Cris de coeur
Introduction
Victorian Bournemouth (255) finds examples where a woman peppered her census listings with personal statements. She invaded the official formality of a census form by calling attention to her human rather than econometric condition. Genealogical analysis looks to uncover her reasons for this action
Victorian Bournemouth (255): early history
Second wife
The man and woman, James and Elizabeth, featured in this story both came from similar backgrounds. Their families farmed large acreages and held land as an investment. The male, her senior by thirteen years, came from Sussex, the woman from Towcester, Northamptonshire. He qualified as a physician, married a music teacher, the daughter of an accountant, and came to practise in Islington, London. Their union produced children. Before long, however, the doctor’s wife died, aged 40. Meanwhile, in Towcester, Elizabeth had reached adulthood. In 1878, now widowed a year, James visited Bournemouth. Here, he met Elizabeth, also visiting the resort. They married. Thereafter, the family’s home remained in the area, moving around Boscombe and Pokesdown. In the early years of their marriage, the couple produced several children. Those from the first marriage continued to live with their father and stepmother. For a while, life may have seemed good.
Cracks
Eventualities proved otherwise, however. A sign that problems in the relationship may have occurred appeared in the 1891 census. That year, James took most of his earlier children, now in their twenties, and the younger ones to Towcester, Elizabeth’s native town. They occupied a house on the High Street, a wine and spirit merchant on one side, a grocer on the other. By this time, the eldest son had also qualified as a physician. They came here, however, without Elizabeth. The census showed that she had remained in Pokesdown. It also reported that she occupied part of a plasterer’s cottage. She had a means of support because she listed an independent income. It seems strange that most of the children and their father would visit the mother’s home town without her. Her occupation of a plasterer’s cottage suggests that a fundamental split had occurred between James and Elizabeth.
Victorian Bournemouth (255): breakdown
Impact
James did not take the children to meet his wife’s parents, because they had both already died. Elizabeth’s father had left a respectable estate, perhaps enough for her independent income. Something had gone awry. Already before 1891, one of the older sons had left. Documents suggest that he travelled to New York when aged sixteen. Before long, he married an American, living in Cincinnati, where he made upholstery. Later, he and his wife retired to Monterey, California. One of James and Elizabeth’s daughters married a man from Switzerland or Germany. The couple thereafter lived in Berne. She travelled to the USA at least once, perhaps to visit her half-brother. Another daughter married a French market gardener. Although they ran a business in England, she took French citizenship. Other children, however, remained in England. One son had already become a physician, while another became a lawyer. Perhaps the split triggered fragmentation.
Later life
The 1901 census indicated that James had returned to the Bournemouth area. The family now occupied property on Southbourne Road. James referred to himself as both a physician and a gentleman. His father, dead early in James’s life, had not left a large estate. James began work as a chemist and druggist, but by 1901, he had travelled far: a qualified physician and the confidence to call himself a gentleman. He would continue living in the area until his demise in 1915, leaving a modest estate, his son by Elizabeth acting as executor. In 1901, the census shows the split had continued. James lived on Southbourne Road, with two of the children from Elizabeth, now adults. Meanwhile, on Granville Road, Pokesdown, not far from here, lived Elizabeth, on her own, in a villa. She began to communicate her condition through the census: deserted wife, letting her own furnished cottages.
Victorian Bournemouth (255): Cris de Coeur
Statements
Elizabeth saw the next two censuses as further opportunities to broadcast her condition. In 1911, now aged 60, she had moved within Pokesdown, near her previous residence. Still, she described herself as married, while emphasising her economic hardship. Her occupation field on the form read: ‘limited means derived from small cottage property, much trouble for small returns’. The death of her husband (1915) appears to have changed little in this respect. Her occupation for 1921 read: ‘constantly & hard occupied for a living in looking after own cottage property. Should be only thankful to be able to write out of work’. Elizabeth survived until 1943, living until over ninety. She left a modest estate. These statements, broadcast over three decades, provide a continuing insight into her inner life. In addition to reporting her social identity, therefore, the census reports express her feelings and anxieties about her lot.
Assessment
Elizabeth’s responses, therefore, stood in sharp contrast to how other Bournemouth people supplied information to the census enumerator. One lady gave her occupation as a ‘badly paid High Art Embroideress’ in 1891. Ten years later, however, her occupation appeared as a factual reference to needlework, all emotion quenched. Perhaps her condition had improved, but she may have resubscribed to society’s inclination to avoid airing dirty linen. Elizabeth’s example raises two questions. First, how did she manage, on three occasions, to persuade the enumerator not only to accept her statement but to preserve it? Within this question lies a further consideration: how did people perceive the census and its purpose? That point could extend wider to other instances of official data gathering. Why did some fathers-in-law ‘improve’ their occupation when providing information for wedding certificates? Second, how did other women in Elizabeth’s situation address their unhappiness?
Takeaway
Victorian Bournemouth (255) has followed the life of Elizabeth, who used the census as a medium to communicate her broken marital relationship. Her cris de coeur, embalmed by the census, stood the test of time. The unusual nature of her response raises questions about how people perceived the census and the commonality of her condition.
References
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