Saturday, 8 February 2020

Joan Procter and Sir Peter Chalmers Mitchell at London Zoo in the 1920s-30s: A Dissenting Account from Solly Zuckerman

Solly Zuckerman with
monkey. Oxford, 1935
from
Apes to Warlords
I have written several times about Joan Procter, Curator of Reptiles at London Zoo until her death at the age of 34 in 1931, and her relationship with her boss, Sir Peter Chalmers Mitchell.

All the accounts of Joan Procter’s life and achievements were written by Chalmers Mitchell, that great self-publicist, and it is difficult to assess how others viewed her. All present-day accounts are derived from Mitchell’s various publications but I knew that sometime in the past I had come across a dissenting view. Finally, I remembered that Solly Zuckerman in the first part of his autobiography published in 1978, was the dissenter. Zuckerman, before his meteoric rise to power in British science and a life peerage, had been employed by the Zoological Society of London in 1928-1932 as Prosector—research anatomist in modern parlance—to work on the remains of the animals that died in the Zoo. As well as doing this he built on earlier research he had done in South Africa and wrote his famous book, The Social Life of Monkeys and Apes. He later became one of Chalmers Mitchell’s successors as Secretary of the Zoological Society.

This is what Zuckerman had to say on Chalmers Mitchell and Joan Procter:

Joan Procter
The main executive officer of the governing body, which is an elected and unpaid Council, is the Secretary. Sir Peter Chalmers Mitchell, who occupied that office during the five years when I was a member of the Society’s staff, was not only the Society’s un­questioned ruler, but also a well-known character in the life of London. In his time the secretaryship was a highly paid full-time post, which enjoyed a number of privileges, including a luxurious flat on the upper floor of the Society’s main office. Mitchell ruled his domain with a rod of iron, and while his chief administrator was Dr. Vevers*, he himself seemed to be ruled by Joan Proctor, the Curator of Reptiles, a young woman of powerful personality. Once I was commanded to go to see her in her house near the Zoo. This was an unnerving experience, since she kept as a pet a wild Serval cat, on which I had to keep a wary eye as she spoke. She ordered me to relieve some giant tortoises of the constipation from which she supposed them to be suffering. I did not have the slightest idea what to do but, in my anxiety to get away, said that I would attend to the matter. Later that day I joked about my impending task with Malcolm Pearson, a medical student friend. Malcolm had a nice sense of humour, and after we had discussed the matter, I sent a message to Joan Proctor’s staff to have the affected animals strung up in tennis nets by 9 o’clock the next morning, and to have pails of soapy water and syringes prepared for a visit which I and another doctor would be making. There was no need for any enemas by the time we arrived. Excitement alone had done the trick, and the centre of the new Reptile House was a terrible mess. Apart from asking me to give anti-venom serum to a keeper who had got himself bitten by a snake, Joan Proctor never bothered me again. Malcolm and I dined out more than once on the story.
Peter Chalmers Mitchell
Chalmers Mitchell was not the only member of the Society’s Council who had fallen under Joan Proctor’s spell, and when she died in 1931 at the early age of 34, a medal, one side of which bore her likeness, was struck in her honour. The intention was that it should be presented each year to a distinguished expert on reptiles, but I can find no record that it was ever awarded. Perhaps she was not sufficiently outstanding scientifically to be commemorated in this way. The one copy of the medal that I know still exists is among the Society’s memorabilia. 



I think we can take it that Zuckerman was not overly impressed by Miss Procter. Read my earlier article Joan Procter and Sir Peter Chalmers Mitchell. Scandalous Rumours at London Zoo and Whipsnade in the 1920s and try to decide if Zuckerman’s account helps us decipher what was going on.


*Geoffrey Marr Vevers (1890-1970). Not to be confused with his son, Henry Gwynne Vevers (1916-1988).

Mitchell PC. 1929. Centenary History of the Zoological Society of London. London: Zoological Society of London

Zuckerman S. 1978. From Apes to Warlords. London: Hamish Hamilton

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