The Characters Behind the Characters – Maud Francis Davis – Sociologist and Social Reformer
C. A. Asbrey
Maud Davis’ work caused more controversy than it should. In turn, her violent death attracted none of the attention it deserved. She was a divisive figure in her life, a dichotomy of contradictions; highly-educated but rarefied, subjective but judgemental, level-headed but injudicious, scholarly but unworldly. She was the inspiration, with many changes, for the murder victim in the fourth book in The Innocents Mysteries series, In all Innocence, and the plot which unfolded from there.
She was a woman of independent means, a sociologist, and intellectual, who worked hard to improve the lives of others. She was a member of the Anti-Sweating League (working to break up sweat-shops), a member of The Fabian’s Women’s Group, and The Women’s Industrial Council. Maud was a well-intentioned campaigner, but she lacked a fundamental grasp on the hardships of life, and the dangers in the dark corners into which she ventured. That lack of understanding may have extended to failing to grasp to the perils of stepping on toes as she investigated, but we’ll look at that later.
Maud compiled reports and studies on working conditions for the poor, and reported back to political activists who sought to bring improvements. There are many indications that while her intentions were pure, her own background was far too distant and rarefied to fully grasp the depths of the poverty on which she reported. An example of this can be found in the Black Report, on the tailoresses of Rowhedge. Maud was sent to study the women of Rowhedge, a poor fishing village in Essex. The men were often absent, away fishing for long periods of time. Their work could take the fishermen to France, Scotland, or even Norway, It was a perilous life, and men died, especially in the roaring winter seas which provided the best harvests.
While the men were away the women did piece work for the London tailors who paid rock-bottom rates. The development of the sewing machine did little to improve women’s standing in the tailoring profession. Even experienced women rarely become foremen, and those working remotely never advanced at all. A female foreman in 1901 earned 19 shillings a week, while men doing the same job brought home more than double that amount The development of the railways meant that work could be farmed out to remote areas where there was little competition to drive up wages. Rowhedge was one such town. Compare the previous earnings to a statement by a Mrs. Green who said, “wages paid to the seamstresses were abominable and the way in which they were obliged to live was fearful… They had to finish off a pair of men’s trousers for 1¾d and they had not only to fetch the work from the factory… but sometimes had it returned for being badly done. They were able to turn out about 12 pairs a day but had to find their own thread… they earned about 1/-2d a day or 5s a week assuming they worked an 8 hour day and 5 day week’. Maud reported that, “The Rowhedge women are all that women should be. Full of vigorous health and spirits, they are equally ready for work and for play… These self sufficient women are apparently excellent wives and mothers.’ However her naivety of the harsher realities of life were apparent in this statement. “‘The independent income of the women brings them a degree of consideration both from others and from themselves that educes and develops their personality, and causes each woman to become an individual interesting to herself and to others, even as her husband or her son is. In the house the woman is mistress, the man, when at home, adapting himself to her and doing the housework that she may not be interrupted in her industry. With her own earnings she is able to buy what she wants, pretty clothes for the children or for herself, a bicycle, a piano, or whatsoever else may appeal to her as affording the recreation which she takes for granted as her due, and as part of the normal routine of her life.’
Maud was simply unable to conceive of a life lived hand-to-mouth, and thought that these women were working for pocket-money. Other women working on the same report noted women working late into the night, whilst in labour, and being asked to take a little rest by their families, so it’s hard to see how Maud saw these earnings as pin money. Another woman working on the Black report posed this point to another resident of Rowhedge and got a strong response. “Pocket money! That was pocket money! To fill the kids tummies. No-one worked on the tailoring at home unless it was to fulfil a need….. they had to! If the husband lost his job – no dole – no money coming in.’ ‘Yes, my mother did tailoring, ’Cos she had to keep us going. Dad didn’t earn very much…Mum used to do coats at home for the factories…. She used to work very hard for the little she got…. To make ends meet you see’ ‘My mother did that bit of tailoring to feed us kids. She didn’t do it for a bit of pocket money, she did that to keep us.”
On top of all that, any understanding on pricing would have told Maud that a piano or bicycle was beyond the reach of a woman on piece work.
This was not the only time Maud lacked a true scientific distance, but let’s not forget that her statistical analysis did help to compile a collection of historical data on wages and prices. It also helped to correct to prevailing views of rural poverty. Her most famous work, Life in an English Village: A Study of the History and Economic Conditions of the Parish of Cosley, in Wiltshire, became notorious for all the wrong reasons. So much so, the villagers lobbied to have the paper pulled from publication.
The statistical analysis was superb, but the work included too much detail which made it easy to identify the individuals involved, as well as containing a number of pejorative statements. She describes locals as ‘rather rough‘ and a ‘dirty lot‘. Local children are described as ‘rascals‘, ‘slow’, or ‘lazy‘. Of a market gardener and his wife she notes: ‘Drank a good deal of their profits, wife got so drunk she could hardly sit in the cart. ‘Seen one day in public at Frome having glass of port – more than such people could afford,’ She describes a labourer, his wife and four children: ‘Can’t say much for them. Wife hard-working woman, but bad manager. ‘Not much of it [debt]. A poor lot, drink too much and don’t pay. Dirty lot. Inspector has been down on the once or twice – woman keeps house so dirty.” ‘Dirty children. Noted family. Have been on point of reporting parents to Officer of Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children. ‘Yet children wouldn’t be so bad with careful training. Attendance [at school] bad, they take turns to come.”Bear in mind that this was her own village. She knew these people intimately, and as a small rural area, they all knew one another too. She also made statements which alluded to sexual misbehaviour between married people – which did not go down well at all.
The village did not succeed in stopping publication, but the work remained in mostly academic circles. It was republished in 2013, and was met with a more curious reception from the villagers, many of whom are direct descendants of those described. One hundred years later it is more difficult, but not impossible, to identify some of the individuals referred to in the report.
On 2nd February 1913, at 2am, the decapitated body of Maude Francis Davis was found in a railway tunnel between High Street Kensington and Nottinghill Gate, London. She was 37.
She had just returned from a trip to New York, where she had ostensibly been on holiday, but friends said she had actually been looking into human trafficking of poor women and children to the United States and West Indies, to force them into prostitution. Her travels had supposedly taken her all over the world, but we have no further details of her itinerary. We do know that on the last leg of her journey she was extremely nervous and confided in a fellow traveller, Mrs. Margaret Davies (no relation,) who testified that Maud started to act strangely and complained of being ill. Whether or not the illness was to keep her in her cabin, and out of view, can only be left to the readers to suppose. Before arrival at Liverpool Maud asked Mrs. Davies, “What does this mean? The boat is full of spies? Haven’t you seen them?” The ship reached Liverpool on January 31, and a frightened Maud asked the other woman if she could travel with her in the train to Euston. Mrs. Davies agreed, but in retrospect they would have been far wiser to seek help on arrival in the United Kingdom.
On their travels, Mrs. Davies confirmed to the inquest that Maud said, “I hope your having been seen travelling with me and speaking to me won’t bring you any trouble.” She asked for Mrs. Davies’ address, saying, “I may need it. You may be called up as a witness.” Maud commented that, “We are getting very near London now.” She took off her coat and left the compartment. Mrs. Davies never saw her again, and we have no further information on Maud’s movements after that. Whether removing her coat was intended as a way to alter her appearance or not will never be known. She left her luggage at Euston. Whilst at Euston she visited a waiting room and took a ticket for High Street, Kensington to visit some friends.
Maud Davies’ movements are a mystery until two a.m. on February 2nd, when a railway worker found her body in a tunnel on the Metropolitan Railway near Kensington. The cause of death was decapitation, presumably when a train ran over her. It is thought she died around 4.30, the time her watch stopped.
The coroner found that whilst still alive, a small, sharp object, such as a hatpin, had made numerous puncture wounds over her chest. They were all in the same spot, which he thought made it unlikely that they were inflicted during a struggle. All the coroner could surmise was that she had made the wounds herself. A bizarre assumption, and it never seems to have occurred to him that her arms could have been pinioned while the stabbing took place. A broken piece of the hatpin was found embedded in her heart on post mortem examination. None of the wounds was sufficient to kill, and cause of death was decapitation. Maud was also found to be suffering from a lung condition, which he surmised accounted for her ‘feverish fears’. All accounts from family and friends which stated that she was not in the least suicidal carried little weight.
From my personal opinion, there was a great deal of sexist assumption in the useless inquest which followed. Her fears, desire for a witness, talk of spies and dangers, were all dismissed, despite testimony that she was a down-to-earth, level-headed woman, not given to flights of fancy, or hysteria. The coroner concluded that the chest wounds were self-inflicted, and that the decapitation may, or may not, have been an accident. An open verdict was recorded, and no further evidence has ever been gathered to overturn that verdict. There is no doubt in my mind that this was a case of murder, and that at least one of the assailants was female.
If I were investigating, the first person I would have interviewed under caution is Mrs. Margaret Davies. I am suspicious as to why the last person to see her alive, made friends with her on the sea voyage, undertook a train journey to a place in London when she wasn’t going there, and as an Edwardian female, undoubtedly had access to a hat pin. Also why was she travelling alone? That was unusual for the time. I also wonder why she didn’t raise the alarm when a woman who was so frightened of being attacked suddenly disappeared without all her possessions. I may be doing the lady a disservice, and these questions may have been asked, and the answers not available to me. However, you always start with the last person to see them alive, and I don’t feel that this lady’s death got the scrutiny she deserved. I also do not see that the people in charge of this investigation have performed anything even close to a competent investigation.
I leave you to ponder on this case for yourself.