The Jewel of Knightsbridge

by Harrod, Robin;

  Though not wishing in any way to disparage the so-called co-operative societies, with our strictly conservative ideas, we think we may venture to point out that money earned in this borough should be spent in it, but we do not ask this, if it can be shown there is a better market elsewhere, all we say is; follow our example, take nothing for granted but go and just for yourselves, flock there in your hundreds, and thousands, nay millions if it so pleases you on Tuesday next, lounge round the place, particularly visit the show on the first floor, and when your tour of inspection is completed, take a price list home with you, compare it to the one issued by the Rifle and Rudder Supply Company, and then if you find all we have said to be as true as we believe it to be, you will make your way again to the Brompton Road, and your second visit will no doubt be as interesting to Mr C.D. Harrod as your first will have been to yourselves.

  THE BARON

  Well, what an endorsement! Harrod had no need of advertising with articles like that. Despite the difference in size, the shop of 1884 does not sound as far removed as one might have thought from that of today. The shop had many new departments and a staff of over 200. Charles Digby attracted ‘celebrity’ clients of the era, and Lily Langtry, Ellen Terry and Oscar Wilde were amongst those that were allowed the first weekly accounts.

  In March 1885, Charles Digby’s father, Charles Henry Harrod, died in Chiswick, aged 85. His address was close to that of Charles’ brother, Henry Digby. Charles Henry had been on his own for some time, with only a housekeeper as company. He may have moved to Chiswick to be closer to family and it is interesting that he chose to be nearer to Henry rather than Charles. Charles Digby may have been too busy, perhaps his wife did not get on with his father, or perhaps Charles Henry did not want to be in the ‘country’ at Sydenham, so far from his old shop.

  Also in 1885, after a lifetime of prejudice against the idea, Charles Digby finally relented and employed his first female assistant. She was Ida Annie Fowle, the 27-year-old daughter of a local chimney sweep, and she was employed as a clerk in the counting house on the third floor.

  Later that same year, a newspaper report of the annual dinner at Harrods Store showed that social life had continued despite the fire disaster. Certainly by this time, the ‘family at Harrods’ concept was apparent:

  On Wednesday evening, the Annual Dinner in connection with this establishment took place in what is designated the Town Delivery Room. In the evening the room certainly presented a pretty appearance, it was draped with cloth, and flags were flying from the ceiling, while the gas burners were assisted in their work of illumination by several pretty oil lamps. The tables were tastefully decorated, and were a credit to the floral department of the store. About 90 of the assistants sat down to the dinner, which was well served in every respect. The dinner itself was also managed entirely by the Store, for this summer a new department for catering with dinners, luncheons, &c., was added to the already multifarious sections of the business carried on by Mr Harrod in the Brompton Road, and is, we understand, meeting with a good deal of support.

  Mr W. Kibble [the same] occupied the chair, and Mr W.G. Smart the vice-chair.

  After the cloth had been cleared, the Chairman proposed the health of Mr C.D. Harrod, which was drunk with musical honours and much enthusiasm, as was also the health of Mrs Harrod and family.

  Charles and Caroline had completed their family of eight children by this time and they were aged from 3 to 20 years old! It is odd that Charles Digby himself was not at the annual dinner. He may have been away, or inconvenienced, or have just given up going. It is known that in the late 1880s he started to suffer from health problems due to hardening of the arteries. He was only 44 years old in 1885, and might have needed the toast to his health more than he thought:

  The Chairman in proposing the toast of ‘Prosperity to the Employer and Employees’ said this was the third dinner that they had had, and this one was held a little earlier than usual so as to be held near the anniversary of the opening of these new premises. He trusted that this year would be as prosperous as the last one had been. (Hear.) If they went on extending their business as they had in the past, the premises would have to be extended still further, and, instead of having 200 men in the firm, 300 would have to be employed. He might mention that the whole expense of the dinner, &C., was defrayed by Mr Harrod. (Cheers).

  Mr Smart replied on behalf of the assistants to this toast, and proposed the health of Mr Kibble and Mr Hillman. These gentlemen he thought had been connected with the store the longest of any present, and he felt sure that without their aid, and the aid of the assistants who were there then, the business could not have increased by such leaps and bounds.

  Mr Kibble briefly replied, and the rest of the evening was spent as a smoking concert.

  Mr Clancy [the same man who wrote the article in 1923] opened the programme with an excellent rendering of the ‘Little Hero’, this gentleman also gave the ‘Yeoman’s Wedding’. Mr Arnold gave ‘Too Late’ and Mr W.G. Smart sang ‘The Village Blacksmith’ with feeling … and the evening was brought to a close by the singing of ‘Auld Lang Syne’.

  There were a dozen or so employees singing that evening. It looks as though William Kibble, as a family member, despite being listed just as a ‘buyer’, acted as the recognised deputy to Charles Digby.

  Another Harrodian Gazette article, written by Mr W.A. Mercer in 1928, throws light on life in Harrods in 1885. In 1928 he was the employee with the longest service and reflected on ‘the good old days’, when Charles Digby was still very much in control:

  Mr Charles Digby Harrod, son of the founder, was a ‘live wire’ and you had to jump to it or else get out. Many of us, however, were lucky to have the experience of such a good chief.

  I ‘joined up’ on 14 November 1885, as the sequel to an interview, somewhat terse, and lasting about five minutes, concluding with ‘Start next Friday in the Grocery at 7.30; bring clean smock, ditto face – 9/- per week.’

  This being my third job, it did not come very rough, but it was soon ‘What about that 7 soda, 14 jam and dozen hearthstones?’ from four or five of our old grocers, Norrington, Fraser, Weed and Bell, until 9 p.m. and 11 on Saturday, then sweep the shop and the rest of the day to yourself.

  Saturday meant going strong, right up to closing. Quite a number of customers had overlooked the Sunday joint or other necessary item, owing to having started shopping in the afternoon at ‘The Buttercup’ or ‘Friend at Hand’, one at each end of Queen’s Gardens, which was a narrow road that used to exist between Harrods and Hans Road.

  By just after the turn of the century both of these public houses had been demolished and incorporated into the expanding Harrods Store, which by then was well on its way to occupying the whole of the site that we see today. To give you some idea of the geography, the Buttercup was situated about halfway along the front of the store as it stands today, and the Friend at Hand was at the back where the Hans Road turns into what was Upper North Street and is now Basil Street. Mr Mercer continues:

  We juniors had to fetch the beer for our sections, and if the can was not full – look out!

  Often we had to take to a suburban house an overlooked Sunday dinner. This meant a run with the black or roan pony and trap, and getting back after closing time.

  The office of C.D.H., or ‘the Governor’ as he was called, was erected in the centre of the shop, and through the glass panels he did not miss much that was doing.

  All goods were paid for at the time of purchasing or sent C.O.D. No easy line of resistance was offered until some of our older clients requested credit. After a time a few accounts were opened, and rendered in book form weekly, being taken by a boy on Monday and settled promptly each week.

  C.D.H. gave me the job of memorising these accounts and marking the carman’s sheet, my status being raised from Grocery to the ‘Order Counter’ with dear old Dan Blyth.

  This counter was next to the office, and manned by the smartest order clerks in Lon
don.

  A word regarding our recreations may not come amiss.

  Derby Day caused some envy to a few of us. Some of the lucky ones went off from the front door in a fine turn out, driven by Mr Harry Pike of Chelsea. Complete with white silk hat, he could handle four of the best, to say nothing of a well-stocked hamper in the boot of the coach! …

  … It may interest some of our young ones to learn that a lot of fun could be had for a very little money. Does anyone remember the Collins at Clerkenwell, near the Sadler’s Wells, where a seat could be obtained for fourpence in the ‘Pit’ with a glass of ale given in? Six of us used to have our night a week at a shilling a head. Eight till twelve-thirty and perhaps a cigar on a birthday!

  Collins Music Hall was a famous venue in its day and could hold up to 800 people. It is now a Waterstone’s book shop, 10 Islington Green:

  Reverting to business: Stock was taken on Good Friday [!] and the day was finished at 3 p.m.

  Saturday’s orders, post, etc. were getting heavier and we had to ‘Line up’ at 6 a.m.

  C.D.H. arrived promptly on horseback from Sydenham.

  ‘No humbugging – get on with it’ – his usual expression, and Mr Blyth, assisted by his staff – Wright, Greenaway, Nicholls and Billy Weston (late Confectionery Buyer) got on with it! …

  … Although rather abrupt himself, the chief was insistent on politeness to himself and the customers.

  The present holiday list just rendered to Headquarters, reminds me that after one year and six months I got my first holiday of one week. Managers, more fortunately, got two.

  On this memorable occasion Hillier and I went to Ramsgate, leaving our main entrance at 4 p.m. in a ‘Growler’ like a couple of Rothschilds, our finances having been strengthened by ten shillings each from the long silk purse of ‘The Governor’. [The growler was a four-wheel, enclosed carriage with a coachman drawn by two horses and the precursor of a hackney carriage, that is, as a vehicle for hire. It could accommodate four people in rather cramped circumstances.] ‘And,’ he remarked, ‘as you have been a good boy [sic] remind me about a rise on your return,’ I did not forget, and – it came off. Our neat little single-horsed vans were quite attractive, lined up at Brompton Road, six or eight abreast. They had to be away at 9 a.m. sharp, or a Walton Street policeman would come along with threats of a summons for obstruction.

  Differences of opinion were seldom taken to the Head, and a rough and tumble in Queen’s Gardens, which was our National Sporting Club, made many a shortened dinner hour worthwhile. Our first floor, Hardware Section, consisting of Ironmongery, China and Turnery, was doing very well. Carpets occupied the floor above, on one side of which was our Counting House.

  There is a further account of life at the store at this time, regarding Mr Cole. It was probably an interview with him and was published in the Harrodian Gazette of 1930:

  In 1886 Mr Cole of the Jewellery Department joined up as a boy. It was then a very small department of four small enclosed counters, and the stock consisted of cheap fancy jewellery. A young lady – Miss Sturgiss – was in charge. After she left, Mr Kibble [another relative, but not the same one], a nephew of Mr C.D. Harrod, who was a practical jeweller, was appointed, and he filled the dual roles of assistant, repairer and shopwalker. Mr Cole was then put in charge as Salesman, and a stock of real jewellery being obtained, the section as a jewellery department proper began its career. Optics were added at our friend’s suggestion, rimless folders at sixpence a pair and ordinary steel folders at three and sixpence. Mr Cole speaks to-day of Mr Harrod as a man who never spared himself, he having seen him pushing a truck so heavily laden that only a strong man could move it. He expected the same ungrudging service from all under him. The hours were long, the wages were small. There was no weeks’ notice, dismissal came on the instant, with pay up to the moment you were told to get your money, but with it all there was a certain camaraderie. A good fellowship, that united for good work, and there was one great feature, the food was good and there was plenty of it.

  For in those days breakfast, dinner, and other necessary meals were provided by the Firm, so that if wages were low, the stamina of the Staff was ensured.

  The interview with William Kibble, quoted earlier, also deals with this period after rebuilding, telling the reader:

  After the rebuilding was completed, Mr Harrod lived out in Esher and was in the habit of taking a few days’ holiday from time to time. When he was away, ‘William’ was left in entire charge, buying goods, paying accounts, and managing the whole business. Until his retirement, Mr Kibble was the Buyer in the Grocery Department of Harrods, and has purchased over £7,000,000 worth of goods on behalf of the Company.

  Mr Kibble’s memory must have been letting him down, as by this time Charles Digby had not lived in Esher for ten years!

  After Harrods was no longer in the Harrod family hands, several years later William Kibble was still working there and was held in such high esteem by Richard Burbidge, the new managing director, that he was given a ‘gold watch, massive and handsome’, with the following inscription inside:

  Presented to Mr W. Kibble by Mr Richard Burbidge, Managing Director of Harrods Ltd, in recognition of the valuable assistance rendered by him in making the record increase of a Quarter of a Million Sterling upon the trading (Grocery Department) of the previous year, Brompton Road, February 21st, 1903.

  A much more recent article about an employee who joined at this time was written by the present Harrods archivist, Sebastian Wormell. It was published in the Harrods Bulletin of 14 March 2013. It was headed, ‘Kent’s Way’:

  If you work in the Knightsbridge store you must have noticed the curious names given to the basement corridors. Intended to help employees find their way through the bewildering maze of passages, these seemingly bizarre names actually have quite straightforward origins. ‘Frosty Way’ is near cold storage, ‘Wine Cellar Close’ adjoins the old wine cellars, but one name has even puzzled our archivists – ‘Kent’s Way’. We had no idea how this name was derived, until all was revealed in a letter we received recently.

  Herbert Kent came from a family of blacksmiths and farmers in the village of Allerford on Exmoor where, in the 1880s, Charles Digby Harrod had a holiday home. When in 1887 Harrod offered Herbert a job in his London store, the young man boldly accepted his offer and set off for a new life in the capital. He must have found work at Harrods congenial, as he stayed with the store until his retirement in 1929.

  For more than 30 years Herbert was the clerk in charge of receiving all goods coming into the store.

  Not surprisingly, the receiving bank became known as ‘Kent’s Bank’, and the passage leading to it was named ‘Kent’s Way’ – as it has remained ever since.

  Interestingly, the Kent family’s connection with Harrods did not end there. His son, Herbert John Kent, worked in the Furniture department, rising to become Buyer of Bedsteads and Bedding, until he retired in the 1950s. Herbert John was a prominent figure in Harrodian sports and social activities, a keen member of the Bowls Club and Chairman of the organising committee for the big annual garden parties. The family’s link with Harrods even continued into the third generation: Herbert John’s son Bruce worked at Dickins & Jones, J.F. Rockheys and D.H. Evans when they were all part of the Harrods Group of stores. And it was Brenda, Bruce’s wife, who recently wrote to help solve this fascinating puzzle in Harrods’ history.

  It is impossible to know what made Charles Digby decide to sell the business and retire late in the 1880s. Tim Dale wondered if the building of the new store had taken a lot out of him, and this could be correct. Ill health is often quoted as the reason why he took the decision. This may well have been the case, though there is little written evidence to back this up apart from a reference to his health in the sales prospectus, which is significant. He survived for many years after retirement and led an extremely full and active life in those years, which would suggest that if he did indeed suffer with poor health, it was part
ially stress related and that retirement proved to have been a very good idea.

  My reading of the evidence is that by the late 1880s, in addition to a background illness, he was tired of running the show. Although he was only 50 years old, he had been working continuously in the business since his early teens, developing the business his father had started, working hard to buy his father out and working as long hours as the lowliest of his employees.

  He had created his empire and, in modern parlance, he had ‘been there and done it’. His father had recently died; his brother William was settled permanently in New Zealand, and brother Henry was ploughing his own furrow elsewhere. Perhaps of most significance, although he and Caroline had eight children, seven of them were girls. In 1890, the girls ranged in age from 9 to 25 years. His two eldest daughters were already married, but neither of them had married anyone in ‘the trade’ who could, or would want to, continue to run the shop.

  His only son, Henry Herbert, then aged 20, was at Cambridge University. He was training as a solicitor but, as we shall see in the next chapter, by this time it would have been obvious to his father that not only was he very unsuited to taking over the Harrods Store dynasty, but he was also very unlikely to marry and have children of his own. He did not seem to want to work at all. This could easily have formed the basis for disagreements between father and son.

  Charles Digby would have been sad and angry that his lifetime’s work was not to be continued within the family. Why go on? At around the same time, in 1889 or 1890, whilst Charles Digby made decisions about retiring and leaving Harrods, he was also making decisions about where the family would live in the future. His eldest daughter Fanny had married in 1887 whilst the family were still living in Sydenham, and Fanny and her husband then moved out to South Norwood, between Bromley and Croydon. His second daughter, Grace, was due to get married in late March 1889.