Ludlow & Sherriff's "Botanical Endeavours"

Frank Ludlow (third from right) & George Sherriff (second from right) at the Gangtok Residency, 1933

Earlier this week I went to a talk at the Royal Geographical Society (RGS). Titled: Primulas, Poppies and Rhododendrons – the ‘Botanical Endeavours’ of Ludlow and Sherriff. It was given by Jan Faull, a retired film expert from the British Film Institute (BFI), now writing her PhD on the use of film during the 1920s Everest Expeditions. The purpose of the talk was to highlight the recently digitised RGS film archive relating to the remarkable exploits of two intrepid plant hunters, Frank Ludlow and George Sherriff.

I am also looking at the Ludlow and Sherriff expeditions, but from a slightly different perspective, as part of my PhD research. Beginning with Ernest H. Wilson and Augustine Henry at the turn of the century, and followed by George Forrest, Reginald Farrer, William Purdom, Joseph Rock, and Frank Kingdon Ward, the period covered by my study of botanists on the Sino-Tibetan frontier up to 1949 is neatly bookended by Frank Ludlow and George Sherriff. In June this year, whilst I was researching in the archives of the Royal Botanical Gardens in Edinburgh, I was able to take a quick look through some of their personal papers, diaries, and photographs. They made six extensive expeditions in total, steadily and systematically working their way east from Bhutan to Tibet in the years between 1933 and 1949. Given the level of their meticulous organisation in conducting these very methodical expeditions it is surprising they published very little of the results, only authoring a handful of articles on their botanical and avifaunal discoveries themselves. Neither of them published any book length accounts of their travels. Instead the main work to consult today is Harold Fletcher’s excellent A Quest of Flowers (Edinburgh, 1975), which makes extensive use of their diaries and letters to retell their expeditions in their own words. There is a wonderful chapter in Fletcher’s book which is written by George Sherriff’s wife, Betty, recounting the years of the Second World War – an ‘interlude’ from their plant collecting expeditions, which they spent on a British Government posting to Lhasa. Hence I was fascinated to find out that shortly before she died in 1978 Betty Sherriff recorded a narration to accompany one of their original colour films, which has now been digitised by the BFI and can be viewed here:

Jan Faull’s talk was illustrated by several similar clips from their black and white films (now held in the archives of the RGS) which they shot in Bhutan and SE Tibet, as well as one filmed in Kashgar (in present day Xinjiang). These films show a wealth of fascinating detail, particularly in terms of life on expedition; the wonderful national dress found in these Himalayan communities; and the warm smiles of their porters and the local people they met is very notable. However, I was particularly struck by two things with regard to Ludlow and Sherriff themselves: firstly, the fact that George Sherriff always appears to be industriously occupied, busying himself with various tasks, whereas Frank Ludlow often seems to be strolling around, meditatively staring off into the distance at the high, misty peaks surrounding them. Writing in The Alpine Journal in 1997, Michael Ward notes that Sherriff was 15 years younger than Ludlow: “Their attitudes were complimentary; Ludlow was the scholarly academic, whilst Sherriff was the precise, efficient, practical organiser and an expert mechanic and electrician. Both were captivated by the magic of the Himalaya and Tibet. They had a great mutual respect and harmony of views, and serious arguments and friction were unknown: yet, during all the long years of their friendship, they always addressed each other by their surnames only.” They were also great friends of the King of Bhutan, Jigme Dorji Wangchuk.

The second thing I found most striking about their films is how remarkably heavy and very cumbersome the loads which the expedition porters had to bear on their bent backs seem to be (although it’s possible these loads weren’t quite so heavy as some of the regular loads of tea which were carried into Tibet from China), as well as the precarious state of the ‘roads’ they had to travel, with precipitous inclines, fording fast flowing rivers, or shinning across precarious ropeways and suspension bridges. These were journeys for the hardiest of travellers. Jan Faull pointed out that George Sherriff always swore by the health-giving benefits derived from the large supplies of whisky which they took with them; something which he also considered as highly effective against malaria too! … I didn’t realise before but Sherriff was related to the famous family of Scotch whisky distillers of the same name from Bowmore in Islay.

Something else which these films show are the remarkable vistas of flowers that were the commercial and scientific purpose of all their expeditions. I’d pictured these scenes from the very vivid descriptions found in Farrer and Kingdon Ward’s books, as well as Fletcher’s, along with my own experience wandering through the region further to the north, but seeing these vistas as rendered first-hand in their films is quite something else. As Jan Faull explained, Ludlow and Sherriff pioneered the use of colour photography on their journeys, at first using Kodacolour film made by the Eastman Kodak Company, a type of film stock which was only in use for a few years before it was superseded by the more familiar Kodachrome film. It’s thought that these films were primarily made by Sherriff and Ludlow for their own records, or for use as part of their public talks and lectures rather than for proper distribution. As can readily be seen these films now comprise a unique record. They certainly constitute an invaluable source of information for historians, anthropologists, and for the local communities of the Himalayas themselves. Through the joint work of the RGS and the BFI, it’s wonderful to see that many of these films (and others like them) are currently being preserved through digitisation, and it’s even more wonderful that they are now being openly shared with everyone across the globe via the world-wide-web for free:

 See for yourself:

BFI – Royal Geographical Society Film Archive

(including George Sherriff’s B&W and Kodacolour Films)

BFI – India on Film, 1899-1947