The Biggest Memorial Stone that Passmore Edwards contemplated raising did not, however, materialise. R S Best “The Life & Good Works of John Passmore Edwards, 1981.
A short time after I erected the Falmouth Hospital, and when I was presented with the honorary freedom of the borough in September, 1893, I said, at the complimentary dinner which followed, that, as Cornwall was mainly surrounded by the sea, I should like, in the interests of sailors of all lands, to build a lighthouse somewhere on the Cornish coast; and as there was a point near by – the Manacles, notorious for the disastrous shipwrecks they occasioned – it might be a fitting place for such a lighthouse; and, if built, I should like to dedicate it to the memory of Couch Adams, the distinguished mathematician, and joint discoverer with Le Verrier of the planet Neptune. I should also like to pay a similar tribute of respect to Le Verrier, and erect to his memory a similar lighthouse on the coast of France. Such sister lighthouses, if erected, might complacently glance at each other, and mutually promote a friendly feeling between two sister nations-England and France. The matter was subsequently talked over with the Mayor and others of Falmouth, when it was decided that I should provide a free library for the town in preference to building a lighthouse. Passmore Edwards had originally planned to build a lighthouse on the North Cornish Coast, at St Agnes Beacon but this offer was also declined by Trinity House. It is interesting to note that, subsequent to a loss of a vessel on the Manacles the Falmouth Harbour Commissioners petitioned Trinity House for a Lighthouse, or lightship to be stationed there. The West Briton of 29 May 1890 reported that the Harbour Commissioners had received a response from Trinity House rejecting the request. It was argued that during weather conditions when the existing lights were visible, they would be sufficient to enable mariners to avoid the Manacles whilst in weather when no lights were visible “the lead is the only safe guide”.
Well before Edwards commenced his period of “relentless giving” he was already giving large numbers of books to communities and his name appeared on many subscription lists following natural disasters and major accidents . These are just a few of his many other gifts and donations together with some of the offers that failed to reach completion
The Mary Ward Settlement, designed in 1895, marks an inspired moment in British arcitecture…. The settlement is also a wonderful example of a social ideal being expressed in architecture. Adrian Forty writing in The Architects’ Journal, 2 August 1989
History
Towards the latter part of the 19th century “Carlyle, Meredith, William Morris, Tennyson, Mathew Arnold and a host of other profound intellects were all alike alive to the troubles and injustices of the time. Oxford men and others inspired mainly by the philosophy of T H Green were starting the Settlement movement. Not unnaturally these minds began to query the validity of the hitherto accepted creeds. The distortion of social tradition was called into question. How far was wealth providing benefit to the community? How far was the religion of that time expressed so as to meet the needs of a submerged people? Perhaps no book caused greater discussion on the later subject than Mrs Humprey Ward’s three volumes of “Robert Elsmere”. This book was eagerly bought and read by thousands and thousands; for the authoress had well read the significant symptoms of spiritual unrest in the country.” (History of the Mary Ward settlement 1891-1931- John Rodgers). Mary Humprey Ward, wife of an Oxford Don and grand daughter of Thomas Arnold, headmaster of Rugby School, was a woman of actions as well as ideals. She had already established a settlement at University Hall, London in 1891 and this success inspired her to seek funding for a purpose built centre. Amongst those that she approached was Passmore Edwards although he, at first, offered little more than encouragement saying that he “had his hands full at present and was thus unable to help”. He was, however, soon to be persuaded and within 2 months he had promised to support her proposals. In March 1895 he wrote “You are quite at liberty to pledge me to the extent of £7,000 and if you insist in calling it the Passmore Edwards Settlement then I must insist on increasing my donation to £10,000”.
In the next few years he was to support her not only by sums of money totalling over £12,000 but readily gave her advice on who else to approach and took a close interest in the details of the site chosen and the proposed contractual arrangements with the landowner, the Duke of Bedford. The chosen site was in Tavistock Place and a competition for its design was held and won by two young architects who had been residents at the University Hall Settlement, Dunbar Smith and Cecil Brewer. Both in their mid 20’s this was their first major project and yet is a major architectural achievement. A contemporary account of the Settlement building can be found here. (Source unknown).
The Settlement was an immediate success, attracting ordinary local people who paid the few pence annual membership fee and took advantage of the settlements facilities. They could learn practical skills, attend concerts, or use the gymnasium, and join the many groups, such as the coal club or boot club, as well as take advantage of the Poor man’s lawyer – free legal assistance given by the lawyers that were amongst the Settlements residents.
art classes
woodwork class
Music was an important part of the Settlement, Gustav Holst was Musical Director for a while, and Edwards contributed, as reports of the Passmore Edwards Prize Choir, a ladies choir performing at Claremont Hall, Pentonville shows.
the gardens
pottery class
The Settlement was also a centre for debate with George Bernard Shaw and Kier Hardie amongst the lecturers and the Jowett Lectures becoming a regular feature. The Settlement was also a firm favourite with Edwards, who was often to be found amongst both the contributors and the audience and he chose the Settlement to receive seven of the memorial busts he commissioned.
Invalid Children’s School and Summer Vacation Schools
The Settlement’s mother and toddlers club was the start of the Play Centre movement and in 1899 Ward opened the first school for physically handicapped children, again with the help of Passmore Edwards. This was the first such school to be formed in the UK and possibly in the world. His initial response was to offer only £10 a year towards the required £100 a year but in spite of his’ reluctance to contribute the Invalid Children’s School opened the following year and was an instant success. So much so that plans were made to build an annex adjacent to the Settlement, at 9 Tavistock Place, with Edwards providing £1,000 towards the cost. In its new home the school was endowed by the London School Board, who supplied trained teachers for the classes, whilst the Settlement provided classrooms, nurses to look after the children and mid day meals. The School was so successful that the School Board resolved to start four other schools in different parts of London and by 1903 Schools for the “Physically Defective” had been adopted into the National School system. In 1902, the first Vacation School in England was held at the Settlement, for London children otherwise left to roam the streets during the school holidays. Passmore Edwards would regularly include a cheque of £20 or £25 towards the Vacation Schools or “£5 for the Girls Seaside Holiday Fund”.
After the death of Mary Ward, in 1921, and with the agreement of the Passmore Edwards family, the centre was renamed the Mary Ward Settlement and in 1970 the Mary Ward Centre. Though the success of the Settlement rests firmly with the inspiration and hard work of Mary Ward, Passmore Edwards’ contribution was no less significant. The Mary Ward Centre continues to thrive, but, alas, not in Tavistock Place. During the 1930s the Management Council considered moving the Settlement to Islington, where some considered there was more work to be done than in Bloomsbury, and the lease was sold back to the Bedford Estate to kick start an appeal and plans drawn up for a new building. With war, on the horizon the move did not take place and the Estate allowed the Settlement to remain on a 6-month lease. This situation continued until 1959 when, to offset death duties, the Estate sold the property for redevelopment. Though immediate action to get the building listed put paid to the redevelopment plans it did not stop the Estate from wanting to sell the buildings. An appeal by the Settlement Council brought only a substantial positive response from the Nuffield Foundation and Joseph Rowntree Trust, who were looking for a headquarters for the newly formed National Institute for Social Work Training. By now the LCC had closed the Physically Handicapped School and the Settlement’s Council was offered the annex in which to continue their work, on a 5-year renewable lease. In 1982, no longer able to afford the rent the Settlement finally moved to Queens Square where it remains today providing a wide range of courses; its aims, as they were in 1897 –‘To promote public education and social service for the benefit of the community’. The National Institute for Social Work Training has also vacated Tavistock Place and it is now a privately owned conference centre, known as Mary Ward House.
Arnold Dunbar Smith (1866-1993), born in Islington, was apprenticed to J.G. Gibbons of Brighton in 1883 and studied at the Brighton School of Art and the Architectural Association in London.. He worked for Millard & Baggallay between 1884 and 1895 while he continued his studies and during this time entered the Royal Academy Schools as well as traveling in France, Belgium, Germany and Switzerland.
Cecil Claude Brewer (1871-1919) was apprenticed to F.T. Baggallay between 1890 and 1893. After a brief period at the Clifton College (1889) he continued his studies at the University College in London, where he received the Donaldson Medal in 1890, and, from 1891 to 1893 the Architectural Association, winning the silver Medals for 1892 and 1893 as well as the AA Traveling Studentship in 1894. From 1893 to 1898 he studied at the Royal Academy Schools where he won the Gold Medal and Traveling Studentship, He traveled in France, England, Italy, Belgium and the Netherlands.
Smith and Brewer formed a partnership in 1895 in London and in the same year won the competition for the Passmore Edwards Settlement in Tavistock Place, London which established their reputation as arts and crafts architects working in the so-called “Free Style” of the 1890s (an attempt to create a new architectural style for England). The firm designed mainly domestic work utilising vernacular traditions (such as Fives Court, Pinner Middlesex) until 1909 when they won the competition for the National Museum of Wales (1910) in Cathays Park, Cardiff. This monumental building, one of the earliest in Great Britain to utilize the Beaux-Arts style then popular in the United States, signaled a change in direction for the firm. The Arts and Crafts Movement was failing and architects were returning to classicism, particularly for large, public buildings. The innovative design of Heal’s Furniture Store (1916), however, suppressed the classical imagery in favour of an honest expression of the steel frame structure of the building.After Brewer’s death in 1918, Smith continued the work of the firm and designed many houses as well as additions to the Fitzwilliam Museum (1924-1933). In 1930, J.A. Meikle and K.W.F. Harris became partners under the firm name of A. Dunbar Smith. After Smith’s death in 1933, Meikle, Harris and Sidney Clark continued the practice under the original firm name of Smith and Brewer. The firm was dissolved with the death of Clark in 1949.
A literary Institute was formed in Acton in 1857 with a reading room and lending library in Mill Hill Grove, which was open two evenings a week. Subscription was 5/- a year. By 1875 the Institute was renting a room in Acton Local Board Offices where Daily and Weekly newspapers were available. The reading room was open throughout the year and had 1400 books in circulation. There were also small libraries in the Working Men’s Clubs at Steyne, South Acton and Acton Green. In 1887 the Acton School Board decided to provide books for older children to borrow.In October 1888 a great storm flooded the Board Offices at Steyne causing the books to be lost and the Institute to close. However, the Acton Local Board was already discussing the provision of a free library. The Public Libraries Acts of 1855 -1889 allowed for the setting up of a library paid for from a 1d rate. There were campaigners on both sides. Acton ratepayers were already facing increased rates to pay for a new drainage and sewerage scheme and for the purchase and laying out of Acton Park. A referendum took place in 1887 and the proposal was lost by a significant majority. The Local Government Act of led to the formation of the Middlesex County Council and from 1895, the Acton Urban District Council, led, from 1898 to 1990 by E F Hunt as Chairman. The Councillors wanted to give Acton some standing as a town. A public Libray fitted the bill well. WC Smith of the Philanthropic Society , who had been instrumental in obtaining a grant from Passmore Edwards towards building a cottage hospital, subsequently obtained a promise from him of £4000 towards the costs of a library. On 4 January 1898 the Public Libraries Act of 1892 was adopted by the Council. They paid £850 to the Trustees of the Baptist Church for land at the corner of Winchester Street and the High Street applied to the Local Government Board for permission to raise loans of £850 and a further £5500 to cover costs. The building was designed by Maurice Adams FRIBA of South East Acton and the firm of Sidney Powell of Woodstock Rd, Acton chosen as the builder. The foundation stone was laid, by Lord George Hamilton, the local MP in December 1898 and on Friday, 3 January 1900, at 3pm, the Amercian Ambasador, the Hon Joseph H Coates opened the Acton Public Library reading rooms, in the presence of EF Hunt, Lord George Hamilton MP, the Bishop of London, their wives and some 1396 Acton people The building, of red brick and Portland stone, was described as being “in the English Renaissance Style”, ” of a solid and chaste appearance”, “an imposing edifice. The total cost was £6690. Lit by gas but wired for electricity ready for when Acton had its own electricity works, the library consisted of a Reference room, a magazine room and a lending library with 10 standard bookcases and a spiral staircase to the upstairs gallery. There were 8000 books, some donated but all new, including “wholesome literature for children” obtained within the limit of the 1d rate. Under the control of the librarian, Herbert Shuttleworth, the lending of books commenced on 2 February, 1900, books available one at a time for a week only and 1d fine for late return.
Following the success of the opening of the South London Art Gallery, Passmore Edwards readily agreed to fund the building of a Lecture hall and reading room.He was later to fund an associated Technical Institution.
History
Born the son of a portmanteau maker, in 1831, William Rossiter advanced his education by attendance at the Workingmen’s College to the extent that he became at teacher at the College. In 1868 the South London Workingmen’s College opened with Rossiter as the manager. This was later extended, in 1878, to include a Free Library, the first in South London and within months Rossiter had borrowed pictures for the library walls where exhibitions were held during the summer months. Over the years the “Gallery” became more prominent and was moved first to Battersea and then to Camberwell, described at the time as the “very heart of the great intellectual desert of South London”. In 1889 Rossiter bought the freehold of Portland House, an impressive building on Peckham Road, for £2400 in which he was to live and to construct a small gallery in the grounds. The gallery opened in 1891 under difficult financial circumstances. One of the features of the gallery was that it opened on a Sunday, when working men could visit and it was mainly for that reason that, at the first AGM Passmore Edwards offered £3000 to fund a new lecture room and library. Not only was the gallery open on Sundays but it was free to enter and children were not only welcomed but were given free instruction and recreation. The new building, designed by Maurice Adams was opened on 21 March 1893 by the Prince of Wales, (King Edward VII).
A friend of my mothers, Auntie D. we called her – and who we were all very fond of – was a nurse and had a friend who was Matron of a Shaftesbury Children’s Home in Bournemouth on the south coast and she suggested to me one day that I might consider the possibility of working there. The seed was sown – it would be a means of escape, escape from restrictions, escape from the rut I felt I was in – to be my own person. New horizons loomed, and I decided this is what I would do. And so I made the break and set off amid long faces and tears for the Victoria Cripples Home (V.C.H.) in Bournemouth on the 22nd of September of my 22nd year (1932). I had given little thought as to what the work at the Home would entail – it would have been well had I done so and so avoided the shock that awaited me. On arrival I was briefed as to my duties, which were to start the following morning, and given my uniform, a blue and white striped dress that had evidently been worn by someone who was definitely not my size! And a white cap which had to be ‘made up’ from a large square of material. The Home catered for boys and girls from babies to ten year olds, all physically handicapped. I was to work in the boys’ house with 23 boys. The middle aged woman in charge of this house was well regarded because of her ability to maintain discipline and run an orderly house. This reputation I found she earned by her harsh and iron rule, applied to both children and staff. Our day started early – on duty by six o’clock to get the boys up, washed and dressed and taken over to the dining room for breakfast, after which they were taken outside to the toilets and then to the school which was in the grounds. Having deposited them there we did housework. We had to make all the beds – mattresses turned once a week – before breakfast – besides doing cleaning – no modern day helps with that – and washing by hand the boys’ socks and vests. The cleaning was hard physical work and my duty included scrubbing a large washroom floor. Our work was inspected and I was told off for omitting to scrub the step!
At ten o’clock we had a break when we went to the dining room and were given cocoa and large slices of bread and dripping! Our uniforms included detachable long sleeves which off-duty had to be worn, including break times. One day one of the girls could only find one sleeve and in her hurry to get to the break, came without it, whereupon she was promptly sent back to find it, and that day missed her cocoa and bread and dripping! With all the hard work we used to get very hungry and to miss break was a disaster so we all felt very sorry for her.
After break which lasted 10 minutes it was back to more housework and then to collect the children and take them to dinner. We then had our mid-day meal attended by matron and her assistant and served by one of the senior ‘nurses’. (We were, most inappropriately, given the title of ‘nurse’). I had always hated milk puddings. My mother had always made me eat them, but of late I had avoided them like the plague. So now I politely asked, when my turn came, not to be served any. The server looked shocked and turned to Matron who said sternly “But nurse you eat what you are given”, and so I perforce did! So I learned to keep the rules. Maybe if I had mislaid my sleeves I would have missed my dinner! Then it was getting the children to school and back for more housework for two hours until we again collected the children. Sometimes we had to take them for a walk, just marching them in an orderly line around the streets. Some of them made very slow progress because of their disabilities, and as the winter came we all got very cold. After tea we took the boys to the ‘playroom’. The poor mites didn’t know how to play. There were no toys – just a big ugly bare room. They were so repressed – their meal times had to be silent, and they had to do something with their energy and all they knew to do was rampage about, yell and fight. They were quite uncontrollable. Then it was getting them to bed. Twice a week we bathed them and the other days we took them out six at a time to strip-wash. There were two of us to look after these 23 boys and when one of us was off duty we had to follow this procedure alone. This was a nightmare! While supervising the six in the washroom, the rest would run amok. On one occasion when I was coping alone Matron unexpectedly walked in on this bedlam and exclaimed “But nurse, what is going on?” The boys were scared of her and stopped in their tracks, open-mouthed. We were not supposed to be disorderly or noisy – and if she could instantly get order why could not I? We had two hours off duty each day if we were lucky enough to get off in time – it was a long day and by this time we were so tired that sometimes we were glad just to creep into bed. There was a staff room, but no one seemed to have time to relax in it. I discovered that the ‘nurses’ seldom stayed very long so there were constant staff changes. After a while I was given a new room-mate, Betty Haliday whose home was in Bournemouth where her father had been mayor. She had come after me and too was appalled at the situation. She had a lovely sense of humour which helped us get through the days as we commiserated with each other at the end of the day and we became great friends, a friendship which lasted for many years. She introduced me to her parents and I was welcome in their home. It was bliss when off-duty I would sometimes go and visit them just to relax in an easy chair and enjoy home comforts. Unfortunately Betty worked in the girls’ house so didn’t see her much during the day. In writing to her mother she once said “Eve and I are so desperately tired when we get to bed, too tired even to say our prayers, so one night I say ‘Thank-you God for our bed’ and Eve says ‘Amen’, and the next night she says it and I say ‘Amen’. Yes, her sense of humour certainly helped. On each Sunday we had to take a group of the boys to church marching them there in crocodile lines. It was not exactly a happy occasion – we were always worrying in case they misbehaved or caused some kind of disturbance but they never did. It could not have been a happy experience for them either. I am sure they had no idea what it was all about – what did they know of love, God’s or the human kind either. Their physical needs were catered for adequately, but they were hardly treated as human beings. We were actually told never to get too close to them and, indeed, we never had the chance to do so. We were so harassed and rushed we never had time to talk to them individually or to show them any love or affection – one would hardly treat a herd of animals such. They certainly never knew what normal childhood was. I feel sad now as I think of them, and wonder what happened to them. It would not be surprising if they grew up, sub-normal, full of hate and resentment, or turned to crime to compensate. The Home was well thought of in the town and when visitors came, as they did, they saw nothing wrong – all was clean and orderly, and the children awed and cowed into good behaviour. I now realized what a sheltered and pampered life I had led. I had always been sheltered and protected from anything unpleasant. I had never before done any hard physical work. Early cups of tea in bed were the order of the day, a warm cosy home and good meals prepared. What a contrast to my life now and what a shock it was to be landed in it. I confess I was homesick and as time went on, wanted once more to escape from my circumstances! Betty too, had had enough and we decided to give in our notice. However when I bearded Matron in her den to do just that, I met with strong opposition. She made it plain that she thought it was a very bad idea, expressed sadness that I should want to go and did all she could to make me rethink and stay on for a while. I don’t think it was personal regret, but it seems strange that she could not see why she had difficulty in keeping folk to stay. Anyway she made me feel guilty in leaving her in the lurch. Anyway I left her office no nearer to getting my freedom. The same thing happened to Betty so there we were ruefully commiserating with each other. So we struggled on. (We tried again a bit later and the same thing happened, such was Matron’s forceful domination.) Things did not improve. I got a whitlow on my finger which was very painful and gave me sleepless nights. I was still scrubbing floors with my hands in dirty water; it was fortunate I did not get blood poisoning! It was now winter and very cold. There was no heating in our room or the boys’ dormitory and getting them up in those early dark mornings was something to be endured. Besides having a two-hour break during our long day (and we were lucky if we ever got a full two hours) we were given a whole day once a month. This was bliss, and I had been getting as far from V.C.H. as I could for as long as I could. Now that it was so cold and wintry I decided to stay in bed for a while hugging my hot-water bottle. How wonderful not to have to emerge from the sheets around 5:30 am. On these days one of the maids brought breakfast to our room. I hated milk puddings but I hated porridge even more. I had so far been able to avoid it at breakfast, Matron not gracing us with her presence then. But on this particular day there appeared a large plate of it. In spite of my entreaties to take it away it was more than she dared do. So there it was staring me in the face and I suddenly felt very angry. How dare anybody decree that my wonderful free day which I was all set to enjoy, should be spoiled by making me eat porridge. So up I got, and making sure no one was around, tipped it all down the loo. Then I felt better! Sometimes one of the boys had to go to London for a medical treatment or check-up and Matron would detail one of us to take him. She evidently thought that this was such a privilege that we would have to go on our free day. It was the only occasion that there was any chance of having any one to one conversation. Some of them were not very bright and conversation was difficult. But these poor love-starved little creatures knew not how to communicate – grown-ups had apparently never or seldom talked to them and they were so repressed and cowed that they took no interest in anything that a normal child would. They just did not know how to respond. On my second trip to London I went to bring back a boy who had spent a week-end with his family. His mother had brought him to the station where I met them. On leaving with him his mother said “We liked having him but I know it’s best for him to be in the Home, he’s having such good care there”. Their physical needs were certainly met, but I wanted, but dare not say to her “I think you should take him home and just give him love”. The families these children came from were mostly poor and I suppose they thought that the good food and physical care was most important. Stanley, the little boy was so miserable and on the way home I could not get a word out of him. He was so sad for a long time afterwards and kept asking if it was Sunday. When asked why he said, “That’s when my brother is coming to see me”. Apparently he had been given this false hope in order to cheer him up. They must have known they could not keep their promise. Poor little boy – I have thought of Stanley often over the years – why did nobody see the awful truth of the situation. And yet, when one was there and trying to cope with it all one tended to become hardened and accept the situation. There was no time to think and I think I could not have survived if there had been. And so Christmas came and went and what a dreadful time it was. All the work had to be coped with as usual. In the morning, there being no school, we took the boys on a walk – a long crocodile line making our slow way through the cold and damp streets. I think we girls all longed for home as we saw through the windows the happy families and the bright decorations and Christmas trees. But I doubt if the children even comprehended what it was all about. Some of the children received parcels from home. Whether they had been told only to send eatables I don’t know, but they mostly contained only a few sticky sweets inadequately wrapped and not easy to deal with. The children never had toys; they possessed nothing of their own, they had no lockers or space of their own to keep anything. And so the day drearily passed. When we had got the children to bed some of us did get together in the staffroom, took some eats and had a bit of a party, but I think none of us were feeling very festive. Letters from home had always contained what I think were intended as enticements to bring me home. Not overt requests, but descriptions of lovely blazing fires and cosy family gatherings, etc. After that dreary Christmas those pictures of home comforts were too alluring to be resisted any longer and I resolved to make yet another bid to get away from V.C.H. This time I was successful. I think Matron realized she was beaten and could no longer persuade me to stay, so at the end of January I was able to say farewell to V.C.H. and all its misery. Soon afterwards Betty was able to give in her final notice and we rejoiced together! After working out my notice, thankfully the day came when I finally said goodbye to V.C.H. and headed home.
Five years old and time to start school. We now lived in Station Road, Sutton, Surrey. Surrey County Council did not have provision in its system for the education of physically handicapped children, so I was temporarily accommodated in a local school until I could be ‘suitably placed.’ Placement eventually was in the Victoria Home for Crippled Children in Bournemouth, Southern England. Being taken away from my mum, dad, gran and extended family for no apparent reason was very upsetting for me. I have certain memories of this ‘Home’ – not many of them very pleasant. In retrospect, I suppose the administrators and staff did what they thought was best for the inmates. We had to make our own beds and the bedcovers all had to have boxed, hospital corners. I can assure you, making a neat bed when merely five years old and only having one controllable hand, was not the easiest thing to manage. However, in hindsight, it instilled a degree of independence into me. When we went to bed at night, we were tucked in, with about a nine inch turn-down of sheet with our heads sticking out. This turn-down was smoothed by the nurse. If we moved and crinkled this turn-down, we were in trouble in the morning and punished accordingly! Every Thursday we were given a dose of Californian Syrup of Figs and every month a dose of castor oil in orange juice. If you’d been well behaved, you also got a quarter of a fresh orange. This is a reflection on the ‘dietary excellence’ of the times. Porridge was served for breakfast every morning. I have a palate which causes me to gag on any food with a slippery texture, porridge being one of them. I have not been able to eat porridge ever since that time. At afternoon tea we often had bread with demerara sugar on it. I became quite expert at losing it under someone else’s seat, as did we all with whatever we could not eat or disliked. A big thing with the ‘Home’ was sharing which, in hindsight was fair, but at the time, was very painful. One Christmas or birthday, they are within two days of each other so it’s hard to tell which, I received an aeroplane with lights in it and propellers which went around. It was given to me to play with for about ten minutes then it became communal property and was broken almost at once. At Easter, all the chocolate eggs were displayed then broken up and a piece given to each child. I’m sure not all the eggs went to the children for we should have had at least two eggs each. Once a ripe pear dropped from a neighbour’s tree into our playground. It was divided up into about quarter-inch cubes for everyone to have a taste. So small a taste, I don’t remember the taste, but I do remember the size! My favourite time at the ‘Home’ was when were taken by school bus to the beach. There was a hut which contained all sorts of beach implements for us to play with, including buckets, spades, barrows, rakes and an assortment of bits and pieces to tempt our imaginations. My favourite was a hand-roller with which I used to make, to my mind, the most intricate road layouts in the sand. I was always sad to leave the beach and my network of roads to wherever. A memorable occasion occurred when we were informed there would be no lights at night and we must keep our gas masks close by us. Of course I deduced later this was the beginning of WWII. By this time we had each been allocated a gas mask and shown how to use it. That night I saw the shadow of a witch on the wall which frightened me immensely. On looking back, it must have been the night nurse doing her rounds. She carried a masked torch which threw her shadow, complete with nurse’s headgear, giving a pointed witch-hat shadow, on to the ward wall. It scared the shit out of me! My observations and feelings about this ‘Home’ were confirmed years later by another person who had been institutionalised there, just before I was. She was about five years older than me. Our times of incarceration could even have overlapped. Her name was Lily Leach. She had been born with a stump slightly above where her left hand should have been. Lily was a shorthand-typist at the firm where my mother worked. Despite having only one hand, her shorthand and typing speeds were of the highest calibre. When I was about fourteen, my mother and I had a week’s holiday at a bed-and-breakfast lodging in Brighton. Lily spent a day with us. We went swimming. Lily was wearing the latest fashion in swimming costumes, made of nylon. She looked very glamourous, specially to my fourteen-year-old eyes, for when she emerged from the water the wet costume was totally transparent!!! My mother was a widow and Lily promised she would initiate me into the art of lovemaking if my mother ever became engaged to be married again. When my mother did, Lily didn’t!!! She was a gutsy lady. When I last saw her, she was married with a beautiful child, performing marvels managing the complexities of baby-handling with her stump. Finally I was released from the ‘Home’ after eighteen months of frustrating bureaucratic battle by my parents. The uncertainty of war and what it might involve allowed the authorities to set me free, back into the custody of my parents.
One of almost 200 homes founded by the Ragged School Union, the Holiday Home for Crippled Children at Bournemouth was funded by Passmore Edwards to accomodate 20 children.
History
Passmore Edwards was approached by John Kirk, the Secretary of the Ragged School Union and Shaftesbury Society for help with funding of a further home for crippled children, which he suggested should be located at Bournemouth, where Capt. and Mrs Harrison had already rented a house as a temporary home. Passmore Edwards agreed and without a formal foundation stone laying Mssrs McWilliam & Sons, of Bournemouth were commenced building the home to the design of the architect, Frederick Warman. The home was opened on 14 June 1898 by the Marquis of Northampton, President of the Ragged School Union, who expressed his greatest satisfaction in being present to perform such a pleasant duty. He said that the Home could not fail to be of service, as many would by its assistance be strengthened, and others probably completely restored. Cases had occurred in some of the Ragged School Union Homes of children who came as helpless cripples, and returned able to walk; and all, whether their stay in the Homes was long or short, were more or less benefited. Their Bournemouth Home, to accommodate 20 children, was intended to be a home in the best sense of the word; and it would, strictly speaking, be a holiday home. Under the doctor’s advice and attention, the little ones would have good air, shelter, care protection and healthy and agreeable recreation. The Home was built close to Alum Chine and the sea in one of the most picturesque districts of Bournemouth. It originally catered for 23 children, the majority from London but occasionally including local boys or girls, under the control of Miss Scott, the Matron, with only two assistants. The staff undoubtedly worked very hard since some of the children were unable even to feed themselves. The average stay was usually six months but a few stayed much longer.
A reporter writing in the Bournemouth Graphic in February 1903 described the children she saw there. ” The youngest, a child of three, suffering from a bad form of rickets and with legs bandaged in splints, and utterly helpless, I found amusing itself with a huge rag doll, a recent gift to the Home. It was a delightfully warm morning and all those unable to walk were lying in invalid carriages out of door, breathing the pure, clean air which is such an essential part of their cure here, though it made one’s heart ache to think that many of these little suffers would never be able to walk, for the majority of the cases treated are either spinal curvature or hip disease. This home is intended to complete the cure often commenced in hospital or the operating theatre, and the children are sent to be nursed slowly back to health.” “Those that were able to walk were preparing to go down to the beach where they had a pleasant little shelter of their own which makes a splendid playhouse and prevents the children from getting wet in case of showers. Very gentle and kindly they appear to one another; one boy carefully lifting a tiny tot, partially paralysed, into a mailcart and wheeling him away. Indeed the question of locomotion is a difficult one, as it is not easy to ascend and descend Alum Chine and two nurses cannot wheel a dozen heavy boys and girls, or superintend cases continuously in a recumbent position, as many of these are, and so some day they are hoping that some charitably disposed friend will present a pony or donkey and cart to the Institution”. Whether as a direct result of this report is not recorded but photograph appeared in the Shaftesbury Society Magazine of 1917 showing the children in a donkey cart outside the Home.
The cost of the maintenance of the Home was met by the Ragged School Union but the people of Bournemouth were ready contributors, providing £100 per year whilst local ladies gave of their time, teaching, visiting or generally amusing the children. Sometimes the children were invited out to tea in Bournemouth homes and many gifts of clothing or cakes were received. An annual concert was held in the Bourne Hall with the proceeds going to the Home. An additional wing was added in 1905, opened by the Lady Ashley, providing accommodation, on the ground floor, for children unable to be taken upstairs to the original dormitories. Previously the ground floor playroom had been converted into a dormitory for these children and a temporary playroom established upstairs In November 1916 the winter gales wrecked the beach shelter that had been the gift of readers of the “Sunday Companion” A new appeal was launched by the magazine to replace the shelter the following summer. Recognising the need to provide an education during the lengthy stays, part time teachers had been appointed but at the end of 1916 the Home was registered as a “residential school for crippled children”. At the beginning of 1917 Miss Amy Bradbury was appointed as the first full time teacher. The School log for 18 Jan 1917 records that there was no school during the afternoon in view of the opening ceremony by the Lord Bishop of London, At that time the Shaftesbury Society had more than 7000 names of handicapped children on their register, from 5 to 10 years of age, suffering from “tuberculosis or other diseases of bones or joints, crippling from infantile paralysis or accident”. The Home and school continued to grow, an open air School House being erected in 1920 and in August 1925 the adjacent property, Hope Lodge, was purchased, to be used entirely for sleeping quarters, increasing the accommodation from 30 to 52 children. Miss Gertrude B Dyer replaced Miss Bradbury as head teacher in 1919 and remained at the school until her retirement in 1944. Some 1168 pupils had passed through the School during her time. Classes were often conducted out of doors or on the beach and in September 1931, “38 of the best walkers were taken to Studland Bay”. Charles Irwin was one of the many children who passed through the home during this time. His account does not, however, paint the rosy picture given in the official files. The account of a young woman who went to work at the home in 1932 similarly paints a more rigorous life for both staff and pupils. As the types of handicap provided for became more severe it became evident that the Almhurst Road premises were no longer adequate and a decision was taken in spring 1956 to purchase a new site and construct new purpose built premises at an estimated cost of between £50,000 and £60,000.
The new Home, now the Victoria School, was opened at Lindsay Road, Branksome in 1958 in the presence of the Earl of Shaftesbury, president of the Shaftesbury Society, of which the Home is a branch. The new home, situated adjacent to a Carmelite Monastery, was opened by his daughter Lady Dorothea who had also laid the foundation stone two years earlier. During the week there was a gala ball at the Bournemouth Pavilion which raised over £200 for the Home. The highlight of the evening was a visit to the Home by Cyril Fletcher who sent a message of thanks from the children to the Pavilion by a relay of torch bearers. He later attended the gala evening to entertain the audience with his “odd odes”. At a total cost of £70,000 the new premises provided top floor accommodation for the nursing staff and a large well-equipped playroom on the ground floor, two classrooms, and a treatment room with indoor bath for water exercises. A lift was installed and children are accommodated in 4 “family “groups. The building was electrically heated with its own laundry, a sick bay and isolation unit and is set in spacious grounds with outdoor paddling pool and a tennis court for the staff. Under Miss P Simmonds, Matron, Miss M Jones, headmistress, Miss D Forrester, physiotherapist, Mrs R Beale, Chairman, and the surgeons, nurses, teachers and other staff the Victoria Home and School continued to serve. In the mid 1960’s the original Victoria Home in Almhurst Road was demolished and replaced with residential flats called “Burnaby Court.
Victoria Education Centre
The Victoria Education Centre remains part of the Shaftesbury Society, a national Christian Charity providing care, education and support for children, students and adults with disabilities at over 50 sites. Today, the Victoria Centre, comprising School, Carmel House for post 16 students, Residential Departments, Victoria Horticulture Centre and Centre for Assessment and Therapy, is recognised as one of the finest specialist centres of its kind.
