UCL BLOOMSBURY PROJECT

History

It was a charity established in August 1860 in order to help the “less degraded class of penitent fallen women”, according to an early flyer

Only its Matron was paid; all other money raised went directly to the support of the women and (for a strictly limited time) their illegitimate children (William Blanchard Jerrold, Signals of Distress, 1863)

According to an advertisement in 1881, “Special efforts are made on behalf of mothers with their first infants, who are really the most hopeful class of the fallen, and are generally greatly to be pitied” (The Times, 22 February 1881)

Its Treasurer was Henry Thompson and its Secretary William Hornibrook, of 17 Bloomsbury Street, throughout the 1880s and 1890s, according to its advertisements in The Times

William Hornibrook had been its Secretary from its early years, according to Sampson Low’s The Charities of London in 1861

By 1892, it had apparently admitted a total of 3216 women during its years of operation, and made a Christmas Appeal in The Times: “The committee have now not a pound in hand, the pressure during the year having been so great” (The Times, 26 December 1892)

In one of its first years, it admitted a total of 73 women and girls, 50 of whom had been in domestic services, while many others were dressmakers, milliners, or needlewomen; 10 of them were under 16 years old (William Blanchard Jerrold, Signals of Distress, 1863)

Of these, “Twenty-six were placed in situations, 11 were restored to their friends, 1 was sent out as an emigrant, 11 left of their own accord, 7 were placed in hospitals and other institutions, 3 were dismissed, 1 was placed in business and was since dead, 13 remain in the Home” (William Blanchard Jerrold, Signals of Distress, 1863)

Infanticide in London was then on the rise, with 177 cases reported in 1857 and 272 in 1860; Jerrold also noted the difficulty for mothers of getting enough evidence to recover legal compensation from the fathers of their children (William Blanchard Jerrold, Signals of Distress, 1863)

Even if such compensation could be claimed, it was a maximum of 2s 6d per week – half of what it cost to look after a baby

The Home had a fund to pay for this for a short time, although not for long; the mothers had to learn to work “for the sake of the dear little one” (William Blanchard Jerrold, Signals of Distress, 1863)

The Home apparently endeavoured to be pleasant rather than punitive; the women’s time was their own after 5pm each day, the furnishings comfortable, and the food “a good bourgeois table of roast and boiled”; all in all, “a home of comfort such as they may some day keep over their own heads, if they will be industrious and well conducted” (William Blanchard Jerrold, Signals of Distress, 1863)

However, not all the residents appreciated these home comforts sufficiently; in 1878 two inhabitants, Mary Jane Milner and Elizabeth Evans, from Torquay and Cardiff respectively, got drunk and created a disturbance outside the home on a Friday – having been refused permission to go out on the Thursday and disobeyed by going out all night, they were not allowed back in, and they were trying to break in the door and windows, while “a large mob had assembled in the square” (Daily Telegraph, 14 October 1878; A/FWA/C/D23/1, London Metropolitan Archives)

The Homes were investigated by the Charity Organisation Society, not particularly because of problems with the behaviour of its inmates, but more because “[t]he chances for committing a fraud in a hospital, however badly managed, must be infinitely less than those in institutions like the ‘Home of Hope’, which are of a semi-religious and philanthropic character, and are therefore largely ruled by sentiment rather than by business considerations” (Henry Burdett to Charles Loch, 6 January 1885; A/FWA/C/D23/1, London Metropolitan Archives)

Their investigations had begun early in the institution’s history, with a visit in 1873 by H. L. Eason apparently giving no cause for concern: “The place seemed to have the appearance of a genuine affair,” he wrote (Charity Organisation Society report by H. L. Eason, 22 March 1873; A/FWA/C/D23/1, London Metropolitan Archives)

It was the financial side of the Homes which apparently first caused problems; in 1879 the Charity Organisation Society investigated the accounts for 1874–1877 and found some discrepancies, which were said to be a result of “muddle” rather than fraud, although non-existent subscriptions had been entered in the reports for 1874 and 1875 “to give a flourishing appearance to the Charity and to get his own (the Secretary’s) and the Matron’s Salaries paid”(Charity Organisation Society report by Charles Loch, 13 August 1879, A/FWA/C/D23/1, London Metropolitan Archives)

There had also been a split in the committee in 1877 which led to several resignations, and at the same time there were rumours of potentially shocking revelations from former matrons (Charity Organisation Society report by Charles Loch, 13 August 1879, A/FWA/C/D23/1, London Metropolitan Archives)

Loch concluded his report, however, by saying that “In the opinion of this Society the Homes are managed with good faith. The principles observed are strictly evangelical; and the methods employed do not recommend themselves to all” (Charity Organisation Society report by Charles Loch, 13 August 1879, A/FWA/C/D23/1, London Metropolitan Archives)

The financial muddles were blamed on the Secretary, William Hornibrook; he also worked for the North London Consumption Hospital, Mount Vernon, Hampstead, but in 1884 he was pensioned off from this post because of his poor book-keeping, at £20 pa, with one year’s salary (£300) as a gratuity, and £200 raised for him by a collection (A/FWA/C/D23/1, London Metropolitan Archives)

Hornibrook remained Secretary of the Homes of Hope, apparently not having improved his book-keeping skills; in 1885 Burdett wrote to Loch that the latter’s management was “a grave scandal” and that although they failed to prove he had been fraudulent, he had caused “a most disgraceful state of muddle” (Henry Burdett to Charles Loch, 6 January 1885; A/FWA/C/D23/1, London Metropolitan Archives)

In 1890 there was some progress, as the more recent accounts had actually been properly audited, and a Charity Organisation Society visit had left the visitor “on the whole favourably impressed with the domestic management” (Charity Organisation Society report, 27 February 1890; A/FWA/C/D23/2, London Metropolitan Archives)

But the report notes that “[t]here would still, however, seem to be room for improvement in one or two particulars. The unfallen girls are not completely separated from the fallen, and almost absolute power is entrusted to MR Hornibrooks, the Secretary. In the opinion of the Charity Organisation Society a Committee of ladies is essential to the proper working of an institution of this character” (Charity Organisation Society report, 27 February 1890; A/FWA/C/D23/2, London Metropolitan Archives)

The Charity Organisation Society’s investigation focused more and more on Hornibrook himself, who was shamelessly advertising his 21 years of service as Secretary to the North London Consumption Hospital as part of the publicity material for his new venture, the Medical Transfer and Professional Agency, run from his “sumptuously furnished” house at 17 Bloomsbury Street (flyer for the Medical Transfer and Professional Agency, annotated with notes by Charles Carthew, 17 March 1890; A/FWA/C/D23/002, London Metropolitan Archives)

A further report by the Charity Organisation Society noted that Hornibrook was a Director of a certain Building Society (the Town and Country Permanent Benefit Building Society, 18 Bloomsbury Street), which held £500 of the Medical Transfer and Professional Agency’s money; it found “the deposit of monies belonging to the Charity with a Building Society of which the Secretary is a director a financial arrangement altogether opposed to its proper interests as a public Institution” (Charity Organisation Society report, 10 April 1890; A/FWA/C/D23/002, London Metropolitan Archives)

The Home was still at 4–6 Regent Square in 1907 (The Times, 23 December 1907)

It was, however, struggling by 1909, when two advertisements appealed for the sum of £1000 to pay off debts and carry out urgent repairs (The Times, 5 April and 3 July, 1909); £800 was still needed in December, according to the Christmas Appeal (The Times, 23 December 1909)

The latest advertisement in The Times dates from 11 December 1913, although it is still listed in Herbert Fry’s Royal Guide to the London Charities (1917)

It no longer exists

The houses in Regent Square (which form part of a terrace built in 1829) still exist and became listed buildings in 1974