Down and Out in Thaxted and Barnston

Ruth Selman blogs for us about her research for her PhD ‘The Landscape of Poverty in Later Stuart Essex’…

Essex Record Office has just launched a small exhibition on poverty in Essex in the late seventeenth century which can be viewed in the Searchroom at Chelmsford. This is based on my research into the scale and nature of poverty in Essex between 1660 and 1700 for a PhD at the University of Roehampton. I am studying records held by Essex Record Office and The National Archives with the aim of identifying who was poor at that time and how the experiences of being poor differed within communities and across Essex as a whole.

The records of the hearth tax, which mainly date from the 1660s and 1670s, give us a glimpse into the varied circumstances of Essex residents at that date. Every liable householder was required to pay a shilling for each hearth in their dwelling twice a year – at Lady Day (25 March) and Michaelmas (29 September). In an attempt to ensure that all revenue due to the Crown was collected, even those exempt from paying the tax were recorded in the returns. Exemption was granted to those who lacked the wherewithal to pay local church and poor rates, and to those who paid twenty shillings or less rent for their houses and whose goods were worth less than ten pounds. With three hearths or more, however, there was no avoiding the tax collector even if you met the other criteria.

This extract from the hearth tax return for Michaelmas 1670 lists some of the householders in Thaxted and notes that there were also 40 people in receipt of alms (charitable payments or parish relief). 

Q/RTh 5 – hearth tax return for Thaxted, Michaelmas 1670

The proportions of householders exempt from the hearth tax varied greatly across the county. The parishes closest to London tended to exhibit the lowest rates of exemption with an average of about 23%, possibly reflecting the relative prosperity brought by proximity to the London market. Those in the north and north-west of the county saw much higher exemption rates averaging about 63%.  This may well have reflected the vulnerability of the many workers in the cloth industry who were based in that area.  Interruptions to trade caused by wars, disease and local crises could result in a rapid change to dependent workers’ economic circumstances. 

The Michaelmas 1670 hearth tax returns for Essex have been transcribed and analysed by the Centre for Hearth Tax Research at the Universityof Roehampton and are to be published this month by the British Record Society and a conference is being held to mark the launch.  See http://www.hearthtax.org.uk/ for further details.

Comparing the lists of those exempt from the hearth tax with recipients of poor relief, recorded in the few detailed sets of accounts produced by overseers of the poor, provides us with greater detail about what poverty meant and how people survived.  Support was provided to those unable to work by parish officers under the Poor Relief Act of 1601.  The Act also required that the unemployed should be put to work on tasks such as spinning and that poor children should be apprenticed to learn a useful trade.

In practice,Essex parishes took different approaches to the problem of their poor depending on the particular local circumstances. Some poor, particularly widows, were paid regular pensions, although often the amount they were paid would have been insufficient without additional resources. In many cases, support was provided in kind, with clothing, fuel and food given directly to the poor. Sometimes the parish employed the poor to carry out odd jobs such as repairing the almshouse or digging graves. The care of orphaned and abandoned children often took up significant resources, with payments made to foster parents and the frequent supply of replacement clothing for their growing bodies.

This extract from the accounts of the overseers of the poor of Barnston in 1671 shows a range of expenses incurred in support of the poor. A major expense derived from the last illnesses of husband and wife, Goodman and Goody Brown, with payments for nursing them and digging their graves (D/P 153/12).

The Barnston overseers reclaimed some of their expenditure by disposing of the household goods of the Brown family after their death, although there were some debts to pay with the proceeds. The inventory was recorded with their accounts (D/P 153/12).

The list of goods suggests the Browns were not destitute, but nevertheless they were unable to survive in their final months without support from the parish and their neighbours.  They were not alone.  It must have been a frightening existence, knowing that illness, disability, fire, flood or theft could result in dependence on parish relief and charity, often grudgingly given.

On that note, I am very grateful for the ungrudging funding awarded to this project by the Arts & Humanities Research Council and the Friends of Historic Essex and the help and support provided by Essex Record Office and The National Archives.

Find out more about the hearth tax records at The Hearth Tax in Essex, our first conference of 2012, on Saturday 14 July. See our events page for more information.

Belt up!

Martin Astell blogs for us about one of the weird and wonderful things he is called upon to do as the Sound and Video Archivist at the Essex Record Office…

Because the Essex Sound and Video Archive preserves a range of sound recordings on all sorts of obsolete media, to some extent we have to be a kind of working museum of old audio equipment.

This is a Fostex R8 – an 8-track open reel tape recorder built in Japan in the late 1980s for the high-end home recording market. Our machine was refusing to play tapes, so I decided to investigate.

I could see that the capstan (i.e. the bit that drives the tape through the machine) was not turning so I guessed that there may have been a problem with the drive belt. I took the front panel off to see if I could identify the problem.

This is the daunting sight that greets you when you remove the front panel. The cotton swab you can see stuck into the machine is showing the capstan drive wheel. I could see at this stage that the belt was slipping off the drive wheel as it turned.

The rubber drive belts unfortunately stretch over time, eventually reaching a point where they no longer grip the wheel sufficiently. The remedy is to replace the belt.

 

Here is a close-up of the capstan drive wheel. Note that there is quite a small ‘window’ through which the belt and drive wheel can be seen. So how do you change the belt? This is when I discovered (thanks to the wonders of the internet and the willingness of analogue recording enthusiasts to help one another) that I should have taken off the back panel of the machine.

 

Here are the scary circuit boards which present themselves when you remove the rear panel and the daunting tangle of wires, motors and electrical doo-hickeys behind them.

Through the judicious use of a screwdriver and some tweezers (which reminded me at times of playing the children’s game ‘Operation’) I was able to remove the drive motor, take off the old belt and replace it with a new one. Having put it all back together (with no bits left over), I am mightily relieved when I turn the machine on and see the capstan spinning as intended.

All very rewarding, but it does make me think, “The other archivists don’t have to go through all this bother to access their records. They just have to open a volume and start reading!”

But, I hear you ask, where do you get a new drive belt for an old, obscure and obsolete Japanese tape recorder? Well, that would be telling…

The Robinson photograph and postcard collection

Archivist Allyson Lewis writes about working with the Robinson photograph and postcard collection

This collection consisting of 112 boxes of photograph and postcard albums and slides was compiled by Geoffrey A. Robinson of Thundersley, Essex.  A keen photographer he also collected postcards, chiefly of places in Essex but also all over the country.

One of the 112 boxes of photographs, postcards and prints in the Robinson collection

 

Just a few of the albums that make up the extensive collection

Mr Robinson had a clear plan when taking his photographs of places in Essex.  He would start with the parish church and take exterior views, then move inside, including any memorials or noteworthy architectural features.  He would then take the churchyard including inscriptions on larger memorials.  Then he would tour the village taking photographs of old buildings, public houses, the school, and any other religious buildings e.g. chapels. He was most active during the 1960s and 1970s and his photographs provide a wonderful window back in time to the quiet lanes of Essex with no cars in sight.

A few of Mr Robinson's photographs of the church at Tilbury-juxta-Clare

One of the more unusual postcards - holes punched in the front of the card allow light to shine through a coloured backing in this night time seaside scene

He put all his photographs and postcards into albums, initially using photograph corners on paper pages but later using the dreaded self-adhesive lift-and-stick plastic pages. These are a particular problem as the adhesive remains sticky and holds the image so firmly to the page that it cannot be removed without damage.  Fortunately, for most of the albums in the Robinson collection the adhesive has dried so much that the photographs and postcards can be removed easily.

Many of the photographs and prints are stuck into damaging self-adhesive albums, and are sometimes very difficult to remove

The images are being been re-stored in inert melinex pockets which will ensure their preservation for years to come.

Postcards and photographs safely re-stored in acid free melinex pockets

Postcards relating to other counties have been sent to the relevant offices (about 40 at the last count!).

One of the mysteries of the collection is the correspondence with a Miss Raverty. The author of the postcards seems to have written to her frequently, and would spread individual messages across several postcards, which were then numbered. We have tried to put the sequences back together, but cannot make much sense of them as yet!

Some of the postcards written to the mysterious Miss Raverty, each containing a fragment of a message

 

A postcard written to Miss Raverty on 18 November 1902 with a fragment of a message - 'Alfie's place is within thirty yards of this gate of the palace, so he has an excellent view of all the processions & whatever.'

The Robinson photograph and postcard collection is catalogued as Accession A7792 – D/DU 1464