Across the last year, attendees to Poets in the Archives have delved into Southwark’s Archives collections to inspire new poetry. We have looked at Southwark Poets Una Mason and Pat Brown, delved into Southwark’s Roman past, borrowed pamphlets from the Feminist Library in Peckham and taken inspiration for LGBT history month from the Southwark Sappho Newsletter. Here is a selection of the work from the group. We hope you enjoy.
What does the phrase ‘towards the stars’ mean to you?
Una Marson
Una Marson was a Jamaican writer and broadcaster and the first Black woman to work at the BBC. Her first home in the UK was in Peckham. In 1945 she published a poetry collection called Towards the Stars
Towards the stars by Eugenia Sesti
Around the time that we were about to go on our first holiday in two years there was a lot of coverage for NASA’s Perseverance rover. Around this time, we also found out we had been in contact with someone with COVID and might have to postpone our trip. It dawned on me that sometimes things that seem impossible are feasible and sometimes a much simpler thing in comparison can bump into many obstacles. Life is not always straightforward, but we can keep on looking towards the stars.
The countdown Has begun From ten to one Perseverance is in Mars Its home beyond the stars While a sneeze is all there is Between me and Heathrow Terminal 5
Rotherhithe
Canada Water by Eugenia Sesti
I’m a duck Full on bread Slightly stale Slightly hard I still want to taste each crumb I’ll take all that I can get The leftovers from your life Fill me up And I don’t need to search no more I spend my time just hanging out Waiting for the breakfast you forgot to eat on Tuesday
Spring in Russia Dock Woods by Nirma de Silva
Walkers stride jauntily rejuvenated like patches of daisies on grass, scattered dandelions, hawthorn in white bloom.
Pram pushers in abundance. A toddler is allowed out by a pond, unsteady legs, stretched arms towards mallards. They squawk, move into water.
Parents point at prayerful cormorants drying wings on logs, children observe a photographer framing a woodpecker as a blackbird sings sweetly.
Small patterned wings flutter in a hurry for nectar, whites drink their fill from green alkanet, some rest on leaves.
Air is crisp, fresh shoots, energy flows – willow in yellow catkins, horse chestnut in flowering spikes. Pulling on leads, dogs excited by new scents
bark at squirrels that scamper undaunted. Umbellifers spread white tablecloths for picnickers, cherry adds cheer in pink.
Roman Southwark
Roman artefacts have been found all over Southwark, helping us to build a picture of this fascinating period, and provided plenty of inspiration for this session.
Roman Southwark by Nirma de Silva
It’s in the fragments of a terracotta tile, red corridors. In broken plaster remnants of wall paintings of scenery, gods they worshipped, the painted walls of a wealthy house.
In unearthed pieces of mosaic, geometric motifs in red and black stylised flowers, strands, tessellated panels, the floor of a large room. It’s all there.
Imagine a central courtyard surrounding corridors multiple rooms
It’s there strewn fragments of clay pots, vessels, brooches, narthecia of perfumes, salves anointed in public baths built with hypocaust, the fragrance, the indulgence their way of living.
Each piece a part of an image that expands stretches to a glimpse of an era to form a mosaic of Roman Southwark.
Painted wall plaster from Winchester Palace excavations from Below Southwark: the archaeological story by Carrie Cowan
Cupid in Southwark by Nirma de Silva
I am alone but never lonely in my mansion of orange and beige walls where columns touch blue skies. I watch all from my vantage point Londinium extends on the north bank Southwark becomes a bustling suburb of terracotta pavements, public baths, roads stretch far to the south.
My winged feet carry me past traders of salves, cloth, pungent salted fish potters with samian bowls, drinking vessels for wine public baths where perfumes drift
When people gather on feast days in honour of gods, I celebrate in dance on mosaic floors. Years later, I watch as my beloved pavilion collapses in 300 A.D.
It lays beneath the gardens of Winchester Palace Undisturbed, barren. I wait 1600 years to see it again Recognisable but faded, broken.
No longer my glorious mansion, it will not draw me back. Southwark too, I barely recognise. You will not see me again.
The Pat Brown archive
Peckham resident Pat Brown photographed and wrote about her everyday life and the world around her. These poems were inspired by her personal archive collection.
The Nightwatchman
Tall and slim With pictures of petals In mourning. Shiny and proud You stand erect and free Just content to be you. But now I flick the switch Your light floods the room. I can read No more groping For the words. And when I am done You take care of me while I sleep A sentinel You stand guard Till another light filters Through the window blinds. When eventide returns I reach again for book and bed. Later you will comfort me Watch over me Before I start anew.
Herewith, elsewhere by Rowenna Mortimer
Herewith, inside They point out what I wish kept hidden Give voice to what knows only silence Parade the flaw in what I believe precious Read the holy words I forgot to cover Speak of the sacred I failed to lock away Lean forth in their space as if to tumble through Into mine. Elsewhere, outside All is secret.
‘I was only copying the others’ by Rowenna Mortimer
I need to let you know that what you gave me is what you said it was, is what you hoped This is the medium
show off to you that what I saw is what I saw, to prove I spoke the truth I’ll capture that This is the medium
turn the green shoulder, make it face me, how close I trash my reputation against the sun This is the medium
force the confrontation, own the violation, I’ll trap a thing in life then show the lie So this, the medium.
Southwark Sappho newsletter
Southwark Sappho was produced by the Southwark Women’s Centre on Peckham High Street from 1993 to 1994. The newsletter promoted local services and events taking place across London. We looked at archive copies at our session during LGBT History month 2022
Cut-up poetry by members of the Outside Project and Poets in the Archives
My grandparents moved from Italy to Argentina after WWII, and my dad was born in Argentina. When he was in school, the teachers told my grandparents not to speak Italian because it was confusing him, so they never spoke Italian at home, and they never returned to Italy. I think they were worried that things would still look like they did when they had left. They both wanted to remember and wanted to forget.
No shoes Or washing machines A ship Across the ocean The hope And longing New beginnings With footwear And appliances A language to be learned And one to be forgotten Do we choose what we want to remember?
Southwark Archives are excited to show you some new digital collections from Latin American Women’s Rights Service. LAWRS are human rights, feminist organisation run by and for Latin American Migrant Women living in the UK. They were founded in 1983 and turn 40 next year. With a centre in Walworth, they carry out activities in and around the local area.
We look forward to welcoming some women from the group to the archives search room in autumn 2022, when they will deposit some material archives.
From LAWRS website:
“We actively advocate for women’s rights, migrant’s rights and the rights of ethnic minorities at local, national and EU levels. We aim to achieve social change through key projects that bring together members of the community of different age groups for transformative and empowering work.”
The images below are part of the new collection, dating from c.2016 – 2018. We look forward to adding more to it soon.
Cover of Sin Fronteras zine c.2016 – 2018Cover of Warmi zine c.2016 – 2018Cover of Sin Fronteras zine c.2016 – 2018Interior page of zineInterior page of zineInterior page of zineInterior page of zinePoster from outreach events in the local community Poster from outreach events in the local communityPoster from outreach events in the local communityPostcard of woman posing with the iconic Elephant and Castle Elephant: Intertwined by the vibrant colours and Latin rhythms of Elephant and Castle. I dance. I exist.Poster: We are fearless youthPoster: The struggle continues for you Woman. Don’t give up because it is the best time, because you are not alone, because we are with you.Poster: No matter what your conditions are, we are here for you if you need usOn Saturday 20 April 2017, LAWRS invited friends and family to take part in a public intervention in Burgess Park. Weaving pieces of fabric played with ideas rooted in South American textile based cultural expressions. The women walked across the park whilst maintaining the weave structure.
Back in 2021, Poets in the Archives met for a session to engage with material fromAlo-Wa, a black women’s Oral History group in Southwark which formed in January 1990 and ran until 1991. Members of the group were seven women in total, all from African and Caribbean descent, and all living or working in Southwark.
During the poetry session, we looked through Alo-Wa material and then participants came up with questions to ask one another to inspire what would eventually be the writing of new poetry. These were:
What does the phrase ‘back home’ mean to me?
What does my family history look like?
What are my childhood memories / how do I re-connect to a country I saw years ago?
Why did my father / mother never teach me…
What do I wish I knew more about my family?
Below are the poems the group produced in response.
Stories by Nirma de Silva
Embraced in the Alo-Wa spirit they were brought together. A sense of purpose, togetherness
warmed by community air. Reminiscing about sun filled days and swaying palms the sweet smell of the earth the taste of tamarind, fried plantain, sweet potato vibrant patterned kaftan fabric and shimmering blue waters they connected to others, to the community in a celebration of culture by sharing food, experiences, their own stories.
It began as storytelling voices from the past of grandparents, an aunt, family ‘back home’ why they came to Southwark challenges they faced stories of courage and resilience that amaze, inspire and stay with you. Writing their own histories like threads woven into a rich tapestry of a community’s heritage in a new home.
Back D’Home (dom) by Joanna Cielecka
Finding my Forked tongue
One goes to the country Misty evenings amongst the fields Of corn, kukurydza, coucou rice The sun is friendly Even though I ignore it, typing Ferociously these words.
The other slithers through Southwark From jaunty Elephant’s Cheap Street Crosses at George’s Circus And swings back to watery Bankside To sit on the slimy steps And laugh with the rabbles.
“Coming home”
How loudly was it sang By guys climbing onto buses In July twenty eighteen, While twelve of us women Sat quietly with herbs In Prostitutes’ Graveyard?
Coming home.
How muted now it feels Being alone with a Weegee In a dreicht Polish village. Estranged by Brexitannia Speaking in the dialect of Dogs, children and angels: The prayer of hope.
Hope for home Where we all belong.
Gentle like a sway of breath Like mother’s heart Like moth’s wings.
Gentle yet powerful Like St Paul’s bell
Let Hope ring
Embrace us
Let the forked tongues Dissolve tonight
While I thank you, dziekuje For joining me here As if nothing else existed
I feel our union.
Not on paper But above it.
Joanna Cielecka
Homecoming
Not a blur, Nor a flicker. No memory of this place. Yet now it enthralls me Now it entices me
The paanwallah’s potion Invites me to submit To breathe its scent To taste its touch To smell its air.
The sun clogs my skin The dust clouds my lungs. I’ve entered its body I live its life Surrender my mind. Soon it will have my soul.
No Shoes by Eugenia Sestini
No shoes Or washing machines A ship Across the ocean The hope And longing New beginnings With footwear And appliances A language to be learned And one to be forgotten Do we choose what we want to remember?
My grandparents moved from Italy to Argentina after WWII, and my dad was born in Argentina. When he was in school, the teachers told my grandparents not to speak Italian because it was confusing him, so they never spoke Italian at home, and they never returned to Italy. I think they were worried that things would still look like they did when they had left. They both wanted to remember and wanted to forget.
Eugenia Sestini
Prediction by Colleen Cameron
Poverty, plucked from peaty ash, Petals my rosey-cheekbones, Inherited from women scrubbing A cleanliness privilege grants me now. They, unknown, behind my looks Look out – History, marked by rows of wind-battered tombstones Etch a line of youth dead before their Time, Birthing generations of men more fruitful than they Who look out – Hills, rolling like our shape, shadowed by Scottish Pine, high, like our legs made for walking Miles, and the stamina of a population Striving to survive – But that – Still, they look out – Sighs of déjà-vu echo now, green Guttural – the harshness Palpable – the silence Comfort keeps History an unanswerable prediction Yet, they look out – They see the world now through my eyes And the world holds them still – Through me.
A Long Story by Barbara Robson
Oh do not ask me about my family history unless you are ready for a tale of woe told from the very pit of existence. Would it were different, but my heart tells me that now, coming up ninety-two, honesty matters most to me. Gone is the time I needed to impress or please others. What have I left to lose? You see, I come from a long line of poor suckers from foreign parts. To survive their daily grind, they resorted to secret fantasies to keep hope alive. But like a sand castle, this could not withstand the in-coming tide. This unfortunate habit was passed on to me willy-nilly. Although this may seem extremely
silly to you, it has all but cost me my life. For assuming fantasy is safe when kept secret, combined with a smile plus stiff upper lip, is the stuff of a horror story. So it has proved. For suddenly I seem to have a choice: to let go the illusion that my forbears bequeathed. Many were the stories both my parents told. Not least being the one about my birth. How the midwives prophesized over me ‘This one will become the lady of the family.’ They also named me ‘Rosebud’ due to my my dainty, pursed mouth. But try as I might, all this has proved rubbish down to this very day. Now I can only attempt to count my blessings, few though they seem. But maybe I am mistaken. The gist of my story is that, though I come from a long line of dupes, undoubtedly well intended but truly f—ed, I am, in fact, no more or less so than others.
Mi yard in peace by Andrew Akpenyi
I was having a stroll in Southwark Park away from my yard
To take time to think to be solely away from everyone To take time to think to be in a location that’s not common To take time to think to be under a tree that’s providing me shelter when it hammers down with rain To take time to think to be in a place as though I’m Chris Tucker laughing on stage
After that I skedaddled to Walworth Road library on the bus because I wanted to find a book on nature
To take time to think if I live in a real abode To take time to think if I need to move to a different type of housing To take time to think if my roots are factual
My next destination was a walk along Southwark Bridge to view the River Thames
To take time to think about the boats that pass under and when they’re gonna return To take time to think about residing in a place around that area
In the end I got the bus back to my real home to just kick back and unwind
This year is the Platinum Jubilee, marking the 70th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth II taking the throne. Some people will be planning a street party, a picnic or viewing the platinum pageant – if so, you’re following in the footsteps of Southwark residents of a century and more ago.
Having the monarch live in a set place is a relatively young idea. In the Middle Ages, when many payments were made in kind rather than money, the royal court moved around the country, visiting royal estates. The royal court would have been familiar with Southwark, since London Bridge was the only Thames crossing near the royal palace at Westminster – visiting cities to the south of London, like Winchester, or royal holdings in France, would require travelling down Borough High Street to the Elephant.
Moving forward in time to Queen Victoria’s reign, we would definitely recognise the pomp and circumstance surrounding her Diamond Jubilee in 1897. Tuesday 22 June 1897 (two days after the actual anniversary) was a special Bank Holiday; there was a procession featuring 50,000 troops and officials from all over the Empire – the entire route, starting and ending at Buckingham Palace, was highly decorated and packed with people. The route crossed the Thames at London Bridge, continuing down Borough High Street and Borough Road to St George’s Circus before re-crossing the Thames at Westminster Bridge. To mark the occasion, the obelisk at St George’s Circus was replaced with a clock tower – later demolished in the interwar period before the obelisk was replaced there in 1998.
1897 Queen Victoria Diamond Jubilee procession royal coach passing Boswell and Sons Borough Road (P_2641)
Edward VII and George V had similar coronation processions – in 1902, the procession stopped outside the St George the Martyr vestry hall in Borough Road to allow the mayors of the metropolitan boroughs of south London to give good wishes and pledge their loyalty to the new monarch.
Edward VII’s coronation festivities also included the King’s Dinner. Schools, settlements, and mission halls all over modern Southwark hosted festive meals and entertainment for poor local residents (likely to be older people) – rather charmingly, many of the invitations ask attendees to bring their own cutlery.
1902 King’s Dinner for his poorer subjects ticket, 61 Southwark Street, 5 Jul (PC_394_43)
By the time of King George’s Silver Jubilee in 1935, celebrations were locally organised; by the individual metropolitan boroughs or individual streets or estates. However, Bermondsey Metropolitan Borough – a poor area hard-hit by the Great Depression – didn’t allocate any money to marking the jubilee, citing lack of funds. This led Mayor SR Weightman to turn down an invitation to meet the new king because, as he pointed out, his mayoral funds were earmarked for sending local disabled children on a holiday and he couldn’t personally afford the £80 to £100 outlay (up to £7,500 in today’s money). This principled stance wasn’t universally popular. In fact, newspapers reported that he was burnt in effigy outside Bermondsey Town Hall on 6 May by a crowd protesting his supposed lack of patriotism. Bermondsey locals organised over 200 neighbourhood street parties, funded by donations from residents – providing a treat for some 5,000 children. Most of them, luckily, had a budget surplus: the Cadbury Road committee used theirs for a children’s cinema outing, while organisers in Leonard Street saved theirs for a summer outing.
1935 Silver Jubilee King George V, Tea Party, Alscot Road, 6 May (PB_1761)
Two years later, celebrations for George VI’s coronations were much the same: organised and paid for locally. On 12 May, neighbourhoods all over modern Southwark threw street parties for local children, paid for by local residents clubbing together. Children attending usually got gifts, for instance a souvenir mug and box of sweeties, to take home. The Dog Kennel Hill estate’s party turned into a riot, as adult gate-crashers tried to make off with the children’s treats. Moreover, it rained on the day: local newspaper coverage suggests that some parties were spoiled entirely.
The festivities continued through the month. The metropolitan borough of Camberwell organised a party on 20 May for more than 20,000 schoolchildren at Crystal Palace, featuring concerts, sports, dancing, a Punch and Judy show, and a display of Maxim flying boats.
For Queen Elizabeth’s coronation in 1953, Bermondsey didn’t have to worry about balancing its books, since a wealthy American, Margaret Biddle, footed the bill. Although she was living in Monte Carlo, she’d spent time in Bermondsey during the Second World War, including a stint as a volunteer PR officer for the borough’ council. Bermondsey took the voyage of the Mayflower as the theme of its coronation festivities (quite probably to say thank you): MGM even loaned the borough a model of the ship!
The metropolitan borough of Camberwell kicked off its festivities by lighting a beacon on One Tree Hill. Camberwell also cleverly avoided the dilemma facing Bermondsey some 20 years earlier, by making the annual children’s holiday to Bexhill an official part of its celebrations. As in earlier years, there were lots of street parties. One in Vicarage Grove was recorded by the BBC and broadcast in Australia: as local newspapers reported, one listener was so moved by the loyal speech given at Vicarage Grove that he sent the speaker a care package!
1977 Silver Jubilee Elizabeth II and crowds outside Millpond Estate, Rotherhithe, 9 June, (c) Derek Rowe (Photos) Ltd. (P_11639)
The Silver Jubilee of 1977 saw a recreation of the historic Southwark Fair on the South Bank near the Globe theatre, with a parade of “living history“ – locals dressed in costumes ranging from the Elizabethan to the futuristic. As well as street parties, Bermondsey and Rotherhithe hosted the Queen during her Royal Progress down the Thames on 9 June – this river trip echoes the journeys made by Elizabeth I, and featured in the Diamond Jubilee celebrations as well. While in Southwark, the Queen unveiled a commemorative engraved stone and received a book containing old prints of Southwark, created by students at the London College of Printing (now the London College of Communication).
The Time and Talents Association 187 Bermondsey Street London SE1 Blackfriars Settlement a short history 1887 to 1987
The Industrial Revolution created an increase in the middle classes who were both well off and politically powerful, but it also created a huge influx of job seekers to cities. London’s population grew six-fold in the century between 1800 and 1900; sanitation and housing could not keep up with the revolution’s progress. Many people worked in poorly paid, unstable labouring or factory jobs. As Charles Booth’s Survey of London showed, poor communities lived in the shadow of rich ones, untouched by the optimistic progress of the Victorian era. In the late 19th Century, reformers tried to improve conditions by breaking the segregation between rich and poor neighbourhoods – and more importantly, by giving a neighbourly hand up, not a condescending handout. This neighbourly help came from settlement houses – community centres – that relied on live-in volunteers to organise, provide services, and lead courses. These volunteers were usually privileged young people, who gained the opportunity to live and work in urban communities and broaden their horizons. Settlement volunteers and users alike shared their skills and knowledge to help improve the communities they shared.
A number of Southwark’s settlements were founded specifically to meet women’s needs. While poor women faced dire living conditions, many better-off Victorian women (expected to be decorative, obedient, and largely confined to their homes) found their skills and education going to waste. In 1887, a group of women, led by Mina Gollack of the Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA), founded an organisation to help these young women of education and leisure use their ‘time and talents’ to help others – this ideal was so important that it gave the organisation its name.
Time and Talents London settlement moved to Bermondsey Street in 1899. It offered classes in arts, crafts, cooking, reading, and writing, a library and canteen, clubs for young people, and from 1913, a hostel even provided girls with a safe, supportive place to live. It remains a vital community centre for Rotherhithe today.
Other settlements sought to harness the time and talents of other groups of women. The Women’s University Settlement began in 1887 in Nelson Square: Octavia Hill was one of its founders, and Helen Gladstone (daughter of the Prime Minister) was the first warden.
The Settlement gave female university students the opportunity to live independently as they provided educational and youth services to one of the poorest areas of London. It offered mother-and-baby clinics, youth clubs, and workshops providing employment opportunities for disabled people. After the Second World War, its work expanded to other areas of the community, which prompted its renaming to the Blackfriars Settlement in 1961. Blackfriars Settlement is still an important hub for the community and beyond, located in the heart of Blackfriars.
Former home of the Peckham Settlement in Staffordshire Street, 1985Visit from Princess Margaret, patron of the Peckham Settlement
The Union of Girls’ Schools Settlement (better known later as the Peckham Settlement) was founded in 1896 and first operated from Calmington Road, Camberwell. By the early 20th century, the Union of Girls’ Schools for Social Service as it then became, had expanded to include hundreds of schools all over the country: this made the Peckham Settlement one of the biggest in London. Its wide base of support allowed it to provide funds to other organisations, and pioneer social welfare: the Settlement’s savings club was a model for the National Insurance Act of 1911. In 1935, it opened London’s first nursery school, and a government sponsored job club – the first in a charity – in 1987. The settlement had royal approval, being supported by Princess Margaret until her death in 2002 and then the Countess of Wessex until 2012. Although the community centre closed in 2012, the Peckham Settlement continues to fund local charities and communities.
We have mentioned a few of Southwark’s historic settlements in this blog but we have a range of reading material on the history of many others. If you would like to visit Southwark Archives to view this material, please book an appointment by emailing archives@southwark.gov.uk.
Bede House Association Fifty Years 1938 – 1988The Guild of PlayA history of the united girls’ schools’ mission
Alo-Wa was a black women’s Oral History group in Southwark, they formed in January 1990 and ran until 1991. Members of the group were seven women in total, all from African and Caribbean descent, and all living and working in Southwark at the time. They were based at the Southwark Women’s Centre, 2-8 Peckham High Street.
1991-10-27 Black Women’s Writers Workshop, Peckham. Organised by Southwark Women’s Equality Unit Jackie Holder. .The session was a chance to explore creativity whilst being given some guidance. Some members of the Alo-Wa group attended the event. Photograph from Phil Polgaze Collection, Southwark Archives.
At Southwark Archives, we first came across the group through a selection of photographs from the Phil Polgaze collection. These photographs document a writer’s workshop specifically for black women, taking place during Black History Month in 1991, where some of the Alo-Wa group attended.
We have been able to speak to two members who were part of the group, Marion Desouza and Gillian Walters, to find out more about the group’s history and activity. The story of Alo-Wa begins with the Southwark Women’s Centre, 2-8 Peckham High Street. Women who formed the group were attending the centre, and were already acquainted with one another.
Alo-Wa formed through an invitation from Wendy Francis. Francis was employed by the Willowbrook Urban Studies Centre in Peckham specifically to carry out oral histories. She had heard about the women’s centre, and went down to invite black women to form a new oral history group. The Willowbrook Urban Studies Centre was a community education project based in Southwark who worked with schools and adult groups to reflect on changes and issues in the borough. The centre was located 48, Willowbrook Road, Peckham.
The group started by meeting once a week on a Sunday, coming together at the Women’s Centre where they would share food, and look at the inspirational stories of women such as Mary Seacole, Claudia Jones and Nanny Maroon. When they began to turn to their own stories, they started to use a tape recorder to document their conversations. Marion said, “Wendy was good; she got us to tape everything. It was a good time in our lives.”
ALO-WA’s name comes from the Yoruba term for Our Story. The name of the group sets an expectation for a collective form of storytelling. The group’s main aim was for “self-appreciation and appreciation of others, self-understanding and understanding of others”[i]
Flyer for workshop ran by Alo-Wa in 1991 at Black Women’s Action, Walworth. Alo-Wa opened out their activities for participants to join them.
During the sessions, they asked questions about one another’s families, and Gillian said it was much about understanding parent’s stories, in order to understand their own. Gillian remembered that a point of inspiration for her was how Lillian had taped her father before he died:
“Her father was of African heritage and came here when he was 19; that was also quite an interesting aspect. The majority of us had Caribbean parents. That was a tie in regards to looking at things to help us understand each other differently. Some of us were from different islands. Therefore, that also incorporated our understanding of people’s experiences and expectations.”
Some of the questions they asked were documented in a book they went on to publish called Our Story (1991).
Front cover of ‘Our Story’ (1991). Lilian’s son, who was only ten at the time, created the drawing for the front cover. The contents page shows the topics that the group investigated, and within the book members respond to these themes through a format of question and answer that feels very conversational. Marion said to me, “Oral History is in the Black Community because traditionally we do not write anything down, we follow an oral tradition”.
The Alo-Wa group existed in a wider context of woman’s activity. The international women’s liberation movement of the 60s, which went on well into the 70s and 80s, brought direct attention to women’s histories, and women’s lives.
Marion Desouza was the Afro-Caribbean worker at Southwark Women’s Centre from 1990- 1992, where the Alo-Wa group met. At the Women’s Centre, Marion carried out various sessions to encourage women to get together and discuss women’s issues regarding sexuality, race, and offence. Marion told me it was a very inclusive space. There was also assistance to help women gain access to housing, benefits and pregnancy testing.
The Southwark Women’s Centre was the result of active work during the women’s movement. It was set up through the Southwark Women’s Actions Group linking up with the Southwark Women’s Equality Unit to find premises. A local housing association had four empty commercial units on Peckham High Street, and they said it could be used for the Women’s Centre. This created a very accessible space for women to drop in, whether that be on the way home for work, or, as it was a child friendly location, during the daytime. Alo-Wa’ s Gillian said that she would head there in-between work shifts and that Southwark Women’s Centre allowed her a place to rest, relax and be amongst other women to talk.
Southwark Women’s Centre was located between 2-8 Peckham High Street
Alo-Wa produced Our Story in 1991. They had a book launch, attended by Harriet Harman and the South London Press and, it took place during Black History Month 1991. To produce the book, Wendy Francis ran writing skills workshops for the women, and worked with them as an editor during the project.
During the project, the group applied for external funding which they received and put towards the cost of producing a book to document the group’s activity, and tell stories through writing. In both conversations with Marion and Gillian, they stressed to me that the oral aspect of the project, the live moment of the storytelling and the interactions and relationships that grew within the group, was though the real work and activity:
“We came from a place of being able to verbally say these things, and now you are asking us to write them down and put them in a book. When we spoke to Wendy afterwards, this is about us maturing as people and we stepped into an area that we had some understanding of, Lilian had a small understanding. The rest of us possibly had none. It was about putting it down on paper, in a way that can be visualised by other people. When you tell a story, when you tell a good story the person is having a visual experience of when they read the words. We had never done that, we always used our voices.”
The women went to Neal’s Yard in Covent Garden, where they were shown how to use computer software to work out the layout and graphics for a book. After this, they discovered that Southwark had its own printers, and this is where they did the printing for the book. They were shown around behind the scenes and learnt about the paper, grades and ink, and able to see the printing process in action.
‘Our Story’; book launch with Harriet Harman, 1991. Photographer unknown.Article in the Southwark Sparrow newspaper, 10 May 1991
During the conversations with Marion and Gillian, they both stressed that the relationships have been long lasting, and that a few of them have managed to stay in touch across the years. This seems like a testament to the group’s activities. Gillian said:
“It would be interesting for all of us to be coming together again. However, would it be that people would wish to be in the format together again, and what would we be discussing? The thing about it is, life goes on. The truth of it is, it was a fantastic experience.”
During the few years in which the group was active, they also worked with the well-known social historian Anna Davin, were interviewed for a BBC radio show by, Nerys Hughes, a copy of which we are still trying to track down. They worked closely with Jackie Holder, from the Willowbrook Urban Studies Centre and alongside others Brenda Ellis, the LGBT worker at the Women’s Centre, Nashmin Sukasad, and Madhu Patel – both at Southwark Women’s Centre. They also worked with Peckham Black Women’s Centre located at 69 Bellenden Road.
Alo-Wa at the 1991-10-27 Black Women’s Writers Workshop, Peckham. Photograph from Phil Polgaze collection, Southwark Archives.
At Southwark Archives, we are in the process of digitising a booklet containing texts the group used to inform their autobiographical writing, which may have influenced the writing in Our Story.
Southwark Archives are facilitating a creative writing session on Tuesday 5 October 2021 as part of the Poets in the Archives series, taking inspiration from Our Story.
In 2014 whilst working in Southwark Archives, an ex-colleague Steve, came to me with a card from the card index and asked me if I knew anything about the details on it. On the card was the title of a film – My Little Grey Home in the West by John Goldschmidt, a student of the National Film and Television School. The card stated that the council’s social services had purchased a copy of the film and it was shown at a Welfare Committee meeting on 13th January 1970. The film was about Newington Lodge Public Assistance Institution for the homeless, a portrait of some of its residents. The film was released in 1968, one year before its demolition. I will return to this…
From orphanage to infirmary to workhouse to homeless institution to lodge
Throughout its history, Newington Lodge changed its name and its use several times. Although from 1852 it was the Workhouse for St Mary Newington parish, run by the Governors and Guardians of the Poor, the building started life in 1850 as a children’s home and school. The need for workhouse accommodation however, was becoming desperate and the children resident there were moved to a District school in Anerley. The new workhouse which replaced the overcrowded one on Walworth Road opposite the present day Westmoreland Road, was designed by Henry Jarvis (the same architect who designed Newington Vestry) and constructed on the other end of Westmoreland Road, near to Thurlow Street. It occupied the area of what is now Latimer Block (opposite the Hour Glass pub) on the Aylesbury Estate. The area was called Walworth Villa Estate and was part of Walworth Common.
Notice of an auction to sell the contents of the building of the former workhouse on Walworth Road, 1852
The location of the former Newington Workhouse. Showing Latimer block of the Aylesbury Estate on Beaconsfield Road and the Hour Glass pub opposite to the right
Newington Workhouse c.1852
Men and women were housed in opposite parts of the workhouse. The infirmary was located roughly in the middle and there was accommodation for around 500.
Being sick, having a mental illness, being too old to care for yourself or unemployed and without the financial means to help yourself left you little choice in finding shelter, food or care in 19th Century London. A spell at the Workhouse was the last or only choice, particularly if you were single and unmarried with children. However, the 1834 Poor Law Act which was brought in to overhaul the poor relief system introduced a more robust administrative system in England and Wales. Local parishes formed Unions and within these were an elected body of Guardians, each with the responsibility of the care of the poor across their individual parish.
St Mary, Newington and Walworth became a poor law union in 1836 following the Act of 1834. A local act meant that the parish could operate outside of the new act for a time
List of persons receiving outdoor relief from the parish
The new act contributed towards a change in attitudes toward the poor and their predicaments were seen as self-inflicted. The Workhouse would be seen more as a deterrent and a place to work in order to earn food and shelter. The new act meant that it was now unlawful for any poor able-bodied unemployed man or woman to claim poor relief (though outdoor relief remained for widows, children and the sick).
Conditions at workhouses up and down the country are well documented and St Mary Newington Workhouse was no different. Sharing bathing water and towels, skin infections, poor quality diet, back-breaking work, high mortality rates and poor sanitary conditions are just some of the experiences reported. There was an open sewer, part of the Earl Sluice, situated by the shed of the workhouse which also happened to be the place that the very sick were sent for fresh air and separation from other inmates. It was not difficult to see why people felt that they were in a prison, their crime being poverty.
Moreover, being given the term ‘inmate’ which was the general description given to residents at workhouses and asylums and carried out into the 20th Century, undoubtedly contributed to a general stigma and prejudice that existed toward the poor. So much so that it was not uncommon for people to record alternative addresses for babies born in one.
A typical menu at Newington Workhouse in 1865. Compare that to the one for 1814 in the previous workhouse. Note that the children were also given “strong beer”, water was generally unsafe to drink.
Workhouse menu, October 1814
Note the number of people living beyond 90! Sources: A History of Newington Lodge, 1849-1869 (researched and written by B G Morley, L.B.Southwark Welfare Department.
The discovery of “unclaimed” bodies at St Mary Newington Workhouse being sold to the Anatomy School of Guy’s Hospital by the Workhouse master, Alfred Feist and his collaborator and undertaker, Robert Hogg, showed the dispensability with which those in power could treat the poor. However, this discovery proved to be a major scandal for the Southwark Board of Guardians, particularly as it was revealed that the relatives of those who had pauper funerals were defrauded. The coffins were filled with stones or the bodies of their relatives substituted with the bodies of other inmates (The St James’s Chronicle, 21 January 1858). Adding insult to injury, during their trial at the Central Criminal Court in 1858, Hogg escaped prosecution owing to a deal between his solicitor and the Poor Law inspector, while Feist, although found guilty of collusion, was freed on a point of law which basically said the relatives did not originally specify that they didn’t want their deceased relatives dissected. Careful what you do not wish for.
During the 1860s and 1870s a number of extensions took place at Newington Workhouse to accommodate the increasing number of poor, sick and homeless people. For example in around 1866 a 2-storey female ‘vagrant’ ward was added.
In 1869 St Mary Newington and St George the Martyr Parishes joined St Saviour’s Union. So the administration of St George’s, Mint Street, Christchurch, Marlborough Street and Newington Workhouses came under one Board of Guardians. (It’s worth pointing out that St Mary Newington Guardians remained the owners of the buildings used for poor relief in their parish, which meant that St Saviour’s Union paid St Mary’s rent, which they in turn could use to improve the Walworth Common Estate). A new female infirmary with laundry and bakery was built along Thurlow Street.
By 1877 it became necessary to convert Newington Workhouse into an Infirmary for the large number of sick in the St Saviour’s Union area. Outbreaks of smallpox still blighted the Infirmary and overcrowding soon became not just a health issue but a nuisance to the local residents, who endured the sight of daily removals of dead bodies from the Infirmary. The Infirmary now had in excess of 1000 inmates. Meanwhile, a new, larger infirmary was built on Champion Hill in 1887 and the sick poor were soon moved there from Newington Infirmary. The mother of screen legend, Charlie Chaplin, stayed there in 1896. A seven year old Charlie and his brother stayed in the Newington Workhouse along with some 1300 inmates.
Children’s activities in the workhouse varied; girls mainly did household work and learned the duties of being a housemaid which would see them fit for work outside of the Workhouse. Boys were educated and given religious instruction and taught skills like blacksmithing.
A section from Booth’s ‘Descriptive Map of London Poverty 1889’ showing part of Walworth and Newington Workhouse north of Albany Road. Red = well do-do, middle class, Pink = fairly comfortable, Yellow = upper-middle, upper class, wealthy, Light Blue = poor, Dark blue = very poor, Grey = mixed
Apart from another change in name in 1899 to Newington Institution, possibly as a result of the formation of the metropolitan boroughs, the building’s purpose was unchanged. It was still run as a workhouse, though now under the administration of the new Southwark Board of Guardians as the day to day administration of the former vestries was transferred to the Metropolitan Boroughs of London. Further alterations and additions were made in the turn of the 20th Century. One of them being the married couple’s quarters and a few years later it would be possible for older couples to make their own meals!
However, overcrowding and understaffing continued to be a major problem for the workhouse. The treatment of inmates was still archaic and often cruel.
South London Press, 3 January 1891
Reynold’s Newspaper, 27 July 1913
Daily Citizen (Manchester), 7 May 1913
Newington Institution survived World War I largely unscathed, though it did its bit like many large establishments in helping the war effort by providing accommodation for the sick and injured and recycling food by-products for munitions.
By 1929 with the introduction of the Local Government Act, Workhouses were replaced by Public Institutions and the Board of Guardians replaced by the London County Council (LCC) and a new Public Assistance Committee. The new committee assumed responsibility for the workhouses of Gordon Road, Christchurch and Newington. One of the major changes during the 1930s was to no longer admit the mentally ill. They were sent to asylums. Single men, women and the elderly infirm were still admitted. Other aesthetic changes were made, including the inclusion of radios, flowers, a reduction in the number of beds, lockers for residents, bed side chairs, table cloths and so on. Crucially, from around 1937 residents were allowed leave for the day.
Newington Public Institution suffered extensive bomb damage during the Blitz in 1941 but it carried on housing residents and provided accommodation for families made homeless as a result of bomb damage to their homes. Like elsewhere food rationing was a fact of life. By 1947 the over 60s had free movement and whilst bomb damage repairs were being undertaken, there was a reduction in beds which accommodated the elderly, infirm, healthy and a small unit for expectant mothers. From 1948, with the introduction of the National Assistance Act, the Institution became temporary accommodation for homeless people and families.
Section of the Ordnance Survey map of 1951 showing Newington Lodge on Westmoreland Road and Thurlow Street with the R Whites factory on the right
Changes and conversions continued apace in the 1950s, mainly to try and remove reminders of the workhouse days, though it was impossible to do that for the exterior of the building, which remained imposing and drab. It was renamed Newington Lodge, replacing ‘Institution,’ a term reminiscent of workhouse days. Televisions and new upholstery were introduced and further extensions and modifications were made for elderly couples.
For all the praise Newington Lodge received for these positive changes, the conditions in which its homeless families were purported to be living was becoming an ever increasing issue in the late 1950s and 1960s, gaining the attention of television broadcasters and the press much to the increasing irritation of the LCC, who felt that it was an intrusion into the lives of the elderly and homeless.
“Up to three families are crammed into one room at Newington Lodge, and the rooms contain up to thirteen beds. Edna shares two toilets with sixty-four other people….
…the doctor told Edna that there was dysentery “in the walls” and warned her to keep her children as clean as she could” (Families Without A Home, by Jeremy Sandford , The Observer, 17th September 1961).
In 1966 the new London Borough of Southwark were more amenable and gave permission for the BBC to film in the old hostel block of the Lodge. This surely added to the perception of an archaic institution, still stuck in the past, when scenes from the film were used in the controversial docu-drama Cathy Come Home, a film about homelessness.
By the mid 1960s, the number of elderly, infirm and homeless families accommodated was down to around 15. Even though the old area of Walworth Common, including Newington Lodge was now earmarked for redevelopment for the building of the new Aylesbury Estate housing area, amenities carried on being provided for the mainly elderly residents.
Some images of the former Newington Lodge, c.1969 from Southwark Archives
Interior corridor
Exterior
Dining room
Laundry
Bedroom
Exterior
Back to that Index card
The last warden of Newington Lodge was Mr R Morley and it was under his management that approval for a film about the residents at the Lodge was made in 1968 by John Goldschmidt. My Little Grey Home in the West would be exhibited at the National Film Theatre and Royal College of Arts the same year to critical acclaim. By the following year the number of residents at Newington Lodge was around 272. They were transferred to various sites including the new Livesey old people’s home and by 17June the last residents were moved out, leaving the former workhouse empty after 117 years. On 31July 1969, Councillor Mrs L N Brown, Mayor of Southwark removed the first brick from Newington Lodge, beginning its demolition.
Removal of the first brick from Newington Lodge by the Mayor of Southwark, Mrs L N Brown in 1969
Demolition of Newington Lodge, c.1969
Sadly, the copy of the film purchased by the social services department in 1969 could not be traced, but knowing how important it was to have a copy for the borough, particularly given the year it was made, shortly before its demolition, I decided to contact Mr John Goldschmidt directly and the rest is history (sorry) as they say.
The Observer, 1969
I put the British Film Institute in touch with John who, as a true professional, had safely stored both the original negative and soundtrack. Arrangements were made thereafter to digitise the film with the BFI and a DVD copy was donated to Southwark Archives. We thank both John and the BFI and of course, my ex-colleague Steve who showed me the index card with the title of the film on it.
Medication time
Exterior of Newington Lodge, now Beaconsfield Road
Scenes from the film My Little Grey Home in the West.
The film is available to view within the archive for privatenresearch purposes and it is hoped that one day it will be available on BFI player.
References
Much of the research for this blog comes from A History of Newington Lodge 1849 – 1969 written in 1970 by Mr B G Morley of Southwark Council’s welfare department. We owe a debt of gratitude for the research he undertook.
Living in the Shadows, Southwark News, 7 July 2005
Southwark Civic News, No.9 October 1969
Grim Realities – a Model Workhouse, by James Greenwood (copy of essay, Pamphlets collection ref. 362.51)
It counts everyone, and everyone counts in it – that’s the point of the census. For Southwark’s current communities, an accurate census means accurate population data, which means funding for vital services like schools, transport, and doctors’ surgeries. But for people in the future, the census is a treasure trove of information on individuals, families, households, and communities – one that lets family historians re-trace family connections through the ages and helps explain how the neighbourhood populations of London’s most historic borough have changed through nearly two centuries’ of time.
Every 10 years since 1801, the census has asked questions about the population of England and Wales and compiled information about the make-up of local neighbourhoods; data on individuals survives from 1841 onward. The personal information shared at every census is kept confidential for 100 years. After that, it’s open for the public to explore, and to learn about the life and times of their ancestors and those who lived in their communities in the past.
The census return is a list: of all the buildings in a given street, including unoccupied ones, and all the households within a given building. Separate returns exist for large institutions, like workhouses, hospitals, schools, and prisons. Each household’s return includes the people present there the night the census was taken; these may include visiting friends, lodgers, and even patients in hospital wards and prisoners in jail cells! The information collected about individuals varies with each census, but usually includes their name, birthplace, age on census night, occupation, and how they relate to others household members.
This information can be incredibly valuable for people interested in family, local, and social history. Tracing a person through the census shows them growing up; tracing an address shows how neighbourhoods change through the years. But it also provides unique insights. Answers to census questions on health, birthplace, and immigration shine a light on the diversity of Southwark’s residents – a diversity that often doesn’t show in other record collections. Questions about employment show how common child labour was in the past, and a host of occupations, from brushmaking to toshing, that no longer exist.
On a street or neighbourhood level, census information shows changes in environment and land usage, but questions about housing also show how values and norms have changed; over time, what counts as “overcrowded” or “sub-standard” residences vary a lot. Sometimes what you find is totally unexpected, like the 5 year old homeworker Roger Little of Dulwich – as the return explains, Roger was an Airedale Terrier, and his work was being the Little family’s watchdog.
“Incidentally, we have an Airedale terrier – do not know if particulars required, but in case you want them, here they are…” (1911 census return for 118 Turney Road, Dulwich)
But more than that, the census gives the future a snapshot of the past that includes everyone. The voices – and the silences – in the census send a message about who we are, where we live, and what we value. It can provide vital evidence of the problems we thought were important and how we sought to fix them. But it does something even more important: it ties all our individual stories together into the story of a place and a time. That gives people – now and in the future – a hook to hang their own stories on, an opportunity to belong somewhere and somewhen.
Taking part in the 2021 census is your chance to help future generations discover their past. By completing your census questionnaire on 21 March 2021 you leave your mark on history. And maybe that’s something your friends, family, and colleagues hadn’t thought about. So we hope you’ll encourage them to do their bit too.
We recently had a request at Southwark Archives for images showing the inside of Jones and Higgins department store in Peckham. Most available photographs show the exterior of the store with its iconic clock tower on the corner of Rye Lane and Peckham High Street. Diving into our Jones and Higgins archive collection though, we found these pictures from inside the store, and they were too good to not share for History Begins At Home under the theme of Trading Spaces.
The images show a variety of departments from about 1910 as well as in the 1960s-70s. Do you remember shopping at Jones and Higgins or other similar department stores of the past? Share your memories on Twitter.
With the launch of our new Disability history collection online, we thought it would also be nice to feature some more items from our archives about Southwark Disablement Association (SDA):
SDA Independent Living conference, 1991Aims of the SDA, circa 1980SDA at the Disability Benefits Rally, Trafalgar Square, 20th October 1990 (Frank Roper)
SDA’s new ‘traffic light’ flyer, 1982, and Call-Out for volunteers
Staff and service users from the SDA Review 1981-1986
Southwark Heritage Blog 