As the sun came up on Monday 19th June 1815 George Rose counted his blessings. He had been in the thick of the action during what we know as the Battle of Waterloo. He had been badly wounded (so badly that it was not until June 1816 that he was discharged from the military hospital in Colchester) but, unlike many of his comrades, he had survived. George wasn’t to know it but an eventful 58 years lay ahead of him. He died in his native Jamaica in 1873.
On 10th June we published a post about Trumpet-Major James Goodwin, another black soldier who survived Waterloo. We made a passing reference to George Rose and, John Ellis, author of the article about Goodwin, told us that over a decade ago he had done a lot of original research into the career of George. Today we reproduce John’s original article about George Rose with a short postscript by John that casts further light on George’s life.
‘The nearest run thing you ever saw in your life’, that’s how Arthur Wellesley, the 1st Duke of Wellington, described the Battle of Waterloo, a battle that saw the final defeat of Napoleon and shaped the course of European history.
In an event of less historical significance, in 2014 two thirds of the Historycal Roots team visited Perth (in Scotland, not Australia!) with the intention of visiting Scone Palace for an exhibition about Dido Elizabeth Belle. After a fascinating afternoon at Scone, the following day we found ourselves with time on our hands in Perth and decided on the spur of the moment to visit the Museum of the Black Watch Regiment. At the door we were greeted in friendly fashion and asked if we had any particular reason for visiting. We said that we were especially interested in any evidence of black soldiers having served in the Regiment during World War One (a project we were working on at the time). The gentleman thought for a moment and said he regretted he couldn’t think of anything but perhaps we would like to meet George?
‘George’ turned out to be George Rose who served at the Battle of Waterloo.
Up to that point I don’t think it had ever occurred to us that there might have been black soldiers at Waterloo but indeed there were and they were in the thick of the action too. George Rose was one, but there were others.
The battle was, as already noted, a very close run thing and there were heavy losses on both sides. The Duke also commented ‘believe me, nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won: the bravery of my troops hitherto saved me from the greater evil.’
In 2018 we attended a What’s Happening in Black British History event in Huddersfield where we heard a fascinating talk by John Ellis about the black presence in the British Army in the 18th and 19th centuries. John’s talk reminded us of our ‘meeting’ with George Rose and added a huge amount of information about other men we had been unaware of.
These threads came together for us recently when John contacted and offered to write a piece for Historycal Roots. We were thrilled! As we approach the 205th anniversary of the battle on 18th June there could be no better time to introduce you to the story of James Goodwin, a black soldier at Waterloo. You can find John’s article here: http://historycalroots.com/trumpet-major-james-goodwin-a-black-hero-of-the-battle-of-waterloo
Many years ago, shortly after I began researching British Black History, I paid a visit to Harewood House, the stately home built by the Lascelles family (Earls of Harewood) near Leeds in Yorkshire. Knowing that the family had owned a plantation in Barbados, and that they had connections with the East India Company, I wanted to find out if any servants of African or Asian ancestry had been employed at Harewood House during the 18th or early 19th centuries.
Harewood is often referred to as “The Treasure House of Yorkshire”. The wealth that financed its building came from an immense West India fortune created by Henry Lascelles (1690-1753) whose net assets at death probably totalled over £50 million in today’s money. As historian Simon D. Smith explains, “Henry earned his fortune primarily through unscrupulous exploitation of his positions as Barbadian customs collector (1715-33) and government-appointed contractor to supply troops stationed in the Caribbean with provisions during the Wars of Jenkins’ Ear (1739-42) and Austrian Succession (1742-8). He also used his skills as a merchant to establish a London commission house, importing sugar for sale to the city’s refiners. Profits from these activities were invested in English land, London securities, and loans to West India planters.” [1] Henry participated in the slave trade, setting up a syndicate investing £41,200 (approx. £4.5 million) in slaving between 1736 and 1744 and bought a plantation in Barbados, although this was sold off a few years after his death. In 1742, Henry Lascelles became a director of the East India Company. A very astute businessman, Henry became one of the richest men in England. He killed himself in 1753 by slashing the veins in his arms.[2]
Henry’s eldest son, Daniel, inherited the London business while his second son, Edwin, was educated to be an aristocrat (Cambridge University, followed by a “Grand Tour” of Europe) and settled on the land bought by Henry at Harewood.
Construction of the house began in 1759 and was completed in 1771. It was designed by John Carr and Robert Adam, lavishly decorated and filled with the finest Chippendale furniture, works of art by grand masters, exquisite china, enormous fine carpets and hundreds of leather bound books. Edwin’s younger brother, another Henry, became a captain for the East India Company. In command of a ship named York, he made three voyages to Canton in China. It is unknown whether he brought back the spectacular Chinese wallpaper and other exotic Eastern treasures which eventually further enhanced Harewood House.
The East Bedroom, Harewood House
One of the main activities of the London business house (known as Lascelles and Maxwell) was to provide loans and mortgages to West Indian planters. When financial problems began to hit West Indian sugar producers in the second half of the 18th century, Edwin Lascelles “suddenly acquired an immense portfolio of West Indian property as planters began defaulting on loans and surrendering plantations to their creditors.” In just 14 years between 1773 and 1787, he took possession of more than 27,000 acres and 2,947 enslaved workers, worth £293,000 (about £28.3 million). This total included 22 working plantations on the islands of Barbados, Grenada, Jamaica, and Tobago.
Edward Lascelles inherited Harewood House and the family fortune from his cousin Edwin, who died childless in 1795. In 1812 he was created Viscount Lascelles, Earl of Harewood, and thus a gentry family from Northallerton in Yorkshire entered the higher ranks of Britain’s aristocracy.
“After 1788, the owners of Harewood steadily reduced their interests in the Caribbean. By the time of Emancipation (1833), however, the Lascelles family still owned six estates in Barbados and Jamaica, consisting of 3,264 acres and 1,277 slaves. Under the terms of the Parliamentary scheme to compensate planters for freed slaves, the 2nd Earl of Harewood received £23,309 in 1835-6 (approximately £1.9 million).”[3]
(photo: Gunnar Larsson)
At the time I visited Harewood, a watercolour of a Barbados plantation great-house was on display, and on the wall of one of the outbuildings – perhaps in the stables – there was a timeline of family history including the fact that Henry Lascelles had been customs collector in Barbados, and that the family had been plantation owners. On my visit, I thought I might discover a painting of some long-dead grandee which included an African or Asian servant in the corner or the background that might indicate their former employment in the house. On this I was to be disappointed.[4]
At closing time, just as I was leaving, I saw an elderly house-guide sitting by the door. I asked him if he knew whether there had ever been any Black servants at Harewood and I was amazed at his reply. “Oh aye! – I remember Bertie Robinson. He was a footman here when I were young.” I asked if he could remember anything about Bertie. “In an evening he used to walk down to the village pub carrying a silver topped cane and he was in love with the cook at the vicarage – but she died.”
I asked what happened to Bertie. “Oh, he put his hand in t’purse and was sent back to Barbados.” I think the assumption was that Bertie had been gambling and run up debts and that was the reason he stole.
This mysterious Bertie caught my imagination and I tried to find out more about him. Several years later, I rang Harewood House Trust and said that I was looking for pictures or information about him. I was referred to a gentleman named Gerald Twinn (an ex-employee who still lived in the village in retirement) who was known to have many photographs of Harewood and the staff who used to work there.
Mr. Twinn invited me to visit. He showed me his fantastic collection of photographs which included not only servants, but also members of the Lascelles family. There was one of his father who had been a coachman, driving members of the family in a beautiful open carriage. Among the collection, there was a photo of Bertie dressed in his footman’s uniform, standing on the famous Harewood Terrace.[5] Mr. Twinn gave me a copy of the photo and permission to use it in any way I liked in the future.
(Diasporian Stories Research Group)
In 2002 our Diasporian Stories Research Group[6] was invited to work with staff at Abbey House Museum to expand their display on Victorian Leeds by looking into the wider context of the British Empire, struggles against slavery, colonial trade and migration. We told them about Bertie. A short while later, Museum Curator, Kitty Ross, got in touch with us to say that in their Christmas card collection, they had discovered a card sent by Bertie in 1905, which included his photo.
(Leeds Museums & Galleries)
More of Bertie’s story gradually emerged out of the mists of time. Terry Suthers, former Director of Harewood House Trust, discovered entries for “Bertie” on the census in both 1901 and 1911. From this we learned that Bertie’s given name was actually George and that he had been born in 1881 in St. Vincent, not Barbados. His route to working at Harewood thus became even more obscure.
A third photo of Bertie was found at Harewood which shows what a handsome young man he was. No wonder the cook at the vicarage was attracted to him. This photo, taken in London by the Jubilee Photo Company of 1 Buckingham Palace Road, together with a little information about Bertie, was featured in an exhibition at Harewood in 2004.[7]
(Harewood House Trust)
While working for the Lascelles family, Bertie must have waited on many prominent people – politicians, aristocrats and royalty – not only at Harewood, but also in the Lascelles’ townhouse at 13 Upper Belgrave Street, London, SW1. In 1921 yet another Henry Lascelles (later 6th Earl of Harewood) proposed to Princess Mary – the only daughter of the king – and was accepted. They were married on 28 February, 1922. It is not unreasonable to suppose that Bertie met the princess before or after their marriage.
Why Bertie stole and what happened to him remained a mystery until recently. In 2016 while researching online, I came across a reference to a letter written in 1924 by Lady Constance Wenlock, (née Lascelles, sister of Henry, 5th Earl) which mentioned a ‘Blackamoor’ at Harewood. My friend, Dr. Joan Kemp, kindly looked at the original and transcribed notes for me. The letter reveals why Bertie, after giving a quarter of a century of honest service to the Lascelles family, suddenly committed such an uncharacteristic act.
Joan explains the background to the letter – “On 6 January, 1924, Lady Wenlock is writing to her daughter. Amongst a lot of other things she mentions that she has been reading The Diary of Lady Anne Clifford, edited by Vita Sackville West, who includes a lengthy introduction. The details of Lady Anne’s household [in the early 17th century] seem to fascinate Lady Wenlock, who comments on the different tables at meals, according to the level of the retainers.” Joan then quotes directly from the letter:
“There is the Laundrymaid’s table which includes the ladies’ maids and there are delightful old world names Penelope, Judith, Prudence, Faith and ‘Grace Robinson a Blackamoor’…..In the kitchen and scullery table is included ‘John Morocko a Blackamoor’. I wonder if the negroes were a married couple?
“Do you remember the ‘Blackamoor’ at Harewood, the West Indian ‘boy’ who has been a sort of extra footman so many years there? He got into trouble last year. He stole a £50 note and was so silly as to take it to cash at a shop close by Upper Belgrave Street. Henry [i.e. the 5th Earl of Harewood] missed the note from a drawer in his writing table and informed the police and stopped it at the bank but the shop hearing about it reported that a black man had brought it for cash. He then confessed and gave back about £20 that he had not yet spent.
“Henry said that he would give him 24 hours to get away out of the country before he informed the police that the note had been found. So he has disappeared. Henry says he could not have believed it if the man had not himself confessed, and thought his folly pitiable, being conspicuous as a black man, to suppose he could take a £50 note like that without being found out. It seems that in all these years there has never been the slightest suspicion of his honesty and in his odd way Henry was fond of the ‘Boy’ and always insisted that he was not to be unfairly ‘put upon’ by the white servants. He had the offer of going back to the West Indies but declared himself perfectly happy and had no wish to go back. Henry had supposed that perhaps he might wish to go back some day to have a wife of his own species. Now it seems that the motive for the theft was that ‘He had got into trouble with a young lady, and there was a baby that he ought to provide for!’ It was not gambling as one would have supposed likeliest.”
Bertie must have been desperate. Why hadn’t he just explained his situation to Lord Harewood and asked for assistance and permission to marry? Someone “in service” was usually accommodated in the same house as the family they worked for. On getting married they would have to leave their job, unless (like a number of the servants in Downton Abbey) they were allowed to live-out and had a cottage provided for them on the estate.
Another letter from Lady Wenlock to her daughter gives a pretty clear indication why Bertie didn’t ask for help – if her views on inter-racial marriage were shared by her brother and his family. Joan continues, “On 29 April, 1924, Lady Wenlock wrote that she had been reading Tagore…She comments on Hindus, racial issues, divided families such as Catholic/Protestant, etc. and continues, ‘I find it interesting but it confirms the conviction that the difference between East and West is unbridgeable….I feel very strongly against any intermarrying of different coloured races. The thought of any Negro intermixing is simply disgusting’.”
In the 1920s scientific racism held sway and the eugenics movement held a powerful influence on public thinking. Francis Galton, a cousin of Charles Darwin, had coined the term “eugenics” in 1883 in his book Inquiries into the Human Faculty and Development. His aim was to propose a way to “give to the more suitable races…a better chance of prevailing speedily over the less suitable.” In 1923, people of all classes really believed that white people were superior to people of colour. Like Lady Wenlock, some even thought that people with pale skin were a different “species” to those whose skins were darker.[8]
Lady Wenlock says that Bertie disappeared. What happened to him, and his child? Did he really leave the country, or did he simply move to another part of London or Britain where he wouldn’t be found? Did he marry his partner and live happily ever after? We may never know. As George Robinson is a very common name, he will be difficult to track down.
It would be truly wonderful if someone, reading his story, realised that George was their ancestor, and could fill us in with the details of the rest of his life.
[4] As far as I can discover, no-one has yet found evidence of Black household servants at Harewood, or at the Lascelles’ London town-house, in the 18th or early 19th centuries.
[6] Diasporian Stories Research Group was founded c.1994 when history teacher, Allison Edwards, inspired a group of interested individuals to join together to start researching Black History in Leeds and the surrounding area.
[7]Below Stairs: Harewood’s Hidden Collections was on display from 17 March – 14 November 2004.
[8] For a history of how power has shaped the idea of race, and information about the current upsurge of scientific racism, see Superior: The Return of Race Science by Angela Saini, 4th Estate, 2019.
We have been aware of the story of Barclay and Trudy Patoir for some time but a recent BBC radio programme, featuring interviews with the couple and their children, is very moving. Barclay Patoir came to England in 1941 to work as an engineer. His story demonstrates that people from the colonies helped the War effort in many ways, not just by serving in the Forces. But above all this is story of love in the face of racial prejudice, a love that endured for over seventy years.
Not sure how long the programme will be available but, hopefully, you will be able to listen to it here:
12th May is International Nurses Day. This is something we should celebrate every year but this year, with the corona virus making its malign presence felt across the globe, it feels especially significant. The current pandemic has shown that a disease like covid-19 respects no borders and impacts all ethnicities (although there is emerging evidence that it impacts some more than others, black men, for instance, are far more likely to die of covid-19 than their white counterparts). The shocking death toll among our nurses, doctors and carers illustrates in stark fashion that NHS workers literally put their own lives on the line to care for their patients. We owe them all a debt of gratitude.
What the roll call of NHS staff who have lost their lives has shown is the extent to which the NHS still owes its very existence to staff who were born or whose origins were outside the UK. Currently 21% of staff in front line roles in the NHS are from ethnic minorities although they represent only 14% of the overall population.
While we were at the unveiling of the plaque honouring Daphne we were introduced to the story of Stella Benjamin and her friend Joyce Pollydore who came to England in 1946 as trainee nurses.
Of course there were many more black nurses in the UK before the NHS existed. Mary Seacole is the best known but there were others and the historian, Stephen Bourne has done work identifying some of them, people like Annie Brewster who worked at the London Hospital in Whitechapel from 1881 until her death in 1902.
So, on this International Nurses Day, we bring you the story of four more nurses who came from the Caribbean and devoted years of service to the NHS.
All of these nurses were born in the colony of British Guiana (now the proudly independent nation of Guyana), it would be equally possible to write about nurses from Barbados, Jamaica, Nigeria or many other countries in the world. The reason we focus on Guyana is simply that we have contacts in the Association of Guyanese Nurses and Allied Professions (AGNAP) and when they got wind of our intention to write this article people came forward, eager to share their experiences. Throughout its existence the NHS has relied on nurses from across the globe and these few stories must stand as a proxy for all the other equally deserving but as yet untold histories.
Alift Allman was born in 1934. She went to the top girls’ school in Georgetown but, when the time came to leave, she realised that there were only two career options open to her, nursing or teaching. She had several cousins who were nurses and decided to follow that path. She trained in Guiana for three years and then did an additional year in midwifery. She then worked in the Georgetown Public Hospital and the separate TB clinic before the UK Government came calling with what Alift described as “an aggressive recruitment campaign, handing out literature and employing agents to scour the country for recruits.”
After nine years in the profession she left for England where, in spite of being an experienced nurse and midwife, she was obliged to retrain for a year in nursing at Harold Wood hospital in Essex and then a year in midwifery in Manchester. The Manchester area is where she chose to settle.
Alift worked in nursing for a total of an astonishing 59 years, only ‘retiring’ in 2016. In addition to many years in NHS hospitals she worked in private hospitals, in company environments in the field of occupational health (for companies such as ICI, Rank Hovis McDougall and Gallaghers) and in nursing homes. She also went to prison … working as a midwife at HMP Styal!
She made her home in Macclesfield and says they were the first black family to move there. She experienced many examples of racism and bigotry both in the community and in the working environment. As just one, early, example, she was first in her nursing exams in Essex but was asked not to accept the award as she “was not the preferred person.” She agreed to step aside. Inevitably the “preferred person” was white. Alift has come to realise that the term ‘equal opportunities’ is a hollow one, “there is always a reason not to give a job to a black person.”
Alift has contributed to her community in so many ways, as a voluntary worker, as a school governor (for 25 years), and as an elected councillor (she was first elected in 2001 and has been Mayor of Macclesfield twice). She is still on the council at the age of 86 and, perhaps inevitably, is currently the only non-white member.
Alift was awarded the MBE in 2016 for services to the community In Macclesfield.
Joycelyn (Joy) Abrams was born in the Kingston area of Georgetown. From the local primary school she transferred at twelve to the Tutorial High School. Her family always encouraged her to be caring and compassionate and so, although her father would have liked her to be a doctor, she chose nursing as a career. The uniform looked smart too!
She trained for two and a half years at Georgetown hospital. Unfortunately a crisis in her personal life meant that she didn’t complete the course. The British Government offered a way out as they were recruiting nurses for the NHS at the time and so Joy jumped at the chance to work in England, arriving in February 1965.
She started her training in June at Stepping Hill hospital in Stockport and was faced with having to do the full three year course as she hadn’t completed the course in Guiana. Joy felt that “Stockport wasn’t ready for black people” and she recalls patients telling her to “get your dirty black hands off me.”
It wasn’t just the patients who were prejudiced. Her tutor couldn’t believe how well Joy was doing in her exams and asked the two (white) girls she shared a room with to spy on her. Aware of what was going on, Joy waited until the other girls were asleep and went to study in the toilet. The tutor was even more puzzled by reports from her spies that no, Joy didn’t spend any time studying! In spite of 2 a.m. study sessions in the toilets (or maybe because of them) Joy won two first prizes (one jointly with a white nurse) at the end of the course. At the presentations event the hospital refused to call her up twice “because the Mayor would be there” and so she was only called up to receive the joint prize. She was so incensed that she never cashed in the prize, a book token, and still has it to this day.
While many nurses I have spoken to chose to go into midwifery, Joy instead did a post-graduate course in casualty (what we would now call A&E). This must be one of the most challenging roles a nurse can do and, starting out as a Junior Staff Nurse, she soon became a Senior Staff Nurse and then Sister.
Like many Guyanese nurses, Joy returned to support the, now independent, country of her birth, working in the A&E department of Georgetown hospital for two years.
Back in the UK, Joy moved south and worked in Sutton for many years both within the NHS and in the private sector. She worked for a time for the local authority and also in private nursing homes as a Sister. She worked in industry and was a nursing Sister for a company called Bailey Meters (among others) in Croydon. She also did a course in psychiatric nursing at the Queen Elizabeth hospital in Welwyn Garden City, putting her qualification to good use on the psychiatric ward of St Helier hospital in Sutton – another very challenging role!
Since she retired in 2003, Joy has continued to work in her community, particularly with the elderly, something that reflects the values instilled in her by her parents back home. Joy’s husband, who was listening to our call in the background, volunteered that Joy is “a very caring person, always thinking of others.”
Although she experienced much prejudice, Joy was keen to stress when we spoke that she met many wonderful people. “I enjoyed my nursing a lot, if I had my life over again I would do the same.”
Maria Walker was born in Georgetown, British Guiana in 1944. She first came to the UK in 1960. She remembers her departure vividly “six of my classmates rode their bicycles twenty five miles to the airport to bid me farewell. My dear father, aunts and other friends were among the airport party.”
Maria completed her education at the Mary Datchelor Girls’ Grammar School in Camberwell, London, and, when she left, decided on a career in nursing. Maria started at Lambeth hospital which has since amalgamated with St Thomas’ but she wanted to move away from London and selected Stobhill Hospital in Glasgow for her midwifery training. In spite of the unfamiliar accent Maria enjoyed her time in Scotland, soon learning phrases such as ‘wee hen’(meaning ‘a small woman’).
“Delivering babies in the Gorbals was a life experience as home deliveries were the norm then. After delivery, dad would spend his last shilling to buy a packet of biscuits in appreciation of the hours spent in the safe delivery of his child. I appreciated the effort of the Glasgow City Council for the management of the safety for all staff during the night duty calls to deliver babies.”
Later on, Maria made a visit to Aberdeen arranged by the British Council. She fell in love with the area despite it having a very chilly climate and decided to return to pursue the Health Visitor’s course there. She was placed at Bucksburn, a charming place on the outskirts of the city.
After this Maria continued her tour of the Scottish Highlands by going to Braemar to understudy a Health Visitor and gain experience of the triple duties the role involved. In remote areas such as this the Health Visitor had to combine the role of nurse (including school nurse), midwife and health visitor.
In 1972 Maria returned to the newly independent country of Guyana in response to a Government request: “I felt that I had by now given service to the UK and should repay a debt to the country of my birth by working in the delivery of health services there. However within seven months, wedding bells rang.”
Maria returned to the UK in 1976. to pursue further studies and once again worked for the NHS. Her husband and sons followed later.
Maria next worked for Hackney, then Greenwich Health Authority and for Bromley as a community practice teacher in Health Visiting until she retired in 2004.
Since retirement Maria has continued to work actively in organisations such as AGNAP and The Pineapple Club which is aimed primarily but not exclusively at the retired African Caribbean community. Maria is one of the original founders of this South London club. This long running club is highly regarded, providing a relaxed fun environment for those who use it, reducing isolation and loneliness and enabling the formation of new friendships. The club organises travel abroad for the less abled.
More recently, Maria has co-authored a book about her late father and his two brothers who served as solders in World War One. It is entitled “The Walker Brothers and Their Legacy ” (you can buy a copy through this site or on Amazon). She comments that “one of the things I have learnt from English culture is the preservation of items handed down. My father’s and uncles’ medals and commendations from King George V were carefully preserved by the elders of my family and these were of immense help in writing my book.”
Lynette Richards was born in Georgetown in 1938. She excelled at school and as she was preparing to leave the Tutorial High School her head teacher suggested three career options to her, nursing, teaching or the civil service. Lynette said that she wanted to do nursing in Guyana but the waiting list was long and so she decided to work as a civil servant and obtained a post with the Ministry of Health at the Georgetown Hospital as a secretary to the Radiographer.
But her ambition to go into nursing remained strong and an opportunity soon came up. The British Government advertised in the Caribbean for nurses to train and work in the fledgling National Health Service. Recruits would be paid during their training but would have to pay their own fare to ‘the Mother Country’, £100, over £2,000 at today’s prices. Lynette saved hard and in 1959 she and her half-sister boarded a ship bound for Plymouth, England.
Lynette didn’t intend to stay in England permanently, “my main aim was to become a midwife, my father’s dream. I wanted to qualify as a nurse-midwife and return home after five years.”
Lynette (on the left) on her graduation day
Lynette completed her initial training in Taunton in 1962 (she was awarded the prize for the best practical nurse of the year) and then went to Cheltenham and to Birmingham to train as a midwife in the hospital and the community. “On successfully completing my formal training I returned home to Guyana to see my parents and if possible to work there. There were some political problems at the time and my father advised me to return to the UK and come back later.”
But the best laid plans don’t always come to fruition and “on my return, I got married and my daughter was born the following year.” Lynette remained in England and enjoyed a successful career in the NHS.
She progressed quickly, working as a district midwife; training as a clinical teacher to student midwives in the community, and as a Nursing Officer responsible for all antenatal and gynaecology services and staff at the Greenwich District Hospital. She went on to work as the Senior Nursing Officer, in charge of three hospitals, the Weir, the South London Hospital for Women, and the St George’s maternity unit.
Not long after this she was asked to apply for the post of Divisional Nursing officer, the top Midwifery post in the Wandsworth Health Authority. She got the job. She then became the adviser on midwifery services to the health authority and supervisor of all midwives working in Wandsworth in 1979.
Later Lynette was also appointed as a director for Maternity Alliance, UK, an organisation which advised the UK government’s select committee on midwifery services and care. In 1989 she became chairman for the association of supervisors of midwives for the south-east region of the UK. She was also the first nurse-midwife to be appointed to the role of general manager responsible for medical, nursing, clerical and technical staff. In so doing, she was able to introduce effective care for all general, midwifery and all children services.
After a successful career, Lynette took early retirement in 1992 but has continued to serve the community in many different ways. She was one of the founder members and chairman of the Association of Guyanese Nurses and Allied Professionals (AGNAP) that was formed in the UK in 1989. For over thirty years the Association has done much to improve the provision of healthcare services in Guyana.
In 1999 the Department of Health appointed her to represent the UK as a member of a committee of experts on adoption and healthcare services in Strasburg. Almost simultaneously she was appointed as Director for the Commonwealth Society for the Deaf (now Soundseekers).
Lynette is still very active in a wide range of initiatives and, even in her eighties, continues to provide inspirational leadership to her community in the UK and Guyana.
Lynette (on the right) and Maria
The contribution these ladies have made is quite literally incalculable. Speaking to them has been a humbling experience. And, the thing is, their stories are not even the tip of the iceberg, they are not even the tip of the tip, there are thousands more waiting to be told.
We make our own contribution to the VE (Victory in Europe) anniversary celebrations by adding a new page to the Windrush Generation section of this site.
Alford Gardner was on the Empire Windrush when she docked at Tilbury in June 1948 but he had also served in the Royal Air Force during World War Two.
Alford (right) with his friend Dennis Reid
The page has been written by Audrey Dewjee and is a revised version of an article she first wrote over two years ago. Audrey has updated it following recent conversations she has had with Alford who is still enjoying life to the full at the age of 94.
When does an ‘ordinary’ life become ‘extraordinary’?
Travelling over 4,500 miles from a Caribbean island to serve your king and “Mother Country” in the Second World War is not bad for starters.
Overcoming racism to make a new life for yourself in a land distant from your birth is a good way of continuing the story.
Marrying and bringing up a family of four children, holding down a job, paying your taxes for 38 years sounds good too.
Charlie Dawkins’ life was all these things and much more.
Although his story is not unique, it is well worth remembering. It also shines a light on the little-known story of the 4,000 West Indian recruits who trained at RAF Hunmanby Moor, Filey, in 1944.
Charlie lived a relatively quiet but very worthwhile life. He was much loved by his wife and children. He passed good old fashioned values on to the next generation. He instilled in them good Christian principles, such as honesty, integrity and self-discipline. He was kind and thoughtful, well-informed and wise beyond his years and the limited educational opportunities that were open to him.
Charlie Dawkins was indeed a very special person. You can read an article about him by Audrey Dewjee on a new page in the ‘Windrush Generation’ section of this site: http://historycalroots.com/charles-austin-dawkins
We have recently added several new pages to the Equiano section of this site. They tell the story of the German and Leeds versions of Equiano’s Interesting Narrative and there is also a page rounding up our work with the Heritage Lottery Funded project that ran throughout 2019. That project revealed fascinating new insights into Equiano’s life, helped raise his profile and brought him to the notice of a host of new fans.
We are so lucky that our friend, Audrey Dewjee, a historian based in Yorkshire, has known Nadia Cattouse for many years and has persuaded Nadia to allow an article to be published about her. Nadia’s story is a fascinating one but, in truth, the article we have published cannot fully do justice to someone who has contributed so much in so many ways. Nadia deserves a full account of her life and perhaps one day someone will write the book she so obviously merits!
Please follow the link and read the story of a truly impressive woman.
The internet is a wonderful thing, where would we be without it? So much knowledge at our fingertips! Unfortunately the internet is also great for propagating fake history and once a false seed has been planted it spreads like wildfire (apologies for the mixed metaphor) and trying to correct the record feels a bit like playing that whack-a-mole game, you may whack one fake story but they keep popping up.
Emma Clarke, ‘the first black female footballer’ is a case in point. Our interest started on Tuesday 30th October 2018 when we attended an event at a prestigious London venue. It was a good event and everyone who attended must have left convinced that Emma Clarke, a young girl from Liverpool, was the first black female footballer. Stuart Gibbs, one of the speakers at the event, was introduced as the person who had uncovered Emma’s story. Press coverage of the event (and there was plenty) explained that ‘Gibbs uncovered articles referring to “a coloured lady of Dutch build” in goal, and “the fleet-footed dark girl on the right wing”, forming the foundations of his research.’ The article in the Telegraph went on to add that ‘Despite Gibbs’ hours of unpaid research, there is still a dearth of biographical detail.’ We were sufficiently intrigued to contact Stuart thinking that we might be able to help track down that elusive biographical detail.
Unfortunately, after considerable digging, we came to the view that Stuart’s research had taken one or two leaps in the wrong direction and the conclusions he had reached regarding Emma’s true identity were, very probably, wrong. It’s easily done, you so want to find the right person that you close your eyes to flaws in the research process.
One article we have seen states that Emma’s ‘mother, Wilhelmina, is thought to have been of black Dutch heritage.’ We have researched Emma quite carefully and have found no evidence of black heritage. Wilhelmina’s maiden name was Farmer and she, judging by census returns, was born in Liverpool in about 1853. It is true that Liverpool had a relatively large black and mixed heritage community in the 19th century but it is a leap to suggest that Wilhelmina was part of it. But there is a bigger issue.
We have copies of the birth certificate and marriage certificate of ‘Liverpool Emma’ and the marriage certificate of her parents. We have also traced her and her family in the 1881, 1891, 1901 and 1911 censuses, in almost every single case (the 1891 census is the only exception) her name is Clark without an ‘e’. But the footballer Emma is consistently referred to as Clarke with an ‘e’. So, whether Wilhelmina had black Dutch heritage or not is pretty irrelevant as there is nothing to suggest that ‘Liverpool Emma’ is the same person as ‘footballer Emma’.
It’s worth adding that Liverpool Emma came from a large working class family (she had at least 7 siblings and quite a few more if you include children who didn’t survive to adulthood). At the age of 15 she was working as a confectioner’s apprentice (1891 census) and by the 1901 census she was now a confectioner. Is it really plausible that she was able to take time off from earning her crust to travel round the country playing football and that she made her way to London for the inaugural ladies football match in March 1895?
If someone can make a case for ‘Liverpool Emma’ being black and being one and the same as Emma Clarke the footballer then fine, but it needs to be based on evidence rather than wishful thinking. The evidence seems sadly lacking at the moment. Until that evidence is found we think ‘Liverpool Emma’ needs to be discounted as the first black female footballer.
Meanwhile in London, another candidate has been identified as Emma Clarke the footballer. This Emma hailed from Plumstead in south London. Her (maternal) grandfather served in the British Army and spent some time in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) where Emma’s mother, Caroline, was born. There is no indication that Caroline’s parents were anything other than white but the suggestion is that Caroline may have been the result of an extra marital ‘dalliance’. We would be happy to see convincing evidence to support this.
The best article about ‘Plumstead Emma’ that we have seen can be found here:
A blue plaque was recently unveiled in London celebrating her as the first black female footballer. One thing we can say is that at least her name is spelt right and this alone means she is a more plausible candidate to be the ‘real’ Emma Clarke, pioneering footballer!
What Stuart Gibbs’ research has done is identify the probable existence of a ‘coloured’ lady who played football in 1895, further research will hopefully confirm beyond doubt who she was.
