Child labour is often associated with Victorian Britain and something somewhat mysteriously called Dark Satanic Mills that for years I thought were a form of windmill. As mills in my experience were always eye-catchingly attractive, I was at a loss to understand how anyone could possibly describe them as Satanic. This was clearly because I did not move very far from the riverside towns of industrial Kent where the darker variety were definitely absent. We were reassured that the evils of child labour had been eradicated by the great reforms that followed on the heels of the industrial age and at school a great deal of emphasis was placed upon books like The Water Babies. Tom’s misfortunes were discussed in depth at St Botolph’s and it was constantly reiterated how fortunate we were to be born in the middle years of the enlightened twentieth century but in actual fact nothing is ever quite as it seems. My mother and her many siblings living in Maxim Road, Crayford in the early years of the new century and supposedly attending the local Roman Catholic school did so on an irregular basis because all too often they were needed for seasonal field work to bulk out the family income. There was no question that paid employment came first.
Maxim Road still exists though the cramped terraced housing has changed markedly and the Constant’s two bedroomed rented cottage, so inadequate for thirteen lively children can no longer be found. Old Nan always observed that despite its shortcomings it had been a Bleeding Sight Better than the farm cottage at Hextable where the oldest had been born and which had boasted a single sleeping area. Going up in the world always depends on how far down in it you were in the first place. Aunt Mag told her own four children that they were indeed fortunate compared to her and her sisters. The house in Iron Mill Lane on the estate built in the 1920s for Vickers’ workers with its own garden, front and back to play in was almost luxurious. Living in Maxim Road, she said, had meant often playing on the Heath at Old Bexley and having to take the youngest ones along with you, rain or shine and staying there all day long or risking a clout around the ear for coming back early. Life had not been perfect and there hadn’t been as much time for play as they would have liked but they didn’t complain about their lot and overall they had been happy.
They probably did not realise that their road was named after Hiram Maxim, an American émigré who appeared to have abandoned his original wife and family and run off with Sarah his secretary. Not an unusual story of course but likely in those days to raise eyebrows in the district. Before long, however, Hiram had redeemed himself with the invention of curling tongs and efficient mouse traps and it was even rumored he had been a contender for inventing the electric light bulb. What brought him most renown, though and caused the enormous admiration of his brother Hudson who hurried from America to bathe in reflected glory, was becoming responsible for the Maxim Gun. This killing device had been updated and improved by 1912 when Vickers proudly presented it to the world where it remained in service until 1968. No wonder Hiram had his very own named local road.
When they weren’t working of course the Constant girls were allowed to roam the local streets, amusing themselves by knocking on doors and running away, swinging from lampposts and if they could find a length of rope, becoming totally occupied with skipping games. However, by the time each of them reached the age of twelve Old Nan, who had never had a day’s education in her life, felt that too much school was of no advantage and applied for permanent exemptions which were granted without comment. This meant that each girl was free to enter a local factory and work not more than eight hours a day. Vickers was always the workplace of choice. Crayford was inordinately proud of Vickers.
Back then children were rarely asked what they wanted to do when they grew up and if my mother had been asked she would have said, if she had been aware of the term, that the work of a textile artist greatly appealed to her. She would have liked to hand paint silk scarves and shawls with fantails and finches. There was little chance of this career choice ever presenting itself, however, and in effect each young Constant had worked on a part time basis before and after school for years at various times selling newspapers, as occasional milk girls, street hawkers, errand runners and frequently as artificial flower makers. The latter was popular because it could be done at home until late into the evening and from my mother’s point of view the artistry and creativity took her a step closer to the painting of fantails and finches. An investigation into child labour in London in the early 1900s found that a quarter of all children between five and thirteen had paid jobs of one kind or another but at twelve it was generally accepted that a child was old enough and responsible enough to take on a regular employment.
Although I was suspicious of the authenticity of some of these stories of the generation that preceded my own they did much to convince me that by 1940 when I was born the British child was a great deal better off than those who immediately preceded them. There had clearly been far less time for fun for those of my mother’s generation but by 1950 I don’t recall ever being stopped from play in order to help with household tasks and there was never any suggestion that I should take a job before or after school. At times I was even asked what I wanted to do when I grew up and encouraged to mention working in an office. The working class child was at last definitely recognized as such which was a step forward because the State had treated Edwardian children much the same as adults and they were seen as legally responsible for their own behaviour from a very young age but by the 1940s life had changed dramatically. Some of the local teenage boys might well have regretted the loss of the degree of independence that was previously offered them and the surprisingly adult privileges that went alongside such as the right to smoke, drink and even to gamble. Restrictions with regard to visiting pubs suddenly became the vogue and schoolchildren were no longer offered sugary gin spoons in public bars to keep them quiet. By my time lemonade and packets of crisps had been ushered in and we were placed firmly outside the pub doors.
In fact this new attitude had been developing well before the First World War when the Children’s Charter was established. It had introduced juvenile courts and decided that all under the age of fourteen should henceforth be seen as children. It then became illegal to sell children alcohol and tobacco but this was never enforced to any extent and fifty years later in Northfleet my grandmother could safely send me to the off license happy in the knowledge that I would come back with a jug of beer. Some things were slower to change than others though when she was asked my mother admitted that the dream of hand painting birds on backgrounds of silk remained with her long after she had left childhood behind.
No comments:
Post a Comment