Robert Major Collins (1854-1924)
Robert Major Collins was born in Hull on 27th December 1854, the fifth child of Robert and Hannah Collins. He was apprenticed as a painter and decorator, probably becoming fully employed on his twenty-first birthday in 1875. All references to him in the records indicate that he kept with his trade for the rest of his life. Also, he always worked for other people, probably a journeyman who moved from employer to employer, but never started his own business.
The next reference to Robert Major in the records is his marriage to Ruth Thompson on 22 April 1879 at St Paul’s Church in Sculcoates, when he was 24 years old. She was a widow working as a domestic servant, with a claimed age of 29, but actually she was nearly 31.
Ruth’s maiden name was Waite. She was born in Epworth on 13th March 1848, and it is likely that they knew each other living in such a small town, despite their age difference. Her parents were John Waite and Ruth Pitchfork, who married in about 1835. They had at least four children, and he was an agricultural labourer for most of his life. In the census of April 1871, when John was 66 years old, he was an inmate of the Thorne Workhouse, a large building in Union Street near the canal. He was listed as a lunatic, though he still worked, so he must have been docile and possibly had senile dementia. He died in about 1885. His wife lived in Pinfold Street in Epworth throughout her life, latterly with their daughter Jane Ann, and died in about 1895.
A mystery surrounds the events around the marriage of Robert Major and Ruth, one that is not fully understood, and it is unlikely ever to be solved. In the first place, there is no record in the public marriage certificate indexes that anybody called Ruth Waite married a person with the surname Thompson during the ten years before her marriage to Robert Major Collins. Possibly a wedding took place that was not registered, but this is unlikely. Possibly it was only a common law marriage, which may have been necessary to hide the birth of a child. It has been difficult to research this further because Thompson is such a common surname.
The second complication is that Robert and Ruth's first child, Robert Maurice Collins, was born out of wedlock in Epworth on 30th September 1877, nearly 19 months before they married. Ruth must have returned home to her mother in Pinfold Street for his birth. Robert Major’s grand-daughter, Hilda Collins, was aware that Robert Major Collins was something of a black sheep in the family but never knew the reason. It was a closely guarded secret, never discussed, and has not been passed down. This may have something to do with him being the father of an illegitimate child and incidents surrounding their marriage.
An engraving from the mid-19th century of St. Paul’s church in the Sculcoates district of Hull, where Robert Major Collins and Ruth Thompson were married on 22nd April 1879. They lived in Waterloo Street at the time. His younger brother Morris was one of the witnesses at the wedding, and probably the Best Man.
It may be significant that they married ten weeks after Robert Major’s father died, especially as it was nearly 19 months after the birth of their first child, Robert Maurice Collins. It is possible there was some family argument about their relationship. It is certainly likely that the family would be unhappy about their son having a baby out of wedlock, and with a widow. The fact they married in church offers legitimacy to their relationship, and that she was, in fact, a widow. There is no doubt, though, that Robert Maurice Collins was the son of Robert Major. (Explained on the Robert Maurice Collins page.)
After their marriage, Robert Major and Ruth Collins stayed in Hull, where their second son, Harry, was born in about 1880. Then another change took place that was to have an impact on the next generations of the Collins family. By April 1881, Robert Major and Ruth had left Hull and moved to the other side of the Pennines to settle in Manchester. This was a bigger change than his father, Robert Collins, leaving his farm at West Linton to move to Hull, thirty years earlier. It would have a dramatic effect on the family, who were about to go backwards on the social scale. From now on, our family history was to be associated with the major industrial city of north-west England.
The move adds to the mystery that surrounds the early years of Robert Major and Ruth Collins’s life together. We will never know what made them to move from Hull to settle permanently in Manchester. It would have been a momentous move in 1880. Is it possible that a specific event or scandal caused such a significant decision? Could it just have been about an illegitimate child? It must have been a compelling reason as, clearly, Robert Major could have continued to make his living as a painter and decorator in Hull.
In the April 1881 census, the family was living at 11 James Henry Street in Salford, Lancashire. Also, some other members of the family moved at about the same time: his younger brother Morris, his mother Hannah and her grand-daughter, Louisa Lee, who settled at 61 Napier Street, Ardwick, Manchester.
Perhaps there was no scandal. The reason for moving to Manchester could have been due to Morris’s job as a police constable. His elder brother George had given up his trade as a tailor by 1881, and was serving as a detective police officer in Bradford, Yorkshire (where he lived at 136 Hollins Road, with his wife Alice and his nine month old daughter Alice Maud). Living with them was Alice’s brother Charles Grant, who was also a painter and decorator from Sutton in Hull. So it is possible they met through Robert Major, since the Collins brothers seem to have been close to each other.
There was great competition for positions in the police force at that time, as it was a well-paid, guaranteed job working for the Council and carried a pension at the end. It is possible that George found an opening for Morris to join the force in Manchester. Then all the family moved there to stay together.
The fact that two members of the family joined the police force gives us valuable information on the stature and condition of the men in the Collins family. In the 19th century, a man had to be at least 6 feet (1.83 metres) tall to join the police force, as it was a tough, physical job and they only wanted fit, well-built young men. Growing up in a country town such as Epworth would have been a distinct advantage to Morris and George, as it was a much healthier environment than the pollution of a large industrial city like Manchester. Remember also that both their grandfather and great-grandfather lived to the age of 90, so they are likely to have been of robust health. Robert Major Collins was also described as a tall, slim man by his grand-daughter Hilda.
In the April 1891 census, Robert Major and Ruth Collins were living at 44 Napier Street in Ardwick, Manchester. They had two additional children; May, age 8, and Jesse, age 4. Their house was only a few doors away from where his mother and brother lived ten years earlier. So they must have moved to live closer to each other at some time when a suitable house became available for rent. His mother, Hannah, must have died by this time as no person with that name, and born in Ousefleet, was listed in the census. It is not known where she died. Morris had already returned to Hull to become a self-employed wagonette driver (a four wheeled horse drawn vehicle) with his wife, Annie, and her two children from her previous marriage.
Napier Street taken from St. Silas Street, Ardwick, Manchester. where Robert Major and Ruth Collins lived in the 1880s/90s. The picture comes from the excellent Manchester Photographic Archive and was taken in 1965 just before the houses were demolished. There would have been little change, except the chimney pots had been replaced. Notice the factory building at the top of the street.
Manchester was a metropolis, the second largest and most important city in the country, bristling with industry and commerce, and alive with people. There was a saying at the time: what Manchester does today, London does tomorrow and the rest of the world does the day after. The population of Ardwick alone was about 40,000, about the same as Hull, but there was no respite from the industrial atmosphere, unlike the sea and countryside surrounding Hull.
By April 1901, the family had lived in Manchester for over twenty years and had moved around the corner to 8 Meadow Street. Robert Major was now aged 46, a house decorator, and Ruth was a 53 year old housewife. Their eldest child and our direct ancestor Robert Maurice Collins was an India Rubber Worker aged 23; Harry was a general labourer, age 21; May was a fancy box maker, age 18; and Jesse was a letterpress printer’s apprentice, age 14. What is evident from all the records is that there was plenty of employment in Manchester, as the city was booming and still expanding rapidly. So they probably enjoyed a comfortable living at their own level. What is difficult to understand, though, is why did Robert Major and Ruth, who were raised in a very small country town, continued to live in an area that was the epitome of the “dark satanic” industrial north, especially when he could ply his trade almost anywhere. The only conclusion to be drawn is that they must have enjoyed their life in the hustle and bustle of a large city with all its amenities, despite the drawbacks.
A picture of Meadow Street in Ardwick, from the Manchester city archives. It was taken in 1955, but the scene had probably not changed much from 50 years earlier when Robert Major and Ruth Collins lived here with their family. They lived in this street for about 30 years until after Ruth died on 11th October 1914. Notice the ubiquitous shop on the corner.
It looks like the road cobbles have been surfaced over and a few houses have been pointed, but it is still a grim place. Napier Street was the next street and all the houses in the area looked similar. Everybody rented, and Robert Major and Ruth probably moved to a larger property with three bedrooms as their children grew up. Even so, It is hard to imagine four adults and two teenagers living in one of these small houses. It was a tight fit.
The area was hemmed in by the heavily polluted River Medlock (surrounded with factories and warehouses) and railway lines taking trains to London Road Station, Mayfield Station and the vast acres of the Ancoats Goods Marshalling Yard. Some tracks were on viaducts to allow easier access to the mainline stations, and these dominated the local scenery. The photographer had his back to a viaduct, taking the train eastwards across the Pennines to Sheffield and beyond. It is hard for us to Imagine the almost continuous noise and smoke from steam engines travelling across the viaduct as high as the houses, on their way to and from Manchester. We would find it intolerable today.
Harry Collins later became a rag and bone man, presumably with a horse and cart, and he was something of a rough diamond. His niece, Hilda Collins remembered him visiting when she was a child. Her mother, Ada Collins, would say: “Here’s the rouge coming”. He always gave the children a penny each, “but he always got it back before he went”. May had a son, whom she called John, but she was not married, and this would have been a scandal at the time. Hilda, born in 1908, never saw May as she went “melancholic” and was sent to live at the Lancaster Asylum. Apparently she was quite happy and had a light job, but she spent the rest of her life there. It’s not known what happened to her son.
Robert Major and Ruth Collins moved to 21 Meadow Street, presumably to a smaller house as their children left home. Unfortunately, Ruth slowly deteriorated with senile dementia and, at the age of 66 (though her death certificate shows age 63 - she must have kept her real age secret throughout her life). She died of cardiac muscle failure on 11th October 1914 in the Infirmary at Withington Workhouse. No treatment would have been available at the time, other than nursing, and most people would have died at home with their family. So, she was probably living in the workhouse because of her dementia, and subsequently died there. She would only have been accepted by the workhouse if she was officially poor, and could not be cared for in any other way.
Robert Major was described as a painter journeyman on Ruth’s death certificate, as he moved around between employers to earn a living. His grand-daughter Hilda Collins remembered him at this time as a grumpy old man. A typical example of his behaviour was when he was painting the outside of a pub near to where she lived in Clifton Street in West Gorton. As she passed by, she shouted hello to him, but he just told her to go away and leave him alone. He was a frequent visitor at the house of his son Robert Maurice and his wife Ada (Hilda’s parents), but had little to do with the children and was usually bad-tempered. He often slept at the Withington Workhouse in his old age, probably none of his family could take him in, as they had growing families of their own, or perhaps they weren’t prepared to, and so he fell back onto the workhouse.
Withington Workhouse taken in 1900, from the Manchester archive collection. This is the front entrance and there were extensive buildings around. These scenes would have been familiar to our ancestors. It is now Withington Hospital, a major teaching hospital. People dreaded ending their lives in the workhouse, and only the desperate went there. The regime was authoritarian and it was the last port of call when all other areas of help had been exhausted. Other than charity, it was the only social service available to provide care and attention to the destitute. Robert Major and Ruth Collins must have been in a sorry state to have gone there for help.
The fortunes of the Collins family had now sunk to their lowest level in our history. The once proud and wealthy landowners from the rural East Riding of Yorkshire were now dependent on the charity of the workhouse to survive in one of the greatest industrial cities in the world. Robert Major’s father, Robert, could not possibly have imagined that this would result from leaving his large and prosperous farm at West Linton only 60 years earlier.
On 10th August 1924, Robert Major Collins died, aged 69 (though his death certificate shows age 68) in the Withington Workhouse, of arteriosclerosis and cerebral haemorrhage. He was still sleeping there as his address is given as 10 Russell Street, Chorlton-on-Medlock. This was a street of similar terraced houses to those in Ardwick and he probably moved there to be more accessible to the workhouse.
The Withington Workhouse Infirmary, where Ruth and Robert Major Collins both died. The picture is illustrative of the regime in the workhouse. It is bland and austere; there are no coverings on the windows to shade the patients or prevent draughts; there are no curtains to provide any confidentiality when the doctor or nurse attended them; the whole ward is lit by just two light bulbs, so it would have been impossible to read after dark, and the winter nights must have seemed very long. The washing facilities were basic judging from the pitcher of water in the bowl on the table, but no more than the patients would have expected in their own homes. You can almost smell the carbolic soap that would have been used to scrub the floors.
Throughout the history of the Collins family, each generation made its contribution to the next and, up to this point, it seems they all managed to pass down a reasonable standard of living to their children. Robert Major and Ruth Collins are the only ones that failed to maintain this tradition, and the family fortunes deteriorated during their time. It could be that moving to Manchester from Epworth was a mistake, but they have to take their share of the responsibility, as his parents ensured he had a trade that he could have developed into a business to provide a better living for his family. Perhaps Robert Major’s lack of achievement gives us a clue to his personality and character, or maybe he just wasn’t bright enough to do more. Whatever the reason, the working class legacy he and Ruth passed on to their children was to dominate the family for the next two generations.