Weighty tomes and slim booklets: Using Directories
W.G. Hoskins, the great pioneer of English local history, wrote in his ground breaking book, ‘Local History in England’ (1959), “Directories … give us a good start for reconstructing the kind of community which existed over a period of about a hundred years from the 1830s to the 1930s”. Admittedly, he was writing when only two of the Victorian censuses were available to use for historic investigation; modern researchers are spoiled for choice in having easy accessibility to no less than eight census returns, spanning the period 1841-1911.
Even so, directories – published lists of people’s addresses and occupations – continue to supply much useful information for family and local history researchers. Although hardly ever listing those of humble status (don’t expect your servant or labourer forebears to be mentioned), directories provide information on a more frequent basis than the census. In the nineteenth century, and right up to the decades following the Second World War, detailed directories appeared encompassing the whole country. Some national publishers (like Slater and the better-known Kelly) covered whole counties every couple of years, while other smaller local printers might concentrate on a single city or town, sometimes also including villages in the vicinity. As they were produced by competing firms, one year might see several different directories produced for a given place, and the following two or three years, nothing at all.
Whether they are weighty tomes, or slim booklets, directories provide useful, contemporary descriptions of Victorian and Edwardian parishes, towns and cities. They may give details of population and geography, agriculture and industry, schools, charities, public institutions, details of conveyances (coaches and trains) .… but most people use directories to search for people. They will not provide up-to-the-minute information; because of the delay between collecting information and publication, directories may include information that was a year or more out of date by the time the publication date was finally reached. Despite that limitation, a directory can give a flavour of a place, conveying a sense of what a town or district was like to live in at a particular time, and identifying the main property owners, naming the shopkeepers and listing the tradesmen who gave a place its unique character.
They generally listed people whom literate or reasonably well-off people might want to find – clergymen, gentry, nobility, professionals, farmers, craftsmen and tradesmen. Directories may give exact street numbers where census returns do not. The lists often appear in sections, sometimes using a threefold division into ‘Court’, ‘Commercial’ and ‘Trade’ – where Court listed private residents alphabetically, Commercial listed trade and business people alphabetically and Trade broke the commercial list down into constituent professions and trades.
Like newspapers, the best discoveries in directories often lurk in the advertisements. A local directory entry and/or advertisement is often the only surviving record of many businesses. I have found directories invaluable in researching my own particular interest – Wiltshire inns and public houses. The photographs below illustrate this. The advertisement from Astill’s Almanack of 1884 tells us a lot about the Dolphin Inn at Swindon : the landlord’s name; a twice-weekly music meeting in a ‘large new room’ which ‘has been added’; facilities for dinners and ‘bean feasts’; an excellent enclosed quoit ground and lawn adjoining; and its convenient location for visiting ‘the Works’.
John White, the landlord of the Somerset Arms (which is still on the main street at Semington) felt the urge to extol in verse some of the attractions of his hostelry, in Cochrane’s Melksham directory of 1878. He was especially keen to point out that his inn was the headquarters for meetings of the Oddfellows and the Foresters, local friendly societies.
All friendly societies had as their main purpose, the provision of assured payments to members when they were unable to work, owing to sickness. Pub landlords often filled the position of Friendly Society treasurer and often kept a special ‘club room’, which was reserved especially for meetings of the friendly society. The society’s annual feast day was usually marked by parading with banners, followed by feasting at the inn which served as its headquarters. As a bonus, John White’s poetic advertisement provides the useful additional information that “ten years I’ve been host, though I don’t make a boast.”
Robert Jago, Archivist