The author of the Letter to the Hebrews reminds Christians that they’re surrounded by an incredible “cloud of witnesses.” (NRSV) That “cloud” has continued to grow in size since then. In this monthly column we shall be excited about among the people and events, over the past 2000 years, which have helped make up this “cloud.” People and events which have helped construct the community of the Christian church because it exists today.
One of essentially the most famous of London’s many statues stands in Piccadilly Circus. Atop the monument a unadorned, winged, youth is dramatically poised – bow in hand – within the act of firing arrows down into the crowds and traffic of this busy spot in central London.
Ask Londoners, passing tourists, and tens of millions of individuals worldwide who’s represented by the statue and just about all will reply: “It’s Eros, ancient Greek god of romantic love.” The statue is now internationally famous and even appears on the masthead of the Evening Standard in print and online.
Erected in 1893, it became such a well known landmark that it was removed for safety in the course of the First World War (going back up in 1919); then removed again in the course of the construction of Piccadilly Circus underground station within the Nineteen Twenties; and removed for a 3rd time, to guard it in the course of the Second World War.
Since then, it has been a everlasting feature, apart from a transient time within the Nineteen Eighties when it was removed for restoration. More recently, the statue’s bow was replaced in 2012, after being damaged by a tourist, and – when this too was damaged – it was replaced again, in 2022, when the brand new bow was created from aluminium. However, there may be more to this statue than meets the attention or is represented in quite a few cartoons and representations.
The problems with “Eros”
Firstly, there may be the matter of the identity of the winged archer. It isn’t “Eros.” It should be admitted that there’s a little bit of confusion about this, but what is evident is that no one on the time of its erection named it because the god of romantic love.
Then, in the course of the First World War, it began to be increasingly known as “Eros” and from that time onwards the “identity” was fixed. However, in 1921, a book about its sculptor, Sir Alfred Gilbert, claimed he had described it as “reflective and mature love, versus Eros or Cupid, the frivolous tyrant.”
This has caused a number of people to assume that, somewhat than Eros, the statue represents Eros’ brother, Anteros, the traditional Greek god of reflective love. This could also be consistent with a press release made by Gilbert, in 1903, when he stated that his aim was to represent “blindfolded Love sending forth indiscriminately, yet with purpose, his missile of kindness.”
But that would mean that the statue may simply represent a personification of affection showered down (represented by arrows) on people. No Eros. No Anteros. Spoiler alert: the statue isn’t blindfolded, so the outline is a bit confusing!
Secondly, the official name of the monument isn’t “Eros” and never has been. It is definitely called the “Shaftesbury Memorial Fountain,” or the “Shaftesbury Monument.” The latter name is now more appropriate since there isn’t a longer any flowing water at the location. This is certainly not the way it is titled on tea-towels, T-shirts, cartoons, or Valentine’s Day cards.
In that very same 1903 statement about “blindfolded Love,” Gilbert had earlier explained that he had “been actuated in its design by a desire to symbolize the work of Lord Shaftesbury.” During the memorial’s unveiling in 1893, The Times newspaper described the fountain there as “‘illustrative of Christian charity”, the concept being of affection and kindness freely bestowed on all. This was a long time before anyone described it as “Eros.” That is why the statue is typically described because the “Angel of Christian Charity,” although you will not find that on many tea-towels or T-shirts. Perhaps one should!
Far from being a monument of romantic or sexual love, the statue that now dominates Piccadilly Circus was erected in 1893 as a memorial to the Christian philanthropist Lord Shaftesbury.
How a mis-named “statue of Romantic Love” is definitely a reminder of a unprecedented Christian reformer
Anthony Ashley-Cooper, seventh Earl of Shaftesbury (1801–1885) was one of the crucial effective social and industrial reformers of the nineteenth century. He became Lord Ashley when his father succeeded to the family earldom in 1811 and entered Parliament in 1826 as MP for Woodstock.
This was one in every of the so-called “pocket boroughs” which, before the 1832 Reform Act, was “within the pocket” of a wealthy landowner who could gift it to whomever they pleased. In this case the “pocket” belonged to his uncle, the Duke of Marlborough. On the death of his father, in 1851, he entered the House of Lords as Earl of Shaftesbury.
Like all people, he was complex, and his actions sometimes reflected his class and time. In 1832, he attacked the Reform Bill which was extending the best to vote beyond a tiny percentage of the electorate; he was accused of focusing more on the conditions faced by industrial employees than on the conditions experienced by the agricultural labourers on the Shaftesbury estates; and he shared with many others of his contemporaries deep suspicions regarding Catholic faith.
However, while this reminds us that each one human “heroes” are imperfect, there may be simply no denying the huge positive impact he had on his society and this was firmly rooted in his evangelical Christian faith.
He favoured the political emancipation of Roman Catholics and supported the repeal of the Corn Laws (import duties on grain), in 1846. These were actions which broke out of the narrow outlook of a lot of his elite contemporaries. It revealed a willingness to interact with contested and sophisticated issues in a way which promoted social justice.
Shaftesbury became a “lunacy commissioner” in 1828, at a time when the mentally ailing were each brutally marginalised and people in institutions were often treated as a “peep show” to entertain others. He drove forward the passage of the Lunacy Act of 1845, which was the primary British legal statute to treat the severely mentally ailing as “individuals of unsound mind,” somewhat than as outcasts.
He was a long-time supporter of factory reform. In the expanding factory system of the economic revolution, hours, conditions, and pay were shockingly poor for vast numbers of employees. After 1833, Shaftesbury became leader of the factory reform movement in parliament. The law for shortening the working day in textile mills – the Ten Hours Act of 1847 – is popularly often called Lord Ashley’s Act.
The Mines Act of 1842, which he promoted, banned all women and girls, and all boys under the age of 10, from underground work in coal mines. Prior to this act, children as young as 4 or five might be present in mines. Acting as “trappers,” opening and shutting doors, they’d sit for hours in total darkness. As one confided to a reforming commissioner, “sometimes I’m scared of the dark.”
Pregnant women worked far into their pregnancies. One explained that “the belt and chain [belt round the waist, chain between the legs, to haul a heavy container of coal] is worse once we are within the family way.” And women and girls often experienced appalling sexual abuse underground. The Mines Act aimed to place a stop to all this.
He fought against the practice of chimney sweeps sending children up chimneys. Children who spent their life in soot often suffered from skin cancers and were sometimes trapped and died within the narrow confines of a domestic chimney.
As a member of the General Board of Health (1848–54) he argued for state sponsorship of low-cost housing for industrial cities. Urban centres, which had massively expanded in the course of the industrial revolution, were notorious for the poor quality, unhealthy, and overcrowded housing that had sprung as much as accommodate industrial employees and their families.
For thirty-nine years he was president of the so-called Ragged Schools Union. This made it possible for 300,000 destitute children to receive some free education.
He served as president of the British and Foreign Bible Society, which made vernacular translations of the Scriptures available to peoples of all ethnic groups, at a price they may afford. It helped put the Bible into the hands of vast numbers of people that, otherwise, wouldn’t have been capable of afford them.
He supported the muse of enormous numbers of Young Men’s Christian Associations and Working Men’s Institutes. These provided secure spaces for rest and education.
In addition, he financially supported quite a few Nonconformist missionary societies, in addition to those belonging to the Church of England, which showed a generosity of spirit which looked beyond denominational boundaries.
The impact of Lord Shaftesbury
Shaftesbury was something of an obsessive. Florence Nightingale (somewhat an obsessive herself) apparently wryly observed that, had he not been so committed to reform of the lunatic asylum system, he would have been in a single himself. But his achievements were massive. And perhaps it took a special form of obsessiveness to drive forward so many reforms, on so many fronts.
What is undeniable is that his impact was huge and lasting. When he died, vast numbers of unusual people took to the streets of London to pay their respects as his coffin went past. That is a unprecedented testimony to the person and his work.
Shaftesbury would have explained that his reforming work was the logical consequence of his deep Christian faith. His life and his achievements provide a unprecedented testimony to the truth of that faith and the way it inspired him to motion on behalf of others. That is a permanent legacy. Next time you see that statue in Piccadilly Circus, consider the truth behind it of a lifetime of Christian service, somewhat than the favored legend that has obscured its meaning.
Martyn Whittock is a historian and a Licensed Lay Minister within the Church of England. The writer, or co-author, of fifty-six books, his work covers a big selection of historical and theological themes. In addition, as a commentator and columnist, he has written for several print and online news platforms and been interviewed on TV and radio news and discussion programmes exploring the interaction of religion and politics. His recent books include: Daughters of Eve (2021), Jesus the Unauthorized Biography (2021), The End Times, Again? (2021), The Story of the Cross (2021), and Apocalyptic Politics (2022). His latest book, American Vikings: How the Norse Sailed into the Lands and Imaginations of America (2023), examines evidence for Norse exploration (including by the primary Christians to achieve that continent) of North America and its impact on culture and politics there.
