Some years ago we bought a pine chest for our bathroom from a friend’s antique shop. It was stuffed with documents belonging to an upper working/lower middle class family from Newcastle upon Tyne. The documents covered a period from the 1930s to the 1950s. There must have been nigh-on 100 pieces and, with the current interest in house history linking to the longer-term afascination for family history, now seems a good time to share what we can learn from them.

Both self-sufficiency and ‘make do and mend’ were the order of the day for the family to which the chest belonged – especially during the war years and immediately after. One drawer contained leaflets from the early 1940s encouraging the house owners to ‘dig for victory’. One was headed ‘Bottling and Canning Fruit and Vegetables’ while another was dedicated to ‘Drying, Salting, Pickles and Chutney’. A document from the Ministry of Food’s ABC series outlined 15 different ways of preserving food while the famous Lever Brothers of Port Sunlight provided free ‘Household Hints and General Information’. Topics covered in the booklet ranged from laundry matters to first aid. Another commercial business – Hindhaugh’s Self-Raising Flour – provided the home owners with a home cooking guide which would make cooking not only ‘economical and easy’ but also ‘such good fun’.

Self-sufficiency
Self-sufficiency also seemed to stretch to activity beyond the house. The drawers contained material relating to the Cowgate Tenants’ Association including a membership card. This reveals the association’s aim as the encouragement of gardening. One method seems to have been by running shows for the benefit of the members. Another card, dated 1952, related to membership of the local allotment association and activity here was confirmed by the presence of a colourful leaflet advertising Fisons’ Fertilizers. The family also kept pigs at some point. One letter of 1947 (from the secretary of the National Small Pig Keepers’ Council) laid out the feed available for pigs under rationing and available from May of that year. According to another document, that allowance was 70 lbs per month available by presenting what was described as a 5/8th coupon. Also in one of the drawers was a copy of the Bulletin of the pig keepers’ council – again from 1947. This heralded the pigs’ ration allowance and, in direct connection with this, contained a large advert for Silcock’s pig meal.

Shopping
Unsurprisingly, shopping is represented by a number of documents. These relate, among others, to the Co-operative Wholesale Society, Jackson the Tailor and Rediffusion During the period in question, the Co-op was clearly a major player in Newcastle and District. One document, from 1937, goes into detail about the annual dividend or ‘divvy’ available to members at the end of that year. A colourful ‘Winter’s Tale’ brochure from Jackson’s flags up the latest collection of gents’ clothing. A booklet and letter from Northern Rediffusion brought back memories of the hiring of televisions which many of us undertook in the 60s and 70s. In this case only a wireless or radio was involved. During the war the family hired a box radio described as a ‘loudspeaker and simple switch’ at 1/6 (8p) a week.

Manfield’s Shoe Shop, Hardy the Furniture Store and Howard’s – a more general North-East business – also came into the family’s lives. In 1952 footwear was purchased from Manfield’s with an initial cost of £2-19-0 (almost £3) but with a discount allowed of 5/10 (56p). A number of documents from Hardy’s introduce us to the world of hire purchase – commonly known as HP or the ‘never-never’. A pay-in booklet, HP agreement and ‘friendly note’ from the manager’s office combine to tell us that the family purchased furniture worth £32-13-4 in September 1950. A deposit of £4-2-6 was put down and weekly payments of 7/6 expected until the total of £38-7-6 was received. This was all very official with the end of payment marked by an official stamp and a stamped 2d postage stamp. Howard’s was a North-East store which also allowed hire purchase and sold a variety of goods. One of its documents in the drawers shows the firm as proud to be ‘catering specially for glasses supplied under the National Insurance Scheme’.

National Insurance
A reference to the National Insurance scheme brings into the picture the massive changes to life brought about by parliamentary acts just after the Second World War with those involving the NHS and National Insurance at the top of the list. A couple of documents discovered in the chest are indicative of this. One booklet from 1948 has as its lead line:

Your new National Health Service begins on 5 July. What is it? How do you get it?

As might be expected, the booklet attempts to answer these two questions and, at the same time, reminds us of the massive breadth of the NHS when it was first introduced. ‘All medical, dental and nursing care’ was to be provided for everyone ‘rich or poor, man, woman or child’. You were at liberty to choose a doctor and to go to any dentist taking part in the arrangements. In order for this to happen, lists were put up in local post offices. An earlier document (from March of the same year) gives details of the new arrangements under the National Insurance Act of 1946. Included was information on how old age pensions were to differ from the original ones introduced at the beginning of the century.

Despite the state’s arrangements for health and old age, it is clear that folks still needed to make sure they made further provision for the future. One member of the family had joined up with the Employees Provident Fund Association. In return for regular payments he or she would eventually receive cash payments, death benefits and bonuses. There was a section in the informative booklet on arrangements should they choose to change jobs. Intriguingly there was also a large and rather grand document from 1936 purporting to give all kinds of cover to readers of the Daily Herald. Included were ‘family and accident benefits’ and burglary and housebreaking insurance. Generally the resultant hand-outs were between £200 and £500 but should man and wife die as the result of a railway accident the sum the remainder of the family was given could have risen as high as £10,000.

National Service
National Service was also a key part of family life for most of this period. It was finally abandoned in 1960 but the explanatory booklet found in the chest came from 1939. It had an introductory message from the then prime minister Neville Chamberlain and described the wide range of services to which National Service applied (which was not merely the army, navy and air force). Interestingly there were blank enrolment and application forms in the middle, a sign perhaps that there was no one in the house to which the demands of National Service applied.

Unusual booklet
Perhaps the most interesting piece of history in the chest of drawers was a colourful booklet sent to those considering joining the Palestinian police in the year immediately after the Second World War. Palestine had been under British control for some time but within a couple of years this was to end with the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948. In the centre of the booklet, dated 1946, was a completed form for the post of constable which was due to be sent to ‘the Crown Agent for the Colonies’. The applicant was an 18-year-old male who had worked as a butcher’s boy and garage mechanic but it looks like, in the end, he didn’t go through with the application.

And so we have a brief but fascinating view of urban life in the mid-20th century. Born in 1948, I grew up with a godfather who had been one of the senior civil servants responsible for introducing the NHS four months before my birth. Also I used to be able to remember the code of numbers I had to pass to the local Co-op when my mother sent me shopping. Without that we wouldn’t have been given our annual ‘divvy’. As a young adult I hired a television and paid for special clothes on hire purchase. In particular I can remember my father telling me that I would not have to do National Service. That was about the time of my 12th birthday. Thus many of the documents had some meaning for me.

If you are of my generation – or indeed an older adult of the generation represented by the documents discovered in the chest – make sure your grandchildren and great-grandchildren are aware of the life you lived. How often do we family historians regret not asking such a question of our own elderly relatives! {