Sherwood – A Story of Poverty in London’s East End

This chapter of the Sherwood story begins with my 3xgreat grandfather, William Sherwood. He was born in the Lincolnshire village of Saxilby on 18^th November 1820. Church records show that his parents, Richard and Elizabeth Sherwood had him baptised in the parish church the following day. Richard was an agricultural labourer and this would have provided some small income for the family.

Saxilby is situated 8 miles from the city of Lincoln and is located on the Foss Dyke, an inland waterway which, in those days, enabled grain and wool to be transported from Lincoln to the North via the River Trent. In return, it also allowed coal and cloth to be imported from the industrial areas of the north. Growing up, William would have witnessed barges sailing along the Foss Dyke and it was probably scenes such as these which inspired him to go to sea as an apprentice at the age of 16. 

Seaman's ticket

At the time of writing, nothing is known about the early years of his career. However, on 16^th August 1845, he was registered with a seaman’s ticket. The seaman’s ticket system was introduced by the government to create a register of merchant seaman who, in the event of war, could be called into naval service. The document provides some fascinating details. It reveals that William was 5ft 6 inches tall and he had brown hair, a dark complexion and hazel eyes. He also had a tattoo of a man on his right arm. Significantly, when he wasn’t employed on a vessel as a seaman, he was living in London.

The document offers tantalising information about his voyages as well. On 22^nd November 1845, he set sail from London on a London-registered ship bound for the West Indies. He was at sea for almost 9 months and his ship did not return to London until 14^th August 1846. When his ship docked he would have had to run the gauntlet of local people who lived off the sailors. This account written after the event paints a vivid picture of the dockland community in about 1845:

The inhabitants of Ratcliff Highway lived upon the sailors. There were a great many lodging-houses there; still more clothiers and outfitters; and any number of public-houses and beer shops, nearly every one of which had a dancing saloon at the back of the bar. Jack came ashore with his pockets full of money, but they quickly emptied. He was ready enough to spend his pay, but there were other persons still more ready to despoil him of it. In those days there were no Government officials to board the vessels and arrange for the safe despatch of Jack’s money, and Jack himself to his home. No sooner did a vessel reach her moorings than she was swarming with boarding-house touts, crimps, outfitters, runners, and other rapacious beasts of prey. Poor Jack was soon in the hands of the Philistines.
 From the public-houses in Ratcliff Highway there constantly issued the sound of loud laughter, mingled with shouting and fearful imprecations. Far into the night the women and the drunken sailors danced and sang to the accompaniment of screeching fiddles. For the most part the women wore white dresses and white shoes. If the sailors were not entirely fleeced inside the saloons, the process was completed by bullies and fighting men when they staggered out into the street. The poor fellows were frequently drugged, and sometimes half murdered. (Round London : Down East and Up West, by Montagu Williams Q.C., (1894))

Bill did not remain in port long and returned to sea on 24^th August on a Newcastle registered ship. The ship did not return to England until 7^th December when it docked in Newcastle. Bill spent Christmas in England and may have visited his parents in Saxilby. He set sail early in the new year and departed Newcastle on 6^th January 1847.

The ship spent over four and half months at sea before docking at Hull on 30^th May. Bill spent the remainder of the year on dry land. During this time, he may have visited his family in Lincolnshire before returning to London.

Once back in London he met a girl. Charlotte Tarrant was a parasol maker from Wapping and her father was, like him, a mariner. They were married on 21^st February 1848 at Christchurch, Watney Street. Once they were married they moved into Charlotte’s family’s house at 37 Broad Street, Wapping. The house was on the east side of the road and looked across to the huge sugar warehouse that formed part of the London Docks. Henry Mayhew captured the scene at the time:

As you enter the dock the sight of the forest of masts in the distance, and the tall chimneys vomiting clouds of black smoke, and the many-coloured flags flying in the air, has a most peculiar effect; while the sheds with the monster wheels arching through the roofs look like the paddle-boxes of huge steamers. Along the quay you see, now men with their faces blue with indigo, and now gangers with their long brass tipped rule dripping with spirit from the cask they have been probing. Then will come a group of flaxen-haired sailors, chattering German; and next a black sailor, with a cotton handkerchief twisted turban-like round his head. Presently a blue-smocked butcher, with fresh meat and a bunch of cabbages in the tray on his shoulder; and shortly afterwards a mate, with green paroquets in a wooden cage. Here you will see sitting on a bench a sorrowful-looking woman, with new bright cooking tins at her feet, telling you she is an emigrant preparing for her voyage. As you pass along this quay the air is pungent with tobacco; on that, it overpowers you with the fumes of rum; then you are nearly sickened with the stench of hides and huge bins of horns; and shortly afterwards the atmosphere is fragrant with coffee and spice. Nearly everywhere you meet stacks of cork, or else yellow bins of sulphur, or lead-coloured copper ore. As you enter this warehouse the flooring is sticky, as if it had been newly tarred, with the sugar that has leaked through the casks; and as you descend into the dark vaults, you see long lines of lights hanging from the black arches, and lamps flitting about midway. Here you sniff the fumes of the wine, and there the peculiar fungus-smell of dry rot; there the jumble of sounds as you pass along the dock blends in anything but sweet concord. The sailors are singing boisterous nigger songs from the Yankee ship just entering; the cooper is hammering at the casks on the quay; the chains of the cranes, loosed of their weight, rattle as they fly up again; the ropes splash in the water; some captain shouts his orders through his hands; a goat bleats from some ship in the basin; and empty casks roll along the stones with a heavy, drum-like sound. Here the heavily-laden ships are down far below the quay, and you descend to them by ladders; whilst in another basin they are high up out of the water, so that their green copper sheathing is almost level with the eye of the passenger; while above his head a long line of bowsprits stretches far over the quay, and from them hang spars and planks as a gangway to each ship. ('The Tower Subway and London Docks', Old and New London: Volume 2 (1878))

London Docks circa 1845

On 4^th March 1848, less than two weeks after they were married, Bill went to sea again. He returned to London exactly 5 months later on 4^th August 1848. Charlotte became pregnant and she gave birth to their first child, whom they named Sarah Elizabeth Sherwood, in the early months of 1849. Sarah was born in Saxilby, which suggests they travelled freely between London and Lincolnshire. Sarah’s birth was followed by a son the following year. William Francis Sherwood was born on 19^th December 1850 at 37 Broad Street. The baby William was baptised on 5^th January 1851 at St Georges in the East.

William Francis Sherwood birth certificate

By the time of the census three months later, Bill had moved back to Church Road, Saxilby with his parents and was working as an agricultural labourer. His wife Charlotte remained in London and was living with their children at 37 Broad Street. They shared the house with her father John Tarrant, who was now working as a sail maker, his wife (Sarah) and their three children Sarah, Samuel and William. Also living in the house was a blacksmith, his wife and their two children. A grand total of 12 people living in very cramped conditions. Charlotte and two other members of the household were working as parasol makers.

Why had Bill left his wife and kids behind? Was there a scarcity of work in London? Or had their marriage hit the rocks? Perhaps it was both. Whatever the reason for their separation, Bill returned to London to be with them by the end of the year and the following summer Martha Warrick Sherwood was born. She was baptised on 24^th October 1852 at St Georges in the East.

The following autumn disaster struck the family. Bill's 4-year-old daughter Sarah died suddenly of Cholera on 18th November 1853 and within days her younger sister Martha followed her. The overcrowded housing of the East End enabled infection to spread quickly and there was little that could be done in those days, especially if you were poor. The pain of this loss must have been unbearable.

Ellen Sherwood was born in the early months of 1854 and although her birth must have helped to ease their sense of loss, there must have been concern that disease could return. Other parts of the city had seen various epidemics. There had been outbreaks of Cholera in South London the previous summer and in the summer of 1854 there was a major outbreak in Soho.

On 3^rd April 1856 William and Charlotte had another son whom they named John Moses Sherwood. Baby John was baptised at St George in the East on 27^th April .  At the time, the family had recently moved to 1 Princes Street following the death of Charlotte’s father. 1 Princes Street was in Wapping and was the address of the St George in the East workhouse. It was perhaps the poor conditions at the workhouse that lead to another family tragedy, the death of baby John that summer aged just 4 months. He was buried at St Dunstan’s, Stepney on 5^th August.

London in the mid-nineteenth century was an extremely dirty and unhealthy place. Three million people populated the city and many houses still relied on cess pits, especially in the poorer districts. Effluent was often forced upwards after periods of sustained wet weather. In 1847 the Metropolitan Commission of Sewers decreed that all privy waste must be discharged into sewers. This seemed like a good idea and many districts in London, particularly the wealthier areas, were connected to a network of sewers. The problem was that these sewers discharged directly into the Thames and its tributaries and the rivers were overwhelmed by untreated sewage. Those same rivers were still used as a source for cleaning and drinking in some areas. Wildlife disappeared from the Thames and the river died. The Prime Minister at the time, Benjamin Disraeli, described the Thames as ‘a Stygian pool reeking with ineffable and unbearable horror’ (Disraeli, (1858)). By the summer of 1858, the situation had become unbearable and the windows of the Houses of Parliament had to be protected by curtains soaked in chlorine to keep out the smell. This situation became known as The Great Stink and it finally prompted The Metropolitan Board of Works and their engineer Joseph Bazalgette to construct new sewers that diverted the effluent downriver to outfalls at Beckton and Crossness.

The Silent Highwayman

Bill took whatever employment he could to support his family. Earlier in his married life he had briefly worked as an agricultural labourer back in his native Lincolnshire, but now that he was living permanently in London, he needed an alternative source of income if he couldn't find work on a ship. He became one of the thousands who worked casually in the docks.

On 14th July 1858, Bill's wife, Charlotte, gave birth to another baby daughter. She was baptised with the name Harriet at St Mary's, Cable Street, on 15th August 1858. At the time of the baptism, Bill and his family were living at 31 James Place, Ratcliff. James Place was situated between Cable Street and the railway line and was book-ended by Devonport Street in the west and Stepney Causeway in the east. It was a narrow street, just 7 feet separated the houses running along its southern side from a high brick wall on the northern side. It was reached by descending several steps down from the streets at each end and was a dark, dank and unhealthy place. It was probably these conditions which lead to the death of baby Harriet in the autumn of that year.

The situation for the casual dock labourer grew especially desperate in January 1861. London was in the grip of freezing winter weather and the ships were unable to dock. There was no work and many families went hungry. Many dock labourers were involved in bread riots and rampaged along Commercial Road smashing windows and stealing food.

According to the 1861 census they were still living at 31 James Place in spite of the awful conditions.  Bill was a dock labourer and Charlotte was still making parasols. Their two surviving children, William and Ellen, were both attending school.

Cholera returned to London in the summer of 1866. The Times newspaper of 21^st July 1866 reported:

Thirteen cases have been admitted into the London Hospital, and five deaths have occurred there this week, and other patients are now in a precarious state. Several deaths from cholera have taken place in the neighbourhood of the hospital. In accordance with the provisions advocated in the short article which we lately published on cholera hospitals a spacious ward has been set aside for these cases. It is already nearly full.

On 25^th July The Times further reported:

In all London last week there were 346 deaths from cholera and 221 from diarrhea…It was evident, therefore, he added that cholera of a fatal type was prevalent in London, and as far as his observations on it had gone, especially in the London Hospital, where many cases had been treated, it was almost entirely among the poor, and the occupants of the worst classes of houses, where sanitary regulations had been neglected.

Bill fell ill at the end on the month and his symptoms were severe enough for him to be transferred to the London Hospital in Whitechapel. The vomiting and diarrhea would have resulted in chronic dehydration and in spite of medical intervention, he died on 31^st July. The cause of his death was certified as Cholera.

William Sherwood death certificate

At the time London was in the grip of the worst Cholera outbreak since 1854. The Times newspaper contained the following in an article on 1^st August:

…The excess of deaths was caused entirely by cholera and diarrhea. 904 deaths by cholera,349 by diarrhea were registered in the week making the aggregate 1253 deaths…It is a peculiarity of the case that the greater part of this slaughter in seven days of 1253 people of all ages took place within a limited portion of the London area. 924 of the deaths, 811 by cholera and 113 by diarrhea, were registered in the six districts of Bethnal Green, Whitechapel, St George-in-the-East, Stepney, Mile End Old Town and Poplar (including Bow), among about a seventh part of the population of London and on about one fourteenth of its area. The attack extends all along the north side of the Thames, from the River Lea and the Isle of Dogs to the Tower of London. Limehouse Basin and the Regent’s Canal are the central line of the attack, which stretches as far north as Victoria Park. This is essentially the port of London, inhabited by its maritime population. The canals and the basin are full of foul water, and are apparently connected with the Limehouse Cut, Hackney Cut and the River Lea. The East London Waterworks Canal draws its supply from the river at Lea Bridge, where there is a reservoir, and runs for a couple of miles by the side of Hackney cut down to its other reservoirs north of Bow and near the Lea. The present cholera field derives its water from these works….The people are falling ill every hour; you see them of all ages, children and adults, lying about their beds  like people under the influence of a deadly poison, some acutely suffering, nearly all conscious of their fate and of all that is going on around them…Several wards of the London Hospital are full of patients…The people themselves are the most patient; most willing to help each other, the women always in front , and none shrinking from danger.  There is no desertion of children, husbands, wives, fathers or mothers from fear.

It must have been terrifying not only for Bill and his family, but also for the countless others whose lives were affected by the outbreak. The source of the outbreak was contaminated drinking water supplied from the River Lea by the East London Water Company. There were stories at the time of people’s pipes being blocked by dead eels and brown-coloured drinking water.  At a time when the rest of London’s sanitation had started to improve, the outbreak was a huge scandal. The water company was found to be responsible and has the blood of thousands of East Enders like William Sherwood on its hands.

Bill’s son, William Francis, was just 15 at the time and the loss of his father would have been a massive shock, but with the only other source of family income being derived from his mum’s parasol making, it was imperative that he stayed strong. He was the man of the house now and had to earn a living not only for himself but also for his sister, Ellen, and his mum. There is no evidence of them having entered the local workhouse in the aftermath of his father’s death and this suggests they managed to scrape together enough money to provide a roof over their heads and food on the table.

10 years after his father’s death, William Francis lost his mother as well. Charlotte died of bronchitis at her home in 42 London Street on 11^th June 1876. She was just 49 at the time and William’s sister, Ellen, had been present at her death.

By this time, William Francis had a girlfriend. Kate Matthews was the daughter of a master butcher who had a shop in Bow Common Lane, Mile End. The relationship had progressed to the extent that she had fallen pregnant and they now had to get married. The wedding took place at St James’s the Great parish church in Bethnal Green on 19^th June 1876. At that time Bill was employed as a porter. Just a few weeks later they had a daughter whom they christened Kate Elizabeth Sherwood.

Two years after the birth of young Kate, they had another baby. This time it was a boy and they christened him William Edward Sherwood. He was joined two years after that by a second daughter. Charlotte Emily Sherwood was born on 23^rd June 1880 at 3 Medland Street, Ratcliff, which was a common lodging house.

 

Ratcliff 1890s vs present day

Soon after Charlotte’s birth the family moved to 1 The Orchard, Ratcliff. William Francis was now working as a “coal tank filler”. Coal tanks were small black steam locomotives that were initially used for freight work over short distances. They were probably being used in the docks at the time.

The census taken during the following year shows they were still living at 1 The Orchard. William was described as a “general labourer” and was living at the address with his wife and their three children.

On 16^th May 1883 William and Kate had another daughter named Martha. She was baptised on 1^st June at St James’s Church in Ratcliff. By the time of Martha’s arrival into the world, the family had moved to 12 London Street. Unfortunately the joy surrounding the birth was short-lived as Martha developed water on the brain. She died at Shadwell Children’s Hospital on 12^th December 1883 aged just 6 months.

Extract from Charles Booth Survey Map

In the years that followed, Charles Booth, who later founded the Salvation Army, conducted a survey of London. He walked the streets taking copious notes and eventually produced a map that classified their social class and poverty. The Booth survey describes Medland Street as being populated by “sailor’s widows” and “loose women”. Nearby London Street is described as “very rough” and the children were “booted, but ragged”. The streets were indicated on the map as dark blue and black respectively. Dark blue was described as “Very poor, casual, chronic want”. Black was described as “Lowest class, vicious, semi criminal”. (Booth, 1889-1899)

Booth’s survey paints a grim picture of the living conditions in the area. At the time the air would have been thick with coal smoke from industry and their lodgings damp. Inevitably, all this took its toll on William’s health. Like his mother, he caught bronchitis and died at his home, 10 London Street, on 19^th April 1888 aged just 37. and was laid to rest at the City of London and Tower Hamlets Cemetery on 29^th April 1888. At the time of his death he was working as a dock labourer and once again would have had to experience the scrum of the “call on” in order to earn the privilege of a day’s work in the docks that would have involved working in all weathers. He lived a lived a hard life and died young even by Victorian standards. The average life expectancy for men at the time was around 45.

Essex Upsons

Essex Upsons

Mystery shrouds the origins of my great x2 grandfather, Charles Upson. He was born in around 1865 yet despite extensive searching, I’ve never found his birth certificate. Later documents are full of contradictions with regards to his early life and it seems that Charles himself never knew his father and possibly his mother neither. It is unfortunate that we do not know what happened during the first years of young Charles’s life, but what we do know is that he was eventually sent away to live with his grandparents.

Charles’s grandparents were George and Charlotte Upson. George was an agricultural labourer from the Essex village of Fryerning and Charlotte, born Charlotte March, was from Stock, also in Essex. It is believed the couple had settled in South Weald in the early 1840s. George was an agricultural labourer, but must have been a skilled rick thatcher as he won a 10s prize at an agricultural fair in 1849. The following decade saw a couple of brushes with the law. On 21^st July 1854, he appeared before Mr Walford at the crown court summer assizes accused of stealing a cart-load of manure. He was acquitted, but he found himself in trouble again the following year. This time he was accused of stealing a deer belonging to C.T. Tower, the lord of the manor and resident of Weald Hall. The article below from the Chelmsford Chronicle describes the case:

He was found “not guilty”, but the two incidents must have damaged his reputation. Nevertheless, it appears that life returned to normal. In 1861, he was living at a cottage in Green Lane with his wife and 6 of their children. According to the 1871 census the family lived in a cottage in South Weald, Essex. At that time, the six-year-old Charles was a schoolboy and shared his grandparents’ house with his uncle James (aged 25) and three other grandchildren: Charlotte Upson (aged 12), William Upson (aged 8) and Charlotte Parry (aged 4).  As well as learning to read and write Charles would have been expected to work in the fields undertaking light physical work and clearing stones. His grandparents probably brought him up as if he was one of their own children.

It appears that by the end of the 1870s George and Charlotte were struggling financially and had appealed to the Billericay Union for relief. It then appears that the Union tried to recover some of these costs from two of George’s sons. On 11^th March 1879 magistrates ordered George Upson, a retired police constable and Joseph Upson, serving in the Metropolitan Police to both pay 2s per week upkeep. George sadly passed away in December 1879 and was laid to rest at St Peter’s Church, South Weald on 27^th December. With his grandfather’s death, Charles and his grandmother went to live with his uncle John in nearby Havering.

According to the 1881 census; Charles, his uncle John and aunt Eliza lived at a cottage on the Pyrgo Park estate. Charles lived there with his cousins Emily, Charlotte and Charles; his grandmother and his younger sister Harriet. Both Charles and his uncle worked as general labourers and were employed by the then owner of Pyrgo Park, Lieutenant General Albert Fytche.  The Lieutenant General lived at Pyrgo Park house with his wife and an army of servants comprising a butler, a footman, a coachman, a groom, a cook, upper housemaid, under housemaid and kitchen maid.

The house dated from 1852 and had been built on the site of an earlier house that had fallen into disrepair. It was built in a neo-classical and Palladian style. Further alterations in 1862 had given the front of the house a tower that rose above the roofline. There was also a domed pavilion that was connected to the left hand side of the house. The house was built in white brick with Portland stone for the columns and dressings. On the inside the house boasted its own gasworks and private chapel. The grounds surrounding the house were extensively landscaped and the surrounding land encompassed several farms which brought the overall size of the estate to 600 acres.

The 1880s were a period of hardship in the rural community. A series of wet summers and bad harvests combined with cheaper grain, meat and wool imports resulted in an agricultural depression. Essex was one of the worst hit regions. By 1887, Lieutenant-General Fytche had seen enough and decided to sell up. It seems probable that the servants, staff, tenant farmers and labourers all lost their livelihoods and were turned off the land.

Charles, now aged 22, moved to the nearby town of Ilford and found work as a milk vendor. It was probably whilst he was out working on his milk round that he met Elizabeth Crabb. She was from the village of Lambourne and was the daughter of the parish sexton. Charles and Elizabeth were married at Lambourne parish church on 21^st May 1888.

Soon after they were married Elizabeth became pregnant and on 1^st March 1889 she gave birth to a baby son. They named their son Charles James Upson. At the time of his birth they were living at 11 Brandon Grove, Ilford and Charles was still employed as a milk vendor. Three years later, at the time of the 1891 census, they had moved across the River Roding to 7 Southborough Road, Little Ilford. Charles was still working as a milkman. At that time, Little Ilford was expanding rapidly and it is likely that they moved into a newly-built house. Over the next few years the village was eventually absorbed into Manor Park.

During the rest of the 1890s Charles and Elizabeth’s family grew. Wilfred Owen Upson was born in spring 1894 and was followed by Arthur Upson in early 1897 and Albert Edward Upson in summer 1899. Another son, George Upson, was born in 1895 but he did not survive. By the time of the 1901 census, Charles and his family had moved to 29 Park Cottages, Ley Street, Ilford. Elizabeth was pregnant once again and she gave birth to Rose Ellen Upson in the autumn of that year. By now Charles had ceased to be a milkman and was now working as a jobbing gardener.

Three years later, in summer 1904, Elsie Maud Upson was born. Charles and his family remained in Ley Street and according to the 1911 census, they lived at no 63 which may well have been the same house as in 1901 but had been renumbered. The family of eight shared a house with just four rooms which would have included a kitchen, living room and bedrooms. Rather cosy, but nothing like as crowded as some tenements in the East End.

War broke out in August 1914 and dragged on for over four years. With many young men overseas fighting in the trenches, there were vacancies in the factories for women and older men. It seems likely that Charles gave up his gardening work and went to work in the factories. He may have worked for the war effort between 1914 and 1918, but what is certain is that he ended up working for Jurgens. Jurgens manufactured margarine and they had a factory in Purfleet beside the main London to Southend railway line. Charles was employed there as a process worker.

Charles died whilst working at the factory on 24^th February 1919. An inquest was held on 27^th February and concluded that the cause of his death was an attack of angina. Charles wife, Elizabeth, lived on for another decade before succumbing to bronchial pneumonia on 15^th February 1929. She had spent the last years of her life at 16 Francis Avenue, Ilford and had suffered from arthritis. Her daughter Ellen Maud Upson was present at her death.

The Hewitts: a London artisan family

Thomas Hewitt was baptised on 24^th April 1796 at St Mary’s church in Lambeth and was one of 6 children born to William and Susanna Hewitt. Little is known about Thomas’s early years but at some point during his childhood he and his family moved from Lambeth to St Pancras, which at the time, was a rapidly developing new London suburb. The area around St Pancras went from sparsely populated countryside to a population of 46333 in 1811 and increasing to 71838 in 1821.

Thomas had grown up in a time when the threat of invasion was very real. In his early childhood Napoleon had conquered most of Europe. When he was just nine years old he would have learned of Admiral Nelson’s heroic death in the great naval battle at Trafalgar. Later, Napoleon escaped imprisonment on the island of Elba and led another great army. That army was finally defeated at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 and peace returned to Europe.

Even before Napoleon came to power, the turmoil of the “Reign of Terror” in France led to many artisans escaping to England. Many of them settled in the cheap rented accommodation in Somers Town, which was the name of the area immediately to the south and west of St Pancras church. The refugees were skilled workers and with the opening of the canal the the borough became a major centre for the piano, organ and furniture industries, light engineering and scientific instruments. This was to be enhanced in the decades to come by the arrival of the railways.

Monday 11^th September 1820 was an important day in Thomas’s young life. It was his wedding day. He had known Mary Lansbury for at least 18 months and their love affair had resulted in the birth of a baby daughter named Mary the previous November. Baby Mary had been baptised at St Anne’s in Soho, presumably to conceal the fact that they were unmarried at the time. The church they were being married in, St Pancras Church, was one the oldest in London and stood on the banks of the River Fleet. At the time of his marriage, Thomas was twenty five years old and his new bride was three years his senior.

At the time the area was on the edge of London and it had a distinctly rural feel to it. There was a farm belonging to William Agar immediately behind the church. In 1820 his land had been bisected by the newly opened Regents Canal. Beyond that fields stretched away to the north and east as far as the eye could see.

The Fleet River, though barely more than a stream, was prone to severe flash flooding after periods of heavy rain. According to a local chronicler one of the most considerable overflows occurred in January, 1809. He wrote; "At this period, when the snow was lying very deep, a rapid thaw came on, and the arches not affording a sufficient passage for the increased current, the whole space between Pancras Church, Somers Town, and the bottom of the hill at Pentonville, was in a short time covered with water. The flood rose to a height of three feet from the middle of the highway; the lower rooms of all the houses within that space were completely inundated, and the inhabitants suffered considerable damage in their goods and furniture, which many of them had not time to remove. Two cart-horses were drowned, and for several days persons were obliged to be conveyed to and from their houses, and receive their provisions, &c., in at their windows by means of carts." ('St Pancras', Old and New London: Volume 5 (1878))

Again, in 1818, there was a very alarming flood at Battle Bridge, which lies at the southern end of Pancras Road, of which the following account appears in the newspapers of that date: “In consequence of the quantity of rain that fell on Friday night, the river Fleet overflowed near Battle Bridge, where the water was soon several feet high, and ran into the lower apartments of every house from the 'Northumberland Arms' tea-gardens to the Small-pox Hospital, Somers Town, being a distance of about a mile. The torrent then forced its way into Field Street and Lyon Place, which are inhabited by poor people, and entered the kitchens, carrying with it everything that came within its reach. In the confusion, many persons in attempting to get through the water fell into the Fleet, but were most providentially saved. In the house of a person named Creek, the water forced itself into a room inhabited by a poor man and his family, and before they could be alarmed, their bed was floating about in near seven feet of water. They were, by the prompt conduct of the neighbours and night officers, got out safe. Damage to the extent of several thousand pounds was occasioned by the catastrophe." ('St Pancras', Old and New London: Volume 5 (1878))

The local industries provided ample opportunities for employment and soon people were flocking to the area. Thomas and Mary settled in Somers Town and their family grew. They had three sons and two more daughters (William Hewett Bp. 27/05/1822, Thomas Hewett Junior Bp. 9/06/1826, Charles Hewitt 4/06/1828, Susannah Hewett 1/06/1831 and Emma Hewett Bp. 28/03/1834). Sadly, Charles did not survive and was buried on 9th January 1831. At the time of his son's burial, Thomas and his family were living in Perry Street, St Pancras; but by the time his daughter Susannah was baptised, Thomas and his family moved the short distance to Brewer Street. A few years later, at the time of Emma's baptism, they were living in Brill Terrace.

All of Thomas's children were baptised at St Anne’s church in Wardour Street in London’s Soho. Wardour Street was a centre for the chair making industry and it strongly suggests that Thomas was working in the area. It must have been more convenient for the baptisms of his children to take place there rather than near his home in St Pancras.

Thomas's mother, had been living close to Thomas at 37 Brewer Street, St Pancras. On 19th August 1834 she made a will, probably because she knew she was gravely ill. Thomas and his brother William were named as the executors. As her health deteriorated, it seems likely that his mother came to live with him and his family in Brill Terrace. She passed away that autumn and was buried at St Pancras Cemetery on 6th October 1834.

According to the census taken on 6^th June 1841, Thomas and his family were living on Upper Seymour Street (now known as Eversholt Street). Thomas was working as an “appraiser and organ builder”.

The opening of Euston railway station in 1837 resulted in massive development of the area. The Agar family began leasing out the northern portion of their land (behind St Pancras church) from 1841 onwards. The southern portion of land had been sold off to the Imperial Gas, Light and Coke Company in 1822 and had been developed as a gas works. The leases were relatively short at 21 years and as a result, the houses built on the site were little better than a shanty town. The area, known as Agar Town, became one of the worst slums in London.

Neighbouring Somers Town was not quite the slum to the same degree as Agar Town. However, it was still described as being full of dark courts and alleys, gin palaces, cheap shops, patched shops and passages teeming with children.

By 30^th March 1851, the Hewetts had moved to 4 Church Terrace which was close to the old St Pancras Church where they had been married. Thomas and Mary were living at the address with their son Thomas and their two youngest daughters Susannah and Emma. Thomas, aged 54, was now working as a chair maker and his son was an organ builder.

Organ building was a growth industry. The Industrial Revolution led to an increase in the urban population. As the towns and cities grew, there was a demand for new churches to cater for God’s faithful and these churches all needed pipe organs. The area around St Pancras, with its skilled labourers and artisans, was a centre for the organ building industry.

On 7^th January 1854, the younger Thomas was married at St Pancras Church. His bride, Emma Pittock, was the daughter of a builder from Kersey in Suffolk. It is possible they met whilst working on a church with her father.

After the wedding, they continued living in Church Terrace. Emma quickly fell pregnant and towards the end of the pregnancy travelled back to be with her family in Suffolk. Charles Pittock Hewitt was born in the autumn of 1854 in Stoke-by-Nayland.

Emma returned to London with her baby son and during the remainder of the decade gave birth to two more sons and a daughter: Thomas Coventry in early 1857, Emma in around 1859 and Frederick Samuel on 2^nd April 1861. Both Frederick and Thomas were baptised at St Pancras Church on 16th March 1862. According to the 1861 census they were living next door to Thomas’s parents and sharing the house with the Bull and Pike families. There were a total of 13 people living under one roof and conditions must have been very cramped. Another daughter, Alice Ann, was born a few years later in 1864.

The opening of Kings Cross railway station in 1852 had led to an even greater influx of people to Somers Town and Agar Town. This was the height of “railway mania” and competing private railway companies shared the same lines and stations. In the 1850s the Midland railway company shared Kings Cross railway station with the Great Northern railway company but by the end of the decade plans were drawn up for a terminus of their own.

In 1859, the Midland Railway company purchased 27 acres of land from the ecclesiastical commissioners (including St Giles’s graveyard to the north of St Pancras Church) and purchased the rest of Agar Town in 1860.

After unsuccessful petitions against the company’s plans by the St. Pancras Vestry, The Regent’s Canal, and the Imperial Gas Light & Coke Company; the Midland Railway (St. Pancras Branch) Bill was passed by Parliamentary powers and became law in 1866. It gave the company complete power to purchase necessary lands and houses “by compulsion or agreement.” While the company had to compensate those who had taken out 99-year leases with the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, weekly tenants could be evicted without compensation. Some of them fought strenuously to obtain remuneration for being displaced, but were unsuccessful. The official number of displaced “labouring classes” by the Midland Railway Company put the number at a mere 1,180 persons. However, more realistic estimates indicate that the extension of the Midland Rail line into its own station at St. Pancras demolished 4,000 houses in Somers, Camden, and Agar Towns, displacing perhaps as many as 32,000 people.

The stress of fighting the Midland Railway company must have taken its toll. Thomas senior became ill with bronchitis towards the end of 1862 and died alone at home on 1^st February 1863. The cause of his death was pulmonary consumption. Thomas senior was buried at St Pancras Cemetery at 3pm on 7th February 1863. His wife, Mary, who must have been away from home at the time of his death, lived on for another 5¹/₂ years. The construction of St Pancras railway station forced the family to leave their home. Mary moved the short distance to 7 Aldenham Street, where she died on 9^th September 1868. The rest of the family moved across London to St John’s Wood where they started a new life. Thomas and Emma had another daughter, Ellen May, on 4^th January 1870.

According to the census taken on 4^th April 1871, the family were living at 26 Townsend Cottages in the working-class enclave of Portland Town, St John’s Wood. They appear to have settled in well. Whilst Thomas and his eldest son Charles were both working as organ builders, his wife Emma was working as a shop keeper. Even though Thomas and Emma were by this time well into their 40s, they produced another son. Herbert Arthur Hewitt was born on 20^th May 1872 in St John’s Wood.

The turmoil of their time in St Pancras was behind them and life in St John’s Wood appears to have been much more stable. So much so, they were able to get their children Herbert, Alice and Ellen baptised. This took place on 1st November 1874 at the church of St Stephen the Martyr in Avenue Road.

The census taken on 3^rd April 1881 showed the family were still living at 26 Townsend Cottages, although the eldest son Charles had apparently flown the nest and Alice was absent. Thomas, Thomas Coventry and Frederick were all working as organ builders which suggests that Thomas was self-employed and that business was so good he needed to employ his sons. Thomas’s daughter Emma was working as a dress maker and Herbert was at school.

By the 1891 census, the family were still living at 26 Townsend Cottages. Thomas Coventry had left the family business but Thomas and Frederick were still working together. Alice was working as a shop assistant and Mary was a linen draper’s assistant. Herbert was apparently not home.

Ten years on and according to the 1901 census they were still living at 26 Townsend Cottages. Although Thomas (elder) was 75 years old, he was still working as an organ builder with his son Frederick. His daughter Alice was still working as a shop assistant.

At some point during the first decade of the 20^th century, Thomas retired and after around 40 years living at the same address, he decided to leave St John’s Wood. By the next census on 2^nd April 1911, Thomas, his wife Emma and their grown up children Frederick and Alice, had moved to 5 Sutherland Road, Bow. At 85 years, Thomas (elder) was an old age pensioner but his son, Frederick, was still working as an organ builder.

By this time, Thomas (elder) was becoming frail. In the years immediately following the census Thomas (elder) and his wife moved to 4 Wedmore Gardens, Upper Holloway. His daughter-in-law, Ada, nursed him until his death on 19^th January 1913. His wife, Emma, lived on for another 19 years. She passed away with her daughter Mary at her side on 13^th December 1931 having reached the grand old age of 102.

Pedro the Singing Stonemason

Peter Hand was born on 22^nd February 1842 at the Bromsgrove Union Workhouse in Worcestershire. The fact that he was born here rather than at home suggests that it may have been a difficult birth that required some medical intervention.  Peter was the 3^rd son born to portrait painter John Evans Hand and his Irish wife Mary Ann. His eldest brother, Matthew, was around twelve years his senior. The next oldest, Dominic, was around seven years older. The first of Peter’s younger sisters, Mary was born on 7^th January 1846 when he was almost four years old. By this time the family had moved to Birmingham. Peter’s earliest memories would have involved growing up in Birmingham and seeing his father’s art studio.  The youngest sister, Elizabeth, was born on 3^rd July 1849 when Peter was seven years old.

Peter Hand family tree

According to the census taken on 30^th March 1851, Peter was living at 24 Broom Street in the Bordesley area of Birmingham and was attending school. Peter spent the first fifteen years of his life growing up in the city and the evidence suggests that this was, on the whole, a period of stability and relative happiness. He saw his older brothers, Matthew and Dominic get married in 1852 and 1854 respectively and once they had children of their own they decided to move south to London.

By the time Peter was fifteen he would have left school and he moved north with his father, mother and younger sisters (Mary Ann and Elizabeth) in around 1857. It is not clear whether the move was motivated by a desire to seek work or whether they were forcibly resettled. They relocated to Salford, Lancashire and it is likely that Peter started an apprenticeship to become a stonemason soon after they arrived.

The census, taken on 31^st March 1861, shows that Peter was living with his parents at 2 River Place, Salford. Peter was by now working as a stonemason and stone carver, a job that combined skill and precision with an artistic flair he must have inherited from his father.

Excerpt from 1861 census

Life was hard for them in Salford and in 1861/62 they moved south to be closer to Matthew and Dominic, who at the time of the 1861 census where living at 7 Field Place, Newington, Surrey. The reason for the move was that Peter’s father was probably destitute and in may have been ill. What is certain is that his father died in St Thomas’ Hospital, Lambeth on 15^th May 1862. The cause of his death was Typhus Fever, a disease that hit the poor the hardest.

Peter’s movements following his father’s death are not known, but we can make an educated guess. Peter was now twenty years old and a qualified stone mason. His mother, now a widow, and his sisters may have stayed with Matthew and Dominic thus enabling Peter to travel around the country to work on a variety of different short-term contracts. Peter may have belonged to one of the early trade unions such as the Friendly Society of Operative Stonemasons and could have also been involved in industrial action. At this time the major issues were the campaign for a nine hour day and the resistance to hourly payment

On 2^nd April 1871, Peter was lodging at a guest house run by a Mrs Kaymer at 24 Guildford Street in Brighton. The census states that he was working as a stone carver which implies more skilled or artistic work than a stone mason. Peter was sharing his lodgings with a plasterer whom he may have known. This could suggest that he was involved in the construction of new buildings being erected in Brighton at that time.

While Peter was carving stone in Brighton, his mother, Mary Ann, was being employed as a domestic servant who practiced needlework. She was living at 130 Peckham Park Road which was (and still is) located in the northern part of Peckham close to the Old Kent Road. Meanwhile several miles away in Newington, Peter’s brother Matthew was residing at 44 Weymouth Street with his wife and three children. At this stage Matthew had moved away from painting houses and was now working as a sign painter.

Once Peter had completed his contract in Brighton it seems likely that he returned to metropolitan Surrey to be closer to his family. A short time afterwards he met a young local woman named Jessie Berry. Jessie was the daughter of an accountant working for the Camberwell parish vestry and would have come from a wealthier middle class background. Peter grew up in a more bohemian environment and must have seemed quite exotic to her. It seems his artistic talents were not limited to the carving of stone either. Indeed, he was an accomplished singer as well. On 29^th April 1873, he performed using the name Pedro Hand in North Woolwich Gardens with a blackface minstrel troupe known as Beaumont’s Black Blossoms. His performance of “Tis but a Little Faded Flower” was commended in a review published in The Era several days later:

Review from The Era dated 4th May 1873

Beaumont's Black Blossoms flyer

Jessie fell pregnant and when it became obvious that she was expecting a baby there must have been considerable pressure from both Pedro’s Irish catholic mother and Jessie’s middle class parents for them to marry as soon as possible.  The prospect of their daughter giving birth out of wedlock must have horrified them.

By the time they got married, Jessie must have been somewhere between five and eight months pregnant. Consequently they were already living together at an address in Trafalgar Street, when they were finally married at St Peter’s church, Walworth on 16^th August 1874. At the time of the wedding, Pedro still described himself as a stone carver and there is no mention made of his other life as a singer. Pedro and Jessie’s baby was born in the autumn of 1874 and they named her Jane Maria Hand.

The pressure of being a young father seems to have taken its toll on Pedro’s singing career. Indeed, on 4^th June 1876 he placed the following advertisement in The Era. Clearly, he was no longer performing with Beaumont’s Black Blossoms but still yearned to sing in front of an audience.

In 1877 the Friendly Society of Operative Stonemasons called a strike in support of its claim for 10d an hour. The result was a total defeat resulting in wage cuts and longer working hours. Whether or not Pedro was involved is debatable. However, what is certain is that he must have moved to the north of England in search of work. Jessie was pregnant again and they needed the money. Maybe he contacted an old friend from his early days in Lancashire and called in a favour.

Pedro and Jessie’s second child was born on 25^th September 1877 at 14 Woollacott Street in Oldham, Lancashire. He was a son and they named him William Pedro Hand after Jessie’s father and Pedro himself. Perhaps significantly, Pedro describes himself as a stone mason rather than a stone carver at this time.

Pedro and his family did not apparently remain in Oldham for long and by the time of the next census on 3^rd April 1881, they were living at 34 Constance Road close to East Dulwich railway station. Pedro’s mother, Mary Ann, was also living with them and his wife, Jessie, was pregnant again.

Pedro’s brothers were still living within a few miles. Matthew was living at 44 Sayer Street in Newington with his two sons Edward and Matthew. Matthew was still working as a fence painter and his sons were scene painters, perhaps for a west-end theatre. Meanwhile, Dominic and his family were living at 78 South Street in Camberwell. Dominic was a writer and artist and his eldest sons, Dominic and Claude helped their father in the print shop.

Pedro and Jessie’s third child, a baby girl, was born in the summer of 1881 and they named her Alice. Alice’s birth was followed by Daisy in the autumn of 1883 and finally Mary Dorothy Hand in spring 1890.

Happily for Pedro, there is evidence that his singing career continued following his return to London. The South London News reported on the 23^rd June 1883 that Pedro had performed at the Spa Tavern in Bermondsey. The review warmly praised his double-voiced vocal skills.

Unfortunately, the happiness did not last. His mother, Mary Ann’s  health worsened in the early months of 1886 and as she became more poorly she was admitted to the infirmary at Camberwell workhouse on Havill Street. She died of bronchitis on 13^th March 1886.

By the time the next census was taken in spring 1891, Pedro had reverted to his birth name Peter, suggesting perhaps that his singing days were over. By now the family had moved to 1 Lansdowne Place, Peckham close to the Old Kent Road. Peter was still a stone mason and his eldest daughter, Jane was working as a domestic servant. William, Alice and Daisy were all at school.     

The rest of the 1890s were apparently a difficult and sad time Peter and his family. Peter started experiencing mental illness which at some stage would have made it impossible to continue working. His illness would have placed a good deal of strain on the family, both emotionally and financially and with great reluctance Jessie is likely to have taken the decision to place him in the Havill Street workhouse.

As his condition deteriorated, he was moved into the infirmary. Once there, he was assessed and registered a lunatic.  By the 1890s it was standard policy to separate the mentally ill from the rest of the inmates and he was subsequently transferred to the Constance Road workhouse on Saturday 15^th April 1899 “for observation“. The workhouse was near to where he used to live in 1881 and was still close enough for Jessie and the children to visit him. At this time they were living at 54 Nutcroft Road in Peckham.  He remained at the Constance Road workhouse for less than a fortnight. He was assessed on Wednesday 26^th April and was transferred to Banstead Asylum in Surrey the following morning. The admissions book states that Peter was suffering from dementia and goes on to say that “he has but little idea of time or place. Degraded in habits. Delusions of identity” He did not survive in the asylum long and on 31^st May 1899 he succumbed to pneumonia. His death certificate also mentions ‘chronic brain wastage’ as his cause of death. The description of his death suggests he may have suffered from early onset Alzeimer’s disease which was not understood in those days. It was a terribly sad end to a man who had been blessed with the creative talents of stone carving and singing.

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