-regarded poet and so to finish, here is a favourite, which still resonates today:

 

Deceived!

By Mrs G Linnæus Banks

On the Banks of a tranquil lake

A maiden reclined and dream’d

Of the hearts she would win and break

While that summer sunlight beam’d;

She mused o’er her victories past,

Of her captives yet to be;

And the spells she would round them cast

To bring them down to her knee

 

On the shore of a troubled lake

A maiden wander’d alone,

‘Mong the hearts she had vow’d to break

She had not counted her own;

But a brighter eye than her own,

A tongue as false and as fair,

Won her soul with a look and a tone,

Then left her to love and despair.

 

Lit&Phil Member – Nicola Barnes

Obituary for Marjorie Ainsworth

Posted on: August 21st, 2025 by Alan Wareham

Marjorie Ainsworth joined the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society (Lit & Phil) in 1955 and had been a member ever since – becoming an Honorary Member in 2005 (normally applied after 50 years’ membership). She came to events regularly until 2020 – when Covid and failing eyesight caused her to be unable to attend. However, she kept a lively interest in the Lit & Phil. She also wrote an article for the Memoirs which is well worth reading – and is available to view by members on the website – Volume 152 (2013-14), pages 140-144. Her husband Tom joined with her, and they were apparently very much part of a group of members in the 60s who would often cook stews and hotpots, to feed members after lectures!

Marjorie and Tom (he sadly died in 2007 at the age of 85) were also very keen members of the Manchester and Salford Film Society, Tom joined at the age of 16 and Marjorie at 17. Marjorie remained very active in that group, over the following 86 years, and became President – see the webpage of the Society, which contains a delightful video of Marjorie, detailing her involvement with it over so many decades – https://mandsfilmsociety.org.uk/

Sue Hilton

20 August 2025

Below is the article Marjorie wrote for the Memoirs Volume 152 (2013-14)

The Olden Days at the Lit & Phil

MARJORIE AINSWORTH

My late husband, Tom and I became members of the Lit & Phil in 1955. We had been recruited by a Miss Blackledge, who joined in 1953. We had made her acquaintance through our involvement with the Manchester Area Youth Film Council and her Presidential role with the Girls and Lads Club Association. The registered address at that time was the Portico Library, because the Society’s original Georgian house at 36 George Street had been blown up. It was then completely demolished by the Fire Brigade to provide a much-needed fire-break during one of the air raids in the Manchester Blitz. Council Meetings were held there and the occasional lecture. The first Lit & Phil event we attended was in the Reading Room at the Portico. Although the audience was necessarily small, some of us had to sit on piles of dusty tomes as the Portico itself had not fully recovered from the effects of the Blitz. The talk on ‘Abstract Impressionism’ was given by two members – Marcus and Mitzi Cunliffe. Marcus taught American Studies at the University and Mitzi was a sculptor whose best-known work is the golden BAFTA mask, which is still in use at award ceremonies. It was the first Tom and I had heard about Jackson Pollock et al. We were fascinated and decided there and then that joining the Society was a good move and promised an interesting and intriguing future.

There were about 350 members when we joined. Lectures were mostly arranged by Council, but Special Lectures were organised by the Chemical Section which, after a brief period as the Natural Philosophy Section, became the Science and Technology Section and the already functioning Social Philosophy Section. The Arts Section was not formed until 1970 and the first mention of it is in the Memoirs for that year. Margaret Pilkington was its first Chairman. Lectures were mostly held in the Reynolds Hall at the Manchester College of Technology (later to become UMIST) at the Whitworth Gallery and at various venues at Manchester University. During this time, plans were being made for the construction of a new home on the site of the demolished building in George Street. This was officially opened in September 1960. Tom and I were present at the inaugural address given by the President of the Royal Society, Sir Cyril Hinshelwood, its title being ‘The Arts and the Sciences’, a topic much discussed in intellectual circles at that time. I have a faded photograph of much younger versions of the two of us seated on the second row, on either side of our guest, Jim Whittaker. During the planning stage, discussions were also held about the best location for the Society’s visual aid equipment – an epidiascope and a slide projector. It just so happened that the Manchester & Salford Film Society, of which Tom was the Chairman, was desperately seeking a new home to continue in its attempts to bring art house and world cinema to the people of Manchester. Council’s agreement was obtained for the construction of a proper projection box at the rear of the lecture theatre, which would accommodate the Film Society’s two 16mm projectors. This would kill two birds with one stone; the Film Society would have somewhere to hold its performances, and the Lit & Phil would be able to offer film projection facilities to any organisation hiring the theatre for its meetings. Film Society committee members would act as projectionists when needed. This collaboration worked very well for all the eighteen years of the new building’s existence. Many Manchester Societies held their meetings in the lecture theatre and were very appreciative of the facilities provided. One such was the Scientific Film Society, of which Tom was the Chairman, mainly attended by sixth formers from local schools who were interested in the sciences. I recall sitting through a mind-numbing series of films entitled Corrosion, Parts 1, 2 and 3.

Every new season in September began with something called a ‘Conversatzione’. I think we dressed up a bit, were formally greeted by the current President and then given a glass of sherry. I don’t remember what happened after that. There was no Young People’s Section at the time, but there was always a Christmas Lecture for the children and grandchildren of members. This was one occasion when the Society’s splendid laboratory bench was called into action. There were many exciting demonstrations, usually involving explosions. The years at George Street were interesting and exciting. Tom and I practically lived on the premises. When we were not arranging the Film Society events, we were often to be found in the projection box operating the slide projector or film projector for an organisation which had hired the premises, as well as attending the Lit & Phil’s own meetings. Of the hundreds of lectures, I must have attended at George Street only a few are still vivid in my mind: Henry Lipson’s lecture about microwaves where he made a cake in a crude prototype oven of his own devising. He passed bits of cake to the members present; it was not very nice. Then there was Sir William Empson sporting a beard that looked like Spanish Moss telling us about ‘Seven Kinds of Ambiguity’. I am afraid it was as incomprehensible to many of us as the most erudite and obscure offerings of the Science and Technology Section. I remember being asked to look after Prof. Eysenck before his talk on ‘Personality Testing’ which was interesting, and one occasion, when I happened to be on the premises, Mrs. Garlick asked me if I would mind nipping over to Lewis’s Food Hall to get a jar of horseradish sauce to accompany the roast dinner which Council members enjoyed before their deliberations. Those were the days! Mr. and Mrs. Garlick were the caretakers and occupied the flat on the top floor. Members could always pop into the House for a cup of coffee or a snack or just nice sit down. The Garlicks usually provided a finger buffet for consumption before lectures. I have no happy memories of these buffets; I can still taste the margarine. The Arts Section buffets were always appreciated as we did our own thing. Molly Booth sourced the quiches; Tom and I raided Makro for the paté and cheese. We provided nice crusty bread and real butter. Wine boxes with red and white plonk enabled us to go on serving until they were well and truly empty, and this proved to be a popular Arts Section feature. The fact that I cannot remember more of the superb lectures at George Street is a pity, but at least I know a little something must have rubbed off as I now know of more unknowns. It was inspiring to walk past John Dalton’s headstone, set in the wall of the porch, which had been rescued from Ardwick Cemetery. I don’t know where it is now. Just inside the front door on the left was a minute office, from which Mary Urell miraculously dealt with all the Society’s administrative tasks.

The opening of the new house had a surprising and totally unexpected galvanising effect on a group of the more forward-looking members. I particularly remember Leonard Cohen who owned Henry’s department store on Market Street. His aim in life was to bring art to the masses. He exhibited Epstein’s Adam in the basement of his store and donated a fountain to Piccadilly Gardens. The new house so inspired him; he conceived the notion that George Street could become the epicentre of artistic activity in Manchester. He actually envisaged a new Opera House could be built between 36 George Street and the Art Gallery. His idea to have an extra storey built on the flat roof of No.36 to house an Arts Workshop accessible from the car park was, as it turned out, a structural impossibility. As a preliminary step toward achieving some of these ambitions, a group of members including Leonard in their own time and on their own initiative set up the Manchester Institute of Contemporary Art, MICA. They were not to be outdone by London where the Institute of Contemporary Arthad just been opened. Most of MICA’s events took place at the Lit& Phil house. Tom was the film officer, and I was a committee member. We played to packed houses when films of an experimental and avant-garde nature were screened. Some of the Lit & Phil members involved in all this activity were, as I hazily recall, Maurice Pariser – who unfortunately died before these dreams could be fulfilled, and Robert Sheldon and Edmund Dell who departed to become Labour Members of Parliament. We had the young Seamus Heaney reading his poetry on two occasions, a whole host of North West poets and many up-and-coming artists of the day. These were heady days expressing the general air of post-war optimism that seemed to promise a life more exciting and interesting than heretofore. It was undoubtedly the presence of the new, modern and accommodating building in the centre of Manchester that triggered these ambitious but finally impossible dreams.

There was only one unfortunate and unforeseen event which cause a temporary blip in relations between Lit& Phil and the Film Society. The North West Group of the British Federation of Film Societies hired the Lit and Phil premises for one of their Annual Viewing Sessions on a Saturday afternoon. These sessions were held for committee members of film societies to preview newly available films which they might want to include in their future programmes. The films came as a package direct from the British Film Institute in London and their content was unknown to the viewing panel assembled in the Lecture Theatre. As luck would have it Canon Saxon had arranged to meet his wife in the car park when she had finished her shopping, and seeing that something was happening in the house, decided to have a look. The film on the screen at that moment happened to be a short subject reel by Kenneth Anger (a famous and well-regarded director) called Fireworks. None of the people present had seen the film before and were oblivious as to its content. They were just as startled as Canon Saxon to find they were looking at a pixellated and impressionistic depiction of a meeting between several gay sailors. The matter was raised at a subsequent Council Meeting by Canon Saxon. After a full explanation had been accepted – cordial relations were resumed and lasted for all the eighteen years of the building’s existence. Unfortunately, it eventually became apparent that something was radically wrong with the fabric of the building. Cracks began to appear in the walls and the flat roof leaked. The fault lay in the use of high alumina cement in its construction. This was a wonder innovation of the 50’s lauded for its quick-drying properties. The firms involved in the building of the house had gone into liquidation and there was no alternative but to sell the site and become peripatetic until new permanent premises could be found. Our exodus after only eighteen years was inevitable, and inflation and rising property prices soon made a permanent home highly unlikely. I remember the admin offices in Brown Street and the Law Library, before MMU came to the rescue. Section meetings were held in Platt Chapel, St. Thomas’s on Ardwick Green, the Withington Girls High School, the Edgar Wood Centre in Victoria Park, the Muriel Stott Centre at Manchester University, and the Portico Library. The Film Society was also again desperately seeking somewhere to live and was saved by the Manchester Amateur Photographic Society which had just purchased Platt Chapel in Fallowfield.

Tom was an early Chairman of the Arts Section of which I was later Secretary and then Chairman. We were both co-opted to the Arts Section committee for many years, no doubt because of our joint long- term memory stores. My short-term memory is now less than reliable. Tom died in 2007 at the age of 85 but if he could see us now, he would be greatly gratified to see the Literary & Philosophical Society, of which he was very fond, flourishing and growing in spite of its past vicissitudes. I cannot believe that I have achieved doyenneship of the Society in my 94th year and can still remember listening to Marcus and Mitzi in 1955.

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