Edgbaston House
An early Twentieth Century centre of civic administration that witnessed some of the fieriest public meetings of 1919, revealing the differing opinions of Wellington’s establishment on how best to deal with the changing post-war world.
Background
Despite its relatively unassuming character, Edgbaston House is one of Wellington’s oldest buildings and contains features dating back to Medieval times. By the early Twentieth Century, it was an integral part of the town’s civic quarter and home to the offices of Wellington Rural District Council (which was responsible for a large area to the north and west of the town) and the long standing Dispensary charity that provided medical prescriptions for poorer residents. In addition, it housed the boardrooms of the local Board of Poor Law Guardians, the agency that managed the town’s workhouse and children’s home. The Guardians also administered the Edwardian era’s equivalent of the welfare state: out-relief — cash payments made to local residents seeking aid outside the workhouse and paid for out of the parish rates. In the wake of World War One, spending under the system doubled within a year due largely, it was claimed, to the high number of widows and children seeking relief. The workhouse itself served as a military hospital between 1916 and April 1919 and was returned in a dilapidated state, necessitating even more expenditure. Consequently, the Edgbaston House boardroom became a venue for some of the most contentious public meetings of the year, as the Guardians struggled to agree on the best way to negotiate the post-war landscape

The Majority View
For the Board of Poor Law Guardians, 1919 began as it would go on — with controversy close at hand. Practically its first major decision of the year, the appointment of a new rate collector, was greeted with incredulity by those representing the town’s returned soldiers and sailors. In the advertisement for the job, the Guardians had promised preference would be given to a wounded, discharged servicemen yet the person chosen was neither. Board member Reverend HG Downes declared the decision was ‘not consonant with the wishes of the majority of the people’ while its chair, Reverend William Nock called for the appointment to be rescinded, for which he was accused of ‘disloyalty’ by one of his colleagues. In the event the decision was upheld and in many ways set the tone for what followed.
1919 was a year increasingly defined by the rising cost of living, which the national Government sought to address by stabilising the wages of public sector workers. Temporary increases for the salaries of its ‘indoor officers’ (mostly employed at the workhouse) were recommended in July but they were not universally accepted. While welcoming a salary increase for local solicitor Robert Gwynne, the Clerk to the Board (who stood to benefit from an annual wage increase from £325 to £450 per annum), Reverend AA Turreff, Vicar of Wrockwardine, was not inclined to be so charitable to his colleagues — including the matron (who stood to gain a relatively meagre £10 ‘temporary increase’). Their war bonuses would, he thought, suffice and, seemingly in the face of reality, Turreff urged his colleagues to leave their wages where they were, as the Wellington Journal reported:

‘Those war bonuses were granted at a time when the cost of living was increasing but that cost had not increased since they were granted. This was particularly so in the case of indoor officers… the ratepayers were entitled to some consideration in matters of this description’.
As it was, the Reverend’s motion was defeated by 11 votes to 2 but it would not be the last time his actions would lead to contention around the boardroom table.
The Strictest Economy
Undeterred, Reverend Turreff and two fellow board members brought their motion to rescind the wages increases of the workhouse staff back to the Edgbaston House boardroom at the end of August. After failing once again to sway his colleagues, Turreff then turned his attention to the 80-year old Matron of the institution, Miss Thomas. With the inmates now back from Wolverhampton (where they had been transferred when the military took over the infirmary), Turreff argued the responsibilities of looking after them would be too much — despite the workhouse being less than half full. For ‘reasons of age’, he argued, she should be placed on superannuation; ‘the country had been asked to exercise the strictest of economy’ and there should be no room for sentiment. Once again, the board failed to accept Turreff’s argument and its chair, Reverend Nock, expressed his surprise that anyone would conceive of treating a member of staff who had given 50 years service, and was ‘beloved’ by the inmates, should be treated in this way. For his part, Councillor Stevenson, a local florist, said he was ‘pleased’ to see the proposed amendment fail — a remark to which Reverend Turreff took great exception. By the end of September, however, the Board was looking towards the financial estimate for 1920 with increasing alarm. Every aspect of poor relief, both inside and out of the workhouse, had increased and with a faltering economy the outlook was uncertain to say the least. While the war may have been over, dealing with its consequences on the homefront was most certainly not.
