Teacher, Tram Manager and Entrepreneur: The Remarkable Life of Euphemia Penman

Euphemia Penman was a remarkable woman who rose to become one of the most respected managers in the emergent tram systems of late-Victorian London. In the period, given the social conventions of the time, this was without a doubt a significant achievment.

For those of you that have followed TurnipRail for some time I can happily report that my thesis on the management of the London and South Western Railway is nearly at an end. What I have not divulged before is that after it is dispensed with I am hoping to start exciting new work on the management history of trams and trolleybuses. It was while doing some preliminary work for this new project that I came across ‘Miss Penman.’

But first, I feel a bit of background is required. In the 1870s numerous tram systems had been established in London under the Tramways Act 1870. One part of this legislation specified that local authorities were able to acquire these companies, much to their annoyance, after they had been operating for twenty-one years. In 1898 the London County Council (LCC), who always seemed to work in the interest of those it served, decided to take advantage of this clause and started the processes of acquiring the London Tramways Company (LTC).  

It was on a list of senior LTC officials the LCC was going to re-engage after the take-over that I first found Euphemia. Within the new organisational structure she was to take up the important position of ‘Superintendent of conductors and of checking staff at chief and cash offices,’ and her proposed salary was an impressive £350 per annum with ‘house, coal and light.’^[1] (this later increased to £400).^[2] Given this level of seniority and pay was very unusual for a woman in late-Victorian businesses, I resolved to find out more about Penman’s life and career.

She was born to David and Rachel Penman in Breath, Scotland, in 1852 and in that year she had three older brothers, James, William and Harry. Beyond this very little has been found about her early life. By 1870 she was teaching a ‘Sabbath evening class’ in Dysart (near Kirkcaldy) and in March that year, because of the high esteem in which she was held by her students, they presented her with pew bible in which was inscribed the following: ‘Presented to Miss Euphemia Penman as a token of respect, by her Sunday Scholars. – Dysart March 28 1870.’ She would never be aware of it, but this was not the last ‘token of respect’ Euphemia would receive in Dysart.

Euphemia’s first position in the tramway industry was as a simple checker of tickets on the Glasgow Tramway and Omnibus Company (GTOC). ^[3] She seemingly rose through the ranks quickly and by 1879 she was forewoman of the female staff employed at the company’s central offices. Clearly she made an impression on the GTOC’s senior management. When Mr Smart, its most senior official, gained the same post within the LTC in 1879 ^[4] she followed him south, becoming head of its women checkers’ department.

At the same time many other GTOC staff followed Smart to the LTC.^[5]  This is very interesting, as the movement of so many officials from an established tram system (the GTOC being formed in 1871) to a newer one evidences that within the early tram industry there was a dearth of knowledge on how to administer and operate these new transportation systems. The LTS was therefore astute in recruiting officials that at that point would have been considered experts in tram management.

Between 1879 and 1898 Euphemia’s status rose within the company and indicative of this by 1890 she was living in a house provided by the LTC at its headquarters on the Camberwell New Road.^[6] The organisation grew, and in 1894^[7]  she was given the huge responsibility of overseeing the company’s 560 conductors.^[8] Her duties were to receive reports daily as to their work, engage and, if necessary, dismiss any, and she also oversaw the distribution of tickets.^[9]

In the 1890s for a woman to possess such authority within business was exceptional. The Sunderland Daily Echo stated she was the ‘only woman in England who occupies the very unique position of superintendent of tramway conductors.’ Like in her days as a Sunday school teacher she was respected by those beneath her, the paper reporting ‘that she has won the respect and confidence of the men is shown by the fact that there is not one who has a word to say against her encroachment into what one would ordinarily regard as the special preserve of man.’ The men apparently spoke highly of her fairness, her strict regard for discipline and business abilities.^[10]

Indeed, it was Euphemia’s business abilities that make the last part of her story even more fascinating than it already is. She was not only a woman with decision-making responsibility within a major company, but she was also a businessperson outside it. In late-May 1899 she and her partner Robert Lindsay, who was changing professions, dissolved their business as cab proprietors operating out of Oak Tree-place St. John’s Road, London.^[11] Little is known about this concern, although it was not small. As a result of it shutting down in early-May Lindsay was advertising the sale of twenty-five horses, twelve ‘hansom cabs’, twelve cab harnesses, a chaff machine, a platform weighing machine and ‘usual sundries.’^[12]

The extent of Euphemia’s involvement in this firm has not been determined; yet, given the cabs traded under R. Lindsay’s name, and taking into account her responsibilities within the LTS, it is more likely she was a silent partner. Irrespective of this, this activity demonstrates that she actively sought commercial opportunities for herself beyond her employment.

In March 1899, only months after transferring to the LCC’s employ, Euphemia fell ill; another likely reason by the cab business was dissolved. No reports detail what she was suffering from, however, she underwent an operation that unfortunately did not rectify the problem and on Tuesday 9 July she died suddenly while recovering in Margate. ^[13] She was buried two days later in Glasgow.^[14] Reflecting her successful life, her will left the considerable sum of £624 14s 2d to three individuals; Thomas Gibson, a watchmaker, Joshua Kidd Bruce, a veterinary surgeon, and Thomas Davies.^[15]

Euphemia was greatly mourned after her death and, as a testament to the high regard in which she was held, the LTC’ directors and employees raised funds for a memorial to commemorate her life. Designed by D Carnegie and Son of Dundee, in January 1900 a granite monument was erected in Dysart; the same place where her Sunday school students had presented her with a bible thirty years before.^[16]

I have only briefly touched on the life of Euphemia Penman in this short biography, yet there is clearly much more to be discovered about her. What has however been demonstrated is that she was a remarkable individual within the late-Victorian period; not simply because she defied social conventions that said that only men were to rise high in business, but because of the clear talent she brought to her work, the entrepreneurial spirit she had and the high esteem in which she was held by those employed under her.

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[1] London Metropolitan Archives [LMA], LCC Min 6719, Highways Committee Minute Book, 10 November 1898, p.70

[2] LMA, LCC Min 6720, Highways Committee Minute Book, 23 March 1899, p.346

[3] Hull Daily Mail, Thursday, 18 August 1898

[4] Evening Telegraph, Thursday, 13 July 1899

[5] Hull Daily Mail, Thursday, 18 August 1898

[6] Retrieved from Ancestry – Electoral register, Camberwell, 1890, p.188

[7] Evening Telegraph, Thursday, 13 July 1899

[8] Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette, Saturday 26 November 1898, p.5

[9] Evening Telegraph, Thursday, 13 July 1899

[10] Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette, Saturday 26 November 1898, p.5

[11] The London Gazette, 16 June 1899

[12] The Standard, Monday, 1 May 1899, p. 12

[13] Whitstable Times and Herne Bay Herald, Saturday 22 July 1899

[14] North Wales Chronicle, Saturday, 15 July 15 1899

[15] Recovered from Ancestry.

[16] The Courier and Argus, Tuesday, 16 January 16, 1900, p. 6

For ticket holders and dignitaries only - why I felt cheated by "Steam on the Underground"

‘The events’ writes the Transport for London's (TfL) website ‘will explore the tube’s history and will look at the role it will play in the future – both in the lives of Londoners and the economy of the City and the UK.’ We have repeatedly been told that London’s underground network is the lifeblood of the city; flowing into the veins of all who live and work here. We have been told that it serves us, that it functions for our benefit, through times of happiness and joy; and through sorrow and heartache. This does, therefore, lead me to ask why one of TfL's events, the running of steam on the Underground, was seemingly so poorly orchestrated that there was no hope that most Londoners could get a descent look-in.

I’m not talking about the lottery for tickets to ride on the steam train. There were limited spaces and this was probably the fairest way to decide who got to go on the historic run. Nor am I talking about the success of getting a steam engine running on the underground in the first place; that is a notable achievement. Rather, I am talking about the chronic lack of information available; the very un-friendly provisions for families and the arrangements for viewing the train at Moorgate.

Enthusiasts at Earl's Court

 The underground’s website suitably praised TfL’s operation of a historic train; except that crucial of all information, the route and times of its journey. Nether was their information on the best places to see it. I knew, as did almost every railway enthusiast, which rather obscure website held such information. But imagine if I were a parent wanting to take my children to see the run, would I have known which website to go? I don’t think so; I don’t think many would have known how to find the times out. Consequently, at the stations I visited it was clear that the railway enthusiast fraternity had turned out in droves; while ‘Londoners’, young and old, were in short supply. Why the times were not on the main TfL site (or if it was it was very well hidden) is beyond me.

TfL also probably made a windfall out of the steam train’s journeys. This wasn’t because of the £180 it cost to ride on it, that presumably covered the cost of operating the train. I’m referring to all those who ‘touched in’ with their Oyster cards, but failed to touch out in time because they were waiting around for the steam train, meaning money was subtracted from it. Suffice to say I got stung twice. I topped up my Oyster like a good little lad at Hampton Court; I usually top it up to the price of a travel card, so I had £8.90 when I left there. But after being inside Earl’s Court Station waiting for the steam engine for about an hour, on attempting to leave I was told I had no money. I queried this, but eventually put it down to some fault in the system and topped up again. Yet, when the same thing happened on attempting to leave at Barbican, after being ‘inside’ the tube for about two hours - it was only then I twigged. I appreciate I should have been more astute and figured this would happen; after all, I travel on the tube weekly. But what about the uninitiated; someone who was unfamiliar with Oyster cards and visiting to specifically see the train? I dread to think how much TfL made out of such people who made the same mistake I did. Yet, people could have avoided such a blunder if TfL had simply placed a mention on their website and at stations ‘Do not use an Oyster if planning to stay in the station for some time – use a paper Travelcard.’ Would this have been so hard?

I probably got one of the best views - still dreadful though

But then there was what happened at Moorgate. Now, I know that a lot of people wanted to get to the steam train to have a look, but the way that the situation was handled was verging on the infuriating. For those who are unaware; Moorgate has two terminal platforms. When I arrived behind the barrier, TfL had decided to put the steam train in one of these and then had shoved a tube train, completely obscuring mine and others view, in the next. This was followed by at least 45 minutes of very mixed messages from different officials and police officers as to whether the tube train would move – at first it was going to; but then it didn’t; although we weren't certain of that for some time. Following this the dignitaries who had just got off the steam train came round in front of us, wandered up and down the stationary tube, and then left by another train that had arrived on a platform we were on.

Still our view was obscured. I heard a mother with three children, one of the few families I saw there, say ‘this whole thing has been organised against children’ – a sentiment I couldn’t disagree with; especially as she was unsure whether her two boys would get a look at the steam train. Eventually, we were let on the stationary tube so we could peer through the windows at the piece of railway heritage on the next line. It was ridiculous really. You weren’t able to take descent photos because of the glare from the glass; you weren’t able to even see much because of the people cramming by the windows; and awe and wonder was in generally short supply. Then, I heard the crying from down the train; one of the children who had waited couldn’t see it.

No way to see much, if any of the steam train.

The steam train was only at Moorgate for about an hour and half. Would it have been so hard for TfL to cordon of one side of the platform for that short time, have the barrier patrolled, and remove the tube train so that all, not just dignitaries, could see the steamer in all its splendour? Would that have been so hard? In the end I came away with numerous blurry photographs and lots of reflection from the window. Unsurprisingly, most around me had exactly the same grumble.

All in all, a steam engine on the underground was a wonderful thing; and those who got the special service running should rightfully be congratulated. But I am sorry to say that as someone who has paid for the journey through may underground fares, who loves the tube and is interested in railway history, it seemed that unless you were lucky enough to have a ticket to ride or were a dignitary, you were a burden to TfL; not worthy of suitable attention or information. Overall, I came away feeling cheated; I had paid £18.90 topping up my Oyster, had waited over four hours in the cold, all for limited return. Therefore, TfL take note; you claimed this event was for those who live and work in London; yet you created a reality that was quite different.

Counting customers - railway traffic before Christmas in the 1800s

There is no doubt that the four or five days before Christmas are some of the busiest for Britain’s railways as people travel home to see their friends and relatives, or return bleary eyed from Christmas parties and gatherings. No doubt the flooding in Britain has reduced the number of trains running in the period this year. However, nationally, 22,247 trains were scheduled on the 21 December; 20,436 on the 22^nd; 11,588 were supposed to run yesterday and 18,968 are due to run today.^[1] Most Train Operating Companies have not supplement their regular scheduled services,^[3] Chiltern being the only one.^[2] Thus, with largely regular Saturday and Sunday timetables in operation on the 22^nd and 23^rd December, and with trains stopping early today, many passengers will feel like they have travelled in tin cans by the end of the festive season.

However, it is no comfort to say so, but crowded trains are what the Christmas passenger has experienced for over a century. In the nineteenth century particularly, the various railway companies provided the press with a plethora of data on their Christmas traffic. In the days after the 25 December how many passengers to and from stations were commonly mentioned in newspapers, especially as the numbers usually grew each year. 

The number of passengers who travelled in the festive period from London via the Great Western Railway (GWR) perfectly shows this growth. In 1895 the number booked at the company’s City and West End Offices and London Stations between Friday 20 December and Thursday 26 December at noon was 40,750. This was an increase on 1889’s total of 37,000. Indeed, in 1895 5,953 passengers travelled from Paddington on Saturday 21 December; with 8,992 being conveyed on Christmas Eve.^[4] Therefore, with Christmas passenger numbers increasing so rapidly year on year, it is quite possible that individual travellers found themselves progressively squeezed as the railways struggled to keep pace with the changing demand.   

However, as we are currently told passenger numbers in this country continue to grow, it would be interesting to see this year whether the 374 and 307 trains scheduled leave Paddington on the 21 and 24 December respectively are on average they are more packed than those on the same day in 2011. ^[5]

But passenger data was not the only information the newspapers featured; and the amount of parcels handled by stations also appeared alongside it. Those passing through the London and North Western Railway’s Euston Station were of particular interest and, as I related in a blog post last year, special arrangements were established there in the 1840s to handle this vast and growing traffic. Statistics have been found which show that number of parcels arriving at Euston in the three days before and the morning of the 25 December grew most years. They were as follows:

1848 - 12,000 [6]

1849 - 15,000 [7]

1850 - 10,000 [8]

1851 - Inward and Outward: 40,000 (figures for the week before Christmas) [9]

1852 - 12,000

1853 - 12,500 [10]

1864 - 17,000 [11]

Therefore, by digging into nineteenth century newspapers we can gauge how the railways became an integral part of Christmas for Victorians; performing the same function as do for passengers today, through taking them from home to merriment and delivering them all they needed for Christmas cheer.

Much thanks must go to Tom Cairns for the data he provided on current train operations.

A Very Merry Christmas

My other Christmas posts are as follows:

'Pretty Festoons of Holly Leaves Are Displayed' - The Decoration of Railway Stations Before 1900

"Christmas fare from the provinces" - Euston Station and the Distribution of Festive Goods in the 1840s

"An EXTRA TRAIN will leave Shoreditch" - Trains on Christmas Day before 1900
A Victorian 'Railway' Christmas - Parcels, Pastimes, Profit and Poetry

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[1] Data kindly provided by Tom Cairns http://realtimetrains.co.uk and Twitter: @swlines

[2] http://www.nationalrail.co.uk/service_disruptions/seasonal/Christmas_2012/index_custom.html

[3] http://www.nationalrail.co.uk/service_disruptions/seasonal/Christmas_2012/index_custom.html

[4] Morning Post - Friday 27 December 1895

[5] Data kindly provided by Tom Cairns http://realtimetrains.co.uk and Twitter: @swlines

[6] The Morning Post, Tuesday, December 26, 1848

[7] Daily News, Wednesday, December 26, 1849, Issue 1119

[8] The Era, Sunday, December 29, 1850

[9] The Standard, Saturday, December 27, 1851, p.1

[10] The Essex Standard, and General Advertiser for the Eastern Counties, Wednesday, December 28, 1853

[11] Jackson's Oxford Journal, Saturday, January 9, 1864

'Pretty Festoons of Holly Leaves Are Displayed' - The Decoration of Railway Stations Before 1900

In the late nineteenth century most railway employees would find themselves at work over the Christmas period, even on Christmas Day itself. Therefore, it is unsurprising that many felt the need to adorn their places of work so that the spirit of Christmas would remain with them while on duty. The decoration of stations was seemingly a collective effort by station staff, and it was reported by the Reading Mercury in January 1887 that at Sunningdale station on the London and South Western Railway (LSWR) ‘all the men have worked at the decorations during their “off time” under the supervision of the station master.^[1]

This decking out of stations at Christmas allowed travellers to pass a wealth of colour while on their journeys. In 1884 the London and South Western Railway’s (LSWR) staff magazine, the South Western Gazette, reported that the standard of decorations at suburban stations was ‘quite up to the standard of past years’.^[2] The Whitstable Times and Hearne Bay Herald stated in 1881 that the London, Chatham and Dover Railway’s (LCDR) station at Canterbury ‘looked exceedingly pretty’ and that ‘there had been no stint in the quality of decorative material, and it had been put up in a manner that evinced care and taste on the part of the decorators.’^[3] Furthermore, in 1887 the adornments at the LSWR’s Totton, Redbridge and Lyndhurst Road Stations were described by the Hampshire Advertiser as being ‘very effective, reflecting credit on those who carried out the work.’^[4]

Decorations were usually a mix of local plants, particularly evergreens, with other items added. In 1888 the booking office and waiting room at Purley on the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway (LBSCR) was decorated ‘effectively and prettily’ with holly and ivy.^[5] Furthermore, the copious adornments at the LSWR’s Sunningdale Station in 1886 were described in full, as follows:

‘The evergreens, relieved by numerous flags, and mottoes have a very pretty effect. The pillars are entwined with Turkey red, above which is a diamond shaped wreath, with Chrysanthemums, yellow, white and pink bronze at each point. The booking office is adorned with great taste, and a number of pretty festoons of holly leaves are displayed.’^[6]

Additionally, the Gazette recorded that the parcels office staff at Richmond station in 1887 had…:

“…vied with their parcel brethren at other stations in the way in which they have recognised this season of the year by wreathing and other decorations on the walls and around the windows of their office; the result has been very successful…a considerable quantity of evergreen has been expended in all decorations of this Richmond parcels office. We hear it is as well as any in the vicinity.’^[7]

Staff at Norbiton in 1884 and Camberley in 1885^[8] did things a little differently; lighting their booking offices and waiting rooms with Chinese lanterns. The Gazette recorded how at Norbiton ‘The effect at night is exceedingly pretty, and reflects great credit upon the designers.’^[9]

It is unknown when stations were decorated by their staff. However, only one article I have found reports a station's adornments before 25 December, suggesting that most stations were decked out shortly before Christmas Day.^[10] As for when they were taken down, this is again a bit of a mystery. Yet, clearly some stations were a bit lazy in doing so. At Saxmundham Station on the Great Eastern Railway in 1875, decorations were noted to be still up in the waiting room at a staff supper on the 12 January.^[11]

I have always felt that the Victorian railway community’s decoration of stations is akin to what many of us do at our own places of work; we decorate to help us remain festive while grafting. Consequently, our festooning of desks and walls follow in a long tradition of work-place festivities.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL MY READERS 

My other Christmas posts are as follows:

"Christmas fare from the provinces" - Euston Station and the Distribution of Festive Goods in the 1840s

"An EXTRA TRAIN will leave Shoreditch" - Trains on Christmas Day before 1900

A Victorian 'Railway' Christmas - Parcels, Pastimes, Profit and Poetry

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[1] Reading Mercury, Saturday 01 January 1887

[2] The South Western Gazette, January 1888, p.8

[3] Whitstable Times and Herne Bay Herald, Saturday 01 January 1881

[4] Hampshire Advertiser, Saturday 31 December 1887

[5] Surrey Mirror, Saturday 22 December 1888

[6] Reading Mercury, Saturday 01 January 1887

[7] The South Western Gazette, January 1888, p.11

[8] Reading Mercury, Saturday 02 January 1886

[9] The South Western Gazette, January 1884, p.2

[10] Surrey Mirror, Saturday 22 December 1888

[11] The Ipswich Journal, Saturday 16 January 1875

'It is impossible to manage a [pre-1914] railway by theory" ... or is it?

In the early 1900s the London and South Western Railway (LSWR) was one of five British railway companies that began sending its clerks to the London School of Economics (LSE) to undertake classes in 'railway administration.' The aim of this move was to augment the skills and knowledge of its clerical staff, the company's future managers, in a period when the quality of the railway industry's management was being questioned and it was being challenged by high material and labour costs, competition from trams on suburban routes, increased government intervention and stagnating traffic growth. Indeed, this caused a severe drop in company profitability from the late 1890s onwards.

However, before the First World War the idea of railway employees attending universities to receive management training was not universally accepted within many companies'. Furthermore, this attitude was not restricted to the railways and Amdam argued that historians have almost unanimously concluded that within British industry generally there was a ‘skepticism towards business education within the both the academic and business community’.[1]

This scepticism towards was expressed frequently by LSWR clerks in the company's staff magazine, The South Western Gazette, which was largely written and edited by them. When Hilditch, the Waterloo Station Superintendent, retired in 1905, the piece announcing this stated that he had had ‘a good plain practical education, but he possessed, in addition, what universities have not yet been able to provide, namely, a shrewdness and capacity for sound common sense, a cool head and clear intellectual grasp.'[2] The anti-university feeling was reiterated in 1909 when another clerk, writing on the matter staff education, stated that ' I will dismiss the question of the London School of Economics by saying that “it is impossible to manage a railway by theory.” Indeed, he preferred an institute where individuals could learn 'practical' railway skills.[3]

The problem with this attitude was that it was what had created many of the problems railway management faced immediately after the late 1890s. Indeed, because many senior officials felt that good railway managers were born within the industry, not made outside it, and thus recruited the vast majority internally, companies' decision-makers were highly institutionalised within the practices and norms of the railways that employed them and the industry as a whole.  Consequently, railways were unable to respond adequately to the challenges they faced as there was severe lack of innovation within them and few new ideas were being generated. This is what my PhD shows in the LSWR's case.


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[1]Amdam, Rolv Petter, ‘Business Education’, in Jones, Geoffrey and Zeitlin, Robert (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Business History, (Oxford, 2007), p.586 
[2] South Western Gazette, September 1905, p.9 
[3] South Western Gazette, December 1909, p.10

Re-start

Dear Friends

I am looking to re-start the TurnipRail Blog soon - so keep your eyes peeled!

Best Wishes

David

A Temporary End to Turnip Rail

Dear all. It is with much sadness that I write this post.

On Monday I had my Thesis Advisory Panel, where, after much discussion, it was decided that I need more work on my PhD than could be done within the three months of my remaining registration. Indeed, I may even need to extend my work until Christmas. Consequently, this has left me very disheartened, as I was hoping to start a book in October.

*UPDATE* I have decided not to pursue a career as an author and have decided to go into academia full-time when my PhD is over. It is why I did the PhD and, ultimately, I'll have the opportunity to do the thing I love, research. I am not saying I will never write a popular book - just not yet.

However, this said, I am determined to get the work done as soon is as humanly possible (before Christmas hopefully). The problem with a thesis, any thesis, is by the end those doing them want to get shot of them. Indeed, while I love my topic and the subject matter, I feel that after six years it is time to move on. Therefore, to speed my work, I have taken the decision to virtually suspend working on anything new for my sites, 'Turnip Rail' and 'Turnip Rail's Waiting Room'. Given my lovely, loyal readership, this decision has not been taken easily, and I do feel I am letting down the people who like the site and who have made it such a success over the past two and a half years. I thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for their support. But I have to get the thesis done ASAP. My career, and my sanity perhaps, depends on it.

But I will leave you with this thought: Turnip Rail will return, you can be sure of it.

With Love

David