In this extract from our latest issue, Rosemary Collins talks to Ian Gray, archivist at Walsall Archives, about one of the documents from the archives' collections - a secret love letter written by Sister Dora, a nun and nurse beloved by the Walsall community.
Who was Sister Dora?
Sister Dora was born Dorothy Wyndlow Pattison on 16 January 1832 to the local rector and his wife in the village of Hauxwell, near Richmond in Yorkshire. She left at the age of 29 to run the village school in Little Woolston, Buckinghamshire. On a visit to Coatham near Middlesbrough in 1863 she observed the work of an Anglican convent known as the Christ Church Sisterhood, joining in September 1864 and becoming Sister Dora. The order had established a small hospital in North Ormesby, a convalescent home in Coatham and ran the hospital in Walsall.
She began her nursing career in Coatham, before an outbreak of scarlet fever caused a staffing shortage and she was sent to the Cottage Hospital, Walsall, in January 1865, initially for four months before returning. In November 1865 she went back to Walsall where she would spend the rest of her life and become almost universally loved and admired by the local population, particularly the town’s railwaymen who were often admitted to the hospital with serious injuries. In June 1873 they presented her with a pony and trap after subscribing £50 from their wages to do so.
She was present at the Pelsall Hall Colliery disaster of November 1872 when the colliery flooded with 22 men and boys trapped underground. She provided food, blankets, and comfort to the community while they waited for news. In February 1875 a smallpox epidemic broke out in Walsall, and Sister Dora nursed the sick alone and at considerable risk. She also left the sisterhood the same year, but continued work as a nurse.
She died in Walsall on 24 December 1878 after being diagnosed with breast cancer. In 1886 a statue was unveiled in her honour on The Bridge in Walsall; this is believed to be the first statue in Britain of a non-royal woman.
Who was Kenyon Jones?
On 15 October 1875 a blast furnace exploded at Jones & Son Iron Founders on Green Lane, Walsall, resulting in 16 men suffering terrible burns. A ward was cleared at the hospital to accept the injured – three had died on arrival, and five recovered to be transferred to another ward. The remaining eight were nursed by Sister Dora until the final worker died of his wounds two weeks later. It was because of this accident that she met Kenyon Jones (1845–1931), the owner of the iron foundry.
This meeting sparked a friendship between the two that became much more intimate than realised at the time, as evidenced by a cache of letters discovered by a plumber and decorator renovating a property in Walsall in the 1930s. They were originally given to and printed in the Walsall Observer before being deposited with Walsall Archives in 1985.
The letters show that the couple fell in love, but they were compelled to keep their feelings secret. Sister Dora was viewed by the population of Walsall with a saintly reverence, and she couldn’t afford for any scandal to break about her relationship – she was 15 years older than Kenyon Jones too, which also seems to have been a factor. In addition she was dedicated to her nursing, and marriage would mean that she would have to give it up.
The letters show that the couple fell in love, but they were compelled to keep their feelings secret.
Some of the other letters come across as quite needy. She often pleads, and in some cases demands, that Kenyon comes over to see her that evening – requests he seems to have complied with, except for when the furnaces at the factory were operating at full blast and he was unable to leave. In one of the letters, he suggests that she look out of the window towards the factory where the flames would act as a “flamerometer”, and she would know if he was free or not to visit. The reference to the flamerometer then becomes a running joke throughout the letters.
What is the letter about?
I would like to share the last letter in the collection, which Sister Dora wrote on 30 October 1878 when she knew she was dying. For this reason alone it is rather poignant. It is addressed to “My dear Kenyon” rather than “dear Mr Jones” as was usual in their correspondence, and is very raw in how she cannot allow him to see her in her state of illness.
The full text of the letter is as follows:
My dear Kenyon,
I have got propped up to write this to you. See how boldly I commence!! I was so sorry you should have a useless walk last night - particularly in the snow. I pictured you walking up Green Lane, facing it. My darling, I dare not see you, it agitates me so much. I feel almost it might kill me. I am sure it only distresses you to see me in such a state and I cannot prevent it.
I am writing to hinder you coming tonight - for I am so weak today, although I slept better. I am obliged to rest in this letter at every line.
Ah Kenyon, you must not fret for me or grieve - I think I shall soon lay down the cross and must exchange it for a crown.
Ys. very faithfully
Sister Dora.
