Reading 19th-century non-fiction

Reading an older text without translating every word

A nineteenth-century text was written in the 1800s. Its vocabulary, punctuation or assumptions may feel unfamiliar, but the central reading task remains manageable: establish who is speaking, what is happening and what the words suggest about the speaker’s experience or attitude.

AQA Paper 2 Section A pairs two linked unseen sources: one from the nineteenth century and one from either the twentieth or twenty-first century. They include non-fiction and literary non-fiction. Both concern real subjects, but neither should automatically be treated as neutral: writers select details and may use vivid description to influence readers.

Paper 2 lasts 1 hour 45 minutes; its reading section carries 40 marks across four questions worth 4, 8, 12 and 16 marks. Reading assesses AO1, AO2 and AO3: understanding and interpreting information, analysing writers’ methods, and comparing ideas and perspectives. This lesson develops the comprehension needed before tackling those individual questions.

Let the form help you understand the voice

Before reading closely, check the introduction, title and date. These can establish whether you are encountering a personal account, a public argument or evidence collected by someone else.

A letter addresses a recipient. A greeting, direct address and sign-off can help identify the relationship between writer and reader. A letter to a friend may share feelings; a letter to an official may explain a problem and request action. For example, an opening such as ‘Sir, I write to request…’ signals a formal relationship and a particular purpose, rather than a private conversation.

A diary commonly records dated experiences and personal reflections. An entry beginning ‘Monday. I returned home exhausted…’ places events in time and foregrounds the writer’s experience. Its first-person voice can reveal immediate feelings, but personal writing is still selective rather than a complete record of everything that happened.

Journalism addresses a public readership. Headlines and openings may foreground the main issue, while reporting, description and comment can work together to shape readers’ responses. An opening that gives a place, event and date may prioritise information; one that begins with an alarming personal incident may first seek an emotional response.

A report organises information about a subject for an audience that needs to understand it. Headings, numbered entries and recorded testimony may help readers locate evidence. In the mining evidence below, ‘No. 14’ and Isabella’s age and occupation identify a particular witness. An official-looking layout does not make every statement impartial: distinguish a witness’s words from the recorder’s comments.

These conventions are clues, not guarantees. A letter can be intended for publication, and a diary can be revised for readers. Establish purpose and perspective from the actual wording as well as the form.

Two accounts of working underground

The following extracts share a subject—coal mining—but offer different perspectives. George Orwell’s The Road to Wigan Pier, published in 1937, describes what he observed when visiting mines. The 1842 Children’s Employment Commission investigated working conditions; the second extract records evidence from Isabella Read, a twelve-year-old coal-bearer.

Source A: George Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier (1937), Chapter 2 — selected passages

When you go down a coal-mine it is important to try and get to the coal face when the 'fillers' are at work. This is not easy, because when the mine is working visitors are a nuisance and are not encouraged, but if you go at any other time, it is possible to come away with a totally wrong impression. On a Sunday, for instance, a mine seems almost peaceful. The time to go there is when the machines are roaring and the air is black with coal dust, and when you can actually see what the miners have to do. At those times the place is like hell, or at any rate like my own mental picture of hell.

When you have finally got there—and getting there is a job in itself: I will explain that in a moment—you crawl through the last line of pit props and see opposite you a shiny black wall three or four feet high. This is the coal face. Overhead is the smooth ceiling made by the rock from which the coal has been cut; underneath is the rock again, so that the gallery you are in is only as high as the ledge of coal itself, probably not much more than a yard. The first impression of all, overmastering everything else for a while, is the frightful, deafening din from the conveyor belt which carries the coal away. You cannot see very far, because the fog of coal dust throws back the beam of your lamp, but you can see on either side of you the line of half-naked kneeling men, one to every four or five yards, driving their shovels under the fallen coal and flinging it swiftly over their left shoulders. They are feeding it on to the conveyor belt, a moving rubber belt a couple of feet wide which runs a yard or two behind them. Down this belt a glittering river of coal races constantly. In a big mine it is carrying away several tons of coal every minute. It bears it off to some place in the main roads where it is shot into tubs holding half a ton, and thence dragged to the cages and hoisted to the outer air.

Source B: evidence to the Children’s Employment Commission (Mines), 1842 — Isabella Read’s entry

No. 14— Isabella Read, 12 years old, coal-bearer

Works on mother's account, as father has been dead two years. Mother bides at home, she is troubled with bad breath, and is sair weak in her body from early labour. I am wrought with sister and brother, it is very sore work; cannot say how many rakes or journeys I make from pit's bottom to wall face and back, thinks about 30 or 25 on the average; the distance varies from 100 to 250 fathom.

I carry about 1 cwt. and a quarter on my back; have to stoop much and creep through water, which is frequently up to the calves of my legs. When first down fell frequently asleep while waiting for coal from heat and fatigue.

I do not like the work, nor do the lassies, but they are made to like it. When the weather is warm there is difficulty in breathing, and frequently the lights go out.

Work out unfamiliar vocabulary from its surroundings

Some unfamiliar words are technical terms rather than simply old-fashioned English. Orwell explains the coal face directly: it is the exposed wall of coal being worked. His description also shows that the fillers shovel fallen coal onto the conveyor belt.

Other meanings emerge from actions. Coal is ‘hoisted to the outer air’: the movement from underground to outside helps you understand hoisted as lifted. Thence means from there. You can follow the sequence—belt, tubs, cages, surface—without knowing every detail of mining equipment.

Isabella’s evidence includes regional language. Bides means stays or lives; sair means sore or very; lassies means girls. In ‘I am wrought with sister and brother’, the surrounding references to journeys and carrying coal indicate that she works alongside her siblings. These forms preserve features of the spoken testimony; they do not make its meaning inaccessible.

The units are older too: cwt. is hundredweight, a unit of weight, and a fathom is a unit of length. Here, the important distinction is that Isabella gives the load carried separately from the distance travelled. Keep ‘about’ when explaining the weight: she is giving an approximate amount.

A useful sequence is to identify the word’s role, look for surrounding clues, propose a meaning and reread. For example, Orwell’s ‘deafening din’ concerns something heard; ‘deafening’ and the conveyor belt point towards an extremely loud noise.

Find the main action inside a long sentence

Older non-fiction can contain formal register, a delayed main clause, interruptions and chains of clauses joined by semicolons. These are possible features, not rules for every nineteenth-century writer. Isabella’s recorded speech is much less formal than some other evidence in the same report.

A long sentence is usually several connected pieces of meaning, not one problem to solve all at once. Find its subject and main verb, temporarily set aside added details, then restore them to understand the full meaning.

Orwell’s sentence beginning ‘When you have finally got there’ contains an interruption between dashes. Temporarily set that aside and the main action becomes clearer: you crawl through the pit props and see the coal face. Return to the interruption afterwards: reaching this point is itself difficult. The added comment makes the journey part of the hardship, not merely background to it.

In Isabella’s sentence beginning ‘I carry about 1 cwt. and a quarter on my back’, the first main action is carrying a load. After the semicolon, the implied subject remains ‘I’: she must stoop and creep through water. The final clause adds the water’s depth, which frequently reaches her calves. The clauses combine burdens rather than describe separate, easy activities, helping explain why she calls the work ‘very sore’.

For a more formal nineteenth-century example, consider another witness in the commission’s evidence. Thomas Wilson was an owner of three collieries, or coal mines.

Further evidence from 1842: Thomas Wilson — selected paragraph

I object on general principles to government interference in the conduct of any trade, and I am satisfied that in mines it would be productive of the greatest injury and injustice. The art of mining is not so perfectly understood as to admit of the way in which a colliery shall be conducted being dictated by any person, however experienced, with such certainty as would warrant an interference with the management of private business. I should also most decidedly object to placing collieries under the present provisions of the Factory Act with respect to the education of children employed therein. First, because, if it is contended that coal-owners, as employers of children, are bound to attend to their education, this obligation extends equally to all other employers, and therefore it is unjust to single out one class only; secondly, because, if the legislature asserts a right to interfere to secure education, it is bound to make that interference general; and thirdly, because the mining population is in this neighbourhood so intermixed with other classes, and is in such small bodies in any one place, that it would be impossible to provide separate schools for them.

Wilson’s final sentence depends on his previous statement that he objects to the education provisions. Read it as three reasons, signalled by ‘First’, ‘secondly’ and ‘thirdly’; the semicolons separate those stages.

In the first stage, set aside ‘because, if it is contended that coal-owners, as employers of children, are bound to attend to their education’. The central claim arrives later: ‘this obligation extends equally to all other employers’. The opening condition means: if mine owners must attend to children’s education. Restoring it gives the argument: if mine owners have this duty, other employers should have it too. His conclusion is that singling out mine owners is unfair.

Formal words become clearer through this argument: obligation means duty, legislature refers to the law-making body, and therein means in those mines. Wilson’s ordered reasons and formal register make his objection sound reasoned and authoritative. Understanding the sentence lets you assess his argument rather than simply accept its confident tone.

Move from information to a supported inference

First establish what is explicit. Isabella carries coal, stoops, moves through water and dislikes the work. An inference goes further, but must remain anchored to those details.

To work out what her evidence suggests about her experience, build the interpretation in stages:

1. Choose a relevant detail: she falls asleep while waiting for coal.
2. Check its explanation: the testimony attributes this to ‘heat and fatigue’.
3. Draw a supported conclusion: conditions underground leave her physically exhausted.
4. Add a distinct idea: ‘they are made to like it’ suggests pressure to accept work the girls dislike, rather than genuine enjoyment.

The first inference follows from a stated cause of tiredness. The second follows from the contrast between disliking the work and being ‘made’ to accept it. That wording suggests limited choice, but does not identify exactly who applies the pressure.

Read viewpoints critically

Orwell combines observable details with personal judgement. The kneeling workers, restricted space and coal dust describe conditions; ‘like hell’ expresses his response to them. His qualification, ‘my own mental picture’, openly identifies the comparison as subjective. It encourages readers to imagine the mine as intensely unpleasant rather than merely an unfamiliar workplace.

His Sunday remark is a contrast, not an account of a Sunday visit. He warns that a mine can seem ‘almost peaceful’ when work is not taking place. This prepares readers to trust the working-time description as a fuller picture of the miners’ experience.

Isabella’s entry moves between ‘Works’, ‘I’ and ‘thinks’. It is recorded testimony, not a continuous passage composed by Isabella herself. Her reported words ‘I do not like the work’ clearly express her attitude; the heading and third-person phrasing organise that experience for readers of the report. Her age, physical burdens and exhaustion can encourage concern for a child worker without an elaborate comparison such as Orwell’s ‘hell’.

Wilson’s perspective differs again. As a mine owner, he objects to government interference, describing it as ‘injury and injustice’. Those evaluative nouns encourage readers to see regulation as harmful and unfair. His position may help explain his emphasis on private business, but it does not by itself prove that every claim he makes is false. Check the reasoning and evidence: in this paragraph he asserts that separate schools would be impossible, rather than demonstrating that conclusion with detailed evidence.

This is how to recognise bias without dismissing a text. Ask what the speaker foregrounds, what language asks you to approve or condemn, and whether a claim is supported. A personal viewpoint can still communicate genuine experience; an official report can contain interested or prejudiced viewpoints.

For understanding the physical experience of mining, Isabella’s concrete actions and Orwell’s descriptions are directly relevant. For understanding objections to regulation, Wilson’s argument is more relevant. Usefulness depends on the reading purpose, not on declaring one source universally better than another.

The main extracts allow different, connected responses. A reader might emphasise the workers’ effort; another might emphasise harmful conditions. Both can be justified by evidence. Neither supports the claim that Isabella enjoys mining. Likewise, her testimony describes one worker’s experience: it does not establish that every child in every mine had identical conditions.

Carry the method into the examination

For an initial reading, establish the shared subject and each source’s situation. For a closer reading, return to the exact passage relevant to the question. A focused scan can locate a name, action or detail; careful rereading is needed to interpret a difficult sentence or attitude.

Useful sentence starters include:

• ‘The statement that … establishes …’
• ‘This suggests … because …’
• ‘The word … presents the experience as …’
• ‘Both accounts describe …, but the perspectives differ because …’

Use only the starter that fits the task. Your short reading checklist is: identify the voice; establish the main action; resolve important unfamiliar words; distinguish statement from inference; check the evidence against the question.