Heather Newbery, BA History student at the University of Exeter, has been investigating the museum’s rare 17th century window.

It’s remarkable how embarking on a research project of an object as seemingly mundane as a window can lead to the unearthing of a vivid picture of the lives of people from more than 150 years ago. At least, that’s what struck me, as I pored over centuries-old maps and early censuses, searching for Number 7, Meneage Street, Helston. It was in this building, during renovations in 1980, that a late-17th century window was unexpectedly discovered. Ever since, the window has been an integral part of the collection of the Museum of Cornish Life; today, it would be approximately 350 years old.

I undertook this research as part of a placement for a second-year university module; I am a History undergraduate at the University of Exeter, Penryn campus. The placement has been a fascinating opportunity to explore the history of the local area, whilst learning all about how museums function behind the scenes. Part of the Museum of Cornish Life’s aim is to preserve and maintain its collection for current visitors and future generations: I have played a small part in this by researching their late-17th century window, in order to write a funding bid for its conservation. As part of this research, I had the opportunity to visit Kresen Kernow, the Cornwall archives. It was here that I discovered some incredible stories about 7 Meneage Street, and Helston more broadly.

I was particularly surprised to be able to learn as much detail as I did about the Helston area. I looked at a map made in 1784 for landowner John Rodgers, Esqr., and was surprised to find that though Meneage Street was there, and some buildings were drawn, the building 7 Meneage Street was not shown. There are two possible explanations for why the building was missing: firstly, it is possible that it simply hadn’t been built yet. This, as astute readers will have noticed, suggests an intriguing past for the window – because it was made almost a century before. The window features lead ties which were used to move the panes of glass – glass was so expensive in those days that you would take it with you when you moved house, just like we might take furniture today. Was the window part of a completely different building prior to 1784? Unfortunately, we cannot be certain, because there is another possibility. 250 years ago, there were no OS Maps – instead, usually, landowners would have maps of their own property made. However, they would often exclude details of land they did not own. It is possible that 7 Meneage Street did exist, but John Rodgers did not own the property and therefore did not have it drawn.

During my visit to Kresen Kernow, I also had the opportunity to look at two historic documents from 1841: the Helston section of the 1841 Cornwall Census, and the corresponding Helston Tithe Map. The location was recorded on both documents, so between the two, I was able to build a picture of who owned, and lived in, 7 Meneage Street, in the mid-1800s.

On the Tithe Map, two buildings on one plot of land were marked as 7 Meneage Street. The property was owned by Reverend Richard Gerveys Grylls. He and his wife owned a farm and a few other properties in Helston, but compared to other landowners in the area, they did not own much. There were two tenants living in 7 Meneage Street, presumably one in each building: John Roberts, and Thomas Hoskin.
The 1841 census is considered the first ‘proper’ census of Britain, because it recorded the full name, age, sex, occupation and other personal details of everyone in the country. If a person was under 15, their exact age was recorded, but if they were older, their age was rounded down to the nearest 5 years – so someone recorded as being 25 could have actually been anywhere between 25 and 29 years old. The census was a little hard to read, but I learned some more about John and Thomas. Both men, and everyone in their households, were born in Cornwall. In 1841, John was 55 years old, and was living with Elizabeth Roberts, who was 20 – presumably a family member, although the census did not record how they were related. John’s occupation was noted as a printer and bookbinder. There was no “ap” for apprentice or “j” for journeyman added, which in the 1841 census meant that he was considered a ‘master’ craftsman – a highly skilled, expert tradesman.

Thomas, on the other hand, had a much larger family. Again, the census records the names, ages and (where applicable) occupations of the other residents, but not how they are related to each other – but we can make an educated guess. At the time of the census, Thomas was 45 years old. An occupation is listed, but unfortunately, I struggled to read the handwriting! It possibly says “tawer”, meaning a person who bleaches (taws) skins, or makes white leather – this seems plausible because he occupies the building next door to a bookbinder, who would have bound books in leather. However, this is only an educated guess. Thomas’s first listed family member was Ann, also 45 – most likely his wife. A further eight people were listed with the same surname, who I am assuming are three daughters and five sons: Mary aged 12, Emily aged 8, Anna aged 5, Richard aged 15, Thomas aged 15, John aged 14, Henry aged 10, and Joseph aged 7. Mary James, aged 15, was also listed – she does not have the same surname, and is marked as a separate family, but was perhaps a niece or friend. 14-year-old John Hoskin was listed with an occupation as a painter’s apprentice.

Items in the collections of museums like the Museum of Cornish Life are so valuable not simply for their own sake – they are remnants of the people who came before us, and they open up stories of our local area centuries ago. It’s strange, but maybe comforting, to think of Thomas Hoskin’s little children looking through that same window to see the sun shining, and running outside to play – or John Roberts, spotting a client bringing their beloved stories to him, to be printed, bound and sold. They might have seen a very different-looking Helston when they looked out of the window that now sits in the museum, but in other ways, their lives were much the same as ours.