Announcement
Collapse
No announcement yet.
Biddy the Chiver’s Khazi
Collapse
X
-
-
-
-
-
Originally posted by Gary Barnett View PostI believe that ‘Patterson’ who made the notes about Bridget’s progress was Dr Arthur Edward Patterson, the Senior Assistant Physician at Stone from late 1891 until his death in 1917. He also attended James Evans/Joseph Fleming at the asylum.
The 1901 census shows two Pattersons at Stone:
Arthur Edward, Head, 37, physician and surgeon, born in India (British subject)
Charles Edward, Officer, 25 (?) physician and surgeon, born in Kidbrook, Kent.
The first name/initial(s) of the Dr who made Bridget’s notes is hard to decipher:
Any suggestions?
Leave a comment:
-
Originally posted by Gary Barnett View PostJust a reminder:
[ATTACH]20739[/ATTACH]
Edit: IPN 30/7/1910
Leave a comment:
-
I believe that ‘Patterson’ who made the notes about Bridget’s progress was Dr Arthur Edward Patterson, the Senior Assistant Physician at Stone from late 1891 until his death in 1917. He also attended James Evans/Joseph Fleming at the asylum.
Leave a comment:
-
Biddy’s Hair-do
Thanks to Howard for posting Richard Jones’ blog ‘A VOICE FROM THE EAST END’ which draws on an article that appeared in The Hackney and Kingsland Gazette on January 2nd, 1889. This extract provides some context for Bridget’s coiffure in the Stone photo:
Scattered about the streets adjoining Goswell and Whitechapel roads, and in the neighbourhood of Old Street, there are thousands of girls and women who manage to exist in some mysterious way. working late and early, or rather, slaving – one can call it nothing else – earning on average from three to six shillings a week.
These women and girls live two or three together in one room, generally a garret or a basement, and they deem themselves fortunate they earn enough to keep a shelter of some sort over their heads and the grim wolf, famine, from the door.
They are wretched-looking creatures, stunted, sallow, hollow-eyed, but with a sort of grim cheerfulness that is infinitely more melancholy that the loudest complaints: their hard noisy laughter is but the very mockery of mirth and happiness.
These women and girls are for the most part untidy, yet they have something distinctive about them. The women generally wear very small bonnets, tilted very far back, and shawls of a universal depressing grey; the girls affect “Ulsters” and hats of the most nondescript shape, composed of greasy, rusty velvet. A worsted muffler of some sort completes their costume, and their hair is usually cut short and very much frizzed.
I once asked one of those girls, a bonnet shape maker, how it was that she always found time to ‘do up’ her hair, no matter how tired she was; and she replied, “Well, it is the only thing I ever do for myself from week’s end to week’s end; it is the only pleasure I have in my life.”
Another girl, a pretty, delicate-looking girl, who was very lame, and who worked in a very small laundry. She was over the washtub all day, amid steam and the horrible atmosphere of soap suds, but her hair was almost always elaborately ‘frizzed’. She said, “If it weren’t for doin’ up her hair at night, she’d drown herself, or worse.”
This sort of incongruous personal decoration seems almost to have a trace of savagery in it. And, in truth, the conditions under which many women live and work in East London are very little short of barbarous; and, instead of finding fault with the unloveliness and untidiness of their lives and dream, one should only marvel how they manage to live and purchase any clothing at all, how they even contrive to keep body and soul together.
Leave a comment:
-
The Cowkeeper’s Wish
The Stone Asylum episode is available here:
In the 1840s, a young cowkeeper and his wife arrive in London, England, having walked from coastal Wales with their cattle. They hope to escape poverty, but instead they plunge deeper into it, and the family, ensconced in one of London’s “black holes,” remains mired there for generations. The Cowkeeper’s Wish follows the couple’s descendants in and out of slum housing, bleak workhouses and insane asylums, through tragic deaths, marital strife and war. Nearly a hundred years later, their great-granddaughter finds herself in an altogether different London, in southern Ontario. In The Cowkeeper’s Wish, Kristen den Hartog and Tracy Kasaboski trace their ancestors’ path to Canada, using a single family’s saga to give meaningful context to a fascinating period in history—Victorian and then Edwardian England, the First World War and the Depression. Beginning with little more than enthusiasm, a collection of yellowed photographs and a family tree, the sisters scoured archives and old newspapers, tracked down streets, pubs and factories that no longer exist, and searched out secrets buried in crumbling ledgers, building on the fragments that remained of family tales. While this family story is distinct, it is also typical, and so all the more worth telling. As a working-class chronicle stitched into history, The Cowkeeper’s Wish offers a vibrant, absorbing look at the past that will captivate genealogy enthusiasts and readers of history alike.
Leave a comment:
-
The Cowkeeper’s Wish: A Genealogical Journey
This book looks very interesting. It follows a family who trek from rural Wales to London in search of a better life, only to find themselves in the ‘black hole’ of the East End*. One member, Ellen Evans Roff, becomes a patient at Stone Asylum shortly after Bridget’s departure.
I’ve got the book on order and sadly I have to announce the extinction of the rare moth walletus barnettii.
*Looks like it may have been SE rather than E.
Leave a comment:
-
Originally posted by Gary Barnett View PostThanks, Anna, I see what you mean about the buttons. Other photos I’ve seen of reformatory inmates show them wearing a plain dress with a white apron over the top. Perhaps the jacket was added to make the photo look less institutional?
Biddy’s little curl reminds me of the poem attributed to Longfellow:
There was a little girl
Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good
She was very, very good,
But when she was bad she was horrid.
Leave a comment:
-
Originally posted by Phillip Walton View PostThere also appears to be some sort of stain on the front of her jacket near the third and fourth buttons. The jacket has seen better days and was almost certainly second hand.
Leave a comment:
-
There also appears to be some sort of stain on the front of her jacket near the third and fourth buttons. The jacket has seen better days and was almost certainly second hand.
Leave a comment:
-
Originally posted by Anna Morris View PostInterestingly, the light colored buttons look like they don't belong. The button holes are too big for those buttons. That is a fairly well tailored, probably wool suit jacket. It is possible the buttons were meant to be that way if the garment was designed to have something else like a wide sash at the waist. Alternatively, the original plan could have been for the matching buttons to be covered by a scarf, decoration or something similar, perhaps another bit of ruffle like what is around her neck. That bit looks atached to the collar. The light colored buttons look like metal. The dark ones could be a lot of things, maybe glass. What argues against the lght buttons being part of the original design is the size of the button holes, all of which could easily handle the large, dark buttons.
Biddy’s little curl reminds me of the poem attributed to Longfellow:
There was a little girl
Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good
She was very, very good,
But when she was bad she was horrid.
Leave a comment:
Leave a comment: