Disability: A New History

In the final part of his series, Peter White reveals the birth of a modern disabled identity in the 19th century - through the lives of some extraordinary independent blind women. Peter says, 'I'm used to people describing me as disabled. Fair enough, I can't see. But I do wonder sometimes whether putting me into a disabled category really makes much sense. Some of my best friends use wheelchairs, but the truth is our needs could hardly be more different. I fall over them, they run over me! But over the last 40 years, disabled people have needed a collective identity to make change possible, to break down discrimination in jobs, transport, in people's attitudes generally.People have tended to think that this sense of collective identity in Britain began after the First World War, when so many men returned with very visible injuries. But the evidence I've uncovered making this series reveals it to have begun much earlier.This evidence comes from new research into the lives of blind women in the 19th century. W

Disabled children are everywhere in popular fiction - Tiny Tim, What Katy Did, The Secret Garden. But what about the real children of the 19th century? What were their lives like, and where can we hear their voices? In this 9th programme in the series, Peter White searches for documents which reveal the reality of children's lives.He discovers new research into the history of the Brave Poor Things, a charity which set out to 'save' disabled children across the country through organised games, outings, and a Guild song:'A trouble's a ton, A trouble's an ounce A trouble is what you make it. And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts But only how did you take it.'The literature of the Brave Poor Things includes quotes from children - like this girl:'O! I am so glad to be a cripple!' said a happy-faced girl one day when away in the country. 'Glad?' questioned someone. What DO you mean? And she answered, 'I can't help being glad. It is so beautiful to belong to the Guild, and I couldn't unless I had lost m

Peter White explores sex and marriage between disabled people and reveals the shameful history of eugenics in Britain.The programme begins with a document from Buckingham Palace - an order for some glamorous undergarments for a Royal Trousseau. They were sewn by the women of the Girls' Friendly Society, a group of disabled seamstresses who made a living by sewing sexy underwear. But they themselves had no expectation of marriage, or a sex life. In fact, if they were discovered not to be a virgin they were expelled from the group.For disabled women - or men - the idea of sex or marriage was taboo. The programme traces the fear of 'bad blood' - the early and shameful history of the eugenics movement in Britain. It was a potent mixture of bad science and fear, and it ran right through society. The birth control pioneer Marie Stopes, for instance, became hysterical at the prospect of her son marrying a girl who had bad eyesight and refused to attend the wedding.But despite such fears, there were of course romanti

Peter White has a close encounter with a huge wooden leg, and asks who got access to new technology in the 19th century.Strangely, wooden legs were thought to be sexy in the 19th century. During the 22 years of war with France, tens of thousands of British soldiers and sailors gave their lives for their country. Surviving, with a missing limb, became tangible proof of valour - and virility.However, the reality of life with a wooden leg was anything but romantic. Peter White discovers an extraordinary account written by a 19th century soldier, Thomas Jackson, who lost his leg in battle:"Military surgeons are not very nice about hurting one. What with the tearing off of the bandages, and the opening of the wound afresh, and the tying of the ligaments of the arteries, I fear in my feeble strength I must have sunk under the excruciating pain. When fitted on, my wooden leg was strapped by the knee. I looked down with the same kind of satisfaction which a dog does when he gets a tin kettle tied to his tail."But Wil

Work and disability has always been an awkward fit. Peter White says, 'When as a teenager I said I wanted to be a broadcaster, there was a sharp intake of breath. Shouldn't I be considering becoming a piano tuner, or a physiotherapist? That's what blind people did. I wanted to know what it was like in the past, when people had to work - or starve.'What he discovers is surprising - disabled people were everywhere in the 19th century work-force. In some parts of the country, more than 60% of nurses had a disability. For other disabled men and women, earning a living meant creating a particular niche for themselves. Peter uncovers the career of the blind poet Priscilla Pointon, who made a living writing poetry about her life - signing up hundreds of people on a subscription list to become a wealthy woman. She was just one in a long tradition of blind poets.Peter also discovers a treasure trove of letters from disabled people seeking work in the Victorian period, which have been collected by Professor Stephen Kin

Peter White draws on the latest research to reveal the lives of physically disabled people in the 18th and 19th centuries. Today - Finding a Voice: Peter discovers William Hay, an 18th-century MP born with spinal curvature who has left us a remarkably revealing account of his life. Peter comments, 'This series has been full of surprises for me - surprises even after making programmes about disability for 30 years. But perhaps this discovery has been for me the most startling. It's a book which very few people know about, and even fewer have read - a personal exploration of what it's like to be disabled in the 18th century. It's full of insights we like to think of as modern.'In his book 'On Deformity', William Hay describes his life as a disabled MP, in Parliament and on the streets. He reveals the daily humiliation of being a man of restricted growth and his fear of rowdy crowds. But he also proudly challenges the conventional thinking of the time that his disability makes him ill. He gives advice to other m

Peter White draws on the latest research to reveal the lives of physically disabled people in the 18th and 19th centuries. Today, he explores ideas of beauty and deformity which had a real impact on the lives of people with disabilities.In the 18th century, you could be transformed from beautiful to 'deformed' overnight. We hear the first-hand account of one woman who suffered this transformation - the writer Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, a society beauty who caught smallpox when she was 26: 'How am I changed! Where's my complexion, where the bloom that promised happiness for years to come?'Mourning loss of beauty was not just natural human vanity, because beauty was thought of as a moral quality, not just skin-deep - and ugliness was deeply shameful. The belief was that outward deformity revealed inner wickedness.Peter explores how this idea changed under the impact of a greater scientific understanding of the world. But surprisingly, science did not encourage more tolerance - in fact, it led to a much narrower

Peter White draws on the latest research to reveal the lives of physically disabled people in the 18th and 19th centuries. In this third episode, he challenges our modern ideas of freaks and freak shows.Many disabled people who exhibited themselves in the 18th century were in fact wealthy entrepreneurs. Historians now argue that they were in charge of their own careers, and they challenged society's expectations of what disabled people could achieve.Case studies include the artist Matthew Buchinger, who was born without arms or legs but became a performer to Royalty and a symbol of virility in the 18th century. Peter also discovers that 18th century dwarves could be delivered to your door in a box - if you were wealthy enough to pay for a private view.With historians David Turner, Judith Hawley and Naomi Baker and voices from the past brought to life by actors Gerard McDermott, Ewan Bailey and Emily Bevan.Producer: Elizabeth Burke Academic adviser: David Turner of Swansea University A Loftus production for BB

Peter White draws on the latest research to reveal the lives of physically disabled people in the 18th and 19th centuries. In this second episode - the search for Miracle Cures.Peter says, 'Every so often in the street someone sees me with my white stick and comes up to me -and offers me my sight back. I'm usually quite rude to them, it depends what kind of day I'm having. But the idea of miracle cures runs very deep.'It goes back at least to the Middle Ages, to the earliest accounts we have of disability in Britain. Peter investigates the roots of the idea of the miracle cure, in conversation with medieval historian Irina Metzler. She reveals that having a child with a disability was thought to be the result of 'the wrong kind of sex' - and there were many 'wrong kinds', such as sex on Feast Days and in daylight.Thousands of people with illnesses and disabilities flocked to their local Cathedral, praying to the Saints for a cure. When that didn't work, they simply moved on to another cathedral. And the belie

Across the country, historians are discovering the voices of disabled people from the past. In this 10-part series, Peter White draws on the latest research to reveal first-hand accounts of what it was like to live with physical disability in the 18th and 19th centuries. The result is moving, revealing, and sometimes very funny: 'Sirs, I am a dwarf. I have lost my job at the circus and what is a dwarf to do in such a situation? In this Godforsaken place the snow comes so deep that a self-respecting dwarf can't even walk along the street without drowning!'This document is from a huge archive of letters from disabled people in the 19th century, applying to the local authorities for money. They are a rich source of what life was like with a disability. Sources like this are only now being discovered and interpreted by historians across the country - it amounts to a new historical movement. In the first programme, Peter explores what this new history reveals, and challenges our pre-conceptions. For Peter, as a bl