Dorothy Robson

On a pretty bench, in a peaceful park overlooking the Castle Gatehouse in Morpeth, a statue of Emily Wilding Davison sits in contemplation of the busy little town. Morpeth’s famous daughter, her name synonymous with the right to vote and the fight for equality, Emily’s ultimate sacrifice is a powerful symbol of the fight for women’s emancipation. But I often think they should have made that bench a little bit bigger – just enough to accommodate another statue – a neat little woman, dressed in a trim 1930’s suit with a look of determination in her eye. That look of determination belongs to Dorothy Robson, another formidable daughter of Morpeth. She and Emily would have had much to discuss on that park bench, both passionate for justice, both active in their desires for social change. But when it comes to famous Northumbrian ladies, Dorothy is much overlooked against Emily’s daring deeds for suffrage, or the heroic imagery of Grace Darling rowing out in the storm. Even Cissie Charlton, with that twinkle in her eye and a football at her feet, gets more of a shout-out than Dorothy. But Dorothy was a pioneering force in clearing slums and reforming public health. Her extensive memoirs, held in the Archives, record her selfless efforts to help those in poverty and need. This month Northumberland Archives have been remembering the important women in our local history, so I thought it would be nice to take an admiring look into the life of this adopted Northumbrian lady, who did so much to improve the lives of working class people in and around Morpeth in the middle decades of the last century.

In our time we see a very sanitised version of Morpeth. A beautiful little town, bursting with character and a feeling of quiet affluence. Yet not 100 years ago, just off the main streets, Morpeth was a series of crowded old alleyways where families lived in poverty and squalor. Where we now shop in the elegant Sanderson’s Arcade for tasty treats at Marks and Spencer’s, the latest fragrance from the Body Shop or yet another pair of shoes from Clarks, in her day appalling slums seethed with deprivation and want. Well into the 30’s, Morpeth still had a workhouse of Dickensian awfulness. Dorothy saw it….and Dorothy was not having it!

She was an unlikely candidate to lead the fight into improving lives for south-east Northumberland’s working poor. Born into a middle-class family in 1900 and spending her sheltered formative years in a comfortable and conservative Sheffield home, Dorothy had not been prepared for the conditions and hardships of everyday life in a Northumbrian colliery town. When she followed Jim Robson, a young miner who had caught her eye, back to his Ashington home to begin their married life at the age of 19, she walked slap-bang into the turmoil and adversity of the National Strike in 1921 and the General Strike of 1926. The suffering endured by mining families in these years ignited a desire to fight for better in Dorothy. She joined the Labour Party, with which she had a long, complex and often difficult relationship. No one should underestimate the determination of this young woman to stand up to the expectations of the day – miner’s wife, poor, ‘know thy place’ – and take on the local political class who she felt did not represent those who had the greatest need – the poor, the sick, the powerless.

In time Dorothy’s family moved from the mining village of Pegswood to Morpeth and Dorothy found the plight of the town’s poor even more shocking then that of the collieries. This article does not intend to comment on the politics of the day too deeply, but Dorothy’s memoirs are clear – she felt the authority was indifferent and neglectful of the poor of Morpeth who lived in terrible slum conditions, lacking the most basic of amenities such as clean water and hygienic privies, sharing their squalid living space with rats and pigeon muck.

Dorothy’s political career saw her championing a range of social issues, lobbying and petitioning to clear the Morpeth slums, to build new social housing, to improve sanitation and provide basic health services such as a public ambulance, antenatal services and child health care. Dorothy stood for election seven times, finally succeeding in 1939 as the first female and the first Labour Councillor for Morpeth Borough Council.

Her memoirs are pitted with adversity, disappointment and the hostility of those that sought to obstruct her fight for social reform, but the one thing that shines through from her recollections is her unshakable need to serve, and her tireless desire to see justice and equality in a community for which she cared deeply. In the end misogynism, class prejudice and good old political machinations forced Dorothy out of the Morpeth Labour Party she had helped to create. She lost her place on the council in 1947 but remained active in local politics for the majority of her life, serving on a number of local committees and baring witness to the redevelopment of the Morpeth’s slums that she had fought so bitterly to bring about. Dorothy died in 1984 and her memoirs, written between 1965 and 1977 are held in the County Archives as a testament to a time and place where the alleys and yards of Morpeth where not just the reside of pleasant retail outlets and cosy cafes.

Archive reference – NRO 10818 – DOROTHY ROBSON OF MORPETH, NORTHUMBERLAND: MEMOIRS. 1965-1977.

Women in Domestic Service

Towards the end of the nineteenth century servanthood was the largest employer of women; the 1881 census records almost 1.6 million women employed in domestic service (indoors) representing 35% of the working female population aged 10 and upwards.  Although by 1911 this had decreased slightly to 28%; service remained the largest single employer of women in the UK.  The real percent may be even higher as this figure excludes charwomen, laundry workers or those classed as ‘farm servants’ who certainly had some domestic duties to undertake.   

The rise in the number of domestic servants in the Victorian era had mirrored the rise of the middle classes.  So much so that many social commentators of the time began referring to the ‘servant problem’, referring to the difficulty some families were having finding suitable employees.  For women it was regarded as a respectable profession and training ground for marriage.  Upon marriage, women would then dedicate themselves to running their own household and raising their children. 

Working in domestic service was a very tiring job; hours were long and irregular; tasks were generally manual and often lonely.  Working conditions remained largely unchanged for decades, and those employed may have feared being replaced if they complained about working conditions.   

The working day would typically start about 6-7 am, doing maybe 3 hours work before breakfast.  Days would end when the family members retired for bed; if they were entertaining this would be late.  Working days could be 12-15 hours long.  Daily duties would begin with cleaning out fireplaces, fetching coals, re-lighting fires and taking hot water to the bedrooms – this was often done by a housemaid; the youngest often got the dirtiest and heaviest jobs to do.  The day would often end in a similar way, preparing hot water bottles, turning down bed covers and ensuring hot water was available.  In between would be a routine of cleaning and following orders.  Time off was limited, often it was expected that servants would attend church, walk family dogs or sew to repair clothes…so it wasn’t really time off at all.  Holidays were less frequent, an expense that was simply unaffordable for the majority, returning home once a year was considered a treat. 

Those ‘girls’ working in larger homes, on estates or for the aristocracy would have had undoubtedly a different experience to a maid working as the only live in ‘help’ in a middle-class home.  Larger households would have a range of servants with different and specific roles to play in the running of the household.   Often servants were divided into upper and lower or under servants.  Upper servants would have more responsibility or possibly directly have served the family they worked for.  Female upper servants would include a housekeeper, lady’s maid, possibly a cook.  Female under servants included a huge range of maids; housemaids, parlour-maids, still-room maids, kitchen maids, laundry maids.  Overseeing the management of the household would be the housekeeper, quite often the feared matriarch.  Servants were expected to know their place within the structure, and know what they were there to do.  Mrs. Keaney in her oral history testimony (held at Northumberland Archives) as a Head-Housemaid at Linden House talks about the Housekeeper having a store cupboard that was opened once daily, that was the only opportunity she had to get whatever supplies were needed for the day. 

The interest in obtaining a real insight into day-to-day life and routine for those employed in domestic service has maybe increased as a result of television programmes like Downton Abbey and range of books published as memoirs to a time in service.  From an archival point of view, estate papers often hold information, although typically from the ‘family’ perspective.  Financial records can hold details of wages, household expenditure and management of staff, receipts can indicate who had the responsibility to place orders with local traders.  Correspondence can provide a view of daily routines but also a rarer glimpse into the personal nature of relationships between the family and household staff.  Amongst the papers for Ewart Park, Wooler, for example, correspondence relating to wedding preparations includes a letter from Mia (daughter of Horace St. Paul and Jane Grey, preparing for her marriage to George Grey Butler) noting that she had scrubbed a table, Jane [a servant/lady’s maid] ‘shook her head on the destruction to my hands’, but Mia notes that her servants had their full amount of work, and that the table had to be scrubbed.  Photographs may show family members surrounded by staff wearing their uniform or livery proudly.   Oral histories can tell not just the life below stairs, but also what it was like to be a family member in charge of the household with less experience than the cook who had looked after the family much longer!  These different types of resources are able to give the viewer a greater insight into the lives of women in history. 

Berwick Advertiser, 4 March 1921

SALMON PLENTIFUL

With a continuance of the remarkably fine weather conditions, the good catches of salmon on Tweed fishings have been well maintained during the ten days that have elapsed since the operations were commenced for the season, making the 1921 opening the most favourable in recent years. Whether this luck continues throughout the season is yet to be determined, but it is certain that the fish are in the river in a greater abundance than they have been for years. The catches have been pretty equally distributed over the fisheries, an equally good return coming from the higher reaches as from the fisheries at the river-mouth. Even Crab Water, where fishing is as a rule poor at this time of year, has had good catches, landing over thirty salmon in one day. The fish are all young salmon, not large in size, but of excellent quality and appearance. Trout are not quite so plentiful. The price quoted for salmon this week is 2s 5d per lb, having fallen during the week from 3s on the opening days. No prices are quoted for trout. 

Pictured above is the former Crabwater fishery at the corner of Berwick Pier. On the opening of the salmon net fishing season in 1921, Crabwater had an exceptionally good start with catches up on previous years. REF: BRO 1944-1-5-1

During the past quarter of a century there have been few such auspicious openings. In 1895 the weather conditions were not favourable, as the Tweed between Chain Bridge and Carham for about 16 miles was frozen over, making fishing impossible in the upper reaches, though the fishermen endeavoured to break up the ice with hammers. When, however, the ice broke up and the river-mouth was cleared, the catches were good, and the price was 1s 6d per pound – as low a figure as had been reached for many years. For the next ten years the openings were generally poor, and although the weather conditions were open, the catches were scanty. In 1905, in a spell of fine open weather, there was a very good opening, and with a good load of fish in the river, as many as 100 salmon were landed in one area at the opening tide. Although prices had averaged from 2s to 2s 2d per lb for the previous ten years, this run of luck reduced the prices to 1s 11d.  

With an improving foreign market, the demand for fish is keen, though supplies asked for from the Continent are not so great as in pre-war days, when a large export trade was done from Tweed with Paris and Boulogne. 

HINTS FOR THE HOME

Piano keys which have turned yellow can be whitened by the following method. Rub the keys with lemon juice, and while still damp polish with a cloth dipped in whiting or prepared chalk. Don’t let this get between the keys. 

If a fire is needed in the bedroom, the time taken in lighting if often sufficient to do away with the good it gives. Gas fumes are bad for a sleeping person, but an electric radiator can be switched on in a second and turned off directly the need for it has disappeared. 

Brass lids of fruit bottles often get stuck. Drop a little salad oil between the bottle and the lid with the aid of a feather, and then place the bottle about 18 inches from the fire. After the heat has caused the oil to run round the edge of the lid, a slight tap will release the lid. 

Custard will curdle if you cook it too long or at too high temperature. A boiled custard should be cooked until it coats at the back of the spoon, and the water should not boil but be kept hot. A baked custard is tried with a knife, and if the knife comes out clean the custard is cooked, even if it is not brown. 

MARCH HIRING

Belford

There was quite a good attendance at the annual hiring market for farm servants at Belford on Wednesday, and with good weather prevailing, those present spent a more pleasant day than has been the rule in recent years, when rough weather often made the day a miserable one. Few engagements were made, most of those present either having already engaged at present rates or hanging off until later markets. In spite of the difference of opinion of farmers as to whether women workers should be paid by hour or the week, the latter arrangement not being considered satisfactory, the demand for women workers was in excess of the supply. Only a few engagements were made, however, at the present weekly rate. 

Wooler

There was a much larger gathering at Wooler Hiring Market on Thursday than for some years past, so large indeed that the supply seemed greater than the demand. Business was very slow, and in general nothing more than the minimum wage for men and women was asked for or offered. The majority of the agreements entered into with women were for 30s a week, the old custom of the daily wage being adhered to. There was a large attendance of farmers from Glendale and district. The difficulty of fixing up was not so much a question of wages as of adequate housing accommodation, many large families of workers not getting a chance. Representatives of the Workers’ Union were busy among the crowd in High Street in front of the Black Bull, and a meeting of workers was held in the Archbold Hall in the afternoon.

An early 20th century photograph of Wooler Mart, where in 1921 large numbers gathered for the ‘hiring’s.’ REF: BRO 2134-10

The weather was dull and cold, with a blustery wind that made standing about disagreeable. The larger part of the workers from the district arrived in Wooler with the early train, but many in the immediate neighbourhood cycled into the town during the forenoon. By midday the crowd had thinned considerably. No shows or roundabouts this year, only a few stalls near the Market Cross, and one or two “cheapjacks” endeavouring to dispose of their wares to the attentive but irresponsive crowd.