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from Wigan and other tales: |
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'Adventuresses' was the media term given to the more wayward lasses of Wigan and St Helens during the period 1914-1921.1 In the context of the First World War and the immediate post-war period, the term 'adventuress' was quite apt as a woman, single or married, brave enough to partake in activities regarded as a danger to the moral fabric of society, could face public disgrace and even imprisonment under tough moral legislation. During the war a code of guardianship was imposed on women as a reaction to the unique and revolutionary circumstances the war brought about. Gender roles were reconstructed to accommodate women working in male spheres on the land and in munitions factories. Many working-class girls were displaced from their home communities and sent to other parts of the country to work in munitions.2 Others were deprived of what the establishment regarded as 'patriarchal control', due to their male peers and relatives fighting abroad. This paper, however, is not simply a summary of 'girls behaving badly', but rather an examination of the issues raised by leisure activities regarded as a threat to society at the time; namely casual relationships, drinking and gambling. Sylvia Pankhurst stated that "From the Press and pulpit stories ran rampant of drunkenness and depravity among the women of the masses."3 These appear harsh terms, but they do reflect the attitudes of the establishment towards women taking part in leisure activities deemed a threat to the order of society. Within this context, the paper also seeks to examine the concept of hegemony and how working-class morality was far more complex than that imposed by the state. Local moral codes for standards of behaviour in Wigan and St Helens differed in certain respects from those of the establishment. Popular morality was enforced by strong female figures in what was largely a matriarchal system, rather than by the more formal patriarchal order of their menfolk and the police. The whole objective of matriarchal authority in the community was to maintain an equilibrium, protect the community in times of hardship and uphold the respectability of the neighbourhood. Rather than using physical violence and incarceration as a method of deterrent, the matriarchal method was based upon gossiping and ostracising an individual; gossiping being the main form of communication for working-class women.4 In an era before the welfare state, when communities were far more insular, people relied heavily upon complex support networks in times of hardship. Therefore this type of deterrent was far more effective before the development of the welfare state. Understanding interdependency is imperative to this type of study. The social structure of working-class communities was of a very complex and fragile nature. However, it was essential to maintain this infrastructure so as to preserve an equilibrium within the community, regardless of state directives.5 "Be it known that good character is easier lost than gained these days" ran the headline of a proclamation by Miss Frances Hogan, published in the St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, 1916.6 Miss Hogan took an unprecendented step by issuing a statement in the local media to quash any rumours concerning herself and a certain gentleman, threatening any 'slanderers' with legal action. Although this case is an extreme example, it demonstrates the significance of an unblemished character during this period, and also the power of gossip as a form of social control within the community. The objective of this paper is to examine working-class women's leisure within the duel contexts of state and community social control during the period 1914-1930. During the First World War, many developments directly affected the social lives of working-class women. Many started to take work in what had previously been regarded as male spheres. All over the country women entered factories and land occupations. In the Lancashire textile districts, where women had traditionally worked outside the home, they took male roles such as the Mule Room in the Cotton Spinning Industry7 This resulted in a more expendable income for many. The establishment feared that now women were free from the moral controls imposed on them by men, they would run out of control. The resulting situation of young women with money and freedom was regarded as highly dangerous. Therefore a culture of district developed with regard to working-class women, or as Sylvia Pankhurst stated "a moral hysteria", with "morality mongerers conceiving monstrous visions of girls and women, deprived of the male influence of chastity, sobriety and industry, plunging into excess and burdening the country with illegitimate children".8 This distrust manifested itself in the form of legislation to control the lives of working class women during and immediately after the First World War. How far did this legislation have implications for the women of Wigan and St Helens? Firstly, we need to look at the different types of control and legislative methods implemented by the government. Gail Braybon and Penny Summerfield define two different types of state social control.9 The first is indirect, or guardianship, where working-class women are given moral education in the form of clubs and classes held in factories, where make-up was discouraged and a quiet obedient nature encouraged. The concept of guardianship extended into the 1920s and was vigorously endorsed by the Press. In 1921 the local media made an example of Catherine Knowles and Elizabeth Woodward both of New Cross Street, St Helens, when they were bound over for six months for using 'bad language'.10 Working mothers were given particular attention so that neither duty, mothering nor the war effort, was neglected. National Baby Weeks were held in 1917 and 1918 to encourage good mothering.11 There is considerable evidence of this 'guardianship' method of social control in the St Helens and Wigan area. The local newspapers published regular articles from the First World War onwards, encouraging mothers to look after their children correctly. Any misdemeanours were reported in detail. The NSPCC published a monthly account of cruelty to children at a national and local level, throughout the 1920s, starting during WW1. The St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, NSPCC and Child Neglect, April 1916: England, Wales, Ireland i. Complaints of neglect: 3,447 ii. Warnings: 2,872 iii. Prosecutions: 131 iv. Convictions: 127 St Helens: 20 cases involving 67 children12 Guardianship had extended to highlighting cases of bad parenting. Eliza Jane Edwards of Rose Cottage, Bold was an example. She was prosecuted for neglecting her five children, who were allegedly dressed in 'Rags and Tatters'. J. Hitchen the school attendance officer also reported that the children had not attended school. Eliza received a sentence of one month, although it was acknowledged she was 'mentally deficient' and the children 'dominated her'.13 A case highlighting the complexity of moral ideology with regard to the government and the local community was that of Hannah Glynn, aged twelve, whose mother sent her out to poach coal, a socially acceptable crime in times of hardship. The case placed emphasis on the sobriety and industry of the girl's father and the inebriety of the mother, taking no account whatsoever of poverty and social conditions.14 The ethic of chastity, sobriety and obedience was fed to working-class women, making public examples of those who defected. Apart from guardianship, more direct methods of government social control were extended to the Wigan and St Helens area. Summerfield and Braybon discuss the extent of governmental legislative social control on a national level during the First World War. Firstly, under the introduction of the Contagious Diseases Acts, originally designed to protect sailors from prostitutes, police patrolled parks, streets, back alleys, pubs and houses to help prevent the seduction of young soldiers. Police women in Grantham, a garrison town, regularly raided the homes of local women.15 Summerfield and Braybon use oral accounts to support their argument. The patrols stated that they were requested to keep girls in their own houses from 8pm to 7am in garrison districts deemed particularly vulnerable. They believed that the defence the realm regulations gave them the power to enter women's homes, whereupon they often found 'large quantities of drink' and men being entertained.16 The patrols brought this to the attention of the military, suggesting women did less harm on the streets. The result was a lifting of the restriction order.17 This type of governmental control was not specific to Garrison towns, and it continued for some time after the war when a plethora of peccadilloes came the attention of local magistrates throughout the 1920s.18 The Grantham cases of women entertaining men in their homes was echoed in St Helens. A classic example can be found in the case of Mona and Mim, otherwise known as Ada Kewish and Mona Kewish, tried at the Police Court, St Helens, in 1921. Both women were single and resided at 25 Cooper Street, St Helens, where they were charged with running a disorderly house, aided and abetted by William Webster, a Turner of 67 New Cross Street, and William Moody, a Ship's Steward of 87 Vincent Street. They all pleaded not guilty. The Kewishes had been under surveillance by the local police for some time, and although the latter's pursuit of incriminating evidence could be likened to a farce, the example is clear in supporting Braybon and Summerfield's accounts of the lengths police were prepared to go, in order to impose control. Apparently, Police Constables Glover and Murrant climbed up a ladder and had the bedroom under surveillance, in order to gain evidence that both the female accused had taken men upstairs for the purposes of prostitution. The police noted misconduct between the male and female prisoners. However, they fail to define exactly what misconduct is. The Police also observed that all parties were worse for drink, Mona and Mim were pulling each other around, dancing in the kitchen. The police witness stated "On one occasion I took a ladder and went up to the bedroom window, and saw misconduct taking place ... heard a creaking of furniture and the sound of kissing and laughing." Ada Kewish was fined £10 as the occupier of the house, the others were fined £2 each. Moody complained bitterly of the cost, while Webster protested that they were only having a sing song.19 Although this is the most obvious case of governmental control over working-class women entertaining at home, other cases corroborate the Grantham examples of patrols in parks and streets. In January 1916, Frederick Hope and Sarah Lyon, a married woman of Cowley Cottage, were charged with being drunk and disorderly, after having been observed for a while by Police Constable Smith. This couple were relatively fortunate and dismissed with a severe caution.20 The following month saw the trial of another St Helens 'couple', Kate Milne of 4 Hard Lane and Thomas Birchall of Thatto Heath Road, charged with indulging in an "indecent offence in a public place", being the passage behind Haydock Street at 9.50pm on a Saturday. The female had in her possession, the root of all evils, two pints of beer and a bottle of whisky.21 They were bound over for twelve months each, with a surety of £10 and £5 respectively. In May of the same year, another sordid story came to the notice of the police courts. While this case did not involve police surveillance, the outcome gave weight to Summerfield and Braybon's argument about social control. Margaret Riley allegedly misconducted herself with a Charles Beddowes whilst her husband was defending the Realm. After a short while, Riley either tired of his attentions or, afraid of the consequences, broke off her relationship with Beddowes. However, Beddowes persisted in molesting her, resulting in an assault in which the police were involved. The police again were quick to confirm at the hearing that Riley had drunk at least one bottle of stout at the time of assault.22 The facts of the case were forwarded to the War Office and her allowance was stopped. Beddowes was fined 40 shillings and bound over to keep the peace. The final example involves a soldier's wife again, however this time, charges were brought about as a result of police surveillance. In 1918 Constable Smith was again investigating iniquity, this time in Foundry Street, St Helens, where Beatrice Atherton of 5 Napier Street and George Irwin of 10 College Street, were behaving in an indecent manner. The female said she had done nothing wrong and the male stated he had been led on by the woman. The woman's husband was in France and she had four children. The male had been discharged from the army. The bench fined the woman 10 shillings and the man 20 shillings.23 This example was presented to the group of oral volunteers for analysis. The majority were too young to remember the period themselves, but some could recollect similar instances discussed by their parents or neighbours, but no specific examples of prosecutions. The residents of Lyme House Residential Home, who agreed to be volunteers for this oral study, acknowledge that this went on, but are reluctant to provide examples of cases where the police were involved. I gave them the same example. Ruth retorted that "Plenty of that went on". She elaborated by giving her aunt as an example. "My aunti did, aye she did that, me grandma turned her out". He friend Gladys, who is slightly younger, could not recollect a similar experience.24 All the volunteers exclaimed at the severity of the fine, leading to the question of whether or not they believed it had achieved its objective. The sample were unsure of this; however, Jenny Bent remarks that social intercourse was "More easy going after the Second World War" was significant.25 The abundance of propaganda in the local papers during the First World War and the 1920s, encouraging good housekeeping and motherhood, declined by the 1930s. A similar pattern can be found in the number of court cases against women drinkers. This would also explain why the younger volunteers fail to recollect any specific examples. The volunteers are aware that this took place, but only from hearsay. The volunteers are more familiar with the second type of social control, a matriarchal hegemony, or community control, imposed not necessarily by the state, but rather by peer groups, usually women. This context is far more complex, involving personalities and inter-community values. However, despite the obvious complications with this definition, we can conclude that working-class women imposed their own morality on their peers. In urban areas, the role of the working-class mother as the arbiter of family life was a dominant influence within the community with regard to moral standards and acceptable codes of behaviour.26 It is within this context that Ruth's comments regarding her aunt are particularly significant. This method of social control was based upon power and knowledge. The more knowledge the matriarchs had about individuals, the more power they possessed to assert their moral ideology.27 Gossiping was a way of forming a network of control over a village or community.28 Jenny Bent stated that the women knew everything about everyone. She mentioned one particular matriarch from Billinge, near Wigan, Ethel Hayes. Tom remembers that she would stop strangers walking up the village to find out what she could.29 The majority of matriarchs would form support networks in the community to look after each other in hard times and if anyone broke the moral code, the respective matriarchs would deal with the matter as they saw fit. Jenny Bent summarises her own experience as a child, where this type of community network manifested itself in social control. J.B.: My dad was out of work with illness, and there were three children, then when we were having a fourth, they (the old women) would say, what are you having four children for, you've got no job.30 Tom and Jenny both are adamant that it was women, particularly the older women, who imposed controls upon their peers. The two contexts of social control have marked differences and similarities. Firstly, there is the point of guardianship, or the setting of standards for others to follow, although these are not necessarily those of the state and may vary from community to community.31 For example, the case of Hannah Glynn sent to poach coal by her mother, would not have broken the moral code of the community. However, in certain instances they shared, and therefore consented to, the values of the ruling hegemony, the government, both in the community and their own homes.32 Jenny from Lowton stated that if your mother said nine o'clock and you stayed out late, you "Got it over your bottom".33 Gladys from Golborne, remembers that "You all got belted if you stayed out after nine o'clock".34 Tom Melling recalls his friend, Billy Abbot, riding home on a flat (cycle) tyre to be in by ten o'clock, at twenty one years of age.35 The purpose of these rules was to maintain a standard of respectability within the community, and we must not discount a work ethic, bred out of generations of hardship, where late nights and raucous immoral behaviour would limit a person's capacity for earning a wage. The three social sins consisted of casual relationships, drink and gambling; the former two being closely connected. The frequency of these incidents among women appears to vary, depending upon the community. Considering the power of governmental and matriarchal control during this period it is quite surprising just how frequently women indulged in socially unacceptable activities. The contemporary commentator and secretary of the Labour campaign, Ernest Selley, suggested that the feelings of emancipation brought on by the war led to women taking advantage of new opportunities to drink.36 Overt consumption of alcohol by women was a relatively frequent occurrence during and shortly after the First World War. Carl Chinn notes that the artisan classes were often accompanied by their wives to the public house37 and S.G. Jones corroborates this stating that public houses were social centres, where a man could "take ease with his wife".38 This situation was not however, representative of working-class culture in this particular area. It was deemed socially unacceptable by both the community and the state for working-class women to go into public houses, those that did before the Second World War were "Of a sort," to quote the ladies of Parkside Rest Home.39 For the greater part, women drank great jugs of stout sat by the firesides of their own homes, if they drank at all, and they certainly never accompanied their husbands to the public house or club before the Second World War. Women who did venture into the public house, or expressed a taste for liquor, were put into two types by the groups of volunteers. The first type was the 'character', a figure of community fun and jest, the second was the social outcast, who usually accompanied her drinking by other disreputable activities, such as sex or family neglect. The latter was the most socially unacceptable. It is important to look at reactions to these two types of drinker, as this highlights differences in community ideas of what was tolerable behaviour. Tom Melling and Bill Hayes refer to the issue of women drinking, providing many examples of characters. These characters did not always drink in the pub, often they would use the 'cubby hole' or off sales. Billy Hayes explains that "they used to go in this little cubby hole and there would be three or four of them together ... A little bob hole, they would look into the bar". Daisy from Platt Bridge recalls "Oh, I've seen them with their jug in one arm and the baby in the other at Abram, coming out with stout. They didn't drink in pubs, they took it home in a jug. It was cheaper in a jug".40 Tom Melling remembers that they used to make their own Dandelion Wine, and Tom Bent remarks upon the strength of it. Tom Melling remembers one particular lady who drank at home, a character or figure of fun. T.M.: They used to make their own Dandelion Wine, Potato Wine, some of them couldn't make enough. It used to make them a bit drunk. I remember somebody, her name was Mrs Bromilow, they used to call her Nell Bronco, an' 'er was one of the worst I knew, she was never really sober. Irish woman 'er had a fair family (large) they nearly all had red heads and she liked 'er ale and quite a lot of it too I'll tell yer!41 Tom Melling also remembers several characters who actually drank in the pub rather than at home, again they were regarded as figures of fun and often given rude 'nicknames'. Peg Twisty, Peg Broad, Sally Danny, Liz Pop, Liz Nessie, Nancy Tuppy, Liz Wazock, Nan Tussock.42 Betty Ball was one of the most notorious women pub drinkers in Billinge during the 1920s. T.M.: And then there was Betty Ball, Oh well her used to go on't toilet and leave the door wide open, and when the men were going across to their toilet, they could see her there, sat on't toilet. Her didn't think to close the door when she went in.43 I asked Tom Melling why these women drank. T.M.: Well, I don't know whether or not it was inherited or whether they got the taste of it when they were young or what. Oh it was a job! Drunken women look worse than drunken men, especially in them days, you don't see it today the same, like I say, a lot of them took it home.44 This summarised contemporary attitude towards drinking, but it is important to remember that the 'characters' who drank in public houses or at home were tolerated as figures of fun because they did not break the bounds of social control on too many levels. Although the volunteers would not own to behaving like that themselves or having kin who did, they were prepared to look upon this with humour. The second type of drinker provoked a different reaction. On Billinger, Codger, was blessed with an alcoholic wife who would drink herself into a stupor by the fireside. She was not ostracised for her inebriety, but for the fact she was incapable of doing her duty as a wife and mother.45 Gertrude Jones of 35 Allenson Street in Parr, St Helens was found guilty of neglecting her children in 1916, leaving them alone all night while she kept bad company and indulged in drinking.46 Communities only tolerated a drunken woman as long as she did her duty as wife and mother. I asked the ladies at Parkside Rest Home in St Helens, why did women drink, particularly in the house. Their answer explains community toleration. "No one could see them," said Cissy, "it was something to do." Dorothy supported her, "some couldn't go out if they had children, couldn't leave them you see".47 The government was less tolerant of women drinking than the community, due to the sexual implications. However, the attitude of the state was not as complex either. The cases used in the definition of social control were usually related to drink in some way; the women were either drunk or in possession of ale, and this is representative of the hard line attitude towards women drinkers. The Criminal Returns for the County Borough of Wigan 1911-1939 reveals the number of women prosecuted for "lewd and indecent behaviour" in public houses. There is no definition of "lewd and indecent behaviour". Any woman out drinking without an escort could be arrested as a common prostitute. "Lewd and indecent behaviour" is not necessarily evidence that the women were soliciting. Cases show this behaviour often consisted of dancing, singing or sitting on a man's knee. It is fair to conclude that this was a form of social control to keep women out of public houses. This hypothesis is further supported by changes in the number of proceedings during the period 1911-1939. In the years 1910-1919, 434 women were proceeded against; in the years 1920-1929, 245 faced charges; in the years 1930-1939 the figure had dropped to just 94. What was the significance of this change? Firstly, it could indicate a success in social control measures and some of the volunteers indicate that this could have been the case. I asked George Andrews did he remember anything about women getting drunk in St Helens. He replied that it was "mostly fellas".49 I asked Betty from Parkside Rest Home, St Helens, did women go to pubs and she replied "no, it wasn't done".50 Significantly, there was a sharp decline in the number of cases reported in the local paper. However, there is also evidence of a mellowing of attitude in the 1930s. The younger element of the sample who had their youth at the beginning of the Second World War, corroborate this. Mary Stevens from Platt Bridge, Wigan recalls going to the public house during the late 1930s and early 1940s.51 Jenny Bent remembers, "They were more easy going in the Second World War".52 Although it was still considered a social anathema for women to frequent a public house, the reduction in prosecutions could well indicate a change in attitude from the law. The first ten years of the statistics, coincides with what Sylvia Pankhurst describes as 'moral hysteria' and the number of proceedings could be more representative of social attitudes towards females than of the number of lewd and indecent women in Wigan. Women and drink is therefore a complex situation that raises several questions concerning community and government standards, matriarchal ideology being the more difficult to define. The community appears to judge women and drink on two levels. The first being a woman who drinks but does not threaten the structure of the community in any way. The second, is the woman who neglects her duties at home. The state appears to regard drink as synonymous with sex, and this is reflected in the many sex cases during the early 1920s, where women's association with drink was emphasised. However, drink, like sex, was the occupation of only a certain type of woman and although it was tolerated in certain communities, it was never approved of. Those suspected of illicit behaviour could be investigated or lose their separation allowance as in the case of Margaret Riley. However, despite legislation and the moral climate women did take advantage of emancipation to enjoy sexual liaisons. This point is illustrated by the cases of Margaret Riley, Kate Milne, Beatrice Atherton. The community was no less vociferous than the state in condemnation of illicit sexual activity, although there are complexities. Local working-class moral values are complex as the following cases illustrate. Mary Davis faced the ultimate social stigma, she gave birth to a child while her husband was away in France, fighting. The father was a collier by the name of John Hodson.53 This was by no means an uncommon occurrence and one way a family or community could avoid the stigma was to ignore it. The husband may return and accept the child as his, so none but the close community would be aware of the truth. Mary Davis' husband however had no intention of doing so and filed for divorce. As a result Mary had to go to court in order to get maintenance off Hodson. In court Mary Davis admitted her affair openly and castigated her husband for deserting her, as though this is unacceptable. However, as Summerfield and Braybon have pointed out, we do not know enough about the intricacies of relationships during the wars to define whether or not sexual liaisons of this nature were ignored by couples, or that Mrs Davis' husband was unique in deserting her; assuming this was the reason.54 The attitudes of couples towards each other in this case may have been considerably more conciliatory in nature than those of the government, pulpit and press. Tom Melling recalls another case which highlights community intricacies. These cases involve people who would normally have commanded deference and respect. T.M.: There was three or four sergeants (police) in Billinge that weren't particularly straight, you used to hear of them carrying on, Aye, sergeants, that I particularly know of ... it was the same as at Brown Heath (colliery), he used to go to St Helens, they knew he was carrying on and one or two more besides ... I knew about a young woman who was carrying on with a man, and when she got in trouble with him, he tried to drop her off and she drowned herself, he was well thought of too (he was the village priest). I was about fifteen, oh aye, I heard tell of her waiting on night at twelve o'clock to tell him how she was, but it didn't make any difference to him because he'd started carrying on with someone else and she drowned herself. She hadn't been married, she was a young woman.55 People in positions of authority were expected to behave with decorum and community judgement fell upon those who exploited their position. The leisure activities we have looked at so far have brought women out in judgement upon each other. Gambling however, had the opposite effect, as it forged community links and solidarity.56 Oral evidence suggests that the women in the St Helens, Leigh and Wigan areas regularly gambled on the horses during the inter-war period, and although it could bring women onto the wrong side of the law, gambling was the most acceptable of the three activities within community circles. Alice from Platt Bridge is the daughter of a Bookie (Bookkeeper) and she can recall women betting. Mary, also from Platt Bridge remembers her mother putting "a bit on each way".57 Jinny from Lowton can also remember her mother backing horses, which is quite significant, as the family was not strictly working-class. They were haulage contractors with barges on the canal.58 Tom Melling has a clear recollection of women betting. T.M.: There was one, Nellie Berry and she used to live near us. When we were going to school, she used to shout, "Have you a minute, come here, I want yer. Will you call with these to Dick Barnes," and she had a paper full of bets, and in those days you could put three pence on a horse and if it come second or third you'd get a bit of money for it running second and third, I don't know how it was properly, but she had a great list of horses she'd backed. Women liked betting as much as men in them days.59 Women's betting was different from that of the men, who would play cards in the woods or a back alley, with a lookout for the police. Men would often act as a runner, someone who took money for bets, Tom Melling's father was a 'runner' who once had to bribe the police to let him go.60 George Andrews remembers another runner being sent down for three weeks. Women tended to bet indoors, or send someone out with their slips.61 Personally, I have not come across any cases of women runners, however they did often organise illegal betting offices in a spare room of the house. Alice from Platt Bridge can remember how this was done. Alice: They would set up a betting shop in a back room. Now if they were going into a shed people would notice, but if they were going into a back room, people would think they were going into the house.62 Women sometimes organised illegal betting shops in each others houses. The motives for this are twofold. Firstly, it was an instance of solidarity where a woman could indulge in excitement without fear of reproach; secondly, if well organised, it could provide extra income for a housewife with room to spare. Unfortunately there is little documented evidence to support this, however the St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser reported such a case in the 1930s, when Mary Twiss of Devon Street was summoned to the police court for using a shed in the back yard for the purposes of betting. William Twiss of the same address for permitting the offence, and Beatrice Hill of Sidney Street, for assisting in conducting the house. In addition to the people mentioned, there was also in the shed: Annie Cunningham of Grafton Street, Annie Traverse of Devon Street, May Thompson of Devon Street. The police witness saw Hill trying to conceal a book in which were found nine betting slips, referring to twenty three bets on that days racing. Cunningham had two slips which she was trying to hide in her clothing and Traverse had one slip. William Twiss and Mary Twiss were fined fifteen pounds each, while Hill was charged forty shillings. They were awarded three pounds, three shillings and six pence costs. The three women in the shed were each bound over for twelve months for frequenting a betting house.63 Gambling does not appear to provoke the same emotional responses as drinking or sexual behaviour. This is probably due to the fact that gambling was not really seen in the context of a social threat. Women who gambled usually pursued their activity behind closed doors with their own sex. This case, reported in 1933, is quite revealing in tone. Firstly, although all the women involved are named, there is no reference to attire or marital status as customary in moral cases. Secondly, the heavy fines imposed upon the organisers reflect an economic concern rather than a moral one. The three women gamblers received an order, binding them over for twelve months, rather than the heavy fine usual for drinking and sexual offences. The First World War was a period of revolution, both politically and ideologically throughout Europe, where the masses became the main protagonists in moves that shook societies hierarchical structures. The local media regularly relayed messages of an anti Bolshevik nature64 and the establishment watched carefully for any revolutionary changes. Although women did achieve a degree of social emancipation as a result of the war, resulting in enfranchisement and the right to stand as an MP,65 both the government and local communities were well aware that the problem of emancipated women was not necessarily a moral one, but rather one of appeasing the demobbed masses returning home to unemployment and a total breakdown in the perceived patriarchal structure of family and community life. During the period November 1918 to April 1919, 600,000 women were made redundant by demobilization.66 The moral and social pressures, particularly regarding drink and sex, which were intrinsically linked, continued well into the 1920s, until we see a marked decline in prosecutions and evidence of 'guardianship' in the 1930s. With regard to control at community level, there appears to be a period of transition from the moral hysteria of the First World War to the relative permissiveness of the Second World War. According to the volunteers, women were starting to socialise more freely around the 1930s. Mary Stevens remembers going to Leigh with her friends, drinking and Jenny Bent was allowed out socialising, but only to respectable places, that did not serve alcohol. After the 1920s, there were acceptable ways by which the opposite sex could meet. These included walking out in groups, dancing and visiting the cinema. Walking out was the traditionally acceptable activity for young women in the St Helens and Wigan area. Evidence relating to the shifting grey area between acceptable and unacceptable behaviour is indicative of changes in attitude during the inter-war period. Gambling however, although considered a vice, remained distinct from the other areas. Firstly, there was little or no consent to the dominant ideology of the government. Gambling was an integral part of working-class community subculture, with an economic as well as social value. And secondly, as far as women were concerned, gambling was limited in the amount of damage it could inflict on the perceived patriarchal structures of family life. It drew men and women together in an illicit activity with minimal sexual connotations. Gambling therefore, rather than acting as a tool of possible disruption, worked to develop complex community networks and therefore acted as a vehicle of solidarity.
Notes The author wishes to thank Professor J.K. Walton of the University of Central Lancashire for help and support. 1. The St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, 9 May 1916. 2. A. Woollacott, On Her their Lives Depend (California, 1994), pp.46-7. 3. P. Summerfield and G. Braybon, Out of the Cage: Women's Experience in Two World Wars (Pandora, 1987), pp.107, 112. 4. M. Tebbut, Womens Talk: A Social History of Gossip in Working Class Neighbourhoods 1880-1960 (Scolar, 1995), p.11. See also E. Ross, 'Survival Networks: Women's Neighbourhood Sharing in London before WW1', History Workshop, 15 (1983), 4-28. 5. The content of this paper is influenced by the industry of the area, as it helped to shape the leisure activities of many working-class people. The majority of examples referred to and the volunteers in my oral evidence were employed in the main industries. Coal and mining communities have proved of great significance during research for this paper. St Helens, Leigh and Wigan lie east of Liverpool. St Helens is famous internationally for the production of glass, whilst Wigan and Leigh were firmly based on coal and textiles. However, recently they have diversified into the fields of processed food and engineering. There has been a strong tradition of arable farming in this area, although it has declined somewhat latterly with the land taken over for housing. English Regions: The North West (Her Majesty's Stationery Office). 6. The St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, 9 May 1916. See also Tebbut, op.cit., p.77. 7. M.G. Bondfield, 'The Future of Women in Industry', The Labour Year Book (1916), 252-279. See also, S. Rowbotham, Hidden From History (Pluto, 1973), p.111. 8. Summerfield and Braybon, op.cit., p.12. 9. Ibid. 10. The St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, 25 September 1921. 11. E. Roberts, A Woman's Place: An Oral History of Working Class Women 1890-1939 (Blackwell, 1984), pp.164-168, looks at levels of infant mortality in relation to working mothers. 12. The St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, 25 September 1921. 13. Ibid., 6 June 1916. 14. Ibid. See also S. Humphries, 'Steal to Survive: the Social Crime of Working Class Children 1890-1940', Oral History, 9, 1 (1982), 24-33. 15. Summerfield and Braybon, op.cit., p.109. See also Rowbotham, op.cit., p.52. 16. Ibid. 17. Ibid. 18. Ibid. 19. The St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, 11 January 1921. 20. Ibid., 5 January 1916. 21. Ibid., 11 February 1916. 22. Ibid. 23. Ibid., 15 March 1918. 24. Oral evidence from Lyme House Residential Home, Lowton, Lancs. The main method used for this study has been oral evidence. Oral history has come under a lot of scrutiny of late, despite being the original method of recording history, used by those people considered to be the first historians, Herodotus and Thucydides. Documentary evidence only grew in importance during the revival of manuscript reading during the Renaissance. However, there are problems with this type of study. "How reliable is the evidence of oral history?" asks P. Thompson, in Voice of the Past (Oxford, 1978), p.101. Thompson states that if oral sources do provide reliable information, to treat them as documentary evidence means a loss in their value. The true significance of oral evidence is not in that it replaces documentary sources, but rather that it complements them. Oral evidence can reveal aspects of local history that are obscured by documentary sources and draws attention to facts overlooked by a more generalised history that does not take into account the intricacies and complex networks of working-class life on a local level. However, we do need to test the reliability of oral evidence as with any other sources. Thompson suggests we evaluate oral evidence with the same criteria that we judge any other source. Apart from oral evidence, the other primary material used is contemporary record, particular newspaper articles as they have a specific value in representing social and economic trends. Newspaper articles and letters to newspapers are revealing with regard to popular opinion and the rigour with which social control was imposed. They give detailed accounts of court cases and specific activities that can support or refute oral evidence. See J. Tosh, The Pursuit of History (Longman, 1991), introduction. The recruitment of volunteers for the oral history project was based upon two main criteria. Firstly, they came from the geographical area in question and secondly, they were over 65 years of age. The volunteers came from private or council run homes and contact developed from family and friends. The objective of this was to get as wide a range as possible. The actual interviews did not follow a set of leading questions, as from experience I have found this method restrictive. The volunteers were introduced to topics relating to the study and asked to comment on them. For this several stimuli were used such as newspaper articles, photographs and tapes made by other groups or individuals on the same topic. The latter in particular had great benefits because listening to other accounts awakened many memories leading to lively and informative discussions. Confusion and memory loss within the group was not an issue, as it tends to affect recent rather than distant memory. See also A. Portelli, 'The Peculiarities of Oral History', History Workshop, 96-97, 12, 8. For further notes on Alzheimers see John Adams, 'Anamnesis in Dementia: Restoring a Personal History', Oral History, 62-63, Autumn 1989. Finally, specific details concerning the lives of the volunteers from Lyme House, Parkside and Sherwood House are omitted to protect their privacy. However, the author can confirm that all volunteers are over 70 years of age and were born in the Wigan and St Helens districts. With the exception of two, the volunteers can best be described as working-class and occupied the main industries of the area. 25. Oral evidence from Jenny Bent, retired factory worker, Billinge. 26. C. Chinn, They Worked all their Lives: Women of the Urban Poor in England 1880-1939 (Manchester, 1988), p.115. 27. M. Tebbut, op.cit., pp.49-57. 28. Ibid. 29. Oral evidence from Tom Bent, retired collier, Billinge. 30. Oral evidence, J. Bent. 31. Chinn, op.cit., p.115. 32. S. Humphries, op.cit., 1982. 33. Oral evidence, Lyme House. 34. Ibid. 35. Oral evidence, Tom Melling, retired farm labourer, Billinge. 36. S.G. Jones, Workers at Play (Routledge, 1986), p.102. 37. Chinn, op.cit., p.98. 38. Jones, op.cit., p.102. 39. Oral evidence, Parkside Rest Home, St Helens. 40. Oral evidence, Sherwood House Residential Home for the Elderly, Platt Bridge. 41. Oral evidence, Tom Melling. 42. Ibid. 43. Ibid. 44. Ibid. 45. R. Lewis, The Billingers (Riversdown, 1971), p.58. 46. The St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, 1 August 1916. 47. Oral evidence, Parkside Rest Home. 48. ???? 49. Oral evidence, George Andrews, retired collier, Parr and Billinge. 50. Oral evidence, Parkside Rest Home. 51. Oral evidence, Sherwood House. 52. Oral evidence, Jenny Bent. 53. The St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, 5 April 1918. 54. Summerfield and Braybon, op.cit., p.112. 55. Oral evidence, Tom Melling. 56. Jones, op.cit., p.92. 57. Oral evidence, Sherwood House. 58. Oral evidence, Lyme House. 59. Oral evidence, Tom Melling. 60. Ibid. 61. Oral evidence, George Andrews. 62. Oral evidence, Sherwood House. 63. The St Helens Newspaper and Advertiser, 1933. 64. G. Trease, Tales Out of School (The Education Bookshop, 1948), p.84, makes some interesting comments regarding the media's preoccupation with 'Bolshevism' during the early post-war period. 65. Rowbotham, op.cit., p.120. 66. S. Boston, Women in the Trade Union Movement 1918-1923 (Davis Poynter, 1980), p.137. |
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