13
woman counted as 0.8x an adult man for the
purposes of calorie requirements. The weekly
spend on food was counted to the nearest farthing
(¼d, d means 1 old penny, with 12d to the shilling
and 240d to the £). The average spend on food
was 15s 9¼d per week (£77.35 in 2023 money),
or 79% of household income. Per “equivalent
man”, each house spent on average 6¾d per
day on food (~£2.74 in 2023).
One of the few “advantages” in life that the
poor had was just how cheap accommodation was
(even if it was in a slum condition) in Edinburgh
in 1901. Per household it averaged 37¼d per
week, or about £61 per month in 2023. Some
families made half or all their rent by their Co-op
dividends alone – a measure of both just how
cheap the rent was and also how important the
Co-ops were to their members.
We come now to what our subjects ate. Let’s
just say that their diets were monotonous. 35% by
weight of what people ate was bread, a whopping
494g per “man” per day. 80% of everything eaten
was one of only six food types – bread, potatoes,
milk, sugar, beef and veg (mainly cabbage and
onion, some carrots and turnips, although the
study noted that many of the women didn’t seem
to know about any other vegetables than
potatoes). For reference, in 2013-15, the average
Scottish person consumed just 80g bread (84%
less), 64g of potatoes, 22g of beef per day. But
milk was almost the same at 201g.
People ate so much bread because it was cheap:
that 35% of bread by weight gave them 41% of
their daily calories but cost only 19% of their daily
food budget. In contrast, the beef consumed gave
just 6% of daily calories but was 23% of
expenditure. Clearly this was a luxury foodstuff
relative to the others, and it was eaten for the
protein content – and mainly by the man of the
house. The authors pointed out an anomaly in
that the traditional Scottish meat of mutton was
largely lacking in the diet, even though it was
cheaper and offered more protein per unit cost
than beef.
People got about 11% of their daily calories
from butter, jam, “syrup” (canned golden syrup or
treacle) and cheese, eaten on slices of bread as a
piece (an open sandwich, they weren’t closed back
then!). Cheese consumption in 1901 was almost
identical to Scotland’s 2013-15 average.
Unsurprisingly, oatmeal was important in the
diet, eaten as porridge – giving 6% of daily
Households which had no men in them paint a revealing
and desperately sorry tale of life for working class
women at that time
calories for 2.5% of expenditure. Eggs were
commonly eaten, although they were relatively
expensive they offered a reasonable amount of
protein. The amounts of suet, dripping, sausages
and offal are notably low. Small amounts of pulses
and barley were eaten (in soups and broths).
The subjects ate almost no fruit, except small
amounts of raisins and currants in the slightly
better off households or in jam. It was potatoes
that stopped them getting scurvy. Some teabreads
were eaten (a sweetened bread, with dried fruit
in it, usually spread with butter), almost nothing
was spent on biscuits or sweets. Seasonally
they probably did get access some fruit, when
there was a glut of cheap apples, but it is not
recorded. Confections may have been eaten
on special occasions.
Mealtimes were not coordinated or regular, the
report called this the old Canongate style. The
man usually kept a schedule aligned to his work,
with the largest meal in the evening. Children
fitted theirs around schooling with lunch the
primary meal, topped up with endless bread to
keep them full, if not nourished. The women had
to fit in between both. Children drank milk
(fresh, canned or buttermilk) lots of tea, coffee
(from essence) and cocoa.Women seemed to
drink a lot of cocoa probably needing the
sugar content.
Two last points: firstly, the study
probably would have failed without
Elsie Inglis’ involvement; it was
her and her female medical
students who convinced
reluctant families – usually the
housewife – to allow them to
intrude on their lives. Misses G.
Miller, H. Bell, Isabel Simson, May
Simson, Pringle, Cunningham,
Robertson, H. Maclaren and Colly
and Mrs Shaw Maclaren were the
students credited with
gathering the actual study
data from each family
(down to collecting every discarded bit of potato
peel to be weighed).
Secondly, one little snippet of insight into the
life of these families that really gave a lump to my
throat when I read it. It came from family
number 14, the mason’s labourer, his wife and
their 9 children, who lived in a tiny 2 room
house, “clean but bare-looking“. The report goes
on, “the eldest girl died of consumption [TB] last
year. They still keep little frames and bits of
fancy-work she was doing. They gave her a grand
funeral that cost £10 13s. Black suits had to be
bought for the father and eldest boy“. This family
had very little, yet they spent everything and
more than they had and could afford to give their
daughter a decent and dignified send off – over
10 weeks’ wages – and on account of paying off
their debts could no longer pay into their own
funeral society. I feet this really hit home how
unpredictable life was for people 120 years ago,
people living exactly where my own family was
living at the time and in exactly the same
circumstances. And it brings home a real sense of
human dignity to the lives of people in bitter and
crushing circumstances, at the bottom of the pile.
Their next eldest daughter, 17 but only 4ft 10in
tall, now looked after the house and 8 other
children when her mother went out to
work to make paper bags for 8s a
week. Such were the realities of life in
the Canongate at the end of the
Victorian age and dawn of the
20th century.
A study of the diet of the labouring
classes in Edinburgh can be found at
http://www.archive.org/details/b
/mode/2up for you to read.
I’ve only scratched the surface of it, and
there are many other stories and
insights contained within its
yellowing pages. Read
more topics at
threadinburgh.scot
Group of women and
children in the Canongate
Etching shows the outside the old White
Horse Close Inn, off Canongate
Dr. Elsie
Maud Inglis
Getting the messages in
High Street in the Canongate