Bygone Days

and Making dolls house

miniatures
by V Brierley

PUBS, PITS & PRISONS

The
Village I was born in
Described in guidebooks as a village `halfway between
Huddersfield and Wakefield' and having Wakefield
Postal codes and telephone numbers but classified as
Part of Kirk lees, with a cricket club that plays in
Huddersfield Central League, people living in Flock ton,
As well as visitors, might be forgiven for being
Somewhat confused as to whether they are
Huddersfield or Wake fielders.
There is similar confusion surrounding the identity
And origin of settlement of the village. The name
`Flock ton' is of Scandinavian origin and is believed
To mean `Floki's farmstead'.
This suggests that Flock ton was first settled by the
Vikings who came to this country some time in the
Tenth century. However, the suffix `ton' usually
Indicates an Anglo-Saxon settlement. The first half of
This heterogeneous group – the Angles – settled in
Yorkshire from the sixth century onwards (the Saxons
Made the elementary mistake of not coming to
Yorkshire but choosing to settle in the south in places
Like Sussex and Essex).
Like many villages that had been reduced to `waste' it
Took Flock ton many years to recover but by the end of
The thirteenth century, when Edward I was on the
Throne, records show that the village was populated
And that farming was once again underway.
It was also during this time that what
Referred to as `the most significant development in
The medieval life of the Dearne Valley' took place –
The arrival of the Cistercian monks from North
Yorkshire. The monks, with their iron furnaces and
Sheep breeding, encouraged economic and
Population growth in Flock ton and nearby Emley.
Unfortunately for the enterprising monks, the Black
Death struck in the fourteenth century and although it
Did not have the same devastating effect the Norman
Soldiers had had three centuries earlier, the plague did
Cause a significant setback.
Fortunately for the residents of the area, coal mining,
An industry with which the village would later become
Inextricably linked (pair of local coal seams were
Named `Flock ton Thick' and `Flock ton Thin'), had
Begun. Indeed, records show that as early as 1515
Digging of coal was underway in Flock ton and this
Continued on a small scale in the seventeenth and
Eighteenth centuries.
However, the demand for the fuel, a consequence
Of the advent of the steam engine, led to a dramatic
Growth in the industry in the nineteenth century, so
Much so that in 1840 the village was reported to
`Abound’ with mines and just twenty years or so
Whilst the growth in the mining industry meant that
Employment was plentiful, life in the village during
Victorian times was hard for most people; men, women
And children often working long hours in terrible
Working conditions. Flock ton was not the only place
Where working conditions were bad and a team
Government inspectors were dispatched to assess
Working and living conditions in the industrial areas
(This was part of a wider campaign to regulate work in
Flock ton today is one of the many villages in Kirk lees
That enables commuters to combine the benefits of
Working in the city with village life
And with its two pubs, a beautiful church, a post
Office, a village shop, a fish and chip shop, a small
School and fantastic views (Emley Mast can be
seen from almost every point in Flockton and no
doubt Flock toners, given the collapse of the
Previous masts are glad to be looking down on it
From a distance) there is no doubt that Flock ton is
An idyllic village.
Flock ton has, however, not forgotten its past and there
Are reminders of the village's industrial heritage –
Flock ton Working Men's Club and the street named
Manor Drive, the site of the former home of the Milnes-
Stan field family, owners of Lane End Colliery.
Anyone who wants a more enlightening journey
through Flock ton’s past can visit the nearby
National Coal Mining Museum (formerly Caphouse
Colliery) where they will be able to sample what life
Was like for their antecedents; it is believed though
That any miners down this pit are likely to be fully
Clothed!

Now do you remember The head

Bands

MATERIALS:
KNITTING WORSTED, 4 Ply ("Tangle-Proof" Pull-Out Skeins):
I ounce of any color will make both Headbands. Knitting
Needles, I pair No. 8.

GAUGE: Garter St-4sts = 1 inch;

9 rows or 4 1/2 ridges (not stretched) = 1 inch.

Ribbed St-5 sts (not stretched) = 1 inch;

13 rows = 2 inches.
GARTER STITCH BAND
Measure off about 10 inches of yarn and cast on 10 sts.
1st row: Knit. Repeat this row until total length is 16
inches (not stretched). Bind off. Sew short edges
together.

RIB STITCH BAND

Measure off about 1 1/2 yards of yarn and cast on 80 sts.
1st row: * K I, p 1. Repeat from * across. Repeat this
row until total length is 2 inches. Bind off in ribbing.
Sew short edges together.

Rag rug making is one of those crafts that were started by people
who wanted a finished product, but couldn't afford to buy it. It may
be considered highly desirable to improvise attractive, and useful,
things out of scrap materials now; but throughout most of the history
of rag rugs they've been seen as a sure sign of poverty. Not very
desirable at all.

Now that we're living in more democratic times the good old 'peg mat'
has got a lot going for it. They look good, they're cheap to make, they're
fun to make and they're based on recycling.

Their humble origins made them what they are, though, and that's why
they're so practical. Different people developed different working
methods. None of them are right, and none of them are wrong. Most
produce a heavy-duty mat that looks good enough to be kept for a
lifetime, and is tough enough that it can be.

In the days when everything that went into a rag rug had to be free, not
so long ago, the backcloth was usually an old Hessian sack. There are ways
to weave a rag rug without the Hessian backcloth, but most methods still
rely on it.

Hessian, still available off a roll but not often seen as a sack anymore, is
the magic ingredient in most rag rug making. It's a hard thread (jute)
loosely woven. You can poke holes in it all day, if you're bored enough, and
they'll all close up again. The threads move aside without breaking.

To make a rag rug you only need to pull, or push, bits of old cloth into the
weave of the Hessian and they'll fill up the slackness in the weave. By the
time you've finished the loose and floppy Hessian will be firm and taut
and have a thick and soft cloth pile on one side of it.

How you go about putting the bits of cloth in is up to you. There are only
two basic essentials to remember: You have to fill the weave of the
Hessian and you have to protect the edge from fraying.

Inevitably there's a fiddly way to do it for free but, also inevitably,

somebody came up with a tool to make it easy. The free way is to sharpen
a wooden peg and use it to push short strips of cloth into the backcloth,
one at a time. The easy way is using a tool to pull the bits in, in one go.
The tool was invented in early Victorian times (by a Mr. Brown, an Ipswich
blacksmith) and was the favourite rug-maker for about a hundred years,
until re-using old materials went out of fashion after the Second World
War. It wasn't long, of course, before some bright spark came up with
the word 'recycling' and rag rugs were reborn. The rag rug went into a
chrysalis as an ugly
Bug and came out as a beautiful swan. Without genetic modification.

Mr. Brown's invention is now available again, as an updated version, made

by Makings Handicrafts in Cornwall. It's now called a 'rag rugger' to
avoid choosing one of the old popular names, and avoid upsetting everyone
who used one of the many others (anything from a 'badger' to a 'spring
clip', with names starting with most of the letters in between).

There were, of course, other methods and other tools. Most of them
required long strips of cloth, not so easy to get out of old clothes that
have already been repaired, so they were probably started by people who
were already enthusiastic enough about the craft to use bigger pieces of
cloth that might, otherwise, have been used for something else.

One of the alternatives used a hook (it was called 'hooking' believe it or
not) and found it's way across the Atlantic to live the American dream.
You can imagine the story: A tough voyage, in steerage, ending with a
moving view of the Statue of Liberty; followed by a tense wait on Ellis
Island before stumbling, dumbstruck but determined, onto the mean
streets of New York. Finally, hard work and frugality pay off as hooking
is 'discovered' as the all-American craft. As you might expect, rag rug
hooking has been making the return trip ever since; usually-travelling
first class.

Getting back to basics, though, short pieces of cloth make a very thick
rug that is almost irresistibly tactile. Making one isn't just rewarding;
it's also very relaxing.

First of all you're going to need a lot of cloth. Charity shops, jumble sales
and damaged off-cuts solve that problem. Any cloth will do. If you choose
thin cloth you'll need to put in more pieces, to fill up the weave of the
hessian, but the rug will still be strong and practical; and much softer.

Cutting up the cloth can seem a bit daunting, but there's a trick that
makes it quick and easy. Either cut or tear long strips, about 25mm (1")
wide; thin cloth could be cut up to half as wide again. Cloth that will
naturally tear in a straight line is the obvious choice, but cut cloth will
drop a lot less threads. Cutting long strips is quite quick using a rotary
cutter, along a straight edge and on a cutting mat, if you fold the cloth
first.

Of the 'tearing' materials denim makes a very solid rug; thin poly/cotton
makes a very soft one. Poly/cotton dries more quickly when it's washed;
cotton doesn't give off noxious fumes if a hot cinder drops on it. Of the
'cutting' materials knitted wool can be boiled, to felt it, before it's cut
for a solid rug; T-shirts make an incredibly soft rug. The craft is
versatile enough that you can use anything from plastic carrier bags to
leather.

Once you've got your long strips you'll need to cut them into short pieces,
about 75mm (3") long. Cutting up pockets and sleeves with a pair of
scissors is, for a modern person used to instant everything, enough to
make anyone bark at the moon. Using cloth that comes in decent sized
pieces, that will make long strips, solves the problem. Just wrap a long
strip round a cutting gauge and cut along the groove, with sharp scissors,
and the jobs
done. A cutting gauge is a piece of wood with a groove along one side of it.

Having put the cutting problem firmly in its place you can tackle making
the rug; which is almost as easy. You'll need a piece of Hessian about
lOOmm (4") bigger, each way, than the rug you intend to make, to allow
for a hem. There are various grades available, including finely woven even
weave. The traditional backcloth was a sack that had probably been
patched, more than once. You can go for the expensive stuff if you want
to, but the cheap stuff (lOoz sacking Hessian) will do the job well enough.
Virtually all handicraft shops, and many haberdashers, will stock it.

If you're going to use a sharp stick you'll find it easier if you fix the
hessian onto a frame, to keep it taut. If you're going to use a rag rugger
you won't need a frame, you'll find yourself working against the tension,
the easiest way to work is to lay it in your lap.

The general idea is to trap each bit of cloth in the weave of the hessian
so that the middle, of the strip, passes under 2 to 4 strands and both
ends stick up on the topside. If you take up too many strands the weave
won't tighten up enough, especially with thin cloth; if you only take up one
strand it will pull loose.

Putting the bits in won't trouble anyone smart enough to have bought
Crafts Made Easy at all. If you're reading this second-hand in a dentist's
waiting room: face it, it's going to hurt.

If you're using a rag rugger take up 2 to 4 strands in the hessian with the
point and push it through, as far as it will go. Press the lever, to open the
jaw; grab one corner of a piece of cloth and pull it back through until both
ends are the same length, on the top side. Remember to let go. Just keep
on putting more and more bits in; not more than 5 strands away from each
other, in any direction, but not in the same hole again either. Work in
rows if you want to, but it doesn't matter; as long as you fill it up you can
work in any way you want to. If you have difficulty seeing, or like to watch
TV as you work, you can judge spacing with the tip of your finger against
the point.

If you're using a sharpened peg, and a frame, poke a hole in the hessian;
put a corner of the cloth over it and push it through far enough to grab
it, with your fingers, underneath (you'll find you're working from the
back) and pull it halfway through. Then poke another hole 2 to 4 strands
away and poke a hole and push a corner on the other end, of the same
strip, through; and finish the job with your fingers again. Make sure the
ends underneath are, at least roughly, the same length. Put the next bit
in at exactly the same distance as you would if you were using a rugger.

The rugger is, at least, four times faster, you work from the top and you
don't need a frame; but the result is exactly the same with either
method. You can push loops through, from a long strip, with a sharpened
peg and cut them afterwards, with scissors, to get a result that looks the
same; but you end up with two pieces in the same hole, which isn't so
secure. Cloth slides against cloth much more easily than cloth against
hessian.
You won't enjoy cutting all the loops, after a while, either.

Fixing the hem is where rugger and peg part. Using a peg you'll have an
unfilled edge left, when you take the backcloth off the frame. Turn this
underneath and sew, or stick, it to the back.

With the rugger you can turn the hem in, before you start filling, on top.
The rugger will easily pull the bits of cloth through both layers along the
hem; just fill it up and it will be completely secure, and completely hidden.
On the corners, of the backcloth, there will be four layers. The rugger
will still pull the cloth through but it will be harder to push in and out
again, because of the thickness. No problem, just take one end of the
cloth at a time; pushing the rugger from top to bottom and pulling the
cloth back. This means the corners will take twice as long, to fill, but it's
only a small area; and they'll end up puppy-proof.

However you do it, this type of rug doesn't need to be backed; 'though
you can sew a backing on if you want to. You can beat it, vacuum it or wash
it. Washing will make the hessian shrink, which will tighten up the weave
even more; be prepared for a mammoth drying job though.

Because the pile is so deep, about 75mm (1½"), this kind of rug doesn't
lend itself to making a detailed picture. The ends of cloth move about too
much. An obvious picture is fine though, especially if the subject usually
has an indistinct outline; like a shaggy dog or a teddy bear, for instance.
There's also the huge advantage that, as the bits of cloth aren't knotted,
you can dig a point under the fold underneath and pull a piece out and
change it if you want to.

If you like traditional designs an old favourite is a diamond in the middle

in the same dark colour as the hem, with a lighter colour in between. This
pattern appears all over the world and is sometimes explained as being
the 'evil eye’, supposedly made to ward off malicious spirits. It also just
happens to be a very easy pattern to lay out. Just fold the backcloth in
half and crease it, to make a line across the middle. Fold it again, the
other way, and make a second crease. This leaves a centre-line in both
directions. Follow the shorter one with a line of cloth bits, stopping short
of the hems, and then work in rows, on either side, putting in one piece
less at both ends of every row. This makes a diamond. The original row
will be the widest part. The longer crease marks the centre-line where
the points should end up, so you can easily check it as you go along.

Now a Bit on The History of the dolls

house
Miniature homes, furnished with domestic articles and resident
inhabitants, both people and animals, have been made for
thousands of years. The earliest known examples were found in the
Egyptian tombs of the, created nearly five thousand years ago.
These wooden models of servants, furnishings, boats, livestock and
pets placed in the Pyramids almost certainly were made for religious
purposes.
The earliest known European dollhouses were the baby houses from
the Sixteenth Century, which were cabinet display case made up of
rooms. They showed idealized interiors complete with extremely
detailed furnishings and accessories. The cabinets were built with
architectural details and filled with miniature household items and
were solely the playthings of adults. They were off-limits to children,
not because of safety concerns for the child but for the dollhouse.
Such cabinet houses were trophy collections owned by the few
matrons living in the cities of Holland, England and Germany who
were wealthy enough to afford them, and, fully furnished, were
worth the price of a modest full-size house's construction.
Smaller doll houses such as the Tate house, with more realistic
exteriors, appeared in Europe in the 1700s.
The early European dollhouses were each unique, constructed on a
custom basis by individual craftsmen. With the advent of the
Industrial Revolution, factories began mass producing toys,
including dollhouses and miniatures suitable for furnishing them.
German companies noted for their dollhouses included Christian
Hacker, Moritz Gottschalk, Elastolin, and Moritz Reichel. The list of
important English companies includes Siber & Fleming, Evans &
Cartwright, and Lines Brothers (which became Tri-ang). By the end
of the nineteenth century American dollhouses were being made in
the United States by The Bliss Manufacturing Company.
Germany was the producer of the most prized dollhouses and doll
house miniatures up until World War . Notable German miniature
companies included Märklin Rock and Garner and others. Their
products were not only avidly collected in Central Europe, but
regularly exported to Britain and North America. Germany's
involvement in WWI seriously impeded both production and export.
New manufacturers in other countries arose.

The TynieToy Company of Providence, Rhode Island, made authentic

replicas of American antique houses and furniture in a uniform scale
beginning in about 1917. Other American companies of the early
twentieth century were Roger Williams Toys, Tootsietoy, Schoenhut,
and the Wisconsin Toy Co. Dollhouse dolls and miniatures were also
produced in Japan, mostly by copying original German designs.
After World War II, dollshouses became mass produced in factories
on a much larger scale with less detailed craftsmanship than ever
before. By the 1950s, the typical dollhouse sold commercially was
made of painted sheetmetal filled with plastic furniture. Such
houses cost little enough that the great majority of girls from the
developed western countries that were not struggling with
rebuilding after World War II could own one.
The TynieToy Company of Providence, Rhode Island, made authentic
replicas of American antique houses and furniture in a uniform scale
beginning in about 1917. Other American companies of the early
twentieth century were Roger Williams Toys, Tootsietoy, Schoenhut,
and the Wisconsin Toy Co. Dollhouse dolls and miniatures were also
produced in Japan, mostly by copying original German designs.
After World War II, dollshouses became mass produced in factories
on a much larger scale with less detailed craftsmanship than ever
before. By the 1950s, the typical dollhouse sold commercially was
made of painted sheetmetal filled with plastic furniture. Such
houses cost little enough that the great majority of girls from the
developed western countries that were not struggling with
rebuilding after World War II could own one.

As a hobby
Dollhouse items in the scale 1:12.
Dollhouses are available in different forms. From ready-made and
decorated houses to kits to custom built houses made to the
customer's design. Some design and build their own dollhouse.
Simpler designs might consist of boxes stacked together and used
as rooms.
Miniature objects used for decoration inside dollhouses include
furniture interior decorations dolls and items like books and
clocks Some of these are available ready-made, but may also be
homemade.
There are dozens of miniature trade shows held throughout the year
by various miniature organizations, where artisans and dealers
display and sell miniatures. Often, how-to seminars and workshops
are part of the show features. Miniature stores also hold classes.
There are Internet forums, blogs and using other online social media
concentrated in dollhouses and miniatures. Enthusiasts also share
images online.

Dolls and Soft Toys

Dolls and soft toys are often regarded with sentiment as
they are a reminder of childhood days. Some dolls and
doll's houses were never made as playthings but rather as
collector's pieces for adults. They were often accurate
copies of the fashions and architecture of the time. Doll
design itself has evolved as new materials have been
developed but the basic principle of creating a miniature
companion remains.

Wooden Dolls
In Europe the wooden toy making industry evolved from a
rural craft into an organised craft guild. In the 17th century
wood dolls were of the highest quality and were mostly
made from pine. Dolls were hand-carved with mortise and
tenon joints, had painted faces and wore fashionable
clothes.

Dutch Dolls on cards published by Thomas de la Rue

c1903
By the 19th and 20th centuries wood dolls were considered
cheap, throw-away items. Stump dolls which had no legs
were carved from a single piece of wood and painted in
bright colours. A popular development in this period were
the jointed peg woodens with painted faces and feet which
were made in sets of various sizes in the Grodener Tal
region of Austria.

Porcelain Dolls
Three types of porcelain dolls were produced; glazed china,
untinted bisque and bisque. Each head was produced in a
mould and usually fired three times and glazed twice. The
first firing produce the bisque or ‘biscuit’ base and
subsequent firings fused the painted decoration and glazes
on the head. Each mould was used 40 or 50 times before
being discarded. Many German porcelain factories that
produced household items began to manufacture bisque
heads and limbs. Thuringia was the home of many
manufacturers including Simon & Halbig, established in
1869 and Armand Marseille, 1890. Large numbers of doll
heads were exported and attached to bodies at a later date.
Kammer & Reinhardt and Cuno and Otto Dressel used the
heads to produce complete dolls for retail.

My Dolly and I', The Infants Magazine, 1879

France was also a leading doll manufacturer. Jumeau
produced bisque head dolls with jointed composition
bodies. In 1899 the French companies amalgamated to
form the Societe Francaise de Fabrication de Bebes et
Jouets in order to compete with German competition.

Fashion dolls were popular throughout the 19th century and

instead of mis-shapen cloth bodies many were made from
kid to recreate the shapely figure of a young woman
wearing a corset. Porcelain heads often reflected the
fashionable hairstyles of the period but by 1870 moulded
styles were being replaced by hair wigs. Dolls were made
with pierced ears and bisque feet that were moulded and
painted to look like stockings and boots.

Wax Dolls
Wax was originally used to make religious effigies and
votive offerings and the skills of model makers were
brought to London in the 19th century, most notably by the
Montanari and Pierotti families. The dolls head was
modelled in wax or clay and then made into a cast from a
two or three part plaster mould. Molten wax, a blend of
colouring, bleached beeswax and other additives were then
poured into the mould. Manufacturers experimented with
either single layers of wax or multiple layers although the
final thickness was normally no more than 3mm.
Blown or moulded glass eyes were added and the hair,
either mohair or human hair, was inserted into fine cuts or
pin holes. The facial features would then be enhanced by
colouring the mouth and the whole surface of the head
dusted with a fine pumice to remove the shine. Mostly the
heads were shoulder heads that could be attached to the
doll’s body by sew-holes on the shoulder plate. The cloth
bodies were made from calico stuffed with hair or fibres and
often had poured wax lower limbs.

Composition Dolls
The discovery of composition materials enabled
manufacturers to mass produce dolls that were cheaper
and easier to make than carved wood or bisque which
required firing. Pulped wood and paper-based mixtures
could be pressed into moulds making it strong and durable.

Girl with her doll, taken by William H Holliday,

photographer, Winchester, 1899-1907
Manufacturers experimented with mixtures using a variety
of additives such as glue, flour, boiled sawdust, plaster and
anything else to hand. Once dry the head would be covered
in a glutinous wash, painted in water-based, flesh coloured
tones and varnished.
My Dream Baby, made by Armand Marseille, Germany,
c1925 - CRH1972.4
To improve the appearance of the doll even further heads
were coated with a layer of wax. However, as wax and
papier mache expand and contract at different rates the
wax often cracked producing rather gruesome looking dolls.
Composition dolls are often coupled with stuffed cloth or kid
bodies.

Rag Dolls
Traditionally rag dolls have been stuffed with cloth,
sawdust, straw and later kapok. Many were home-made for
children but from about the 1850s rag dolls were produced
commercially and were printed on cloth or had their
features hand painted in oils. Some companies, such as
Steiff and Lenci, began to experiment with stockinet and felt
which was hot-pressed over a mould.

Pierrot doll, made by Lenci, Italy, c1920s

Norah Wellings, who was originally a designer for Chad
Valley, used velvet to create her dolls. Often dolls were
made to represent character types such as the Seven
Dwarfs or as souvenirs such as the velvet sailors that
Norah Wellings created to be sold aboard passenger liners.
you may have to resize this

Church doors
Bull Week and Christmas Eve
It has sometimes been stated that the workmen used to join their money
together for the purpose of purchasing a bull, and that it was killed for Christmas
cheer; and the week before Christmas they worked hard in order to pay for the
bull by their extra labour. When it was killed it was divided amongst them
according to the money they had subscribed, and then a division took place on
Christmas Eve. When Christmas Day happened on Tuesday or Wednesday it
made a good long bull week, for there was no reckoning for work done until
Christmas Eve, so that they had eight, ten, or twelve days' work to reckon for —
if they had not "kick't arr mester a Setterday neet for a two or three shillin' to
carry in wee." It was no uncommon thing for men to work sixteen, eighteen, or
twenty hours a day in the bull week; and the blade-makers have been known to
have the heat ready to pull out of the fire as soon as the clock had struck twelve
on Sunday night. But Mr. —, who lived at the bottom of Broad lane, Bailey lane,
put a restriction upon his men, and gave orders that no man should be permitted
to go into the shop before four o'clock in the morning, nor should work later than
ten o'clock at night, in order that the premises might be closed by eleven. This
was thought by some to be a hardship. The 'prentice lads entered into the spirit
of the times with as much earnestness as their masters; and it frequently
happened that two or three lads were laid fast asleep before or near the smithy
fire on the floor, whilst their masters were laid with their hands upon their arms
at the workboard in the same state — nature requiring a little renovation from
the excess of labour. When the work was finished it was called "getten t'bull by
t'tail." The respectable manufacturers generally reckoned with their men in the
early part of the day, and the "little mesters" when they had "'liver'd" at the
factor's warehouse, which was generally in the evening, they having to undergo
the screw before they got paid for their goods. When Christmas Day happened on
the Wednesday, it made the Market place and thereabout very busy, Tuesday
being the market day, and the night appearing something like a double Saturday
night to many persons. Suppose we take a view of the principal parts and notice
a few circumstances, beginning with the lobby nook (the old Town Hall near the
Church gates). There you would find stalls set out to the best advantage, with
Lord Mayor boots and shoes well dubbined up and made as pliable as the price,
varying according to quality and size. At the bottom of High street you might
have been accommodated with a pair of "leather dicks" (breeches) for either
yourself or 'prentice lad, at Davenport's; or have gone to Ellis Grant's stall at the
top of the market within the chains. You could have found old Milly Lowther's fish
stall at the top of Pudding lane (King street), and Molly Rawson's fish stall, facing
Change alley end; Old-book John selling "Week's Preparation," &c., facing up
High street; and Billy Wright mending old buckles, or matching the one that was
left after one was lost, facing Hartshead; the old women with their meal tubs,
with their great coats and leather pockets, selling meal by the peck; and now and
then a lad saying, "Dame, will yo gie me a bit o' meal if yo pleasen?" — "Aye, lad,
tak thee a bit." Meal was 5d. per peck. New shoe stalls were plentifully arranged
facing the front shops at the top of the Shambles, the dealers crying, "Now, can I
suit you with a pair, they are home-made uns — come, try these on, oi think
they'll about fit you; they looken yore size." The gaol was thronged with visitors
until nine o'clock. There was one prisoner in each room above and below who
solicited the passers-by to "remember the poor prisoners." The one above had a
tin box supported by a string; and the other in the lower room, with his hand
through the window, held a similar box for the low court prisoners. The reader
will not suppose that the streets were brilliantly lighted; and it was with difficulty
a passenger could see his road from one lamp to another. When off market day,
and the shops were closed, and the stalls taken away, the little "pinkning" light of
the oil lamps was disgraceful. At Christmas Eve the pawnbrokers were cried to
get extra hands to assist in taking out the pledges; none were taken in.
We will now pay a visit to the fireside of a decent working man. The beef is
purchased; the wheat for the frumenty is already creed; the yule log is laid on
the fire and reaches a good way up the chimney; the spice is bought for the plum
pudding, and the grocer has given his yule candles according to the worth of his
customer; the mistletoe bough is hung up in the middle of the house (or if that
cannot be obtained, a holly bush is suspended): the Christmas ale barrel is
tapped, and when the husband comes home a "frizzle i't frying pan," and an extra
pint of ale and a pipe of tobacco are allowed, and perhaps the children are
favoured with a taste of frumenty to their suppers, by way of trying how good it
will be in the morning, when "they've gotten t' Jamaica pepper," which has been
forgotten. The children sing "Christians Awake," in anticipation of hearing the
singers in the night; but they were probably so much tired when put to bed that
nothing disturbed them until their usual time of rising, when enquiry was soon
made for the frumenty, and the father and children prepared themselves for
divine service at the church or chapel, whilst the mother remained at home to
make the spice pudding and to cook the dinner. Cards were generally permitted
to be used in most of the public-houses in town; and then the propensity for
gambling presented itself. Swiscoe was the most popular game; but you might be
accommodated with a game at whist or cribbage in a more social corner. Perhaps
at another table were a party at brag or loo; and the bagatelle-table had plenty of
customers. Dominoes were played at "just for an odd quart amang us sens;" but
the guinea club must be paid, or you will have no chance of a draw coming off,
and those who are so fortunate as to get their "chonce" think themselves in good
trim for Christmas holidays.

The mummers on this night began performing, and the characters of St. George,
the Prince of Morocco, Slasher, the Doctor, and the Fool or Merryman, are taken
by boys from twelve to sixteen years. There were other parties of smaller boys
who assumed the same characters, and were dressed in the same manner as the
elder ones — namely, with shirts outside, decorated over with ribbons of various
colours, and swords in their hands, except the doctor (who had a cane), and the
fool (whose face was blackened, and he carried the stump of a besom), who
enters the room with

Open the door as I come in,

I hope your favour I shall win;
But whether I rise or whether I fall,
I'll do my endeavour to please you all.

The poor old horse was exhibited and the song was sung: the "Derby Tup" was
also sung and performed in character. The public houses generally were filled.
The blind fiddler enters, and asks if "Any of you gentlemen are disposed for a
tune?" "Aye, sit thee down, and let's have one." When he had played a little time
he says, "Gentlemen, if you please to let me at liberty as soon as you can: yo
know it's Christmas E'en." "Cum, then, Sam lad; here's moi penny to begin wi."
He goes round, and at last one says, "Here, Sam, here's tenpence hopenny for
thee." "Thank yo, gentlemen."

It is now nine o'clock, when the mourning coaches (men's wives) begin to arrive,
with the youngest in their arms, saying "Cum, lad, art't ommest ready for
cummin hooam; oi think it's ommost time." "Prothee sit thee down a bit, on oi'll
goa with thee. Here, oud lass, tae this chair. Here, cum, sup. Now, will yo hay a
bit a bacca?" "Way, oi ne'er mind havin a bit while e stop. Thou'll happen not be
long, wit a?" "Sit thee down, lass, an oi'll goa wi thee." One mourning coach
comes after another till all the vacant seats are occupied in the room (this is not
the card room, but the club room). At last it is proposed that as the women are
there they ought to have something better than common ale, and a tankard of
"huddle me buff" (hot ale and rum) is ordered, which comes in a quart pitcher,
and a glass with it. It is pronounced very good, and another is ordered, and
perhaps another, till it gets near twelve o'clock, when they seem anxious to
depart; but the landlord says, "Nay, concarn it, you moant go whoile you've hed
moi quart. Christmas comes but once a year." "Come, then, we're like to sit us
down ageean a bit," until

"Grace's cheeks were like the rising sun,

And Ann felt warm within."

But the mourning coaches return pretty well loaded, and the owner of the coach
accompanied it, well satisfied with its appearance and behaviour.

Horse and Cart Deliveries and Street Traders

The milkman would have two large churns and one small serving churn. You had to
take your jug to the cart, he would ladle a pint or half pint if required. They had spot
check milk inspections to check if the milk had been watered. There was a stiff fine if
water was found in the milk. It was said at the time that Tom Stark did not like
doctors. He broke his foot once and was walking around with a large sack tied around
it for weeks. To let you know he was in the street he would cry "Hey roo! Hey roo!"
You would hear it from inside. Kirk Goad's round was in the Newport area, Duckpool
Road etc. On his way home he'd call in St Julians pub leaving the horse outside. The
horse sometimes would get fed up, come home with the cart on his own and stop
outside the house in Cecil Terrace. His horse was kept in Forge Farm fields, Mr Lewis
was the farmer. Tom Edwards' horse was kept in the fields near the racecourse. It was
a white horse. We used to call him White Knight. Bill Sweet, one of the local lads
used to ride him at times from the bake house to the fields.
Then there were the horse drawn rag and bone merchant carts. Kids used to ask their
mums for any jam jars or rags. The man would give a couple of coppers. They'd be
smiling all the way to the sweet shop.
Onion sellers came around with a couple or more strings of onions on the handlebars
of their bicycles.
You'd very often see a chimney sweep carrying his rods and brushes on his shoulder
whilst riding his bike.
Two brothers, the "Sadlers", started their drapery business with a bicycle. They would
carry the cloths in a suitcase on their rounds. You could take the cloth on trial. If it
was suitable you could hire purchase for as little as a shilling (5p) a week. Eventually
they opened a shop on the corner of Station Road. They were there for years until they
moved on to Cwmbran.
The umbrella man and the knife and scissor grinder were around at least once a week.
Hence the song: "Any umbrellas any umbrellas to fix today?" He would mend them
all and go on his way. The knife grinder would pedal his bike on a stand attached to a
grindstone and sharpen away. Kids would stand around and watch his work. Still in
the 20s and 30s I must remind you again, most of these lines are written with thought
of when we were children and seeing things from a child's point of view. Any old
Caerleon 'Fly' as we were known will most likely remember similar stories.
Homes
No bathroom in the house in most areas. You just had to use the old tin bath. Before
gas was installed you could heat the water in the iron boiler in the washhouse heated
by coal underneath. Pour the water into the bath with a couple of buckets of cold
water and get on with it. We had a gas boiler and a long tin bath. We could put the
bath under the tap of the boiler and cool the water with buckets from the kitchen tap.
The same water was used for more than one bath. Then we could wash the back yard
down with it. Outside toilet. Toilet paper made from newspaper cut in shape and hung
on a nail in the wall.
Shining brass doorknockers clean scrubbed front steps, brass stair rods, scrubbed
passage and kitchen all in a day's work for the housewife. Scrubbing board and
washtub was your washing machine with an aching bad back to go with it. Gas iron
heated on the gas to do the ironing. You needed one to use and one to heat. (That's
where the saying: "A woman's work is never done" came from.) Hand me down
clothes for the kids, most families had about 4 to 7 children.
Not many people had a wireless. Lucky if you had a wind up gramophone. Redifusion
if you were lucky. It was a speaker with two stations only. Two shillings and sixpence
a week (12½p).
Your ashes from the fire with any other rubbish was put outside the house in any old
type of container. Broken bucket with a piece of cardboard in the bottom to stop the
ashes falling through the hole. As everyone had coal fires most rubbish could be
burned. It was nothing to see a fire in someone's back garden burning anything from
garden rubbish to an old mattress and the like. Not if anyone had their washing out
though.
The ash tip as we used to call it was situated along the Usk Road just near Mr Curle's
Garage, just past the Gas Works Lane. Houses have been built there. Maybe they
don't know there was a tip there all those years ago. You had to look out for the coal
man although he would call out, "Any coal." The baker would just knock on your
door.
People all round Caerleon always seemed to be busy. Painting the houses like Cecil
Terrace with their bay windows every house a different colour. People cleaning their
windows, couldn't afford to pay a window cleaner. Scrubbing the front steps or a half
circle by your front door if you had no steps. Cleaning brass door knobs and knockers.
If you looked down the gardens you'd see washing lines, washing blowing in the
wind. All done by hand and scrubbing board. If there was no washing out it wouldn't
be long before a garden fire would be smoking. Burning rubbish to the delight of the
person burning it as he may have waited the chance for some time.
A lot of fathers would repair the families' shoes themselves. Most had their own shoe
lass. You could buy enough leather and tin tacks from the 'L for Leather' shop in Dock
Street Newport for one shilling (5p). Flat studs were nailed into the soles and metal
plates around the heels to make them last. If you were lying in bed in the front room
of the house you could very often hear the women walk down the pavement with their
shoes making 'clip, clop, clip, clop' sounds as they passed your house. Also men with
hobnails on their boots on the way to work.
People, neighbours were so friendly. Always helping one another. If someone was ill,
it wouldn't be long before some sort of treat was brought in, like a dish of soup or a
rice pudding or an offer to do some shopping. You knew most people in Caerleon.
Anyway if you had a bad chest you'd get goose grease rubbed in. Senna tea was the
treatment if you were constipated or Epsom salts, Beecham's pills. Most mothers
knew what to do in those cases no national health I know maybe this hasn't a lot to do
with Caerleon but that's village life in those days.
There were about 100 allotment gardens between Lodge Road below the railway
bridge to the side of the football ground near where the school is now. A standing
joke: "A lot meant, little done." But not true the men were hard at work growing their
own vegetables. "Dig for Victory" was the slogan of the war days. It was nothing to
see someone pushing a wheelbarrow with tools or full of manure. Plenty of that about
in the early days, say 20s or 30s. Even the school had their own garden. Some of the
boys would take their turn to work in the garden weeding and the like if they weren't
in the sports field or woodwork. They'd often be given a bunch of spring onions or
lettuce to take home. Pinch a couple of apples if they had the chance, still in the early
thirtees mind.
A family of gypsies lived in a horse drawn caravan in a field near the back of the
Tanhouse farm, good people, seven boys: Isaac, Richie, Ivor, Joseph, Douglas, Len
and Nicky the youngest. Ivor made a bet one day that he'd carry one hundredweight of
coal up the Blackash Path - that's the steep hill from Ashwell in Ultra Pontem to
Christchurch. He won his bet. I remember Nicky when he was a baby the same time
as my young brother they were entered in a baby show at one of the fetes. Nicky won
first prize, this about 1926. There was another caravan of the same type along the Usk
Road opposite Gibbons' timber yard. A man and his wife lived there for years I think
his name was Miller. He used to walk to work and back from there to a quarry over
Lliswerry over Newport. He was very tall and smart with it, walked mostly down the
centre of the road. His boots always seemed to have white lime on them, it may have
been a lime quarry. They had their little garden flowers around the static caravan. No-
one bothered them and they did not bother anyone. Whatever happened to them I'll
never know. At one time the sidewalk i.e. footpath on the Usk Road was made up
with ashes from some works. You could go along and pick up lumps of coke. Wood
could be collected from along the side of the river. It was nothing to see someone
carrying a log on his shoulder, remember we are still in the 20s, large families small
pay packets.
These lines just explain the way we were. If there was a knock on the wall you knew
that your next door neighbour and friend was telling you to come around for a cup of
tea and a piece of home-made cake.
Wartime
The Tin Works and Brick Works employed many of the local lads. Although many
would be on the dole. Getting toward 1939. The war was looming. The ammunition
factory was being built at Glascoed, Usk and Dinham just north of Caerwent.
Then the time when Mr. Chamberlain Prime Minister arrived after he met Hitler with
his piece of paper held high, "Peace in our time." But it never happened. Many lads
had their call up papers, medical examinations and away to one of the services. Those
who did not go were working in a reserved occupation. Blackout, everyone had to
hang black curtains in their windows, no lights in the street. If anyone showed a light
someone would shout: "Put that light out!" L.D.V. (Local Defence Volunteers)
became Home Guard just like the film 'Dad's Army'. Fire Wardens, everyone did their
bit. The people of Caerleon took in evacuees from London. Children mothers as well
all would mix and help each other and enjoy doing it. One thing about Londoners -
they like their fish and chips. Food rations, everyone had a ration card. Bacon, butter,
meat, cheese, sugar, almost everything. The older men would work on their allotments
and grow a lot of food. Some people even grew tobacco to try and make their own
cigs. There were pig clubs. People would get together and keep a couple of pigs.
Collect peeling and waste food to feed them. Mrs. Waters in Arthur Street had a
couple of pigs in a sty in her back garden. I remember seeing a couple of sides of
bacon hanging in her front room. Quite a few people kept chickens in their back
gardens. Christmas dinner was assured, plus plenty of eggs. You could put them in a
large container of water glass and they would keep a long time.
When the war ended the boys came home. The local football team had lost their good
players to the forces. They thought now they were coming home they would have the
players back and be top of the league again. Not so, the players were now five years
older and I'm afraid not very good.

Lodge Hill
No council houses had been built during the war. People wanted somewhere to live.
Army camps were closed. People decided to squat in them. The government then
decided to organise distribution of these camps and allowed the councils to take them
over. The gunsite on the Lodge Farm was one. £10 was spent doing each house up.
People of Caerleon were moved in at a rent of 7s 6d (37½p) per week. A coal fire
oven stove was put in, water and electric and they made the best of it. The ones in the
army soldiers' wooden huts were happy they put their furniture in, polished lino on the
floor. Some had ex-officers' quarters they felt lucky. They all had their little gardens.
George Phillips used to keep chickens. Mrs Teague had a large family of lovely
children; Mr and Mrs John Barker; my brother Edgar Turner and family; and myself
and Doreen. Our house used to be the ablutions. There was a cast iron bath round the
back we had to walk around the outside of the building to get to it. We found an old
boiler and fixed that up and my brother who was a carpenter put duckboards on the
floor. It was lovely having a bath in there with a coal fire going. Inside the house the
rooms were partitioned off with plasterboards. They didn't go right to the roof though,
if you stood on a chair you could see over them. There was a kitchen, bedroom, sitting
room and storeroom. At the time we thought it was Heaven, we wanted to stay
forever. Eventually everyone had moved on to a prefab or house and the camp closed
demolished and houses now stand there. But I'm sure if you asked some of those
people mentioned they would tell you how well everyone got on together. Sadly
there's not many of us left. But the children may remember some of the times. In
those days people knew nearly everyone by name. The memories in the books of
Caerleon should be cherished forever. Times have moved on. But still friends and
families of those days send one another Christmas cards every year. Those good old
days don't sound so good to young people today, with washing machines, fridges,
microwaves, vacuum cleaners, hot and cold water, carpets, bathrooms makes them
wonder why they were good days.

I hope you enjoy what I have put together for you to read
Please let me know what you think

vera