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I’ve often wondered why and how the women on my maternal line were and are so strong. There is no better place to start searching for answers than with my 2 x great grandmother Hannah Holmes Drew. In the leadup to Mother’s Day, I wanted to share this story of Hannah as she represents for me, the start of a journey to a better life for this side of my family. Hannah is as far back as I can go photographically on my direct maternal line. I know who Hannah’s mother was (another Hannah) but I do not have an image of Hannah senior. This photograph of Hannah junior was one of a few precious possessions my grandmother Connie brought back to Australia with her in the 1940s. There was an additional photograph of Hannah, one where she had her hair in plaits that wrapped around her head, similar to how the Russian women used to wear it, Connie said. Sadly, that photograph has long been lost and I never got to see it. Hannah’s rise from abject poverty to relative middle-class comfort is a story of inspiration and triumph and in presenting to you her story, I hope that future generations will continue the work that women like Hannah started, to create a world where women were equal to men and were given the opportunity for a better life. Connie spoke extremely fondly of her grandmother, a woman she never got to meet. All she knew had been relayed by the two most important influences on her life, her mother Ada and her grandfather George. I’ve taken the stories Connie told me and laid them side by side with the facts of Hannah’s life to gain a greater understanding of the woman who is four generations removed from me.
Hannah Amelia Holmes was born in 1850, the last child of John Holmes, a bricklayer and Hannah Read, a tailoress (dressmaker). She had six brothers and three sisters. John’s family had come from Devon and Yorkshire, but it is as yet unknown where Hannah senior’s parents were from. There are tantalising links with the French Huguenot community (religious refugees), who numbered in the tens of thousands in East London. And as Hannah herself worked as a tailoress, it is not impossible that her ancestors worked as weavers, an occupation that was in decline by the time Hannah senior was working making clothing for sale. When the 1851 census was recorded, the year after baby Hannah was born, the family were living at no. 88 Hare St, Bethnal Green. Hare Street (now called Cheshire Street) was one of the most notorious streets in one of the poorest suburbs of London. The census reveals that John and Hannah and their ten children were living in this house with two other families, both consisting of six people each. This made a total of six adults and eighteen children in the one abode. The other two families made their living from general dealing and work in the silk weaver trade. This kind of overcrowding was by no means unusual in the area. The occupants at no. 86 Hare St for example, numbered 27 persons. A report made in 1848 found Hare Street in the following condition; ‘This street is abominably dirty and foul…the back yards of the houses here are in a most scandalous state…the backyard of no. 79 is in a perfectly beastly state of filth; the privy is full and smells most offensively.’ Many of the houses of the district were built up to two feet below the footpath, resulting in copious amounts of dust in the summer and mud in the winter entering the homes. The report went on to say that the houses were ‘very damp and become sources of much disease to the inhabitants.’ Drainage was poor and the houses overcrowded; rheumatism was common as was fever which took the lives of many adults and children. The area was occupied mainly by labourers and weavers and a great many were affected by intemperance (alcoholism).
Hannah was just 19 months old when her mother died. By then the family had moved again, this time to no. 2 Little Manchester Street. With ten children to attend to and her dressmaker work, Hannah senior must have worked day and night to care and provide for her family. John would have been out of the house long hours for his bricklayer work. Something was happening with Hannah during the last weeks of her life and whilst we may never know exactly what it was, we do know its consequences. In August 1852, Hannah suffered a stroke. She was only 44 years old but already worn out by her circumstances. Her death, certified by a coroner, lists her stroke as being ‘accelerated by mental depression’. With her mind in decline, her body followed. What became of young Hannah after her mother’s death is not entirely clear. Her father John died just two and a half years later, leaving his ten children as orphans. The eldest child, Mary Ann, who was aged 25, was already married and the others ranged in age from 23 to Hannah at age 5. It would be another six years before Hannah would appear in the records again, in the 1861 census where she is listed as a servant living in the household of her sister Mary Ann. It may appear harsh to be treating your 11-year-old sister as your servant but Hannah may have just been helping to look after her sister’s young children. Over the years Mary Ann would take on the role of mother and provide a safe home for many of her siblings. Ten years later Hannah would still be living with Mary Ann but she was by then working independently as a collar stamper. Mary Ann was supplementing her husband George’s carman wage by working as a tailoress, a skill taught to her by her mother. They all lived at 6 Temple St, Bethnal Green, in a household of 15 people from two different families. Hannah, at age 21, had yet to escape her overcrowded circumstances.
But change was afoot for Hannah. It is unfortunately not known how Hannah met her beau, George Drew but the pair did live approximately three miles from each other in the years immediately prior to their marriage. George lived in a house in Flint St, Bromley with just six other members of his family, in stark contrast to Hannah’s poor living conditions. Hannah was 24 years old when she married George, aged 27, who was a ship’s plumber originally from Plymouth. Hannah had chosen well as the Drew family were of the middle class, a step up from Hannah’s situation. Connie told me the story of how, when they decided they would marry, George took himself off to Hatton Garden, a famous jewellery street in London, to find Hannah an engagement ring. He chose the diamond himself; clearly a man who knew what he wanted and an indication he was also wanting the best for his bride-to-be. George and Hannah were married on the 23rd August 1874 in West Ham. Children soon followed but life was not without its tribulations for Hannah and George. Hannah would give birth to six children but only four would grow to adulthood. Her first born son was named William George, born in 1876. He would never marry. Next came Harriet Lydia, born in 1878. She married and had one son. Baby Ernest was born in late 1880. He is the one child of the family I cannot find a baptism for, although his birth was officially registered. With a four-year-old, a two-year-old and a baby, Hannah had her hands full and there is no indication in any of the records that they employed domestic help in their home. I imagine, from the stories and records that survive, that Hannah was quite a capable woman, having been a domestic servant from such a young age. But something went wrong in the early days of her child rearing, for eldest son Will would not develop normally and lived with a deformity of the chest wall all his life. Baby Ernest also suffered from the same illness, known as rickets, a lack of calcium and vitamin D, leading to a softening of the bones. Ernest did not survive, dying around the age of two.
The family lived in a few different houses over the years but always stayed in the same Bromley area, close to where George had his work at the docks. Ada was the next child to be born, in April 1882, at 36 Findhorn St, Bromley. Just a year earlier, the family’s home had been accommodating no less than 13 people; two families including the Drews. In the mid-1990s, I took at trip whilst in London to find the house; sadly it had long been demolished so there is no telling how small or large the dwelling was. Two years after Ada was born, baby Daisy’s presence graced the family. All three girls, Harriet, Ada and baby Daisy were baptised together in February 1884. With no baptism record for Ernest (who died), Hannah may have been anxious to have her girls christened in a sign of faith that they would be protected. It made little difference as Daisy died the following year. The last child in the family, Lillian, was born the same year Daisy died. There would be no more children for Hannah, although she was still only 35 years old by this time.
By the time of the 1891 census, the family had moved again, to 54 Aberfeldy Street. The family kept in close contact with George’s parents and siblings, but they do not appear to have kept in touch with Hannah’s side of the family. Ada told her daughter Connie that Hannah never spoke of her parents or siblings. No family stories from that side have been handed down and everything we know is from the official records. Perhaps it was that Hannah had moved onwards and upwards with her life and did not wish to remain tied to the days when everyday survival was not a given. She had built a comfortable life with George and had four loving children and was content in all she had gained. In researching Hannah’s story further this week, the fact that Hannah did not talk about her side of the family bothered me so I dug a little deeper. I have now discovered that around the time her second child was born in 1878, Hannah’s brother David, the sibling closest in age to her and the one she lived with until her marriage, died suddenly at age 30. He left no children. In fact Hannah’s first daughter, the child born in 1878, was named Harriet, after her beloved sister Harriet, who had died four years previously as well. Perhaps these two siblings were the most precious to Hannah and after losing them, she may have not kept in close contact with the others. Of her three daughters though, two of them were given the second name Mary, also perhaps in honour of Hannah’s eldest sister Mary Ann, who had looked after her.
The house in Aberfeldy Street would be the Drew family home for at least 10 years, from 1891 to 1901. In both census records another couple shares the house with the family, so it may have been that the house had enough rooms for one to be let out, in order to supplement the family’s income. There was enough money coming in however, for the children to be indulged in middle class pursuits. Daughter Ada started piano lessons at the age of six and Hannah would listen carefully to her practicing. She enjoyed the traditional songs but if Ada started playing a modern song, Hannah would interject immediately. ‘Ada, you’re not playing the right music.’ To which Ada would reply, ‘Yes, I am mother!’ ‘Don’t lie to me Ada’, her mother would say. ‘Now play the right music this instant or I’ll tell your father.’ Hannah, like a typical wife from the era, would defer to her husband for guidance and follow his lead with the discipline. I suspect Hannah though, was more protective than disciplinarian when it came to rearing her children, from the stories handed down. Hannah’s girls would also attend dances and enjoy London nightlife, each delaying marriage until their late 20s and beyond.
In many ways, Hannah and George were polar opposites. George was quite an outspoken man and was quick to temper. Hannah by contrast had a placid and agreeable nature. Ada told Connie that she never once saw her mother lose her temper. The same could not be said for her father. As the children grew older and were able to bring some additional money into the home, by 1903 the family was able to upgrade to a newer home at 26 St Martins Ave, East Ham, some three miles from their former home. A plaque on the building today reads 1897. Hannah finally had some brand-new furniture bought for the new home, she was settling in nicely to her new community and the family was well enough off to have some portraits taken. The photograph of Hannah probably dates from the 1890s, as she appears to be in her 40s as does George, whose portrait is of the same vintage. The brooch at her throat is a circular gold piece, studded in the centre by a pearl. Hannah has her hair curled in the front and her long hair at the back plaited and twisted into a bun. She wears long earrings (is this where I get my love of long earrings from?) and what appears to be a thick gold chain with a pendant. Hannah appears serene, just as she was in life.
On the 21st January 1904, in her new home with all its middle-class trimmings, Hannah celebrated her 54th birthday. Four days later she was gone. She had succumbed to the same illness as her mother; a stroke. Connie recounted the story of her grandmother’s death to me in detail, a tragedy that her mother Ada had been a witness to. On a cold bleak January morning, the family was getting ready to go to their local Sunday morning church service, as was usual. George was particular about his appearance and always wore a starched collar, called a Stiff Dicky. After checking himself in the mirror, he noticed something not quite right. He called out, in his hot-tempered manner, to his wife. ‘Look Hannah, a crease!’ Hannah replied quietly, ‘Oh George, don’t worry, I’ll fix it.’ And so she did and afterwards he was penitent for having lost his temper with her. In looking for answers to her mother’s death, Ada’s telling of this episode shows that she must have felt that it had affected her mother in some way. To be held up to such criticism, considering that Hannah had made her living perfecting the art of the collar decades previously, I suspect it would have silently hurt Hannah’s pride, although she would never have let it show. Years later, when Connie was a teenager and would spend time with her grandfather George, he would often be heard to say to his second wife, ‘My first wife was an angel’, in a sign that he may have regretted taking her gentle nature for granted. And so, on their way back from church that morning, walking up a slight incline, George and Hannah lingered behind their girls. They were far enough away that at first the girls did not notice the crowd that had gathered further down the street, until they heard their father’s voice calling to them to come quickly. Hannah was slumped on the footpath, so a taxi was called and between George and the girls, they were able to get her home to make her more comfortable. The doctor was called but there was nothing he could do. Hannah died later that day.
Hannah outlived her mother’s age by ten years, a direct consequence of the more comfortable life she had lived. Hannah did not have to endure long days and nights churning out clothes for strangers but was instead supported by a husband whose steady habits and work as a ship’s plumber had meant she could raise her children without distraction. Her girls were encouraged to participate in such leisurely activities as the piano, a scenario impossible for Hannah and her siblings. In time Hannah’s efforts to bring up her girls unencumbered by manual labour would be rewarded with feminine success in the new workplace of the 20th century, the office. Her daughters were the first generation in her family to occupy this space, working as typists alongside, although not yet equal to men. Hannah did not live long enough to see the Suffragette movement gain momentum and the eventual success that saw millions of women given the right to vote in Britain. But her grand-daughter Connie would go on to become a bookkeeper and demand equal pay during the second world war. And so forth down the line, through my mother, myself, my niece and all of Hannah’s female descendants. We enjoy the freedom, better living and working conditions and equal rights that Hannah could only have dreamt about but had a hand in setting into motion for her descendants. I wonder; did Hannah deliberately wait until she had found a husband who she knew could give her and her future children a better life? Did she take affirmative action to limit the size of her family so she did not perpetuate the cycle of poverty she had been born into? I’d like to think she would nod her head in quiet acknowledgement of her wise decision to rise above her compromised situation and marry a man who demanded better for his girls by proclaiming that they would never follow their predecessors by ‘earning their salt at sewing.’ Happy Mother’s Day Hannah, from all the great grand-daughters down the line from you.
Hannah’s last home at 26 St Martin’s Ave, East Ham