It’s a popular belief that the older the record the more interesting it is – but records from any era can contain unique information that conjures up the times in which they were written.
Last week, as I was looking through some of the Urban Sanitary Authority records, I came across a rather plain notebook [Reference LB 27/2]. This outwardly prosaic book begins with detailed, handwritten water usage charts and is described in the Archives handlist as “An analysis of water supplies 1899-1944 (also contains an Old Bridge road traffic census of 1922)”. This is an accurate description of a large part of the book but, on inspection, it contains much more. It is a fascinating Day Book – a bit like Project Managers diary – that draws you into the mind of the writer with every turn of the page.
The Urban Sanitary Authority was the product of a series of Public Health Acts in the first half of the nineteenth century that were passed to control and combat deadly diseases such as Cholera. Many of the statutory duties of the Urban Sanitary Authority eventually passed to the Town Council as clean streets, good housing and plentiful, pure water became the standard measures of civilization.
The Tweed is tidal and its water saline so Berwick, throughout its history (and as the records testify), was reliant on wells for its water supply. Ensuring water was fit to drink was a common concern. On establishing the Urban Sanitary Authority responsibility fell upon the Borough Surveyor and the Inspector of Nuisances to identify or create healthy water sources and to ensure that they were kept free of contaminants.
When I began to leaf through the pages of this volume I quickly noticed the writer was a skilled draughtsman who also liked to record informal notes about the works being undertaken. I had the sense that this was someone who took pride in and enjoyed his work. As a result, I wanted to know more about him. His technical drawings have an accomplished artistry that put me in mind of Leonardo da Vinci’s notebooks. It’s pure speculation, but the first comprehensive translation of those Notebooks was by Richter in 1888. I wondered if the Borough Surveyor might have seen them as a young man and felt he was part of a long line of inventors and engineers. Archives can be dangerously thought provoking!
The notebook is almost entirely the work of Robert Dickinson, Borough Surveyor from 1890-1929. There is an oil painting of him (seated at a desk with a notebook) by the artist Frank Watson Wood in Berwick Town Hall .
He was a local boy, a son of Robert Dickinson, a boot and shoemaker from Tweedmouth, and his Scottish wife Lillias. I found the family in the 1871 census living in Marygate. In 1881 the family had moved to 26 Castlegate. Robert was 19 and is described as a Town Surveyors Assistant – already pursuing his future career. He is Town Surveyor in 1891 and living with his wife, Margaret, at 46 Ravensdowne. Ten years later, a widower, he lives at 6 Wallace Green – opposite the Urban Sanitary Authority buildings. His colleague, the Inspector of Nuisances, also lived in the same street! Robert was there still in 1911, seems to have retired about 1930 and died, in Berwick in 1951 aged 89.
The book is mainly concerned with the works he commissioned or managed (some examples are included above) but he peppers it with facts prompted by curiosity or conversations. This includes a note that the specification for works was altered to preserve a Hart’s Tongue Fern found growing on the ramparts. He takes care to write down the botanical name of the fern – Scotopendrium Vulgaro – as given to him by Captain Norman.
Robert also copies extracts from academic journals on geology, colleagues findings from surveys and estimations and a list and planting plan of the roses outside the Urban Sanitary Authority buildings in Wallace Green. He makes a sketch of the timber structure underneath the plaster finish in his office and makes notes on an the removal of an old dolphin recovered from the river.
He is also interested in people – keeping lists of workmen employed and information about the introduction of the old age pension. He makes notes on those working in the Surveyors office – including some who joined up to fight in the Great War. The effects of war on prices, labour supply and so on are also recorded.
This volume shows that a record has many layers – the information it contains, the person who created it, why they created it and why it was retained. A full description of content and context is essential when it is catalogued to make it available for the widest range of research.
It would be fascinating to compare five centuries of civil engineering in Berwick and there is plenty in the collection to research this aspect of Berwick’s history. Robert Dickinson is just one in a long line of inspectors, surveyors and workmen striving to ensure Berwick functioned as a prosperous and healthy place. The Guild, through their Works Committee, carried out many improvements before the Urban Sanitary Authority existed. This last drawing refers to an old dolphin that was removed in the time of Robert Dickinson. Much earlier records also refer to the protection of the Quay and old Bridge by the placement and replacement of such defensive structures in the river.
Robert’s work is also recorded in a series of records that were part of the Urban Sanitary Authority collection (summarized in the 1978 Handlist – E 1-30). Intriguingly, in volume E 7/1, there is a typescript report on road widening in 1912 at the junction of Chapel Street and Walkergate. It is signed by Robert Dickinson and it refers to the reconstruction of the Rose and Thistle Public House. If it is where we think it is (the present Cobbled Yard Hotel) – I am sitting opposite it as I write. More about that in a later post perhaps!
