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Archaeology of domestic life in early 20th century Britain

The aim of this blog is to publish data on early 20th century buildings, whilst this is still accessible. Much material of interest to the historian is being destroyed through 'home improvements' and DIY, and objects are increasingly being divorced from their context through dispersal after the death of their owners. By creating an easily accessible contextual record of material culture, it is hoped that those interested in this period of history may have a resource through which the details of domestic life might be studied.

If you have any artefacts of interest, or make discoveries during the process of your own investigations that you would like to share, please contact me!
Showing posts with label Derby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Derby. Show all posts

Monday, 28 May 2012

Façade of a late Victorian terraced house in Derby: modernisation, individuality, and structural change

Another Dec20 post, on the façade of the late Victorian foundry worker's house, 'No. 8'. (The Flickr slideshow to the right shows photos from this building)... 

INTRODUCTION

Past owners and inhabitants inscribe their presence and existence upon building façades. No. 8 provides a typical example of this: though originally constructed in the same style as neighbouring buildings (probably at around the same time and by the same builders), there are differences between this and other houses, which themselves often in some way differ to one another. This variety reflects the stories of the street, each modification marking a point in time when someone connected with the resident (whether tenant or landowner, builder or painter) interacted with the house. And, although we often think of such transformations as purely personal choices, unrelated to wider social, political, and economic change, this is rarely the case. Some of the more noticeable changes will be considered briefly below.

 A CHANGING STREET

A glance along the street would suggest that it has changed little since its construction during the late 19th century – bar the move evident signs of modernity: the few cars belonging to residents, the church hall now built over the old graveyard, the tarmac covered road and pavement, and the numerous television aerials. But standing outside the front of No. 8, some of the changes made to this and adjacent buildings become obvious. The latest change – not to the house itself, but the installation of a feature directly outside the house – is the replacement of the street light last year by the City Council.
Façade, No. 8
This is the product and development of changes made to planning legislation in 1990, which included regulations surrounding ‘listed’ buildings – those recognised for their historic significance – and the designation of conservation areas: places of “special architectural or historic interest the character or appearance of which it is desirable to preserve or enhance”. In this case, the Victorian origins of the street has been emphasised by the style of the light – or ‘lantern’ as the work specification refers to this feature.
Cable box
Another relatively recent change seen along the street is the installation of equipment for cable TV and phone line, manifest in the faded brown plastic boxes appended to the fronts of houses – somewhat incongruous with the ‘re-Victorianisation’ of the smart new old-fashioned ‘lantern’. This was undertaken during the late 1990s – early 2000s, and both reflects broad technological developments, and transformations in the use and meaning of domestic space – at a time when the home was increasingly seen a place of entertainment and leisure. Such changes, in conjunction with, for example, economic developments (such as supermarkets offering inexpensive alcohol), and other technological developments (such as ‘home theatre’ equipment), have affected local economies.  Social venues (such as public houses) that were hitherto significant community locales increasingly found (and continue to find, according to publicans) it difficult or impossible to survive, further affecting social relationships outside the home, and influencing the transformation of community identities.

PRETTY INDIVIDUAL?

Hanging bracket, No. 8
A seemingly insignificant recent feature is the painted wrought iron bracket beside the door, which has in the past been used to suspend ‘hanging-baskets’ of flowers. Whilst the hanging-basket might simply be seen as an aesthetically pleasing injection of colour and individuality to an otherwise repetitive (and perhaps to some, bland) scene, it might also be seen in the context of notions of respectability, that were powerful in the late 19th - early 20th century, but which remain important today.[i] An earlier ornamentation on the façade of No. 8 might be represented by a wooden block in the wall above the bracket (before modern plastics were widely used, wooden pegs or blocks were inserted into the hole, and the screw inserted into the wood):
But the most noticeable changes are those made to the door and associated features, and to the windows.

THE DOORSTEP

Doorstep, No. 8
To the right is the front door; and beneath the door is a step – another important feature bound by notions of respectability; and one that relates No. 8 to broad social and cultural changes in the 20th century. The original doorstep (which it can be seen from some of the houses in the street was of stone, with a rolled edge) has been replaced by a rectangular ‘terrazzo’ step – a common addition to mid 20th century houses. The primary motivation behind such a change might have been practical: the stone was perhaps significantly worn through pedestrian traffic, and the terrazzo step is hard wearing; however, the other steps in the street seem to have worn well. Another motivation may again relate to changing social and economic conditions and attitudes. Associations between cleanliness and respectability were often manifest through treatment of the front doorstep in late Victorian and early 20th century Britain.[ii] At many terraced houses, it was scrubbed clean each day and reddened, or whitened  with pipe-clay or lime donkey stone – an arduous and time-consuming task (and particularly unpleasant on cold days), but often seen as an essential chore. However, conditions (which included over-crowing and poor sanitation facilities) sometimes meant such a task wasn’t practicable – and in some cases the door ‘step’ merely consisted of a stone threshold.[iii] It is possible that, as more women experienced changing work patterns, the terrazzo step enabled this task to be abandoned.[iv] The fortunate households with sufficient disposable income often paid ‘char’ women to do the ‘dirtier’ and more strenuous household chores, including step cleaning and whitening. Though a sign of respectability for the resident or home owner, step cleaning some who undertook the task found it humiliating.[v] One piece of family history may provide some insight into this. The memories of Mrs. H. relates how her grandmother, Ethel Wood (nee Morton), lived with her (i.e. Ethel’s) two small daughters (after one had died in a road accident) during the early 20th century in an almshouse in Derby; she struggled to support them and herself, after her husband had abandoned her. In need of any extra money, she was paid a penny each day to clean the steps of her more affluent sister, who lived in a larger house, a few streets a way; this situation carries a sense of shame and degradation in family history.[vi] The employment of children to do this task perhaps enhanced these feelings.[vii]

THE BOOT SCRAPER / SHOE CLEANER

Remains of scraper, neighbouring property
Boot scrapers were commonly found in many Victorian terraces; considering the time taken in cleaning the step, this was perhaps a well-used feature. There were often made of stone, and fitted with a usually flat iron bar, which is nowadays commonly missing – as can be seen in the case of another house in the street.[viii]
Boot scraper No. 8
Sometimes they are removed completely; the invention and widespread ownership of vacuum cleaners from the 1960s onwards may have made them less necessary. Although it is possible that No. 8 was not in fact fitted with a scraper, the disorderly bricks (attempts have been made to sustain the Flemish Bond of the other brick courses, although this has necessitated substantial trimming of some of the bricks used) suggest that a scraper was at sometime removed (although if this is the case, it appears that old bricks were used to fill the remaining recess.

THE DOOR

Front Door
The door is a 1930s replacement, made of timber with a leaded stained glass light. Immediately above the door is a cast iron number plate (perhaps fitted at the same time as the door). And the original light above the door – which is can be seen from neighbouring properties once consisted of 10 small panes – has been replaced by reeded obscure glass, again perhaps at the same time as the door (it is interesting to see early – perhaps original – crown glass in the light above the door of the adjacent house). The door has been painted several times since it was first fitted, although the original colour is yet unknown.
Many local terraced houses have been fitted with similar doors; the date of this change is perhaps significant. House ownership was becoming possible for members of the lower middle class – in some cases, for well-paid working class families – during the 1930s. But house purchase was still beyond the majority; nevertheless, improvement are common during this time, which will be discussed as each room in No. 8 is explored.
With regard to notions of home, the front door is one of the most important features of a house: it is the interface between the inside and outside world – between the familiar and predictable, and the strange and potentially dangerous. The door may be used a tool of power and autonomy, as others are prevented or allowed to enter our domain. But ‘behind closed doors’ not only stands for privacy – it may also stand for concealment and confinement: the home is not always safe.
The door furniture is mostly of lacquered brass, fitted sometime before 2001, perhaps incorporating an attempt at ‘period’ style; but the usual wear to the finish – which, in theory, provided a traditional look, but without the effort of regular cleaning – detracts from the appearance, which is now somewhat shabby.

THE WINDOWS

Ground Floor Window
To the left of the facade is a 2 light sash window; although the two sliding frames are intact, the retention of original windows (some containing early, possible crown, glass) within many of the neighbouring properties indicate that an astragal (wooden glazing bar) previously divided the upper light into 18 panes, and the lower in two.  Above this window, more drastic changes have been made by the complete removal of the original sash window, and by its replacement by a two light, top hung, casement window. Fortunately, both windows retain their original stone sills.
First Floor Front Window
It may be presumed that these changes took place before Conservation restrictions were put in place: if new windows are to be fitted nowadays, they must replicate original style and (to some extent) materials. The insertion of ‘picture’ windows was common practice during the 1970s and 80s); although often seen as a step forwards aesthetically, one of the main reasons behind such a change was the ease of cleaning such windows, in comparison to those with many small panes of glass.[ix] Relationships between such acts of modernisation, and between changing gender roles and the increasing number of women that worked outside the home, might be conjectured.

THE CHIMNEY

From the top photo it can be seen that the original chimney stack remains, accompanied by possibly early chimney pots (as many houses in the street have the same type of pot, as can be seen from the second photo). This differs from many terraced houses, where pots are often removed, or replaced with cowls, as they are no longer needed, thanks to gas fires and central heating. The remaining chimneys and their pots place these terraced houses – like many thousands of Victorian (and earlier, and later) houses in Britain – in the contexts of British industry and technology. As a nation then with plentiful supplies of coal, this was the fuel of choice for industrial areas. But as notions of comfort, technology, and economies changed (which incorporated the effects of changing gender roles – as more women worked outside the home), other forms of heating became preferable, which, as noted, sometimes led to the transformation of chimneys.
The chimneys also give a clue as to the use of interior domestic space: their placement within fixed points in the home to a large extent determined use of each room. But other factors - economic circumstances, notions of ‘respectability‘, illness, and changing concept of ‘comfort’ - influenced how these facilities. This will be discussed further as we move through each room of the house in future posts. For now, external remains make it apparent that sources of heat were provided for the front and back rooms; the double chimney pots suggest that the rooms above were also served with fireplaces – although other evidence indicates that they were rarely used: this topic will be covered at a later date.

THE GUTTERING

Finally, the original cast iron guttering has been replaced during the later 20th century with plastic guttering – a cheaper, perhaps more easily maintainable, alternative, but not in keeping with the style of the house.
Guttering of No. 8 on the right

CONCLUSION

The narrow facade of No. 8, whilst seemingly demonstrating attempts at individuality, in exhibiting aesthetic choice, and in undertaking ‘modernisation’ in relationship to personal needs, these changes embody broad social relationships, political power, economic change, and technological developments. The process of change continues, as the house undergoes another decorative renovation. The interaction of individual, family, community and nation is writ upon the house, as are the different ways of life that each generation experienced.
If you have any information, memories, or photos to share that relate to the topic of this post, or have evidence for life in the past in your house, please contact the Project Director.

NOTES


[i] For mention of hanging baskets on working class houses in the early 20th century, see Foley 1977: 7; see also Upton 2001, fig. 62. Window boxes and plant pots on window sills may embody similar notions of pride, although occupants perhaps gained greater benefits from the blooms, which were often seen as ‘cheerful’ in the absence of a garden: see Layton (1977 [1931]: 2), though were also found on sills of houses with gardens (Upton 2001, see figs. 12, 25, 48, 62). Upton (2001, fig. 67) notes the establishment of a Window Gardening Society in Birmingham in 1904; boxes and pots were of course often the only option for tenement housing.
[ii] See Muthesius (1982: 55, 238), for a brief discussion of the development of associations between cleanliness and respectability, and of the role of whitening in social differentiation. Lime-wash had been used (being painted on exterior walls) during the 19th century in the belief that this would prevent contamination from infectious disease (see Upton 2001: 35, 85); this may have further associated notions of cleanliness with step whitening.
[iii] An example of a whitened step fronting a terraced (or back-to-back) house in Birmingham during 1904 can be seen in Upton 2010, fig. 65; however, a sign indicates that the house was occupied by a building contractor, and perhaps suggests middle-class pretensions, despite the ‘poor’ location. A photo that possibly shows a local example is in Palmer 1997: 91, though this may simply be due to very light stone, or the use of paint – it is in any case a local business (The Nottingham Castle Public House): ‘respectability’, and especially signs of cleanliness, were perhaps particularly necessary. Probable examples are in Palmer 1998: 77, top left (Bridge St.), and 118, top photograph, left (again Bridge St., 1930s). From most photos of local terraced houses, it appears that whitening, at least, was not as widespread or regular as memories might suggest; however, the possibility that step reddening is less easy to detect in early and poor quality black and white photographs and their reproductions remains. For an account of local practices, see Goodhead (1983: 26, 27); she mentions that, in the nearby West End, some cleaned and whitened their steps, but this was not universal. Mike Green (Green n.d.) mentions the step reddening; he goes on to describe the morning ritual of scrubbing and whitening (using pipe-clay) the front door step (and scrubbing an arc of pavement beyond the step) of two-bedroom terraces houses within inner-city Derby during the interwar period. Memories from outside Derby also record this task: in Kettering (Hankins 1999: 23); and in Liverpool.
[iv] There are records of men or more frequently, boys employed in domestic service undertaking this task (Thompson 2005: 77); but it remained predominantly ‘women’s work’, amongst those of the least tolerable kind.
[v] Step cleaning and whitening in the Edwardian Period is noted, e.g., in Arthur 2006: 198; Horn 2001: 12; Thompson 2005: 24. For the interwar and wartime periods (particularly in the context of domestic service) see: Dawes 1973: 84-5; Horn 2001: 181; see also Goodhead 1983, for local history. See also Muthesius 1982: fig. 27.
[vi] Pers. com. Mrs. H., Derby, 2011
[vii] For an Edwardian example, see Thompson (2005: 24); for testimony relating to ‘step girls’ in earlier decades, see Layton (1977 [1931]: 9).
[viii] See Muthesius 1982: fig. 28, for a more complete example. Due to erosion and heavy use, the bars sometimes needed replacing; this is mentioned in the late Victorian fictional Diary of a Nobody, by George and Weedon Grossmith, for example.
[ix] The somewhat risky techniques of window cleaning are outlined in Green (n.d.; see also Hankins 1999: 23)

WORKS CITED

Arthur, Max 2006 Lost Voices of the Edwardians
Dawes, Frank 1973 Not in Front of the Servants. Domestic Service in England 1850-1939
Foley, Winifred 1977 No Pipe Dreams for Father. Scenes from a Forest of Dean Childhood
Goodhead, Elsie Elizabeth 1983 The West End Story. Derby During the Depression. A Social and Personal History
Green, Mike n.d. Pre-War and Derby Memories
Hankins, Ken 1999 A Child of the Thirties
Horn, Pamela 2001 Life Below Stairs in the 20th Century
Layton, Mrs. 1977 [1931] ‘Memories of Seventy Years’, in Margaret Llewelyn Davies (ed.) 1931 Life As We Have Known It, by Co-operative Working Women, pp. 1-55
Muthesius, Stephan 1982 The English Terraced House
Palmer, Derek 1997 The Demolition of Derby
Palmer, Derek 1998 Westenders
Thompson, Paul 2005 The Edwardians. The remaking of British society
Upton, Chris 2010 Living Back-to-Back
Woolf, Virginia 1977 [1930] ‘Introductory Letter’, in Margaret Llewelyn Davies (ed.) 1931 Life As We Have Known It, by Co-operative Working Women, pp. Xvii-xxxxi

Sunday, 8 January 2012

Musings on 'women's work', poverty, and the complexities of historical interpretation. A 20th century almshouse case study

In my long overdue reading of The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, I'm encountering some useful details that inform family history, and link the latter to more general historical research.


One of my historical case studies (which I'd like to develop further, archaeologically) is a terrace of houses within Derby. 

Looking towards the bottom of the terrace (which ended in a high wall), with the pathway to the railway (now closed) marked by rendered wall on left
Photos of the terrace, taken in 2005. (Original C19 buildings demolished and replaced by the red brick buildings in the centre of the photo and below, centre right)


Looking from midway down terrace, towards the junction, from which the first photo was taken

The site of the first house of the terrace (which was located in the same position as the modern white gate). Note the prison wall at the back (where the silver car is parked), and prison tower beyond this
This street (primarily of 'two-up-two-down' houses) was built in the mid C19. The houses had front gardens and small back yards, with a small brick-built (& white-washed) wash-house & coal-house, and WC at right angle to the yard wall (facing that f the neighbouring property). By the 1930s, the external walls of the houses had been rendered. The garden of each house was usually separated from the next by a small fence or hedge. Every few houses, an 'entry' provided access to the rear yard (this would give about 1 yd. extra space to the bedrooms of some houses. Backing on to both Derby gaol (the perimeter wall forming the enclosing wall of the back yards to these buildings), and with the (Great Northern) railway station & goods buildings nearby, two possible sources of employment were open to the occupants - the former until the early 30s (in 1933, the gaol housed a greyhound stadium, which had (very noisy) - races every Wednesday and Saturday nights) & the latter until the 60s. 
Front garden, most likely Easter, 1970-71 (apologies for poor quality. Copyright restrictions apply: All rights reserved. Image will be removed on request of interested parties)
The front door opened onto a small (& from what I remember, quite dark) room, measuring c. 8'-9' x 10' (all the measurements are for the moment only approximate), with a fireplace (many with tiled surrounds installed between the 30s & 50s - mostly later) door leading to the kitchen.

The kitchen measured c. 8'-9' x 6-8', and had one door leading to the stairs, and one leading to the back yard. Each had a 'Belfast' sink and cold tap, beneath a rear window overlooking the yard; by the 60s, most had a small hot water boiler on the wall nearby. The kitchens were originally equipped with a cast iron cooking range, although many of these were replaced between the 1930s & 50s, by enamelled ranges, although by the end of the 60s, some had gas cookers. This room was just large enough for a small table and cupboard, and a tin bath, when in use (I have a memory of one family member taking a bath in front of the fire in their house in this terrace).

At the top of the stairs was a small landing (the size of the width of the doors and their frames). One door led to a bedroom above the kitchen; this had a small cupboard in the space above the stairs, and a window overlooking the yard & gaol / greyhound stadium. Another door opened onto the bedroom above the front room, which had a window overlooking the front garden.


A local almshouse charity brought this and adjoining rows, to provide residencies for 'poor' people of Derby (necessarily those fitting within the 'deserving' category, at least ostensibly - although inter-generational occupation seems to be very common). (I've still to determine the date when this charity took charge of these buildings- which will probably be quite an easy job, but I haven't yet had time to follow this up). A report by the charity, dating to 1970, was until recently available online, but the link seems to have gone. It reads:
“ALMSHOUSES AND ALMSPEOPLE.
33. Saving for existing almspeople and pensioners - Appointments of almspeople under this Scheme and application of income under the last preceding clause hereof shall be made without prejudice to the interests of the existing alrnspeople and pensioners of the Charity.
34. Almshouses - The almshouses belonging to the Charity and the property heretofore occupied therewith and the almshouses to be erected as aforesaid shall be appropriated and used for the residence of almspeople in conformity with the provisions of this Scheme.
35. Qualifications of almspeople - (1) The almspeople shall be poor persons of not less than 60 years of age who have resided in the area of benefit for not less than five years next preceding the time of appointment.
(2) If on the occasion of a vacancy there are no applicants qualified as aforesaid suitable for appointment the Trustees may appoint a person otherwise qualified as aforesaid who has resided in the County Borough of Derby for not less than five years next preceding the time of appointment to be an almsperson of the Charity.
37. Notice of vacancy. - No appointment of an almsperson shall be made by the Trustees until a sufficient notice of an existing vacancy specifying the qualifications required from candidates has been published by advertisement or otherwise so as to give due publicity to the intended appointment but it shall not be necessary to publish a notice if a vacancy occurs within twelve calendar months after the last notice of a vacancy has been published. Notices may be according to the form annexed hereto,
38.  Applications. - All applications for appointment shall be made in writing to the Trustees or their clerk in such manner as the Trustees direct. Before appointing any applicant to be an almsperson the Trustees shall require him or her to attend in person unless he or she is physically disabled or the Trustees are of opinion that special circumstances render this unnecessary. Every applicant must be prepared with sufficient testimonials and other evidence of his or her qualification for appointment.
39. Selection of almspeople. - Almspeople shall be selected only after full investigation of the character and circumstances of the applicants.
40. Appointments of almspeople. - Every appointment of an almsperson shall be made by the Trustees at a special meeting.
...
42. Absence from almshouses- The Trustees shall require that any almsperson who desires to be absent from the almshouses for a period of more than 24 hours shall notify the matron or the clerk of the Trustees and that any almsperson who desires to be absent for more than seven days at any one time or for more than 28 days in any one year shall obtain the prior consent of the Trustees.
43. Rooms not to be let. - No almsperson shall be permitted to let or part with the possession of the room or rooms allotted to him or her or except with the special permission of the Trustees to suffer any person to share the occupation of the same or of any part thereof.
...
RELIEF IN NEED.
47. Relief in need. - (1) The Trustees shall apply income of the Charity applicable under the head of relief in need in relieving either generally or individually persons resident in the area of benefit who are in conditions of need, hardship or distress by making grants of money or providing or paying for items, services or facilities (including apprenticeship premiums) calculated to reduce the need, hardship or distress of such persons.
(2) The Trustees may pay for such items, services or facilities by way of donations or subscriptions to institutions or organisations which provide or which undertake in return to provide such items, services or facilities.
...
51 . Charity not to relieve public funds. - The funds or , income of the Charity shall not be applied in relief of rates, taxes or other public funds.
...
FORM OF NOTICE.
...Notice is given that a vacancy exists for an almsperson of this Charity: Poor persons of not less, than 60 years of age who have resided in the area...as in 1547, for not less than five years next preceding the time of appointment are eligible- for appointment. In default of suitable applicants qualified as aforesaid, persons otherwise qualified who have resided elsewhere in the County Borough...for not less than five years next preceding the time of appointment, may be appointed. - Application for appointment must be made in writing to at on or before the 19 .
Every applicant must state his or her name, address, age and occupation and must be prepared to produce sufficient testimonials and other evidence of his or her qualification for appointment and unless physically disabled to attend in person."
These rules perhaps seem a little controlling, although in practice they don't seem to have been applied with much force: at this date, I lived there with my mother (her name appears in this document - at the time she was aged 26. Next to her name, in the 'gross yearly income' column - i.e. from rent - is £52.65).

Background: demographic information from family history and census (names have been withheld, for the privacy of surviving members of the family)

The reason that I've selected this is due to the availability of cartographic data in conjunction with both (family) oral history, and my own memories of this street - so, getting dangerously close to 'auto-archaeology')

Although I was born (in the late 60s) on the maternity wing of a local hospital, I came home to live in this street for several years, until it was demolished; my mother had lived in another (at different times, two) of the houses on the street, as had my grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-great-grandmother: my maternal family occupied the street for over 100 years; my uncle, aunt & cousins also lived in one house, and a great aunt in another. Consequently, I both remember the buildings, and have access to personal and social memories.
No.
Name
Relation to head of family
Condition as to marriage
Age last birthday

Profession or occupation
Employer, Worker, or own account
Where born

M F
4
Emma T.
Head
Wid.

72


Derbys.
Derby
Do.
Oscar A.
Adopted son
S
10



Do. Do.
Do.
Joseph M.
Boarder
Widr.
65

Living on own means

Do. Do.
5
Joseph M.
Head
M.
49

Railway Lampman (lighter)
Worker
Northants.
Peterborough
Do.
Harriet do.
Wife
M.
45


Derbys.
Derby
Do.
Margaret do.
Daur.
S.
25
Brushmaker
Worker
Do. Do.
Do.
Ethel do.
Daur.
S.
17
Cotton Seamer Hosr.
Worker
Do. Do.

1901 Census record of the houses occupied by the family. Harriet is daughter of Emma (& therefore Ethel's grandmother)
My great-grandmother (Ethel: born 1883, d. 1941) lived in this terrace. As the census indicates (if it's not mixing the work of Ethel with that of her sister), she worked as a cotton seamer. (This was perhaps in a nearby hosiery factory - there were several mills in the parish, one photographed here - although the machines seem to have produced seamless stockings, and it is noted that a small number of people continued home working into the 20th century.)


She married March 1913 (to a man several years her junior) & had 3 children - one of whom (born in the 20s) died in an road accident, aged 8. Her husband (a railway worker) abandoned her when the children were small, so she was forced to bring them up alone: she is listed in a local trade directory as 'char woman', but I'm informed by my mother that she was an accomplished seamstress (this was Ethel's mother's trade - reputedly for the adjacent prison), taking on work for Harrods; she is also said to have created window displays for the store. Either Ethel or her mother went to art school - unusual for women from this background at the time. My grandmother told me that her mother's middle name (Alvina) was given to remember the 'foreign' nurse who had cared for a factory-owning antecedent (see below) on his deathbed. I'm finding it quite tricky to find any evidence for these beliefs (I could conjecture that this could be explained by possible indicators of illegitimacy within earlier generations that I've encountered in the records)

In the garden of the terraced house. On the left: probably my grandmother’s sister; on the right: the youngest sister (who died, aged 8)


Ethel's older sister seemed to have had a better life (living nearby, but in a larger house, trading antiques) (I speculate as to the role that the birth of my grandmother only 4 months after her mother's marriage upon her deprivation in comparison to her older sister) - there was some small capital on he family, according to my grandmother, derived from links to a local mill-owner's family. (Again, I can only speculate that, if true, such ties were out of wedlock, as I've yet to find any indication of this in the census or other records.)


I'm informed that Ethel regularly scrubbed the steps of her more affluent sister; Ethel's relatively young death was reputedly as a result of kidney disease (which seems to be related to her hard life), although I'm also informed that she met her end dramatically, by falling downstairs (as she couldn't see very well?) & breaking her neck or bleeding to death.

Before or after grandparent's wedding, 1938. Outside the house of my grandmother, her sister, and her mother. Ethel is likely to be either the woman wearing white gloves, or the woman to her left (Copyright restrictions apply: All rights reserved. Image will be removed on request of interested parties)

With regard to material culture, I have a few artefacts that connect with the past: on my marriage in the late 80s, I was given (by my grandmother) a fragment of lace from 'a hundred year old wedding dress', which I believe was that of my great-great-grandmother Harriet, and which (if I'm remembering correctly) my grandmother carried on her own wedding day (as did I), as 'something old':

(Copyright restrictions apply: All rights reserved. Image will be removed on request of interested parties) 
This was given to me in a box from the time of my grandmother's wedding (1938), which had held a piece of wedding cake:
(Copyright restrictions apply: All rights reserved. Image will be removed on request of interested parties) 
I am told that my great grandmother had some 'fine' antique furniture, which was sadly destroyed in the floods of the 30s, as recorded here, in the Derby Evening Telegraph, dated Monday 23 May, 1932:

(Copyright restrictions apply: All rights reserved. Image will be removed on request of interested parties) 
The column to the left of the front page is headed Human Stories of Derby's Great Flood. The second section mentions the damage done to the terrace:

(Copyright restrictions apply: All rights reserved. Image will be removed on request of interested parties. Redaction may be removed in due course)

I was informed by my grandmother that this was one of the few remaining objects from her mother's collection (a mahogany mirror and drawer, that appears to date to the late Victorian - Edwardian period), presumably salvaged thanks to its location on the wall above the flood level. It is now in my possession, but has deteriorated over the years:


The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists and the seamstress at home in the early 20th century 

Bearing in mind my great-grandmother's history, the 's mention of home-working for women (particularly for seamstresses) in RTP is of particular interest & relevance: 
At first they had employed her exclusively on the cheapest kind of blouses-those that were paid for at the rate of two shillings a dozen, but they did not give her many of that sort now. She did the work so neatly that they kept her busy on the better qualities, which did not pay her so well, because although she was paid more per dozen, there was a great deal more work in them than in the cheaper kinds. Once she had a very special one to make, for which she was paid six shillings; but it took her four and a half days--working early and late--to do it. The lady who bought this blouse was told that it came from Paris, and paid three guineas for it. But of course Mrs Linden knew nothing of that, and even if she had known, it would have made no difference to her. Most of the money she earned went to pay the rent, and sometimes there was only two or three shillings left to buy food for all of them: sometimes not even so much, because although she had Plenty of Work she was not always able to do it. There were times when the strain of working the machine was unendurable: her shoulders ached, her arms became cramped, and her eyes pained so that it was impossible to continue. Then for a change she would leave the sewing and do some housework."
                                                                                        (2005 OUP edn., p. 325)
The descriptions of this character's work at home (a young widowed woman with a small young family) is consequently interesting with regard to the experiences of my grandmother & great grandmother, and their conditions, and vice verse.
However, in examining my family's past, a number of pieces of evidence come to light that might to some contradict social categorisations, and the apparent quality of life for 'the poor'; they certainly demonstrate the complexities and impact of social relationships upon material culture. There are occasional moments during which my grandmother was placed in better circumstances, which are closely related to the dynamics of the extended family: she appears to have benefited from spending much time with her maternal aunt, which gave her an interest in (and access to) better clothes and a social life (she very much enjoyed dancing). For instance, I have a studio photograph (on a postcard that bears the name of the Pollard Graham studio, Friar Gate, Derby, which is very similar to an example dating to 1920) of her as a girl that seems incompatible with poverty (she is wearing a velvet dress, which might be assumed to be a fabric for the wealthy); the cost of a studio photo seems out of the reach of a family headed by a 'char woman' (again, sorry for the quality of this photo).

However, the exact circumstances of this moment in time are lost to us - but it is of interest, as it doesn't seem representative of life within the terrace, as either described, or represented by the material remains. In considering the clothes, we may see a possible explanation within RTP, where we read that the son of the (poor) main character was made a velvet suit by his mother, from an old dress of her own. Ethel's and her mother's skills as seamstresses (and employment of the former in making what would have been expensive clothes, using fine materials) perhaps explains the origin of the clothes within this photo. But it is as likely that my grandmother borrowed these clothes, or was given them as 'hand-me-downs', perhaps from the more wealthy aunt.

This highlights the flexible & changing meaning and social significance of objects (in this case, fabrics), and demonstrates how we must take care to look beyond the context being studied - how we may do this archaeologically is another question, for another day (although it is suggested here that multi-scalar analysis is essential). Social networks are clearly very relevant when attempting to understand life (whether of the 'lower classes', as they were often called, or of those belonging to 'higher' socio-economic groups). Moments of 'good luck' (e.g. the receipt of small inheritances or gifts, or winnings from gambling or, e.g. school prizes) might also cloud the picture. An example comes from my grandfather's life: I'm informed by his sister that, when at school, he won a suit as a prize in a calligraphy competition.

The author of
 RTP, Tressell (Noonan), states that he draws upon fact for his novel; it is suggested that he used both his own experiences, those of others, and dramatised data obtained from a variety of sources. Therefore, this extract may reflect the conditions experienced by women just before the First World War (at the time of my great-grandmother's marriage and the birth of my grandmother), but not necessarily record the actual experiences of a known family. However, the novel was popular, at least in part, because it did accurately describe (and for some, expose) life for the poor at this time.

The census information reveals what to us may seem unusual: for instance, 'living on own means' often occurs in the records related to even the poorest houses. It also demonstrates that not everyone had large families at the time - a common assumption. The reason why my great-grandmother married is arguably self-evident given the social context and its moral codes, although I have yet to find the reasons behind her relatively late marriage (marriages during this period were, on average, much later than before or after, see Thompson, Paul 1992
 The Edwardians. The remaking of British society, 31, 33, but 29 seems particularly late). One thing that is clear from an examination of surviving artefacts in conjunction with texts (including literature - such as the RTP - and journalism - such as the books of Ada Chesterton: see earlier posts) is that the inhabitants of almshouses were not often the destitute with no other recourse, but were more frequently those with access to at least a few shillings a week to pay rent - however meagre in comparison to the rents commanded by private landlords. The almshouse occupant seems to have led a comparatively stable life, compared to many (comparisons can perhaps be made to those occupying local authority housing, although rents in this sector were commonly higher than those of almshouses).


It may seem to be stating the obvious to make these points, but they highlight the need to investigate social structures and institutional practices, so that we might explore - as fully as possible - seemingly 'out of place' objects and behaviour. Though we may rarely be certain of the causes of apparent contradictions within the historical record, these moments of contrast (that can coexist with and become integrated within 'normal' life over a long period of time) enable us to gain a more nuanced understanding of the past. In particular, they hold the potential to consider attempts at transforming social circumstances and identities (such as 'class'), and to question (supposedly?) aspirational practices.