By Christine Swan

During my last trip to the East End, I once again planned to visit some areas that I had previously missed. After a lifetime in teaching, the Ragged School Museum is a must.

I decided to create a dual purpose journey, and to also visit the church of St Dunstan’s and All Saints in Stepney Green. This was the church where Daniel Crudgington and Ann Deighton were married in 1844.

I walked along the Commercial Road for my outbound journey. This near straight road was constructed early in the nineteenth century, to transport goods unloaded from the docks, rather than along the Ratcliffe Highway. I then needed to turn left to head up towards Stepney Green. As soon as I did this, the mode changed. From a wide, thunderous thoroughfare, I was immersed in quiet, residential street, with period houses and copious trees.

Beautiful old Stepney

Stepney Green lives up to its name, with plenty of grassy spaces, a City Farm and a seemingly slower pace of life. The weather was still warm and the summer heat and drought had brought an early fall of [plane leaves. A dog owner was repeatedly throwing a ball for his hound to snuffle about.

St Dunstan’s and All Saints Church

Unfortunately, the church was closed as it was Saturday, but I was still able to wander about the churchyard to look for any names that I might recognise. Sadly, I did not, but I imagined Daniel and Ann hurrying to the church. Mary Ann had been born in 1842 but baptised in 1853 and her birth year given as 1845, after her parents were married. Unfortunately, the Crudgingtons were frequently less than truthful so I can never be certain that Daniel was my great, great grandmother’s father.

It is hard to remember that this is still the heart of East London

Surrounding the church is a pretty square and this could easily be a country church. Old Stepney is still here.

I only had a short walk ahead of me to the Ragged School Museum. It has amazed me that so many of my poor ancestors were literate, and these institutions were likely the reason. Ragged Schools were run by charities and philanthropists, such as the 7th Earl of Shaftesbury. In the early part of the nineteenth century, education was not compulsory, although the wealthy invested in education their offspring. Young gentlemen would be sent to a public school to board. Young ladies would probably have had a governess to educate them in the home.

Pupil’s eye view in the Ragged School Museum

But Education was optional. Boys may have been lucky enough to gain an apprenticeship, but even that would have been an option only available to a few because factories and intensive labour was predominant in the metropolis.

The Ragged Schools perceived it to be a Christian duty to educate the poor, and some began as Sunday Schools, before offering more general instruction.

Installation recreating a photograph of a Victorian family room belonging to a poor family

The site of the Ragged School Museum in Mile End, was established by Dr Thomas Barnardo in 1877. He had opened his first school ten years earlier but the Mile End project was to become the largest in London. 1870 was a significant year because it was when the first Education Act, also known as Forster’s Act, which aimed to provide education for all children between the ages of five and twelve years. However, intention was high, but practicalities meant that it was not universally available for all. The Act required Education Boards to be set up who could set up schools, or give grants to church and charity run schools. Dr Barnardo’s Ragged School may well have been a beneficiary.

The schoolmaster’s meagre kitchen

It is hard to believe that some politicians opposed universal education of children. They viewed an education population as a reckless danger – people who can think for themselves, and better their lot?! Good heavens! If nothing else, this is recognition of the power of Education to tackle social injustice and drive mobility. Many potential trainee teachers tell me that this is the reason that they wish to train to teach. It is as true today as it was one hundred and fifty years ago.

The Ragged School Museum is a vast space, originally a warehouse, so would have provided capacity to educate around one thousand pupils, although daily attendance was around sixty percent. Such low attendance would never be tolerated today but, despite provision, education was not yet compulsory.

Nevertheless, some parents doubtless did appreciate their children having this opportunity. Charles Dickens was a supporter of Education for all but, he also recognised that schools could be cruel places too. Corporal punishment by use of a willow cane, and humiliation, such as the wearing of the dunce’s cap, were commonplace. Classes were huge by modern standards – seventy or eighty pupils in a class. Teachers would have had to manage different ages and abilities in the same class. Lessons would have focused on reading, writing , mathematics and religious instruction. Walking up the main staircase, I visualised the hoards of children going reluctantly to their class. Desks, with integral inkwells and lift-up lids, were commonplace even during my schooldays. I did not see any form of heating, but doubtless a tortoise stove would have been the coveted place to sit on a cold day, as it was in my earliest memories of primary school. Schools have a smell – wood and chalk dust, and it was here. I often find empty schools strange places, especially after dark. They are haunted by the footsteps of the thousands of children who have walked through their doors.

A cormorant on the Regent’s Canal

I refreshed myself in the basement cafe with a lovely cup of tea and a cake, and watched the birds on the Regent’s Canal outside of the window. I walked back along the Mile End Road, back to my hotel, the starting point of my circular walk. There were several points when I had considered jumping on the Tube to shorten my walk back, but the weather was fine – probably one of the last of the summer. Past the Blind Beggar pub, past the London Hospital, and past the Whitechapel Bell Foundry. Walking in the present, I am also walking through the past.

More information

The Ragged School Museum, Copperfield Road, Mile End – https://raggedschoolmuseum.org.uk/