The heartbreak stories of those who ended up in the workhouse at Bourne in past times reflect a harsh and even uncaring social system although many of the inmates had seen better days and had arrived there through unfortunate circumstances beyond their control. There were also mysteries that would not have been out of place in the pages of a Victorian detective novel such as the strange case of the tattooed lady which occurred 150 years ago.

Apart from the destitute from the district, the workhouse also admitted tramps and vagrants who were passing through and allowed to stay a few nights although they had to earn their keep by cleaning the dormitories or helping in the kitchens and garden before leaving for their life on the road.

It was in such circumstances that in the autumn of 1858, a young woman named Elizabeth Powell found herself living there as an inmate. She was not in good health and died within a few days on October 30th but when the body was being examined by a doctor he made a remarkable discovery.

John Burgess, chairman of the Board of Guardians which was responsible for running the workhouse or Bourne Union as it was then known, takes up the story: “It was found after her death”, he said, “that both her arms bore initials perforated with ink, and executed in a beautiful manner. As she was admitted into the union house as a casual, nothing could be correctly ascertained from her whether she had friends or not, or where her native place was. On her right arm was the following: W.B.R.H.N.G.E.W.R.S. and T. Whittingham C.5. Left arm: A.J.J.R.P.”

The workhouse officials were baffled by the lettering and on being unable to find an explanation they posted a notice in a local newspaper describing what they had found, adding: “Should this paragraph be observed by the friends of the deceased, they may ascertain more particulars by communicating with the Master of the Bourne Union.”

There was no response. Elizabeth Powell was subsequently given a pauper’s burial in the town cemetery where she lies in an unmarked grave, the secret of the tattooed messages on her arms having died with her.

The first workhouse in Bourne was situated in North Street near the junction with Burghley Street which was then called Workhouse Road but in 1836 this had become too small to cater for the new legislation and so a new building was opened in Union Street, or St Peter's Road as we know it today, with room for 300 paupers although it was rarely full because admissions were discouraged by the strict regime imposed by the Board of Guardians.

On Saturday 20th November 1858, Ann Roslin, a girl of 20, left the workhouse only fourteen days after giving birth to a child. The stigma of birth out of wedlock was a heavy burden in those days and in most cases the man involved either disappeared or refused to accept responsibility while those who did had no money to provide for them.

We have no record of the baby which most probably died at birth but the girl started walking the eight miles to Castle Bytham where it is believed that she had family and friends. When she reached Witham-on-the-Hill four miles away, she was too feeble to go any further and was obliged to stay all night in the village where she was given lodging by villagers who next morning took her by cart to Castle Bytham where she died a lingering death eight days later.

The case aroused a great deal of public indignation and there was much criticism of the guardians and the workhouse master who issued a statement the following week trying to excuse their conduct by allowing a young woman leave their care so soon after giving birth. But despite this tragic incident, it was to be another twelve years before a qualified nurse was appointed to help staff the sick wards.

The guardians ran the workhouse on firm Victorian principles and the tenet that cleanliness is next the godliness was always observed. In 1868, when several tramps seeking a night’s lodging had been found to be dirty and sometimes with a bottle of strong liquor secreted in their pockets, they issued an order saying that no one would be admitted in the future without being strictly searched and given a bath.

Inmates had to go to church regularly but as there was only enough room for thirty of them in the Abbey Church at any one time, the men and women went on alternate Sundays. There were few luxuries although in 1895 the guardians did decide that the old men over sixty years of age should be allowed an ounce of tobacco a week, jokingly referred to by members as "the fragrant weed" or “the pauper’s pipe”.

There were other treats and in 1875, Baroness Willoughby d’Eresby from Grimsthorpe Castle gave eighty inmates an afternoon picnic in Bourne Wood where they were entertained by the Bourne Drum and Fife Band and in 1898, Sir John Lawrance, of Dunsby Hall, sent ten brace of partridges from one of his shoots to be cooked for their dinner.

But the prospect of living in the workhouse remained daunting for most people, no matter what their circumstances, and some were prepared to take their own life rather than go there. In February 1922, a tramp called Maurice Jackson, aged 28, was admitted but was found dead in bed the following morning. One of the inmates told the inquest that he had heard "a gurgling sound" during the night and an investigation revealed a bottle of carbolic acid underneath his pillow. There were no signs of a struggle and the coroner recorded a verdict of suicide from poisoning. 

There were other terrible deaths, even among the younger inmates. In April 1856, Mary Green, aged 13, was burned to death while kneeling in front of the fire to warm herself. She had been employed in the workhouse master’s apartments training for a life in service but her clothes caught fire and she died the following morning.  

The workhouse was run down during the early years of the 20th century and after a spell as a mental hospital, the building was demolished in 2001 (pictured above) but the social disgrace and humiliation created by the workhouse system remains in folklore and literature as a place synonymous with hunger, poverty, deprivation and tragedy.