Memories of Barnsley Issue 27

www.memoriesofbarnsley.co.uk

Still, everyone seemed to be in a writing mood and we had a great response to our ‘photograph competition’ page. The memories of people who lived there or visited, certainly brought ‘colour’ to the old buildings that would otherwise stare blandly out of the page. I hope we can get a similar response for the photograph competition in this issue.

Following on from last issue, we once again take a look at the Barnsley canal – this time the section from Smithies Lane to the aqueduct. This stretch has some wonderful photographs, like the one used on the front cover. It’s amazing how much this area has changed. In an effort to help readers see what they are looking at in the photographs, we’ve included a map that indicates the direction in which the photograph was taken with a little arrow. I hope this helps you figure out what and where you are looking – it certainly helped me.

To order Telephone: 01226 734689

I was discussing with Don Booker which car we could feature in this issue and we came up with the Volkswagen Beetle. Don remembered meeting Ivan Hirst, the man responsible for bringing the car to the masses after the Second World War, during his days as a motoring correspondent. Ivan Hirst was also featured in a recent BBC Four programme Das Auto: The Germans, Their Cars And Us. It seemed strange watching something on television that we’d just put together for Memories of Barnsley!

This issue Brian Elliott takes a look at the Barnsley Main Pit where the remaining buildings have now become ‘listed’ thus ensuring their preservation as a landmark of Barnsley’s industrial heritage. He also looks at The Oaks colliery that was in close proximity, and was one of the most troubled pits in British coalmining history.

I wont be making any weather predictions for this autumn ... but if you are stuck indoors feel free to jot down any memories of bygone days or dig out some old photographs to tell a story and send them to me either by email or post.

For the benefit of our overseas readers, I’ll leave you with a photograph of the fountains outside the new Experience Barnsley Museum in the Town Hall.

Paul Wilkinson Editor editor@whmagazines.co.uk

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Well it turned out to be a nicer summer than I had predicted in the last issue. There I was expecting everyone to be looking through their old photos whilst it was raining outside, and instead everyone was out sunbathing!

Old Barnsley A view of the past

Has an extensive collection of images of Yorkshire,showing local towns and villages of the early 1900s

Old Barnsley is a unique stall with over 6000 images of Yorkshire towns and villages taken in the early 1900s.Of particular interest are the buildings and shops long since faded away,which may rekindle fond memories of bygone days.Other subjects include: canals,collieries,industries,armed forces,royal visits and other social events.We may have something which is right up your street. As well as photographs we stock a wide range of local books and magazines;along with commemorative plates,coal figures and other mining memorabilia.

Perhaps we have a view you would like mounted in a frame.You may also bring your own picture or postcard that you would like us to enlarge or frame.

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NEW BOOK

6 Barnsley Canal –

Part two

Mark Green follows the canal from Smithies Lane to the aqueduct over the River Dearne.

12 Gem from the Archives

Paul Stebbing, BMBC’s Archives and Local Studies Manager, examines an eighteenth century ledger documenting road repairs in Cawthorne.

14 Barnsley Main and the Oaks Colliery

Brian Elliott considers the history of two pits which occupied almost the same site. One long gone with a troubled history, and the other which has been saved for posterity.

14 A drink around town

John Threlkeld looks at a selection of pubs, some with character and others with fitted carpets.

24 Photograph competition

26 Celebrating the Coronation 1937

Katie Seaman looks at how the town celebrated.

28 Barnsley and its street names

Phil Norman looks at the early days of the town and some of the street names that have survived through to the present day

30 The VW Beetle

Don Booker recalls a motoring invader.

34 Readers’ page Comments and memories from our readers.

42 Readers’ story

Philip Firth describes his experiences of growing up in Blacker Hill during the 1940s.

46 Barnsley drayman killed at Smithies

The unsual story of a man who was mistakenly identified has having died, only to then actually die in an accident some days later.

PART TWO

BARNSLEY CANAL

In 1792 a leading Aire & Calder Navigation proprietor,John Smyth proposed the building of a waterway stretching from Barnby Basin near Cawthorne to Heath Lock in Wakefield at a cost of £60,000.Part two of this remarkable feat of engineering continues in this issue as Mark Green follows the canal from Smithies Lane to the aqueduct over the River Dearne.

From Smithies Lane the canal passed under a small humped bridge towards a now wellestablished, industrialised Barnsley.

The canal’s impact on the local economy can be measured by the array of industries and

THE CANAL looking towards Honeywell area. The Keel Inn is on the left. This stretch of towpath must have been well used judging by the provision of a gas street lamp at the junction of the two paths.

THIS ROW of houses on Honeywell Lane can be seen in the old photograph. A stone engraving on the wall reads ‘Honeywell Mount Cottages 1885’.

homes that were encouraged to set up by the natural outlet the canal provided.

Walking along the canal from Smithies Lane the canal passed by the Keel Inn public house on Canal Street. The inn no doubt provided the travellers with an eighteenth century version of a motorway service station. Unfortunately there is not much recorded history of the Keel,

although public records suggest it was built in 1825, no doubt born out of necessity for the weary traveller. Early canallers were certainly well known for their transient lifestyle and rowdy behaviour. Dougie Christmas, the current landlord, describes how the pub’s back room – the now small pool room was used as a makeshift morgue for the unfortunate souls who drowned

in the canal. The architecture of the Keel Inn itself was a little different back then with just a simple two storey and an adjacent single storey building. The bar was immediately opposite the door running towards the back with a serving hatch behind that served the snug upstairs.

Moving along the canal past the Keel Inn, the towpath ran underneath Old Mill Lane Bridge

Low

SMITHIES LANE bridge, looking towards

Barugh.

LOOKING UP Smithies Lane. The canal passed under this bridge on its way towards town.

THE DERELICT canal still retains some water in this photograph. It appears it had become a dumping ground for all sorts of detritus. The Keel Inn stands alongside.

THE KEEL Inn as it looks today. An interesting contrast with the photograph on the left and the one below.

A CROWDof happy people embark at Old Mill Lane Bridge. Probably an outing from a local church or chapel, c1940. The barge is of rivetted iron construction that was typical of the early 1900s.

OLD MILL BASIN with Harborough Hills Road Bridge at the end. The two chimneys belong to Redfearns Glass Works. The row of houses are still there today. PC World now stands in the area of the basin.

THE KEEL Inn

with a row of terraced houses on the right leading up to the main road. To the left just before the bridge was the Star Paper Mill wharf. The line of the canal then passes through the Old Mill Basin where PC World now stands. Remnants of the canal still remain in the car park of PC World. The wall at the back of the car park is what remains of the wharf in the Old Mill Basin. The original mooring rings can still be seen along the wall.

Harborough Hill Bridge is the next landmark, these days it is the town’s eastern relief road. Beyond Old Mill Lane and Harborough Hill Road the canal ran at the back of Twibell Street servicing Redfearns glass works. Transporting glassware by cart or road provided the obvious drawbacks, opposite to the smooth transport the canal provided. The massive warehouses and cranes of Redfearns ran alongside the canal.

IN THE car park of PCWorld are the remains of the wharf wall on the site of the former Old Mill Basin. The mooring rings are still in place.

STAR PAPER MILL wharf on the left and Old Mill Lane bridge in the distance. The houses of Canal Street can be seen on the right leading up to the main road.

Whilst the canal worked well for industry it proved a hazard for many, particularly children. It was quite common for children in times past to roam far from the family home and the canal was often a popular attraction. The

Barnsley Chronicle has printed many stories of survival and tragedy of adults and children who fell into the canal. It seemed it was also a place to commit suicide.

The waterway eased itself out of the town and towards the aqueduct which would take it across the River Dearne and the railway towards Cundy Cross. The aqueduct was the junction of two canals. A stop lock divided the Barnsley Canal from the Dearne and Dove canal which carried straight on towards Hoyle Mill. At the junction of these canals stood the lengthsman's house. A lengthsman was responsible for a particular length of the canal. Many lived in isolated cottages, sometimes close to a lock, where their duties would include acting as a lock keeper and managing water levels by the control of weirs. They were also responsible for repair and maintenance of the banks in their ‘length’, which might include cutting reeds and vegetation, and the treading of puddle clay into sections of the bank which were weak or suffering from leakage.

As the Barnsley Canal bears left it reaches its architectural peak on the waterway, the aqueduct over the River Dearne. Originally an embankment with one thirty foot arch for the river

Attempted suicide

‘On Sunday last, a very determined attempt to commit suicide was made at Barnsley. A man named Michael McCulligan, who has been drinking for some weeks, threw himself into the canal near Old Mill. He was observed by some persons, who dragged him out and took him to a house in the Gas Nook, where he was put to bed and necessary medicines were administered to him. He had not been long to bed, when persons in the house were alarmed by hearing a groan. On proceeding up stairs it was found that the man was trying to strangle himself with a handkerchief. He was removed to the workhouse.’

Barnsley Record, July, 1864.

THE WHARF belonging to Refearns lies derelict in this photograph. The picture is taken from underneath the Harborough Hill Road Bridge.

A SIMILAR view today as the one below, looking towards Harbrough Hills road.

LOOKING BACK towards Harborough Hill Road Bridge and the Old Mill Basin from the stretch of canal behind Twibell Street.

A STEEL-CONSTRUCTED tanker barge with a cargo of petrol. The Old Mill Bridge is in the background.

Canal Street

Old Mill Bridge

Stop lock and the Dearne and Dove Canal which went on towards Hoyle Mill.

Canal Rescue

Barnsley Canal turned here to go over the aqueduct.

had been envisaged but the Woolley Edge Rock was found to outcrop on both sides of the valley and the engineer, Jessop, decided to construct a masonry aqueduct of five majestic thirty foot arches. This monument to

the canal builder’s art cost £1,547 and was used as the company logo on toll tickets and other paperwork.

In 1954 the council declared the aqueduct to be unsafe and they destroyed the five arches leaving only the piers. A wooden walkway was laid across the piers which is still in use today.

PROMPT ACTION BYa Barnsley Post Office messenger boy, who was cycling to work after delivering a message, led to a canal rescue at Old Mill on 7 November 1946. Seeing a four year old Barnsley girl fall into the canal, Donald Rotherton aged 16 of 36 Croft Road, Kendray, jumped over the bridge, ran along the bank plunged into the canal and brought her to the side. Men working nearby were unable to render any assistance because of the wire netting between them and the bank, and were obliged to stand by helpless whilst the girl was brought out. Donald, a former pupil of Ardsley Oaks Secondary Modern School, has since received a letter from the Chief Constable complimenting him upon his timely action.

Lily, the rescued girl, is one of five daughters of Mr and Mrs John Beverley, 2 Canal Street, Barnsley, and apart from deafness has almost recovered.

LOOKING TOWARDS the aqueduct and the Dove and Dearne stop lock. This is the only stretch of canal that still remains in the section covered by this article.

Barnsley Dearne and Dove Canal Trust are looking for new members in an effort to restore sections of the canal. For further information telephone 01226 743382 or email enquiries@bddct.org.uk

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The Forgotten Canals of Yorkshire by Roger Glister. Aspects of Barnsley 6 edited by Brian Elliott

Donald Rotherton

Lily Beverley, who was rescued from the canal.

Site of the house pictured above.

SURVIVING REMAINS of the house shown in the top photograph.

WOODEN WALKWAYwhich now sits on the remaining aqueduct piers.

A DRAMATIC photograph showing the bursting of the aqueduct on 20 November 1911.

theMending roads

Paul Stebbing ,BMBC’s Archives and Local Studies Manager,examines an 18th century ledger documenting road repairs in Cawthorne.

Roads have crisscrossed the landscape in Britain for centuries, a means of easily travelling and transporting produce between places. The earliest specifically engineered roads were built during the Iron Age, with the network being expanded massively during the Roman occupation and on into the middle ages. Today, responsibility for the upkeep of roads is a local authority duty but who took responsibility for them in centuries past?

In medieval times, liability for the maintenance of the highways lay upon the holders of land within each manor, although this obligation was usually cast as largely as possible onto the

landholder’s tenants. The situation changed little over the centuries, until in 1555 the great highway act was passed. This act shifted the responsibility from the manor to the parish, administered by the parish church. The act was an attempt to deal with the huge number of unsafe roads across the country.

The transition of responsibility from the manor to the parish brought about the role of Surveyor (or Overseer) of Highways. This unpaid role was at first appointed by the parishioners themselves, but after 1691 appointed at special ‘Highways Sessions’ by local justices from a list of local holders of land. This position was to survive until the general highway act of 1835, and even then

continued with diminished responsibility in some areas. It was however the one role that locals were keen to avoid, due to receiving no recompense for undertaking it.

Three times a year, the office holder had to view the roads, provide details of their condition, and organise for any necessary repairs to be made. These repairs were supervised by the Surveyor

and undertaken by the parishioners themselves. Each parishioner had to work on the roads or alternatively provide a labourer to work on his behalf for a set number of days each year. If this labour was not supplied, a penalty was normally paid, and the Surveyor would hire his own labour using the income.

An early account book kept by the Surveyor of the Highways for

Cawthorne has survived amongst the papers of the Spencer-Stanhope family. It covers the period 17441771. The Spencer-Stanhopes lived at Cannon Hall and once owned large swathes of the local area. It is not surprising therefore that the account book was found in their family papers which have recently been transferred from Sheffield Archives to the custody of Barnsley Archives and Local Studies.

The account book includes a detailed list of all those who held the post in Cawthorne during the 18th century, as well as many hundreds of payments made by the various Surveyors. In 1745 we see a payment of four shillings being made for a new bridge at Pashley Green. The same year a payment of four shillings and sixpence is made ‘For Ale given to the leaders of Causeway Stone & to the Hackers in of the Highway.’ This is not as surprising as it sounds. Ale was part of everyday life for working people in the 18th century. Water was often unsafe, because it was contaminated. So for most people, the everyday beverage was beer or cider – for breakfast, lunch and dinner! The good old days?

THE COLLECTIONS of Barnsley Archives and Local Studies date from the 12th to 21st centuries and include records detailing everything from local families, to schools, local businesses, the police and councils.

Explore the collections in the Discovery Centre, which sits alongside the new Experience Barnsley Museum in the Town Hall.

A DRINK AROUND TOWN

An old fashioned pub crawl started at The Devonshire Hotel (Dev) because it was so close to the bus station.

You had a quick one at that Eldon Street establishment, after which you hurried a few yards to the Magnet, where ‘Tracky’ workers socialised and where you

might find a banjo player or pianist on pay days or on a lively weekend.

The next stop: The Cross Keys overshadowed May Day Green from its construction in the late 1860s until demolition in 1972. A typical town centre pub without too many frills, it never seemed empty, people drifted in and out

all the time – Jack Callaghan, the landlord from 1968, said it was not a local – and it was popular with market traders who were seen in groups drinking gills of Barnsley Bitter. The austerelooking Cross Keys had its surprises. It was the headquarters of the Yorkshire Opera Co and boasted what one customer described as ‘a Raffles-style bar’, with bamboo decor and unusual plants, though that tropical lustre had certainly dimmed by the time of my pub crawls.

It also had a mesmerizing juke box with a wide selection of quality records that were not necessarily the popular variety, including jazz, unlike the 6d a-

Barnsley town centre was handsomely endowed with robust pubs 40 or 50 years ago. John Threlkeld goes on a trip into the past,looking at a selection of pubs,some with character and others with fitted carpets.

LEISURE

THE CROSS KEYS The photograph has a midlate 1950s look. Men are wearing suits and flat caps and are talking in small groups, perhaps waiting for the pub to open or just killing time. It seems to have been taken on a market day before 11am, note the produce on the market stall, left, but there is a noticeable shortage of women shoppers.

The same scene today.

‘THE DEV’ AND the Magnet were built to last, unlike the Gyngleboy on the opposite page. Local brewery Clarksons owned ‘The Dev’, a smoky working class pub. Two small features illustrate the vintage of the pictures: evening newspaper billboards outside ‘The Dev’ and the cigarette vending machine in the doorway of the shop near the Magnet.

shot standard juke box in the bottom bar of the nearby Queens Hotel in the 1960s, which always seemed to be playing either the theme from ‘The Quiller Memorandum’ (1966) or ‘Love is Blue’ (1967).

For 15 years you could have chosen The Gyngleboy, adjacent to the Cheapside Markets Complex, as the next stop. It opened in 1974 and was never intended to survive for many years because the corporation expected that part of the town centre to be redeveloped. At its opening, Whitbread East Pennines Ltd said modern public houses were expensive to build and the brewery thought new ones would soon be a novelty. A

spokesman said: ‘It will be increasingly difficult to make them a viable concern’.

That was prophetic when you consider the parlous state of the licensing trade today.

The BarnsleyChronicle said at

the time it was a replacement for The Three Cranes, Cross Keys, Market Inn, Wire Trellis, Elephant and Castle, Duke of York, Alhambra, Clarence, and Griffin, many of which were stonily forbidding old boozers that seemed to be

THE WINE SHADES, before the era of The Penny Farthing. The ‘Shades' had a saucy reputation, thanks to strippers and bawdy comedians, but that vanished with the arrival of The Penny Farthing and landlord Ron Swallow.

designed to deter modern drinkers.

The old pubs had been pretty raucous places without the need for too much comfort. Several had been frequented in earlier times by The Cross School gang (known as The Mob), which was said to have up to 100 members.

In the 19th century, those old pubs had suceeded around 15 pubs including The Jolly Sailor, The Nags’ Head and King William IV

In 2013 there are no pubs in

May Day Green, Cheapside or in the principal part of Eldon Street, the axis having shifted to the Wellington Street and Market Hill areas.(Both the Dev and The Magnet have become fish and chip shops/restaurants).

Meanwhile, back to the Gyngleboy, which had ‘fitted carpets, comfortable seats and gas central heating’, according to a surprised Chronicle reporter after the opening.

It was named after the earliest

form of breathalyser: A gyngleboy was a leather drinking vessel with silver bells and was used in pubs from the 15th to 17th centuries. To prove they were sober men had to down the beer without making the bells ring. If they tinkled, the man was shown the door.

Another short-lived but bustling pub, run by Ron Swallow, was The Penny Farthing, formerly The Wine Shades, and later Barclays Bank. It had the cheery and trendy decor –carpets, expensive looking wallpaper and framed photographs of yesteryear – that the modern patron demanded. Afterwards you sometimes wanted a pub with character, like The Industry Inn, in Baker Street, tucked away off New Street. It was a sound but basic establishment run by another Ron, had good beer and unpretentious drinkers with tab ends behind their ears, and one concession to modern life, a colour television when monochrome was the norm.

THE INDUSTRY was on Baker Street. It must have been part of a heavily populated area in the past since there were at least three other pubs in the street at various periods, including The Elephant and Castle and Royal Arms. Ron Langley was the landlord in my time. In the early 70s you could not get into the pub when World Cup football was screened on the colour television.

THE INDUSTRY was renamed The Old Pavilion in 1986.

The pub was better known as Paddy Jackson’s (it had two landlords in the 19th century with that surname) and it’s a tribute to the town’s traditional clamp-like collective spirit that the nickname remained in vogue for more than 50 years – long after their deaths. Would that happen today?

Like the Gyngleboy, The Industry (renamed The Old Pavilion in 1986) was demolished to make way for the Alhambra Centre in 1989.

Another venue on a good pub crawl is Chennells in Wellington Street. It’s rich in history and was occupied as long ago as 1817 by a wine and spirit merchant and was known to serve bottles of vintage wine to country houses within a 30 mile radius of the town.

By the 1930s it had had a bar for years and management boasted that the beer and wine (port and sherry) were ‘served from the wood’ which meant the big barrels were always in view. It was ‘a temple of taste’ according to a contemporary writer.

What I recall is its atmosphere on a good day; a mixture of gutsy tap room energy and a camaraderie plundered from the pits. Men like Tommy Smith, a wonderful character, thrived in pubs like Chennells. He was an official of the Burma Star Association and a friend of John Uprichard, the local freelance journalist. Tommy fed tip offs picked up in pubs to John who in

turn tipped off the national newspapers. When Tommy died in 1983, aged 63, a corner of the pub was named after him, thereby carrying on a tradition which started with the pub’s Press corner before the war (the Chronicle offices were then in nearby Peel Square). Landlord Peter Bristowe summed up Tommy after his death: ‘He was not just a customer, he was a best mate.’

There was one old fashioned bar that I never visited but wish I had. It was the Barnsley Gentlemen’s Club, with its leather seats and solitude. Founded in 1874 it occupied No 1, Regent Street. MP William Taylor took calls from Winston Churchill

while drinking there and a portrait of the wartime Prime Minister took pride of place on the wall for years.

By 1989 membership had dwindled to 22 and Tom Bellamy, the secretary, making an appeal for new members, said: ‘We are a quiet club and we want to attract the decent chap with manners. The club offers a drink, a chat and a game of snooker’.

I was thinking of joining when it closed... just a coincidence, I hasten to add.

So it was always back to the smoky Dev, with its ominously steep flight of steps leading to Midland Street, for the last one before the last bus home.

CHENNELLS today still retains some of that old atmosphere once reserved for working class pubs. The Woodbine cigarette blue haze that hung in the air has gone but the camaraderie is still there. One big change over the decades has been the introduction of television screens, once a novelty at the Industry. The corner wine shop with its comprehensive collection of vintages was worth a visit in the run-up to Christmas but competition from supermarkets resulted in its demise. The shop space has been incorporated into the pub.

The neighbouring Bodega Bar (not pictured) was much more sedate, ideal for courting couples in the 1960s and 1970s. It even had a discreet entrance leading from Pitt Street.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Photographs courtesy of Tasker Trust.

THE ENTRANCE TO the Gentlemen's Club was next to the shop advertising never-tobe forgotten Capstan full strength cigarettes (said to bring tears to strong men). Joe Gelder, the stocky newspaper seller and ex-war veteran, seems to be standing guard at the top of Regent Street.

BARNSLEY MAIN and the Old Oaks Colliery

Brian Elliott considers the history of two pits which occupied almost the same site.One long gone with a troubled history and the other which has been saved for posterity.

Well, the above may not have been the exact media wording but the recent news that our last and most obvious colliery structure was now a 'listed building' – and therefore like many country houses and churches protected for future generations – was given some prominence in the local press, on a variety of internet sites and BBC Radio Sheffield.

Compared with the unique Newcomen-type engine and engine house at Elsecar, the surviving Barnsley Main building, although having some

technological interest, is not of such a high status. The shaft here is long capped, so even with the help of the Hairy Bikers, it is very doubtful if the inside of the building could ever become a demonstrable piece of industrial machinery once again. But there are two major assets that it can boast. First, it has become an iconic structure, like the last of a rare Barnsley breed and has a massive presence that at the very least attracts attention. Without getting too sentimental, it may even generate emotion to some viewers. After all, several generations of many hundreds of local people once worked there.

Happy memories maybe. Sad ones too. Ask a knowledgeable child to draw or paint a pit and the chances are the result will be a picture not much different to this lone example. In a real sense, therefore, it has become a visual icon of Barnsley's former status as one of the great coal towns of England.

Its second merit relates to the building's setting, within a historic landscape of national importance. From the nineteenthcentury workers' houses at Hoyle Mill, towards the 'Oaks Monument' on Kendray Hill, Ardsley church and churchyard nearby; and Barnsley's large Victorian cemetery, much of interest remains. Other features, though now lost to view for most, can certainly be explored through interpretative means, especially since the site is earmarked as part of a designated 'green way', to be enjoyed by future generations.

The old landscape around the headstocks included coalmining going back to at least the early 1800s. From Hoyle Mill to Stairfoot there were numerous shafts sunk, initially for the famous Barnsley seam of coal and

BARNSLEY MAIN and part of Hoyle Mill from an old Ordnance Survey map, c.1905.

‘Barnsley Main headstocks and winding house: saved for the nation and the people of Barnsley’.

then to exploit deeper reserves.

Researching the Oaks disaster for my college dissertation in 1969/70, I was able to explore the pit bank of the old Oaks Colliery, only a few yards from the remaining buildings of Barnsley Main. Back then it was still possible to see the tops of two shafts of the old pit, located right next to each other. Barnsley Main had closed as an independent coal-producing unit a few years earlier, in 1966, so the photographs that I took then are of special interest. It wasn't long afterwards that the old Oaks site and adjacent disused railway was cleared.

The Oaks was one of the most troubled pits in British coalmining history. During its early life it was the scene of numerous accidents, fires – and two major disasters. The first warning came in 1845 when three men were killed in an explosion on 11 June and then the pit caught fire on Christmas Eve the same year. Fortunately and understandably, there were few men around during the latter incident, though witnesses described a very serious

situation, flames issuing from one of the shafts 'as if from a volcano'.

On a black Friday afternoon, 5 March 1847, part of the pit exploded yet again and this time there was no escape for 73 of the 95 men and boys trapped underground. It took until 18 March for the last three bodies to be recovered. There were 25 married men killed, most of them leaving widows and children – but a significant number of the victims were pit boys and youths under the age of 18, several as young as 10 or 11. On the afternoon of 14 March it was estimated that a crowd of over 2,000 attended an open-air service near the site of the pit. What a tragic scene that must have been.

Coal production resumed at the Oaks in about 1851 after two new shafts had been sunk. Fifteen years later, again approaching Christmas time, the pit fired once more and this time it was with the most catastrophic consequences ever experienced at a British colliery. The time of year meant near maximum attendance and the result was absolutely

devastating. Most of the entire workforce was killed following a massive explosion of firedamp.

THE MASSIVEbrick structure in the foreground is the engine house, behind it the headstocks and pulleys over No. 2 shaft. Photographed by the author a few years ago.

THE HEADSTOCKSof No. 2 shaft dwarf the stone-sided pit bank of the Old Oaks pit in 1969/70. BEC

MY THEN girlfriend (and later wife) Angela looks down to one of the Old Oaks shaft tops, covered by a small piece of corrugated iron sheeting. BEC

The day afterwards an intrepid rescue party led by Parkin Jeffcock lost their lives in a second blast of methane gas. The huge fatality toll of 361 persons meant it was the worst disaster in British coalmining history and remained as such until the Universal Colliery at Senghenydd in South Wales exploded in 1913, with 439 deaths.

The Oaks disaster of 1866 affected many local communities but no more so than at Hoyle Mill, over 100 men and boys lost from 60 houses. And the heartache was prolonged for many families as the recovery of bodies took several years and identification was increasingly difficult. Eventually, searching had to be abandoned, with over 80 bodies left in the old workings.

A public subscription resulted in the erection of a small

commemorative obelisk in Ardsley churchyard. This remains as the only public monument to the men and boys who lost their lives in the Oaks disaster.

A much more spectacular monument, placed atop Ardsley Hill and opposite Kendray Hospital, on the Doncaster road, was not erected until 1913/14, almost 50 years after the disaster. Rescue and bravery was its tributary theme, apparently inspired by the disaster at Cadeby Colliery two years earlier when a party of 53 rescue workers, including managers, engineers and a mines inspector, were killed. The 1912 tragedy generated massive media coverage, especially as it coincided with the visit of King George V and Queen Mary to South Yorkshire, including planned trips to Silverwood Colliery (near Rotherham),

THE OBELISK and memorial to the miners who lost their lives in the Oaks disaster can be seen in Ardsley churchyard. A variety of individual gravestones survive elsewhere, most notably in Barnsley Cemetery. BEC

Conisbrough Castle and to Elsecar Colliery, the royals diverted to Cadeby pit in the aftermath of the disaster.

The new Oaks monument was funded by the well-known Barnsley philanthropist Samuel Joshua Cooper. The text on a bronze plaque at the base of the monument is quite specific as to its purpose, referring to Parkin Jeffcock and the bravery of John Edward Mammatt and Thomas William Embleton in particular.

Placed above the base and inscription panel is a magnificent bronze statue representing Gloria Victis ('glory to the conquered, honour to the victims'). The composition is surmounted by a soaring obelisk and the whole enclosed by an iron rail and was lit in the evening by gas lamps at the corners.

Jeffcock, born in 1829, was the young partner in the Derby offices of Thomas Woodhouse, mining engineers. 'The Oaks pit is on fire. Come directly' was the ill-fated telegram that summoned him to Barnsley. Jeffcock's burnt and mutilated body was not recovered until 5 October 1867, apparently

RARE DETAIL from the original artwork that was used by The Illustrated London News to show the dramatic second explosion at the Oaks Colliery on 13 December 1866 when 27 rescue workers were killed. BEC

identified by his name on his shirt tag. He was buried at Ecclesfield, and St Savour's Church at Mortomley was built to his memory. But what about the other two named heroes? The day after the second explosion, Mammatt, an engineer at the Oaks, had appealed for a man of light-weight build to descend the shaft with himself as there appeared to be someone still alive in the pit bottom. The indication of this was the ringing at the surface of a bell which had been attached by a rope suspended down one of the shafts; and, to the amazement of onlookers, a lowered bottle of brandy had been 'accepted' below. A young man called Embleton came forward, perhaps not fully

realizing what he would be asked to do. Both plucky volunteers were lowered into the black depths – and through occasional rushes of overhead water – in an iron bucket, one of each of their legs apparently swinging in space. Remarkably, they reached an exhausted miner, Samuel Brown, and somehow they managed to get him to the surface, now all three wedged into the bucket or kibble, as it was known. Fully recovered, Brown became a local celebrity of sorts, lauded in pubs and clubs and described in a pamphlet as 'the sole survivor of the Oaks disaster'.

The Oaks monument, then by far the largest piece of public art in Barnsley, was officially unveiled on 5 February 1914 by Charles

Joseph Tyas, who was a past member and present chairman of the Oaks Relief Fund. Sadly, Joshua Cooper had passed away. A special guest among a crowd of 'several thousand' was none other than Thomas Embleton, who made a short speech. Moderating spoken reference to his act of bravery, Thomas stated that he would have 'done the same again' as he had been brought up all his life in 'collier work'; and concluded by saying that in times of accidents and disasters there was no class of men so ready to come forward to rescue a workmate in peril.

Thus, apart from the small obelisk somewhat out of sight in Ardsley churchyard, there is no

THIS IS the iron bucket or kibble (which is about 4ft high and a yard in diameter) and is believed to have been used in the amazing rescue of Samuel Brown, now on display at the National Mining Museum for England. BEC

THIS POSTCARD by local photographer Lamb of Racecommon Road was issued to commemorate the unveiling ceremony of the 'Oaks Memorial' in 1914. The central plaque has yet to be uncovered. BEC

THE OAKS Monument plaque. BEC

A lowered bottle of brandy had been 'accepted' below...

THE SPECTACULAR Gloria Victis part of the Oaks Monument was restored by BMBC about 15 years ago, seen here shortly after the work was completed.

public monument or memorial to the miners who lost their lives in the Oaks Colliery disaster. How marvellous it would be if on the 150th anniversary in 2016 that at the very least a plaque or commemorative item was placed by the old pit site and near to the Barnsley Main headstocks on the green way.

Close to Hoyle Mill, the now listed Barnsley Main headstocks and engine house related to what was known as the No 2 shaft for most of its working life. Another main modern shaft, No 4, was located about 400 yards away at Stairfoot. In c.1890 the No 2 shaft and pit operated under the name of Ryland's Main, after the

glassmaking pioneer Dan Ryland, whose works lay nearby. After successive deepening, the Winter, Melton Field, Lidgett and Fenton seams were accessed but the shaft, now under the ownership of the Barnsley Main Company (BMC), closed in 1929 when the depression in the coal trade affected landsales badly. It reopened about four years later after BMC merged with Barrow, becoming Barrow Barnsley Main Collieries Ltd, the company also operating Monk Bretton pit.

Barnsley Main had a much better safety record than the earlier nearby pits but at other local pre-nationalisation pits there were day-to-day accidents; and there were two almost forgotten incidents involving multiple fatalities. The first took place during wartime, on 16/17 February 1942. An explosion and fire in the 542 foot-deep Fenton workings on the evening of the 16th – probably due to a flash from a trailing electric cable attached to a coal cutter –resulted in two men, Ephraim Wilson and Fred Wood, receiving serious burns. Sadly Wood died from his injuries two days later. Twelve courageous men then lost their lives in and after a second explosion, all of them experienced miners, when undertaking remedial safety work, building stoppings to seal off dangerous districts. The further victims were named as: Arthur Brown, William Burns,

John Cocking, John Harrott, William Hinchliffe, William Lakin, Verdi Lowe, Robert Luck, George

Little more than five years later, at 12.15 pm on 7 May, an explosion and 'sheet of flame' in the newly developed Kent Thick seam killed nine men and injured 21 others. Again, an electric cable and its relationship to coal-cutting machines was a somewhat controversial source of the accident. Syd Blackburn, a shot-firer, and Harry Crummack, chargeman filler, were awared the George Cross for their bravery during the immediate aftermath of the fire, leading a group of men to safety and then returning to save more lives. Those who died were: Clifford Allen, Harry Baxter, Joseph Blaydon, Harry Crowcroft, John Denton, Ernest Earnshaw, Arthur Edwards, William Peake and Harry Storey.

As mentioned earlier, Barnsley Main closed 'for good' in 1966 but that was far from the end of its life. Barrow Colliery started working coal from the former BM take from the early 1970s and the shaft and surface of the latter was refurbished so as to allow man riding and material access, but the coal was wound from Barrow, three miles away. A Training Centre was also established on site. George Kemp, who had worked at Wharncliffe Woodmoor, Woolley, Wentworth

Martin, Ernest Pilkington, William Rushworth and Charles Wright.

THE BARNSLEY Main site photographed by the author a few years after its closure in 1966. BEC

Barnsley Chronicle

Silkstone and Rockingham collieries, was one of the new instructors. He described to me how he got his job there when I interviewed him for my book Yorkshire Mining Veterans several years ago:

In 1974 I got to know from a notice at Rockingham Colliery that they were wanting instructors at Barnsley main Training Centre. I saw the union man, Sam Illingsworth, who told me that since I was a regular worker and had the right qualifications, I would be just what the NCB needed. I started in 1975. Men and lads needed training. It was a mixture of classroom theory and practical work. We took five at a time down Grimethorpe pit where there was a worked-out seam which served as a training gallery. They were shown how to use a pick and shovel, boring tackle and so on. I was nearly 63 when I finished in 1983 due to breathlessness, after nearly 50 years in coalmining.' Major development and refurbishment then took place in the early to mid 1980s. Barnsley Main was 're-built' with futuristic-looking modern

buildings at a cost of £23 million. Some miners transferred there from closed pits. It became part of a £175 million complex, known as the South Side scheme, which brought together the outputs of Barnsley Main, Grimethorpe, Houghton Main and Darfield Main, with Grimethorpe as the coalhandling hub. Barnsley Main continued to function after the 1984/85 miners' strike but British Coal soon announced its closure, and production ceased – from T25 face of the Parkgate seam – at the last pit in the old borough of Barnsley, on 19 July 1991. The strike closed pit sites were demolished in great haste, obliterated in most cases from the local landscape. Although in December 1993 reclamation work started in the Barnsley Main yard, a decision was made to retain the main headgear buildings and trackway at the Hoyle Mill side as 'historic features'. The announcement of Grade II listing in 2013 has now safeguarded the building and its setting for future generations and Barnsley MBC, its planning

and conservation officers, councillors and supporters deserve credit for their work on the site over the years. The National Mining Museum for England, at the Caphouse Colliery site, is a wonderful place to visit and appreciate what the once a great industry was like – but it is consoling to know that part of an important pit site in Barnsley has been recognised as being of national importance too.

Main miner Michael Taylor displaying one of his prize possessions: a framed feature about the colliery signed by 'the last employees at the last coal mine to work in the [old] Borough of Barnsley'. Afterwards Michael found work at Goldthorpe Colliery but his mining life ended in 1994 when this pit also closed.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

THIS GRAPHIC shows the underground workings at the new Barnsley Main, dating from about 1985. Note the two surface shafts: No. 2 and No.4

Photographs and images illustrated in this article –unless stated otherwise – are by Brian Elliott or in the Brian Elliott Collection (BEC) and should not be reproduced anywhere without permission. Brian would like to thank Tony Wiles from Spatial Planning, Sustainability and Conservation of BMBC for providing listing information.

GEORGE KEMP, when he was an instructor at the Barnsley main Training Centre. BEC

FORMER BARNSLEY

Competition

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Yorkshire Mining Veterans

by Brian Elliott WORTH £12.99

Submit your answers by email along with your name and address to editor@whmagazines.co.uk or write to: Paul Wilkinson, Editor,The Drill Hall,Eastgate, Barnsley S70 2EU.

Closing date for entries:30 November 2013.

Tasker Trust/Portman Collection

CELEBRATING THE CORONATION

1937

Queen Elizabeth II celebrated her Diamond Jubilee last year and recently commemorated the 60th anniversary of her coronation.

Over 76 years ago,her father King George VI was crowned at Westminster Abbey and Barnsley residents marked the occasion. Katie Seaman takes a look at how the town celebrated.

In 1937, from the 6-18 May, events borough-wide were held in Barnsley to mark the Coronation of King George VI. The surviving official programme gives us a glimpse into the many celebratory events held in the area.

In his forewording address, Mayor Alderman Joseph Jones, encouraged 'that all townspeople will loyally join in the celebrations.’ The Coronation celebrations united the town and was a joyful occasion. It was commemorated by a series of souvenirs, and several sepcial items were given to local schoolchildren. On Friday, 7 May, a presentation was held for children at the junior and infants' schools in which they received: an inscribed Official Programme, a locally-made tin of sweets with inscription, and a medal as a gift from the Mayor.

Senior and secondary school children received a souvenir edition

of the New Testament to commemorate the Coronation with personal inscription. Schools were also closed from the 11 to the 23 May.

A variety of souvenirs were also giving to adults across the town. Staff and patients at Kendray Hospital were presented with a beaker, female patients and staff at the Sanatorium were presented with a teaspoon or medal and male patients and staff were presented with tiepins. Other souvenirs presented included caddy spoons, brooches, tobacco

pouches and boxes, ashtrays and mugs. Old people and the unemployed were presented with an inscribed envelope containing 1s. and 1s. 6d. respectively.

Although this was a time of great celebration for the both the town and the country, events were also held in aid of the welfare of the vulnerable. Tea for approximately 5000 unemployed persons was provided at Arcadian Hall, Baths Hall, Public Hall and St. George's Hall. On Tuesday 11 May, cinema entertainment was provided for approximately 5000 unemployed people from 10 a.m.

THE SOUVENIR programme presented to the school children of Barnsley to commemorate the Coronation.

THE ROYAL HOTEL secured first prize in the Corporation’s competition for the best dressed premises.

at the Alhambra,Empire, Pavilion and the Globe Cinema. Even in times of celebration, the welfare of the unemployed and elderly was at the forefront of events.

A variety of events were held across the town which included some unusual activities by today’s standards. A pipe smoking competition was held on Thursday 13 May arranged with the Barnsley Chamber of

Trade (Tobacconists Section) and held in the Inquiry Room on the second floor of the Town Hall. The competitors were supplied with 1/12oz of tobacco, three matches and allowed two minutes from the word 'go' to light the pipe. Those whose pipes were not lit at the end of two minutes were disqualified. The three competitors who kept their pipes alight the longest were

declared the winners.

Local businesses and market traders also joined in the celebrations by competing in special display competitions. Prizes were given for stallholders in categories of fruit and flowers, fish, other eatables, wearing apparel and hardware. Local shops participated in competitions for the best window display and best decorated shop premises.

Other events across the surrounding area include the Alhambra Cinema showing the Coronation ceremony in technicolor and a Coronation Day Ramble. There were processions and pageants in surrounding villages which culminated in the coronation of a pageant queen.

On Wednesday, 12 May

thousands of people decided to finish their Coronation Day’s entertainment by watching the firework display at Locke Park, despite the incessant rain which had turned the cricket field into a quagmire. The firework display started early due to a break in the weather. The display provided the crowds with a succession of thrills which mounted to a climax when a portrait of His Majesty glowed out in lines of fire, with the flaming caption, ‘Long Live the King.’

The programme with the list of events and newspaper reports reveal a community spirit that made the celebrations enjoyable for all the townspeople.

A SELECTION of Coronation souvenirs. They were awarded as follows:

Old people were to receive an ‘envelope suitably inscribed’ containing 1s. and the unemployed an envelope containing 1s. 6d. School children (juniors and infants): a medal, an official programme, a tin of sweets. Senior and secondary schoolchildren: the New Testament. Ex-Servicemen – Mug. Blind persons – Male: tobacco box. Female: brooch Beckett Hospital – Staff and male patients: ash tray, tobacco pouch or tobacco box. Staff and female patients: beaker. Municipal Institution –Staff and male residents: tobacco boxes. Staff and female residents: brooches.

Open-Air School – Female staff: brooch, teaspoon or caddy spoon.

St Helen Hospital – Staff and male pateints: tobacco pouch. Staff and female patients: beaker. Kendray Hospital – Staff and patients: beaker. Sanatorium – Children: medal. Female patients: teaspoon. Male patients: tiepin. Female staff: medal or teaspoon. Male staff: tiepin.

Maternity home –Mothers: caddy spoon. Babies: teaspoon. Female staff: brooch or teaspoon. Male staff: tiepin.

CHILDREN RE-ENACTthe coronation during a street party on Carlton Hill, Smithies. Freda Newman

THE KING and Queen with Princess Elizabeth (right) and Princess Margaret (left).

THE OFFICIAL programme of events that were to take place in Barnsley.

BARNSLEYANDITS STREET NAMES

In the first part of this series Phil Norman looks at the early days of the town and some of the street names that have survived through to the present day.

Prior to the year 1822 Barnsley was just another humble township in the Staincross Wapentake. It had its markets and fairs, which were granted by Royal Charter in 1249, and enjoyed a certain amount of prestige by virtue of it being the Petty Session town for the Division, but these were almost its sole distinctions.

The rents of the markets and fairs belonged to the Lord of the Manor whose agent collected the tolls. However his interest in the town was purely a financial one. The local authorities were the Overseers of the Poor, the Churchwardens and the Parish Constable. The sole public

accommodation provided by the Moot Hall. The town had its own stocks and lock-ups – the ‘Upper’ and ‘Lower’ grates as they were known, for the incarceration of convicted criminals which were presided over by Constable Harry Woodcock. It had a post office on Market Hill, which in 1822 was managed by Charles Greaves, a local bookseller; the Master of the Workhouse was Francis Batty; William Gillbanks was the principal of the Grammar School and Alexander Ross the headmaster of ‘Ellis’ National School’ located in Pease Hills. These were the only public educational institutions in the town.

According to the census of 1821, there were 1,441 inhabited houses in the town and the population numbered 8,284 of which 4,285 were male and 3,999 female. There were no lights in the streets, there were no policemen worthy of the name, and it was extremely dangerous to be out of doors after nightfall, especially when there was no moonlight. The houses were undrained; slops were thrown out into the streets or tossed into the yards to find their own way out as best they could. At that time Barnsley only covered a small area and whilst the Sough Dyke ran through the town it was an evil smelling, open sewer. The following were its principal streets

MOOT HALL which stood on Market Hill.

DOG LANE joining Shambles Street to Peel Street.

and other thoroughfares: Back Lane, Baker Street, Beechfield, Beckett Square, Blucher Street, Cheapside, Church Street, Cockram (Cockerham) Lane, Croft End, Crow Well Hill, Dawson’s Wall, Doncaster Road, Jumble Lane, Longman Row, Market Hill, Market Street, May Day Green, Moor Side, Newland, Old Mill, Old Mill Lane, Old Town, Peashills Nook, Pinfold Hill, Pitt Street, Pogmoor, Race Common Road, School Street, Shambles Street, Sheffield Road, Sough Bridge, Spring Row, Summer Lane, Town End, Union Street, Wellington Street, Westgate, Wilson’s Piece and Windmill Terrace.

Of the lesser known streets, Dog Lane is one many will have heard of. Why it is called that seems to be lost in the mists of time. Similarly Dow Passage (named after Dr James Dow, who died in the cholera epidemic of 1832) should also be a familiar name. Both are still in existence, Dog Lane joining Shambles Street to Peel Street down the

side of what was the Three Travellers Inn, and Dow Passage joining Church Street to Eastgate down the side of the former Barclays Bank. Older residents will also remember Primrose Hill, (no longer there) which joined Doncaster Road and Pontefract Road and was the site of Hough and Midwood Sports shop. They may also remember Pall Mall which ran behind the Co-op building at Island Corner and joined New Street to Silver Street. The area in front of the Co-op building was once known as Trafalgar Square and was probably named after the Trafalgar Hotel which stood at the top of Albert Street. Silver Street was once known as Croft End. On the eastern side of Wellington Street was a farm

known as ‘Jacky Winter’s Croft’. He kept the ‘Royal Oak’ in Peashill Nook now Peel Square.

DOG LANE is the small gap on the left hand side of the Three Travellers Inn This photograph was taken in the 1960s.

PRIMROSE HILL, which was between Doncaster Road and Pontefract Road.

DOW PASSAGE, linking Church Street to Eastgate.

PALL MALL, which joined New Street to Silver Street.

THE TOWN of Wolfsburg was located on the boundary between the British and Soviet occupation zones.In 1945 it had a population of only 25,000, including refugees and displaced persons.

The VW Beetle

Don Booker MBE recalls a motoring invader.

There he was walking across the car park at the Spencer's Arms, Cawthorne, a typical Yorkshire chap in flat cap, using a walking stick and smoking a pipe.

Hard to believe he was the man who started the re-building of one of the world's biggest car makers, Volkswagen. It was Ivan Hirst, who lived on the outskirts of Huddersfield, and he came to Cawthorne to meet motoring writers. I asked him to join us for lunch, but he declined and then changed his mind. He enjoyed his roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, but decided not to remove his cap.

Through three courses that headgear remained in place, which was a surprise because he was a former Army Major and

strict on discipline. Not only the survival of the Volkswagen works at Wolfsburg after the Second World War, but also the present dominance of the company can largely be accredited to the efforts of Major Hirst.

When he died in the year 2000, aged 84, The Times described him as the 'British soldier who got the Volkswagen Beetle on the road.'

As a senior officer with the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers, he was asked to build the Volkswagen works from the ashes of war. He took charge in 1945 when the plant's chances of survival were regarded as very low, but when he departed in 1949 it was the biggest car builder in Germany.

Throughout his control of the factory he wore his Army uniform and many of the German workers also wore cast-off wartime uniforms.

The Beetle stems from the study and ideals of Ferdinand Porsche who had a plan to produce a cheap and economical car for the masses. Volkswagen in German translates as People's Car and the first sketches appeared in 1931. At the Berlin Motor Show in 1934, Adolf Hitler – firmly in power – told visitors that a motor car should no longer be a

THE VOLKSWAGEN WORKS in Wolfsburg. When Ivan Hirst arrived at the factory in August 1945 the site seemed to be totally derelict. He said, ‘At the place there was a terrible stink, terrible smell. All the drains had been damagaed in the air raids and never repaired. The toilets were not working. Completely unhygienic. Terrible.’

IVAN Hirst.

IN 1971, A new Beetle model featuring a redesigned front end was launched alongside the ‘standard’ Beetle, which continued in production. It was officially known as the VW 1302 from 1971 to 1972, and VW 1303 from 1973 onwards, but commonly called the ‘Super Beetle’. The 1303 shown in the photograph features the redesigned front end, with a deep curved windscreen. It came with a choice of 1300cc engine or as the 1303 ‘S’, which had a 1600cc engine.

privilege of the few, but a means of transport for the masses – agreeing with Porsche.

He outlined the idea of a onelitre air-cooled engine that could develop 26 horse power, reach 60 mph and use around seven litres of petrol over 60 miles. It should also accommodate four people. At that time motoring giant Mercedes-Benz were struggling to match such figures,

but by October 1936, the first Beetle was tested. Hostilities broke out before the newly constructed plant at KdF Stadt could begin full production and as a result only a handful of civilian Beetles were built, and only a few more during the war.

After the war the Amercian Army occupied KdF Stadt, which was then renamed Wolfsburg after a local castle, and the factory was

WORKERS IN THE Volkswagen works. Germany was still in ruins after the war and many were still suffering from starvation. The food situation in the British zone was especially bad, forcing them to reduce food rations to 1,050 calories a day, even though originally 3,000 calories per day had been calculated for the average worker. The situation in Britain was also dire with bread rationing introduced in 1946 –something which had not even been necessary during the war.

turned over to the British.

Major Ivan Hirst arrived in Wolfsburg as part of the British occupational forces with a remit from the British military government to oversee the running of the factory, which was used to repair military vehicles. On his arrival he found a bombed out factory and a workforce of slave labourers, POWs and exNazis. He sent the slave labourers and POWs home, but hopeful Germans kept arriving in Wolfsburg seeking employment and Hirst needed to find work to

THE PRESSSHOP. Hirst declared during a meeting of the Board of Control that it seemed feasible that once the factory had been supplied with additional machinery that it would be possible to raise production to 2,000 cars per month by January 1948.

AN EARLY Beetle without a rear window screen.

WORKFORCE COMMENTS on the 10,000th Volkswagen which rolled off the assembly line in October 1946. Workers had listed their real wishes on the board: a proper meal, beer – a life free of worry. And on another board an attack on the unbearable situation: ‘10,000 cars, but nothing to eat. Can we bear it?’. Although in November 1946, apprentices were taken on for the first time, a symbolic and fundamental step towards creating a permanent workforce.

keep the factory going. Colonel Michael McEvoy remembered driving a Volkswagen before the War. So McEvoy and Hirst found a pre-war version of the Beetle, sprayed it khaki and suggested to the British Army that they use it for light transport, to which they agreed as they were short of vehicles. The first order for 20,000 cars was issued in September 1945. Soon, American, French and Russian forces were also interested in the Beetle.

By 1946 the factory employed 8,000 workers and produced 10,020 Volkswagens. It was the British who named the company Volkswagen. Under the Nazis the company was called Gesellschaft

Zur Vorberitung des Deutsche Volkswagens (Group to Plan the German People’s Car, Inc.) and the car was the KdF Wagen.

The Army didn’t want to be in the auto industry and the company was offered to other car manufacturers, including Ford. They all declined. Finally, Hirst

recruited Heinrich Nordhoff, previously with GM’s German subsidiary, Opel, to run Volkswagen. On 8 October 1949, the British military government

transferred the trusteeship to the German government.

It was 1953 when the first Beetle arrived in the UK, thanks to Irishman, Stephen O'Flaherty

VARIATIONS ON AN open top Beetle. The Cabriolet was originally built on the request of British officers.

who invested £25,000 in the franchise. At the time a British motor industry commission described the Beetle as 'bizarre, noisy, too flimsy ... A toy not to be taken seriously ... A type of car like this will remain popular for two or three years, if that...’

But the funny little car surprised its critics. In the UK in 1952 two cars were sold and in 1953 it was 945, but three years later 5,381 were sold.

My first association with a VW Beetle in Barnsley was as a young motoring journalist writing about Walter Green, of Kendray, the king of motorcycle restorers. He was a

Barnsley Council grass-cutter engineer who was the UK's top vintage bike man and great lover of the Beetle, which towed his trailer. He tried to convince me it was the best car on the market due to reliability, excellent paintwork and the long-life of its tyres. The air-cooled rear engine and painted fascia with a small flower vase did not adhere me to the car.

It was sold at Redbrook Service Station, Wilthorpe, on a site now used for a veterinary clinic. The apprentice mechanic at the garage was Glenn Kaye who worked on VWs from the age of 15 to 21, and who introduced himself to me

when I was speaking at Huddersfield Rotary Club. He remembered my road testing exploits with Beetles, a very popular car with few faults. But one certainly came to mind, as Glenn recalled:

By converting the car to righthand drive, VW fitted an angled plate in the passenger foot-well to blank the space. But they must have overlooked part of the previous accelerator linkage, for if the passenger suddenly braced themselves against the foot-plate they could accelerate the car. Barnsley had imported cars on its roads early last century, including a 1904 Darracq at the garage of L V Grimes at Worsbrough Bridge, arriving from France. However, the Beetle was the first foreign car to make an impact in the early postwar years.

Volkswagen has made its mark in Barnsley. Pity about that flower vase which was in the same windscreen spot when the new Beetle arrived some years ago.

IN 1973 the car was popular around Carnaby Street.

THE ORIGINAL site of the first VW garage at Wilthorpe.

A 1947 EXPORT model of the Beetle. Hirst recognised that the international reputation of the Volkswagen works would be based on the quality of the vehicles. The export models were subject to tighter quality control, with ‘deluxe’ class furnishings, better paintwork and more comfortable upholstery. These cars were available in a wider range of colours, the bumpers and wheel caps were in chrome. The Volkswagen caught the post-war mood with its robust and simple style. It was also very cost-effective compared to other models of cars available at the time.

THE 2013version of the VW Beetle.

Readers’ page

Fun days in Locke Park

Jean Edwina Stagg, Australia

Last week I received a lovely suprise in the mail from my sister in England; your magazine! I was delighted to glance at the fascinating articles, promising myself a good read later. When I reached page 42 I just couldn’t put it down. Phil Norman’s wonderful account of his childhood visits to the park brought back precious memories of a time of innocence and sheer joy.

The grown-ups may not have realised that all the kids who played in the park belonged to neighbourhood groups, (not gangs). There was a fair amount of rivalry for the swings and see-saws at times that sometimes developed into fights. Phil obviously came from the ‘California’ side of the park, (called after the housing estate over the wall and behind the tower). The sandpit Phil mentions made a great paddling pool after heavy rain.

I was born in 1937 and grew up at my grandfather Bennett’s home at 4 Keresforth Hall Road, Kingstone Place. Our neighbourhood group had in it about nine children and because we lived just over the wall from the cricket field we considered the park, and specially the ‘rec’ (recreation ground) to be ‘ours’.

Locke Park was to us a truly magical place all year round. The fresh green of the trees, the horse chestnut flowers in spring, summer deep red of the copper beeches, the glowing gold of the autumn leaves and the winter white fairyland of snow covered branches set a beautiful stage for our years of play there. The flower beds in the ‘quarry’ and in other areas of the park too numerous to list were beautifully planted with tulips, daffodils, wallflowers and snapdragons. The large

Enjoyable issue

J H Semley

How enjoyable the spring issue (25) of Memories was. My late brother used to go to the ‘Bugs’ Hut on Saturday afternoon with a jam jar and half penny. He sat on wooden forms at the front. The article ‘Eating out on a budget’ brought back some memories. I can still smell the coffee whilst standing outside Guests!

There was also a wonderful article on Locke Park. I believe it is one of the top parks in the country. Barnsley should be proud. We were never away from it when we were children, and our mums knew we were safe.

oval bed in front of the tower steps was always planted with various colours of tulips that gave a perfect frontage to show off the tower. The steps in front of the park tower were ideal for the step guessing games of ‘letters in your name’ and ‘film stars’.

In winter we sledged down the slopes, climbed trees and played in the ‘rec’ in summer, and jumped in the piles of fallen leaves in autumn. Always trying to avoid the park keeper, ‘Spike’ (Mr Rhodes), to whom we called, ‘Spike, Spike get on your rusty bike’. We threw sticks into the horse chestnut trees to get the conkers. I well remember the aviaries; one a six sided and divided wooden building just above the rec. The other, larger one, was next to the greenhouses where we saw doves, budgies, pigeons and peacocks.

By far, however, the best play area and most used by us was the cricket field. We played in the mown grass and built forts; played cricket on the top side where it was level. When the snow came we vied to get the first snowman built and, just for the joke of it ran barefoot in the snow until we couldn’t feel our feet. On fine Saturday afternoons the field was full of activity. Dads and lads played football, cricket and nipsy. The tennis courts were booked up, the putting green also, where for 2d you could hire a golf ball and a club and have as long as it took to complete the holes. One of the best times was flying kites. My father made us our large square kites from thick

If you have photographs or memories you would like to share with us,please write to:Paul Wilkinson,Editor,The Drill Hall,Eastgate,Barnsley S70 2EU or email:editor@whmagazines.co.uk.

brown paper and sitcks that gave us hours of pleasure.

Sometimes, a couple of men came with a bike, a spare, tyreless wheel and a greyhound. The bike was turned upside down, the back wheel was removed, the spare wheel fastened on. String was already wound around the wheel with a piece of rabbit fur attached to the end. One man would walk down to the lower end of the field with the dog and the fur end of the string. After a signal, the man at the top would start to wind in the string, keeping the end just in front of the dog. Good, cheap greyhound training! At other times, the pigeon fanciers also came with baskets of birds and instructions to us to go away and not to frighten the birds.

At one time there was a crazy golf set up between the tennis courts. The miniature ‘greens’ were made of concrete and there was quite a lot of thought in their design. There were mouse runs, a big boot that the ball had to be sent in with enough force to make it shoot out of the top and sharp corners that were hard to navigate.

When the circus came to town it was to the cricket field. We were fascinated to watch the raising of the big top and bet each other on how many rings there would be. We were always right because it said so on the advertising. You could get 3 minutes of fame at school when you told how the big cats roared at night! I considered running away with the circus, (what 8 year old didn’t?), because I thought that there would be no school but decided not to because my mother said that they didn’t have warm fires in winter or the kind of roast dinners that she cooked!

After the end of the war, an event took place in the field –the appearance of the RAF with trucks pulling huge trailers carrying a Lancaster bomber. I think that they had it on display to collect money for disabled ex-servicemen. One of the men was billeted at my friend’s house and so we local kids got in for free.

At the top of the cricket field the concrete wall was an important park of the park to us. I must have sat on and walked along it hundreds of times. It served as a base for our play on the roadside footpath above it. Here, we roller skated, drew pictures and hop scotches, whipped out tops and took our baby siblings for outings in their prams as far as the gate opening. I can even remember the gate and railings on the wall that were remoed for the war effort when I must have been all of five years old.

As teenagers we congregated on the park wall with our bikes ready to go for a spin along Keresforth Hall Road as far as Ward Green and back. Here, we socialised, talking about pop music, leaving school and where to get a job, boys, circular skirts and film stars. It was here, too, that many of our first romances began.

Yes, Locke Park was as much home to us as the houses we lived in. There was never a day that we were bored; there was

too much to do and see. All that fresh air and exercise kept us fit and happy, before computer games, mobile phones and television!

I left Kingstone when I first married in 1959, when changes were already beginning. I migrated to Australia in 1965 but have never had the opportunity to come back for a holiday. My sister tells me that the changes to Kingstone area are quite extensive, but I hope that Locke Park is still the same.

Canal memories

As usual I'm enjoying reading issue 26 and can relate to many of the articles featured. The pit ponies had gone when I started at North Gawber due to new laws. Ithought it was a cruel thing to do, using ponies down the mine.

I passed my 11 plus in 1965/66 but elected to go to St Helens secondary modern school as most of my pals went there and I only had one day off during the four years I attended. My maths and handicraft teachers were not impressed when I told them I was leaving to do a pit apprenticeship and they said I should stay at school, sometimes I think they were right.

The article on the Barnsley canal was good and certainly memorable. Growing up in Athersley from 1954, myself and many other kids spent a lot of time during school holidays and weekends playing around Smithies (when I wasn't doing the pop rounds). It was a playground for youngsters, with the ‘Majuba’ muck stack and the quarry opposite, the Fleets for bird nesting and the reservoir for net fishing and willow bank and of course those amazing walks along the canal to Tinkers’ Pond. We would walk through the ‘monkey tunnel’ to visit my aunt and uncle up past the school at Wilthorpe. We would always get a glass of pop to cool down from my aunt and sixpence for an ice cream later. I love the small photo of the canal looking towards Smithies Lane which nearly made me teary as I remember near there we had a big tree swing and played there until late in the summertime.

I also remember the bridge on Smithies Lane, a small humpback, over the canal (see page 7).It was narrow and you could not see over it and it was a nightmare for drivers and from memory it had cobblestones on it, which meant that cars would rumble over very slowly. I loved that bridge and have fond memories around there. I think the last time I was on the canal would be about 1970 watching the men fishing as they sat on their cane baskets with a sandwich and cuppa.

Thanks for a great issue.

Noel Green, Melbourne, Australia ‘Monkey tunnel’ at Wilthorpe.

Competition Winner

LAST ISSUE WE offered Barnsley Football Club’s Greatest Games as a competition prize. Congratulations to John Barry Oliver who correctly identified the photograph as Shambles Street looking towards Townend. Mr Barrie supplied this information based on the 1911 census: Clues are the name Carnevale and the number 37 on the buildings to the right. 1911 census shows No 31 being the home and workplace for Francesco Carnevale and wife Rosa, children; Antonia, Salvadore and Domenico all boys. Francesco and his wife came from Italy but the boys were born in Glasgow and Barnsley. No 33 shows empty i.e. shop and no residents. No 35 belongs to William Guest, a butcher. No 37 must be a shop and no residents. Next the white building is No 39 and 41 combined a Public House run by Charles Herbert Lax and wife Annie with their son Cecil Roy Clark Lax. Charles Herbert was formerly a police constable. Cecil Roy went on to form Contractors Sales on Doncaster Road, he was father in law to my cousin Valerie Breeze who married his son Lionel Keith Lax who in turn ran Contractors sales. Valerie was a Matron at Barnsley Hospital. The shops to the left are still standing. The photo must have been taken just prior to demolition to make way for the shops from John Rideal house steps back to the Library.

A view of Rich Lane from Shambles Street. Rich Lane went through to Westgate. The entrance to the flats above the shop can be seen down the side of the building.

Rich Lane. The lane probably got its name from the Rich family who were onetime licensees of the Old Windmill Hotel.

Formerly the Old Windmill Hotel, which later became a branch of the British Legion in the 1960s before it was demolished in 1964.

Carnevale fish and chip shop entrance.

Many readers gave us the correct answer and some information regarding some features in the photograph:

Julia Carnevale

How could I not enter the competition with the surname Carnevale which is over the shop at No 31! It was my grandparents fish and chip shop and they previously lived at No 37. Sadly my dad died last year at the age of 93 but mum (Elsie) – who after marrying dad (Joe) during the war – came to Barnsley in 1944 and her recollections are that the shop next to the fish shop was Brown’s, then Guest the butcher. No 37 was a bike shop. The building with the sign on for Rich Lane was the British Legion. Across the road was Wragg & Stott furniture, the toy shop, then a shop that two sisters kept as a general grocers and there were steps to that shop! I can remember Rich Lane as it led to Westgate and Medlem’s butchers where Edna would supply us with pig tail and trotters – all with a smile.

Margaret Rusby

The building with the No 37 on it had the address 37 Rich Lane, I know this because I lived in the top flat when I was 4 years old. I remember there was nowhere for me to play so I would could go across and play in the Old Windmill Hotel courtyard, that was in 1948. The entrance to both flats above the shop was in Rich Lane and anything less rich would be hard to find. One picture has stuck in my mind, mice kept getting into the flat no matter what my parents did to get rid of them. I remember one night we'd just come home from the pictures and my parents both shot into action. I was dumped on the settee and told to stay there while they got down, one on either side of the sideboard, one had a shoe and the other a handbrush and there they were trying to nobble this perishing little mouse. There was a lot of banging but the mouse escaped under the door. I also remember the big mangle down on the ground floor where the laundry was done, big wooden rollers it had, not safe at all for an inquisitive 4yr old.

Frances Wilson

I remember that my older sister and her family had a flat that was in the building next to Carnevales fish and chip shop. This would be around 1946/47 time. We used to visit her and then we all had a treat from my mum to fish and chips on the way home. Happy times.

Lawrence Davies

In the foreground is a shop with the sign ‘Carnevale’; this was a fish and chip shop, where the owner Mr Carnevale fried and served fish and chips. The owner was a little Italian and he told me the correct pronounciation of his name was Carnevalli. The entrance to the shop was on the extreme right of the picture on the corner.

Ralph Bowers

In the centre of the photograph is Old Windmill Hotel on the corner of Rich Lane. The end shop on the left was my aunty, Miss Wilkinson’s bakers’ shop. Opposite the hoardings on the left was the Stores Inn where I was born in 1938. The landlord was my father Ralph Gordon Bowers. He was also a Barnsley fireman during the war. I lived there until I was 10 years old.

Stores Inn was originally a depot for wine, spirits and beer. The lane on the left is Sackville Street which used to join Shambles Street.

View looking towards Market Hill.

A view of the courtyard at the rear of the Old Windmill Hotel.

The opposite side of Shambles Street showing the Wragg & Stott furniture shop.

Editor’s pick

This photograph shows how popular Wilthorpe park was during the summer in the 1970s. The paddling pool was obviously the main attraction for the kids, whilst mothers appear to be taking the opportunity to get on with their knitting! The photograph on the right shows the same view in 2013. The grass mound marks where the paddling pool used to be.

Taken in June 1969 this photograph shows the view towards Church Street and Market Hill. The waste ground in the foreground is where the library stands today. The 2013 photograph shows how much this area has changed with the recent opening of the Experience Barnsley Museum. The most notable features are the water fountains, which seem to have attracted a lot of attention from the children, and the sculpture.

Andrew Taylor

Tasker Trust

Over feeding the ponies

John Turner

Reading Brian Elliott’s article on Pit Ponies brought back a few memories. I was working as a deputy in the 1960s and was on duty with another deputy in a holiday period. We had just to do statutory inspections and pumping water. We were the only two in the Lidgett seam at Woolley Colliery and on the day shift. We were told that at the shift end feed for the ponies would be sent down for us to carry to the stables to feed the ponies. The cage landing was mid shaft and the feed was taken off by us in thirteen sacks. We fed the sacks of feed to the ponies and went home.

The next morning there was a note on our lamps to see Mr Steele the manager, at our shift end. The manager was a good pit man and a decent man but he was red in the face when he saw us and shouted that when the horse keeper had gone down to the stables he had a fit. The sides of the ponies were touching the sides of their individual stalls and the horse keeper could not get to them for horse dung. Did we not know the feed was for all the holiday not just one day! The fact we had had not much to do with horse care was to no avail. We were deputies and should have known. We got a right telling off. I was at Woolley 1948 –1985, and I am now 83 but I recall it like yesterday. The photo in this issue showing the two horse keepers are of the Thorncliffe stables of which there were two sites and one of the men was a young Harry Turner (no relation).

Pit pony memories

Colin Ingram

This article brought to mind my first day on my own as a timber boy at Wharncliffe Woodmoor 1,2 and 3, Barnsley. Wilf Barrowclough, the deputy in charge, told me to get a pony and go to the Lidgett seam, and with trepidation I approached the stables. I was given a large, light brown pony, with a white blaze on his face, he was called Smokey. I was surprised by how amiable he seemed.

The last words of the stable man was to not ride the ponies, but to us 16 year olds, it was an invitation to do the opposite. When we got to the main road (which about two miles long) we ambled up to the tailgate, and I felt like a cowboy without a care in the world. That was about to change.

My first load of materials to be taken to the face consisted of two trams of timber props and bars, and half a tub of stemming for the shot firer. Stemming was heavy, like wet cement, hence only half a tub. About half way to the face all three came off the rails and the realisation hit home; I was on my own. A feeling of utter despair and helplessness hit me. I learned more about leverages and fulcrums that day, than all my time at school.

At the end of the shift, we headed for the main road and back to the pit bottom. I imagined a steady amble back, as in the morning. As if by common practice, or homing instinct, Smokey suddenly took off, my foot hit the conveyor belt roller and pulled me off his back. Fortunately I fell square, front down on the belt and headed after Smokey. I found him waiting patiently about three hundred yards down the road. I do not know how he found his way in the darkness, but perhaps he instinctively felt the sleepers and rails with his hooves.

Holiday reading

Ireally enjoyed the article in issue 26 by David Copping on ‘Moving up to the “big school”’. I had taken Memories of Barnsley to read while on holiday in Crete, and yet I found myself transported right back to my own school days and the feared Eleven Plus Exam. His account of the day when the post came with his results brought tears to my eyes. David Copping really captured that life changing (as it it appeared to us then) day. Thank you for great memories.

Maxine Jenkinson

Waverley Commercial Hotel

Rosemary Wilmot

Iwould like to start by saying that this is a wonderful magazine and I love it! I was very interested to read the article on Regent Street in issue 22 by John Threlkeld. My Grandfather George William Walshaw Hydes owned the Waverley Commercial Temperance Hotel in Regent Street South from 1937 until 1949. (Also known as Tate's Temperance hotel).

The only information I have been able to find is a cutting from the Barnsley Chronicle on its closure which read as follows:

Although situated away from the main road in Regent Street South the Waverley Hotel, believed to be well over 100 years old, has always been a well known Barnsley landmark. Now to make way for modern town planning it is to close down. It has been sold to a property company who, it is understood, intend to build offices and shops in its place.

The proprietor, Mrs W Simms, has been at the Waverley for the past 16 years. Previously she was the Manageress at the Queen’s Hotel and previously ran two large hotels in Blackpool. Mrs Simms said, ‘It was a great shock to learn that the hotel would have to be closed. When my husband and I first came to the Waverley Hotel the place was in a very dilapidated

state, in fact it was little more that a lodging house. We have invested almost all we have in altering the place and we have built up a fine reputation. I have never had to advertise my place. Most of the people who have stayed here have had the hotel recommended to them by former guests’.

Mrs Simms wished to point out that the closing of the Waverley is not the end of her hotel career, for she hopes to open new premises in the centre of town in the near future. Evidence of the great age of the building can be found at the back, where there are the remains of a number of stables and a coach house. Some of the older Barnsley resisdents to whom the Chronicle spoke this week, shared the view that the building was well over 100 years old.

In 1955, the end of the Waverley almost came prematurely, for during a serious fire which affected the old Empire cinema, the Waverley was in the line of the blaze. It did, in fact, serve at the time as a rescue station for people who were evacuated from nearby cottages.

I don’t have any photographs of the Waverley so if anyone has I would love to see them. My cousin, who lived there in the war, remembers that it had 18 bedrooms and one permanent guest, Mr Wormold, who owned and ran a tobacco shop near the Town Hall. His sitting room was full of rare stamps of which he was a renown collector. Does anyone know who Mr Wormold was or have any further information?

Editor: This photograph from Barnsley Streets 4 shows Regent Street South. We think the Waverley is this building. Tasker Trust

Tasker Trust

Beckett Hospital 1942

Rita Taylor (née Goodliffe)

After reading the article on Beckett Hospital in issue 26 it prompted me to write in with my memories of staying there as a child. Iwas admitted to the hospital in the spring of 1942 when I was 6 years old. I had been having pain in my left foot for some time, and our GP, Dr Keay, referred me to the orthopaedic department at the hospital to see Mr Dornan, the consultant.

As far as I was aware this was just an appointment to let another clever doctor have a look at my foot, so I was totally devastated when, having studied the X-rays, he announced that I would have to stay in. I was suffering from a condition known as Osteomyelitis (a bone infection). This was not on my agenda at all. I burst into tears and continued to sob and scream all the way up the long curving corridor to the Fountain Ward, where I was handed over into the tender care of Sister Tabb. My poor dad was upset and embarrassed because I was so utterly inconsolable, but in the end he had to tear himself away.

He had to take my clothes home with him and I was given a little pale blue pyjama top to wear. Because I was in such distress I was given a bed in a cubicle near the door where the nurses could keep a close eye on me, and I eventually cried myself to sleep.

The next morning I was taken to the plaster room where my leg was encased in a cast from toe to knee, then back I went to my bed with a cage over my leg to keep the weight of the bedclothes off it. Later in the day I was moved out of the cubicle into the main ward to join the other children.

It was a long room with perhaps 10 beds down each side and two beds down the middle. Sister Tabb ruled this little kingdom with strict efficiency, and her cohort of student nurses, staff nurses etc. obeyed her every word. She wore a long navy blue dress and the most wonderful starched white cap, and of course a watch pinned to her dress. The other nurses were similarly dressed but in dresses of different colours to denote their rank. To a frightened little 6 year old, Sister Tabb was God – until Matron came round! She had an even more splendid cap than Sister Tabb, and while she was in the ward we hardly dared to speak. She went from bed to bed, discussing each patient with Sister, and a great sigh of relief went up, from nurses as well as children, when she left.

The Fountain Ward was my home for the next 3 months. For some reason unknown to us children, visitors were not allowed except in case of extreme emergency; it may have had something to do with the fact that it was wartime and there was a shortage of nurses, or a misguided belief that having visitors unsettled the patients, or some other theory. As a result we built up close relationships with the nursing staff, and eventually everyone learned to love Sister Tabb. We were there for a wide range of reasons: the girl next to me had fallen from the viaduct on Pontefract Road and was paralysed from her neck down; another girl had severe diabetes; one of the boys had had an accident on his bike; some stayed only a few days, some were in for longer.

I can only remember having mince and mash for lunch; I really don’t think we ever had anything else. It was cereal for breakfast, which presented problems for me because I couldn’t take milk (and still can’t), but the idea of choice never arose – you had what you were given or did without. At tea-time we had bread and dripping, and we had a drink and a biscuit at bedtime. Tea-time, however, was my salvation. My mum came

every day to the side door to look at the chart in the hall which reported on each patient’s progress, and she brought with her a bread-cake with cooked meat in it in a paper bag with my name on it, and that was my favourite time of day – sandwich time! Not only a delicious tea, but a reminder that mum was thinking about me.

Another highlight each day was when Staff Nurse or Sister came round with the hair brush and ribbons (though not much fun for the boys!) because she started at a different bed each day and first bed got first pick of the ribbons. Unfortunately we never had the luxury of having our hair washed, or a bath, which raises for me the question of whether hygiene was of any importance or there simply wasn’t the staffing to deal with it. We had a bowl of water and a flannel each morning for face washing, and that was your lot.

The nurses had their moments, too. There was a young doctor called Dr Burke, who I think was Irish and who was a real charmer; handsome too. He would come into the ward to see how we were and to carry out various tests and procedures, during which time he would twinkle his eyes and sing little songs to us. Lovely!

On days when the weather allowed, our beds were trundled out on to the long verandah which ran along the length of the ward. There was nothing provided in the way of either education or entertainment, apart from reading the books and playing the games that we were sent from home, but board games are not easy when you are in one of a long line of beds.

Eventually the day came when I was allowed home, but that, too, had its traumas. I found it impossible to go to sleep in a room by myself after being so long in company with two dozen or so other children, and for a while my mum had to sleep in my room. She also had the job of getting my hair clean; 3 months without washing had taken its toll and it simply would not lather. When it was time for me to go back to outpatients for follow-up appointments I was in fear and trembling that I would be kept in again but fortunately that did not happen.

In time all these hitches resolved themselves, but I have never forgotten my 3 months in the Fountain Ward, and I sometimes wonder if any of my co-patients remember those days – and Sister Tabb.

Blacker Hill The Forgotten Village

Blacker Hill is a small village about five miles away from Barnsley.In the 1940s it consisted of five shops,three public houses,a working men’s club,a Co-operative,a chapel,a church,a football and cricket field,two tennis courts,a recreation ground and a school.These are now all but a distance memory. Philip Firth describes his experiences of growing up there during the 1940s.

It is still there but not as I knew it in the 1940’s; a separate community with approximately 250 inhabitants.

Its community provided manpower to the surrounding collieries of Wombwell Main, Barrow, Platts Common, and Rockingham, all of which have long since gone, as have the surrounding three farms.

My earliest memories of living in Blacker Hill include seeing a man light the street gas lamps at night, using a long pole, and turning them off in the morning. Then another man, also with a long pole, tapping on certain bedroom windows to awaken day shift workers. There was also the characters who were part of our daily village life; Jacky Salter, would bring the morning papers and Henry Lodge brought the

milk direct from the farm in big milk churns. He dished it out with those long handled ‘Gill’ measures, into mum’s jug. Mary Hazelwood delivered the post.

I remember the gas mantles, and receiving a sharp smack if you broke one. There were also the glass accumulator batteries for Dad’s ‘Wireless’, which had to be brought from the next village. You were in big trouble if you ever dropped one!

I remember sitting in our front room, ‘the Parlour’, watching the steam trains chugging up with the coal wagons towards Birdwell. One train in the front, and one behind. There was also the time when the working men’s club once took all the village from Dove Cliff station to

BARROW PIT looking from the Coking plant.

DOVE CLIFF STATION. All the crossing gates were locked when a train was due. You had to wait, or go over the bridge, even with a pram or bike.

GLASS accumulator batteries.

Cleethorpes. All the kids walked about a mile that morning down, to the station to board the steam train which was being warmed up ready for them.

We spent a lot of time at the farms when the steam threshing machines were there, and at potato picking time when each day we came home with a bucket

full of spuds. We saw calves, lambs, and piglets being born. Some mornings, after Sunday school, we all ran down to the butchers to watch him kill the pigs. The blood would run down into the gutter and then it would be flushed away with a bucket of water. He would then scrape all the hair off the dead pigs back using boiling water, and would pull out its toe nails, ready for

pigs’ trotters – it was wonderful.

Other people kept pigs in those days from which they produced fresh pork and black pudding etc, that is if they had a licence. Most families grew fruit and vegetables in gardens or allotments, and kept poultry, so despite rationing we didn’t go too short of food.

A lot of bartering went on. Dad and me both had our hair

WENTWORTH ROAD. Blacker Hill Chapel is on the right. The only remains now are the circular window stonework, set out on a bank, on the north side of the village just below Sandy Lane.

‘VINER’S HILL. Mrs Viner Cutts, who lived on the left hand side, at the top, ran a small shop from her front room, hence the nickname of the road. The ‘Top House’, as we called it, is now the only pub left.

cut for a dozen eggs! Later I went to Tal Lowbridges Barbers in Hoyland for a Tony Curtis cut. He used a lit taper to seal the ends of your hair, and then asked ‘anything for the weekend sir?’ We never knew what he meant!

Dad once asked me to help him catch a big rooster which had pecked at mum’s foot. What I didn’t realise was that he was going to wring its neck and cook it for dinner.

As kids in the holidays and weekends, we went out after

breakfast and didn’t return till tea time. We played in the surrounding woods and fields. Some swam in the ponds in Wombwell Woods, and in winter we used the big curved Anderson shelter tins to sledge down the fields. We used to ride coal buckets through the woods, unless bobby Hannan caught us. Then we got a good hiding, and another when he took us home to our parents. All our dads wore big leather pit belts, which were a very good deterrent (until next

time!). I wish I had a pound for every time my father ran me around the kitchen table with it.

We knew the names of all the trees and wild flowers which grew around were we lived. We also all had a collection of birds eggs. Blackbirds’, sparrows’, thrushes’, and even woodpeckers’. We all knew where to find the nests. We caught frogs, toads, newts, rabbits, hedgehogs, and various fish. We bred white mice, and rabbits.

We had a wonderful education

BLACKER HILL looking south. Beaumonts post office is on the left of the photograph and then two Public houses, the Blacksmiths Arms, and The Travellers Rest. The working men’s club was on the right.

A PANORAMIC view from top of the ‘Donkey Fields’. Notice all the allotments. This picture was taken in about 1930. FORTY STEPS. It was over the railway just left of Sandy Lane. It is now start of a new walk from Sandy Lane to Worsborough through what was Barrow pit spoil heaps.

then, no health and safety, and no one seemed to get hurt.

Things seemed a lot different in those days every one pulled together. Maybe it was because of the war, I don’t really know, but one thing is sure, there didn’t seem to be that struggle to do better than everybody else, maybe because no one had much money. It was enough just to get

by. You felt good to get an undercounter tin of salmon from the Co-op. Or to have a joint of beef for Sunday dinner instead of corned beef, spam or stew meat. Incidentally, our Co-op No. was 89464 – what a memory!

One regret though: I never appreciated the sacrifices that my mum and dad made, sheltering us from the horrible things

happening overseas, and it’s too late now to say thank you. Thanks to them and lots more people, we certainly lived in the best of times.

BLACKER HILL JUNIOR School photograph dating from around 1918. It shows my mother, Irene Francis (circled). Front row left to right: Lesley francis, Gordon Sykes, -, George Wood, Norman Davis, Joe Smedley, Ike Fearns, George Webb, Howard Hawkins. 2nd row left to right: Bernard Jubb, –, Helen Hazelwood, Muriel Dodson, Charlotte Grimshaw, Vera Wilson, Florence Fearn, Stanley Hurst, Henry Tolson. Headmaster Mr Blackledge. 3rd row left to right: Harry Dodson, Arthur Dodson, Sarah Armer, Ruth Caddock, Aritha Wroe, Annie Holroyd, Cathleane Mountford, William Hurst, Arthur Metcalf. Back row left to right: Maggie Wroe, Annie Hartley, Violet Haigue, Annie Butcher, Ezma Brown, Ciccy Alan, Audrey Chapel, Irene Francis, Helen Douglas.

BLACKER Hill Junior School.

DOVE CLIFF ROAD. The station was straight ahead. Sandy Lane was right, and Barrow Lane went down to the left.

View from Smoothing Iron. It was the first time I ever saw this field ploughed, so I took the photograph. The overhead cables were for the coal buckets from Wombwell Main.

Barnsley drayman killed at Smithies

George Brown, aged 57, a Drayman, of 6 Newton Street, Barnsley was run over by a dray on Saturday evening, 2 April, at Smithies and died at the Beckett Hospital early on Sunday morning. The deceased, a strong man, and a steady reliable servant had been employed by the late Mr John Atkinson, hawker and general dealer of Newton Street to whom he bore a certain amount of resemblance.

On Wednesday week Mr Atkinson, whilst labouring under temporary insanity, drowned himself in the canal. His body was taken, by the people who recovered it from the water, for that of the now-deceased George Brown, and it was taken to his home and laid on the bed before the mistake was discovered. This was a great shock to Mrs Brown, who is herself an invalid. Mr Brown went on with his work as usual in connection with Mr Atkinson's business.

On Saturday last, he went out with a dray, hawking in the usual way, being accompanied by a youth named Charles Snowball of 45 Somerset Street, who when told of the incident of mistaken identity replied that he 'was worth a good many dead folks yet'. All went well on the journey, and between six and seven o'clock in the evening, the deceased, riding with Snowball on the dray, passed through Smithies. Somewhere about the Woodman Inn the deceased handed the reins to Snowball to hold whilst he lit his pipe. As he was doing this the near front wheel came off, the side of the wagon on which he sat was let down and the deceased, taken wholly by surprise, was thrown between the shafts on to the horse's heels. The animal bolted and the wheels of the dray passed over the deceased and he was picked up helpless, and was taken to Beckett Hospital by some men who had been following in a dogcart along the road. He was badly hurt but remained conscious, and was able to speak until just before his death at a quarter past one on Sunday morning.

Mr Atkinson was interred on Sunday afternoon, the day on which the man for whom he had been mistaken, died.

Mr Taylor held an inquest at Beckett Hospital on Monday, William Brown identified the body and the youth, Charles Snowball, who had been kicked by the horse said that he was very lame and weak. He fainted when beginning to give his evidence on how the accident had occurred. He said they had just passed the Woodman Inn, Smithies, witness was holding the reins, deceased was lighting his pipe. They had finished for the day and were on their way home when the near front wheel came off, and the deceased fell forward between the shafts and the horse's legs. The shafts fell on the horses legs, and the animal set off at a gallop. Witness held onto the horse and stopped her, then jumped off and the horse started again and was stopped by another young man. Witness ran back to deceased and saw some men putting him into a dogcart. Witness examined the wheel and found the pin had broken off. It had seemed to be all right before. Henry Bumsted, house surgeon, said the deceased had several ribs broken on the left side. He was conscious and able to speak until almost up to the moment of his death. He said the wheel came off and let him down. He didn't blame anybody. It was not improbable that some of the broken ribs had penetrated the lungs causing death.

A verdict of 'Accidentally killed' was returned.

The Barnsley Chronicle of April 1898 told the unsual story of a man who was mistakenly identified has having died,only to then actually die in an accident some days later.

Taken in the 1950s, this photograph shows the scene of the accident outside the Woodman Inn (shown on the right) on Wakefield Road, Smithies.

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