One step from the workhouse - Ally Sherrick

My grandad – born into a working-class family in late Victorian England – led an eventful life. Sadly, I never got to hear about it first-hand as he died of ill-health brought on by his experiences as a gunner for the Royal Field Artillery in the First World War, 15 years before I was born. But one of the many stories my dad told us about him was that he had been born in a workhouse in Camberwell, south London. More recent research into our family tree has revealed that several of our other ancestors also spent time in workhouses during the course of their lives. 

        Workhouse record showing names of my grandad and great-grandmother

I remember learning something about the workhouse system and why it came into being in history lessons on the Industrial Revolution at school. First created through the enactment of the New Poor Law in 1834, three years before Queen Victoria came to the throne, it replaced the earlier ramshackle system of assistance or ‘poor relief’ for those who couldn’t work due to age or disability, in operation since Elizabethan times.

Victorian 'paupers' 

(Photo of original drawing in Southwell Workouse - Ally Sherrick)

Under the law, a network of hundreds of specially designed institutions were set up to give shelter to the poorest and most vulnerable in society. Commonly referred to as ‘paupers’ or ‘the destitute’, these were people who couldn’t afford to feed or clothe themselves and who would otherwise have ended up living, and in many cases dying, on the streets – forced to beg or else turn to a life of crime to support themselves. They included the unemployed, the elderly, unmarried mothers, women whose husbands had deserted them and people with physical or mental disabilities. In the absence of unemployment benefit, state pensions and the health and social care provided by the modern welfare state, unless they were granted money or help to continue living at home – ‘out-relief’ – the workhouse was their only recourse.

Elderly women workhouse inmates 

(Photo of original drawing in Southwell Workhouse - Ally Sherrick)

Workhouses were a contradictory blend of things. On the one hand they were designed to provide much needed support in the form of food, clothes and a roof over the head to those unable to look after themselves. But through their policy of separating families – wives from husbands, parents from children – and the heavily-supervised regime of dull routine and gruelling manual labour able-bodied inmates were expected to undertake – they were also intended to act as deterrents, discouraging people from regarding them as an alternative to employment and pushing them instead to do all they could to fend for themselves.

Gruelling manual labour was expected of all able-bodied inmates

(Photo of original drawing in Southwell Workhouse - Ally Sherrick)

Oakum-picking was a particularly tough job, often carried out by women inmates 

(Photo: Ally Sherrick)

Institutions were run by a Governor, or Master, and a Matron who was responsible for overseeing the women and children and ensuring the provision of nursing care. They reported to a committee of unpaid Guardians, elected by each parish from amongst local ratepayers, whose taxes funded the workhouse. Regional Inspectors would visit the workhouses on their patch to check they were abiding by the rules set out under the New Poor Law. Though many were well-run, there were sadly also examples of inmates, like poor Oliver Twist and his friends in CharlesDickens’ novel of the same name, being badly treated and insufficiently fed, plus instances of staff corruption too. A combination of factors – the general stigma associated with having to go into a workhouse in the first place, the loss of independence and tough conditions once inside, and stories of harsh treatment and brutality – meant that most people regarded them as a place of last resort, to be avoided at all costs.

(Photo: Ally Sherrick)

Family ancestry research has revealed that like Oliver Twist, my grandad was born in a workhouse to an unmarried mother – my great-grandmother – who was admitted when she was in labour at the age of 17 years. In late Victorian England, to fall pregnant when you were unmarried was frowned upon and meant that you risked being cast out into the world by your family with no means of support. My great-grandmother’s own mother had died when she was tiny, and for her, it seems that seeking admission to the workhouse infirmary to give birth was probably the only real option to get the help and care she needed. The records suggest that she was in the workhouse for less than a month and then left – presumably with my grandad. We don't know where they went after. Perhaps back to the family. But if they had stayed longer, what would life have been like for them as inmates? Last summer I had the chance to find out on a visit to an incredible survivor from those times.

Main entrance to Southwell Workhouse and Infirmary (Photo: Steve Smith)

Southwell Workhouse in Nottinghamshire, now in the care of the National Trust, is one of the earliest and most complete examples of a 19^th century workhouse to survive in the country. Largely unaltered from its original construction in 1824, it provided the prototype for all other workhouses under the New Poor Law system.

Workhouse rules 

(Photo: Ally Sherrick)

Visitors today can explore all aspects of workhouse life from the work rooms, exercise yards and dormitories used by the inmates, to the infirmary – where the sick were cared for and women, like my great-grandmother gave birth – and staff quarters. I could easily write a whole series of blogs on what I discovered on my visit, but as space is tight, here are just a few insights into what it was like to be a child inmate.

Inmates slept in shared dormitories 

(Photo: Ally Sherrick)

You may be admitted with your parents after they sought financial help from the parish, or else as an orphan or because you’d been abandoned – a sad reality for many children born into poverty in those days. Or maybe, like my grandad, you ended up being born there because your mother couldn’t get medical attention or support anywhere else. On admission, your clothes and any other belongings you might have with you would be confiscated, fumigated and stored away to be returned to you when you were eventually discharged. In their place you were given a workhouse uniform, usually made of coarse blue cloth.

Kept apart and sorted out

If you were admitted with siblings, you might be allowed to stay together, depending on your age. But if arriving with your parents, you would be separated from them since all able-bodied adults capable of work but who weren’t in a job (known in Victorian times as the ‘undeserving poor’) were regarded as a bad influence, including on their own offspring!

Your parents could request to see you, on a fixed day of the week, and always under the supervision of the Master or Matron in charge.

Like the adult inmates, children were divided into classes. These were:

·        Boys aged 7-12 years (later 7-15 years)

·        Girls aged 7-15 years

·        Children under 7

A strict timetable

Just as for the adults, you would be expected to follow a strict timetable. You would get up with the rising bell (6am in the summer, an hour later in winter), put on your uniform, get washed, make your bed and empty your chamber pot. Prayers and breakfast would be followed by lessons in the classroom. Dinner was served at 12 noon with time for recreation followed by work-related training in the afternoon. This was followed by supper at 6pm with a little more time for recreation, then prayers and bed at 8pm. Sunday was a day of rest as were Good Friday and Christmas Day.

Laundry work was carried out by women and girls 

(Photo: Ally Sherrick)

Reading, writing and arithmetic

As a child inmate you had one advantage over other working-class children in the early days of the workhouse system at least, receiving a basic formal education long before it became compulsory in wider society. If you were under seven, you would be taught in mixed classes. If older, you would find yourself in a class of either boys or girls taught by a school master or mistress. The main subjects, taught for three hours each morning, were basic arithmetic, reading and writing with religious instruction given by a chaplain. 

(Photo: Ally Sherrick)

In the afternoon, you could expect to be given ‘industrial training’ – most likely gardening for the boys and needlework, cookery or working in the laundry for the girls. In this way, the thinking went, you would be better equipped on leaving to find employment, whether in domestic service or working in a factory or on the land. And the authorities hoped, less likely to end up back inside the workhouse again.

Food, but not so glorious …

Breakfast was a simple meal of bread and gruel – a type of thin porridge.

Dinner – the lunchtime meal – was usually made up of boiled meat, peas and potatoes or else soup or suet pudding with portions carefully weighed out according to the age category of the child – so the youngest children got the smallest amount of food.

Supper was a repeat of breakfast – with bread and more of that tasty gruel!

This sort of fare might sound boring by our modern standards but, provided the workhouse was well run and the inmates were given what they were entitled to, it was a reasonably well-balanced diet, though perhaps a little lacking in Vitamin C.

The only variation in the menu was on Christmas Day when you could look forward to a meal of roast beef and plum pudding.

The end of the workhouse

The Poor Law was brought to an end in 1929 and workhouses – now known as ‘institutions’ – passed into the care of local authorities. Any children remaining in them were moved to specialist homes though unfortunately this meant they often saw their parents even less than they had before. Things changed again with the introduction of the Welfare State in 1948 and many former workhouses became state hospitals in the new National Health Service.

As for the workhouse infirmary in Camberwell my grandad was born in, it is now a smart-looking residential apartment block, something he would find hard to conceive of I’m sure. 

Workhouse stories

Besides Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist, the experience of children in workhouses has also been brought to life by a number of brilliant children’s authors writing in more recent times. Two of my favourites are:

Street Child by Berlie Doherty about a young boy called Jim Jarvis who is carted off to the workhouse with his sick mother. After her tragic death, Jim escapes and ends up in further peril on the streets of Victorian London.

TheTwisted Threads of Polly Freeman by Pippa Goodhart which charts the life of a young girl called Polly, sent to a London workhouse after she and her ‘Aunt’ – a thief – are evicted and made homeless. From there it follows Polly on a journey to Quarry Bank Cotton Mill in Cheshire where she is sent to become a mill-girl apprentice.

(Photo: Ally Sherrick)

Writing Challenge

Imagine you have been forced to enter the workhouse for the first time. Ask yourself these questions:

Why did you have to go there?

Have you come in with your parents? What do you feel about being separated from them if you have? And what about your brothers and sisters?

What are your first impressions of the place? Think about things like the strict rules and routines; the lack of privacy and having to share sleeping quarters; the sort of food you’re given to eat. What do you make of having to go to school? Perhaps it’s for the first time? And what sort of work are you given to do in the afternoons? Are the Master and Matron kind to you, or do they make things a whole lot worse like they did in Oliver Twist?

Do you miss your life outside the workhouse, even though it must have been hard. And do think you might try and run away? Or is it better to stay where you’ll have a roof over your head, food to eat and the chance to learn how to read and write?

Write your thoughts down, then have a go a turning them into the start of a story, a diary or perhaps a comic strip.  Happy writing!  

Ally outside Southwell Workhouse and Infirmary

(Photo: Steve Smith)

Source material for information on the New Poor Law and life in a workhouse comes from 'The Workhouse Southwell' Guidebook published by National Trust.

Ally Sherrick is the award-winning author of stories full of history, mystery and adventure.

BLACK  POWDER, her debut novel about a boy caught up in the Gunpowder Plot, won the  Historical Association’s Young Quills Award. Other titles include THE BURIED CROWN, a wartime tale with a whiff of Anglo-Saxon myth and magic and THE QUEEN’S FOOL, a story of treachery and treason set at the court of King Henry VIII. Ally’s latest book with Chicken House Books, is VITA AND THE GLADIATOR, the story of a young girl’s fight for justice in the high-stakes world of London’s gladiatorial arena. It has been shortlisted for a Young Quills Award.

For more information about Ally and her books visit www.allysherrick.com  You can also follow her on Twitter @ally_sherrick

Finding stories in old places - tips from author Jeannie Waudby

For as long as I can remember, old buildings have filled me with a longing to know who lived there before. Very often, there is no way of knowing, and for me this meant trying to think up their story for myself.

I grew up on a little island in Hong Kong. It had been taken to be a leprosy treatment centre and most of the buildings were built in the 1950s. But the old ones, from hundreds of years ago, always fascinated me. As a child, I thought that the people had left long ago – whereas in fact they had to leave not long before the hospital was built.

Jetty valley

One of the oldest buildings was a little temple. It’s the tiniest building at the bottom of this picture in the middle, near the steps.

Then there were the graves. These were beautiful white tombs, shaped like the moon, always on a hillside. I wondered whose graves they were, and what their lives had been like on this island that was home to us now. The tombs made a deep impression on me so that years later, when I was studying art, they slipped into my pictures.

Moon grave

This woodcut shows a tomb with some burial pots. Most of the tombs were in the emptier part of the island where it was wild and grassy.

And in this watercolour the tomb is on the left, looking over the sea towards a neighbouring island.

Hillside tomb

Although we lived in Hong Kong, every few years we visited the UK, which to me was a huge exciting foreign land. On my first visit we travelled by ocean liner because planes were still very expensive. I remember the journey well even though I was little. It took one month, and one of the places we visited was Pompei. I recall arches, painted walls and the fact that life had stopped suddenly and tragically here because of a volcano.

When we went to the Highlands, where my mother came from, I felt at home straight away. To me, the mountains and sea felt just like the ones back home in Hong Kong. Even the rocks on the shore had the same yellow lichen and green seaweed, like hair. But I did get to see something I had never seen before: castles.

Eilean Donan

This aquatint shows Eilean Donan Castle and the Five Sisters of Kintail, with my impression of the light beaming onto the loch. A house where we often stayed had a cannon ball in the fireplace, from a battle long ago that left the castle in ruins.

Later, when I was older, my dad, who was English, would take us to visit famous historical places in England: the Tower of London, a Roman villa, the Victory warship and the wonderful Roman baths which you could still have a warm dip in if it was allowed. Inside the Victory, I smelt for the first time the sharp tang of centuries-old wood. To me it felt as if stories were humming just below the surface of the walls.

 

I started writing novels when I was a child, although I didn’t ever finish them. This is the first page of one I started when I was 11. It was set in England in the nineteenth century because we had just come back from the UK and while we were there, we stayed in a flat in a Victorian house.

For me, old places have always been doorways to stories.

Ickworth

Writing Prompt

When I am somewhere old, I can never shake off the possibility that it might turn out to be a time machine… and where would it take me? Think of an old building or place that you know. If it was a time machine, where would it take you? Who would you be? What would you be doing there? Would there be a hidden danger? 

 

One Of Us by Jeannie Waudby is a YA thriller/love story, published by Chicken House. It was shortlisted for the Bolton Children's Fiction Award and the Lancashire Book of the Year 2016 and has been adapted by Mike Kenny as a play in the Oxford Playscripts series.
One Of Us is published by Chicken House
The Oxford Playscripts play is published by Oxford University Press

 

For more information about Jeannie and her books visit her website.

 

The Chessmen Thief: Action scenes and how to write them - by Barbara Henderson

Viking stories are exciting, aren’t they? All that fighting and pillaging and exploring. And who doesn’t love a Viking ship? Sleek and iconic, we tend to think of them as pulling into some bay or harbour and wreaking havoc in nearby villages and settlements. We sometimes forget that they were also often attacked by others at sea – they definitely lived a dangerous life! One of the great things about historical fiction is that the stakes are often so high – with no rescue service, or hospitals, or mobile phones. Basically, life was a lot more dangerous in the centuries gone by.

 

A viking ship (Illustration by Annie Glennie)

When my Viking book The Chessmen Thief was sent off to the printers, I asked my editor: ‘Now that we’re done, can you tell me – which part of the book do you actually like best?’

She thought for a moment. ‘The action scenes,’ she answered simply.

‘Me too.’

It’s true: a memorable action scene works like a quick turbocharge of energy, giving your story new momentum.

I am not suggesting that I am an expert at all – there are far more talented and experienced authors for children around. But I am more than happy to share what I have learned so far. Ladies and gentlemen, for what it’s worth, here is how an action scene should work. I am drawing on chapters 13 and 14 of The Chessmen Thief to show what I mean. 😊

To give you some context, Kylan (my slave boy and protagonist) is on a Viking longship sailing from Norway to Scotland with his boss, Jarl Magnus.

Step 1: You need one or two sentences of calm atmosphere. Then introduce the threat.

When the wind picks up and carries us in the exact direction we want to go, we step away from the oars and relax. I climb the first level of the mast where I like it the best. No one judges me there or asks me questions.

Until I see it in the distance. Unmistakeable: another vessel, making straight for us.

 

 The Chessmen pieces at the British Museum that inspired my book

Step 2: Take a moment to describe your character’s reaction. It works best if the other characters do not recognise the danger. This technique is called dramatic irony – the reader understands more than most of the characters do, which makes for great tension.

My stomach tumbles and my lungs do something they have never done before: refuse to inhale and exhale. Instead, a strange kind of panting is all I am capable of, with the weight of all the oceans in the world on my heart.

‘Raiders!’ I shout, but all that emerges from my throat is a croak. The men below are singing and sharing a quick horn of ale before their muscle power is required again. ‘Raiders!’ I yell, a little louder, but still no one pays me any heed.

Step 3: Crank up the jeopardy. The reader needs to understand what is at stake.

As the ship approaches, I can see the straggly beards of men who have lived long apart from any kind of company. Their swords are rusty but sharp. There are spears, axes and halberds, and all manner of weapons.

At the front, almost leaning over the hull of their galley, are three raiders with coils of rope around their bodies, ready to throw weighted hooks across—and only now do I see what the front of their ship is made of! It’s not water glistening on the wood—it is reinforced with iron spikes, and they mean to ram us! ‘TURN THE SHIP!’ I yell down with all my might.

Step 4: Give your protagonist something to do.

Suddenly, I am pulled off my feet backwards, the huge hand of the Jarl on my shoulder. ‘Here, boy!’ He thrusts something into my hand, slicing into my palm a little as he does: a dagger, and oh Lord, it is sharp!

The beautiful Isle of Lewis where the chessmen were found

Step 5: The best action scenes have a brave protagonist.

With a terrible clang, a huge metal hook lands over the side of our ship, a rope attached. It tautens almost immediately: the raiders are pulling our ship towards theirs, weapons in hand.

Our men scatter and take refuge, but something possesses me to do exactly the opposite. Darting to avoid the missiles and arrows, I run towards the hooks and slash at the rope attaching the ships to one another.

Number 6: You can’t beat a cliffhanger.

With a final gasping effort, this rope, too, snaps. The enemy ship is only two horse-lengths away. Soon a warrior of strength and stature will be able to jump. Oh no: they are readying themselves!

But then something happens that I have not foreseen. Behind me, there is a commotion; a box is knocked over, heavy footfalls thud on the deck. And then, right past me, Jarl Magnus raises his shield as he runs, mounts the gunwale and, literally, leaps into the air over the whirling waves.

Number 7: Know when to stop.

Relentless action scenes can be exhausting to read. Follow any action scene with a chapter or so of calm – your readers need a break. Let them have it! Once everyone is safe, my protagonist Kylan is going to spend the next chapter learning to play chess!

Writing Task:

Now have a go at writing your own action scene set on a Viking ship. It doesn’t have to be an attack – how about a storm, or a whirlpool, or a shipwreck? Plenty more dangers to invent. I’d love to see what you come up with!

The Chessmen Thief is a Viking adventure inspired by the iconic Lewis Chessmen which you can see at the British Museum, The National Museum of Scotland and The Museum nan Eilean on the Isle of Lewis. The famous hoard of walrus-ivory-carved chess pieces was found in the Outer Hebrides in 1831, but the figures were likely carved in Trondheim in Norway during the second half of the 12^th Century. If they came to Scotland soon after, they are likely to have travelled by sea in a Viking/Norse ship. Some Viking ships actually survive to this day and can be viewed in a museum in Oslo.

Barbara's books are published by Cranachan. They are available from bookshops and online retailers.

 

Barbara Henderson

For more information about Barbara's books visit barbarahenderson.co.uk

Follow Barbara @scattyscribbler 

 

 

 

 

 

How the Blackpool Illuminations proved a lightbulb moment for author Susan Brownrigg

  

Last Friday was the annual Blackpool Illuminations Switch-On. This year they event took place in the Blackpool Tower Ballroom, with Strictly Come Dancing judge, Shirley Ballas turning on the ‘Lights.’

As a proud Lancastrian, I have happy memories of visiting the world-famous Illuminations. But I didn’t realise what a long and fascinating history they had!

When I discovered that in 1935, a fifteen-year-old girl had been invited to switch on the lights, I knew I had the spark for my debut children’s book, Gracie Fairshaw and the Mysterious Guest. 

Postcard (1930) showing Blackpool Illuminations and the Tower with light beam.

 

Nowadays, the Illuminations are spread over six miles of lights and stay on for four months rather than the traditional six weeks.

But they had a more humble beginning. Back in 1879 the corporation (council) paid the equivalent of £5000 for eight arc lamps along the seafront. These electric lights were so astounding that people christened the effect ‘artificial sunshine.’ Imagine how striking the lights must have been compared to the candlelight and oil lamps in people’s homes!

Electric light was then used to mark two special royal events in Blackpool - in 1897 they were added to five tram cars to mark Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. Then, in 1912, 10,000 lights were strung around the promenade to celebrate the town’s first ever royal visit when Queen Victoria's daughter, Princess Louise, opened Princess Parade – a new section of the promenade. The attraction was so popular it was repeated the following September and would likely have been repeated annually but for the outbreak of World War 1.

The Illuminations returned in 1925, bigger and better than ever. As well as the traditional festoon, there were now ‘animated tableaux’ – pictures created out of lightbulbs (known as lamps) that when turned on and off in sequence gave the illusion of movement.

Blackpool Illuminations postcard, showing North Shore Gardens

 with festoon and fluted pylons.

The idea of a special guest turning on the Lights, didn’t happen until 1934. Lord Derby performed the honour in that year. But then, looking down the list of later hosts, which included many famous names, I saw a name I did not recognise: Audrey Mosson.

My research revealed that Audrey, was a 15-year-old girl from Blackpool. How had she come to turn on the lights, I wondered?

Blackpool's History Centre, in Central Library, provided the answer. They have back copies of the Lancashire Gazette on microfiche and I was able to use these old fashioned machines to turn back time to 1935!

Microfiche reader at The History Centre, Blackpool (author's photo)

The Gazette explained that the Mayor of Blackpool – Alderman George Whittaker – had been all set to perform the honour that year. But an appointment in his diary changed history.

Just days before the Switch-on he met the newly crowned Railway Queen - Miss Elsie 'Audrey' Mosson.

Alderman Whittaker told the Gazette: "Miss Mosson is a charming girl, with a frank and vivacious disposition - and I thought it would be very appropriate for this to be her first official duty as Queen."

Further research revealed that Audrey had recently been crowned Railway Queen in front of a crowd of thousands at Belle Vue, Manchester. She was a ‘Queen of Industry’ attending functions across the country (and even Russia!)

Inspired by May Queens, the first Railway Queen was chosen in 1925. Other industries followed suit – among them Cotton, Coal, Wool and Silk Queens being crowned.

I was curious as to what Audrey had looked like. But the Gazette only featured this cartoon image.

Audrey Mosson cartoon (Blackpool Gazette)

Fortunately I was able to track down a photograph of Audrey at the Switch-on online. When I saw her wonderful tiara - I knew my mystery plot would include a plan to try and steal this beautiful piece of jewellery. My main character - Gracie Fairshaw - would thave to foil the plot - and would call upon Audrey to help!

And I was even more thrilled when I learned that a Yorkshire museum was holding an exhibition about Queens of Industry. Imagine my delight when I was able to see Audrey's beautiful blue velvet gown with trail and gold tassels along with her chain of office and tiara in person!

 Audrey Mosson's gown and tiara at the Queens of Industry 

exhibition (author's photo.)

There is one extra nice fact I found out about Audrey and the Illuminations - she has actually been a Switch-on host twice! The only person to have that honour.

She was invited back in 1985, 50 years after her original duty, with actress Joanna Lumley.

 

Audrey Mosson (right) with Joanna Lumley at the Illuminations 

Switch-on in 1985. Her second time turning on the 

world-famous lights. (Blackpool Gazette)

 

Discussion points for teachers/parents :

 

Blackpool became especially popular with the creation of Wakes Weeks - unpaid holiday given to workers in industrial towns, especially in the north. Each town would have a different week, with the mills and factories in the town all closing at the same time. Many families chose to visit the seaside, and Blackpool was incredibly popular. 

 

Why do you think families wanted to get away to the coast, and what attractions could they look forward to? 

 

Do any of the attractions from the 1930s still exist in Blackpool today? Why are they still popular?

 

There have been 74 Switch-on hosts (there was no Switch-on during WW2) including politicians, ambassadors, royals, sporting stars, TV presenters, TV and film stars, comedians, disc jockeys, singers and bands.

Those invited to perform the Switch-on duty often reflects the times, for example in 1976 Miss United Kingdom, 1982 the Royal Navy Rear Admiral Sandy Woodward who played a leading role in the Falklands War and in 2020 a group of NHS heroes performed the duty.

Among the more unusual hosts were puppets - Kermit the Frog and the Muppets in 1979 and a horse – the triple Grand National Winning Red Rum in 1977.

Who would you choose to switch on the Illuminations in 2022? Why? What might go wrong and how could they save the day?

 

Gracie Fairshaw and the Mysterious Guest by Susan Brownrigg is an historical novel for 9-12 year olds set in Blackpool, 1935. A sequel, Gracie Fairshaw and the Trouble at the Tower (also featuring Audrey Mosson) is published October, 2021.

Susan's books are published by Uclan Publishing. They are available from bookshops and online retailers.

 

Susan Brownrigg (author's photo)

For more information about Susan's books visit susanbrownrigg.com

Follow Susan at @suebmuseum