John meets his wife - then through the depression

My mother's family (By Fred Mellor 11/12/24 - )

When Samuel Ellis, born about 1860, married Emily in 1890, they had a little house-cum-shop in Wakefield, and their family lived in that West Yorkshire city until Sam died in 1915. He was a herbalist and purveyor of remedies and medicines, with a sideline in homemade sweets. They had 6 children, born between 1891 and 1901, but I am not sure of their respective birthdays, only their displacements. Sam was not a qualified pharmacist, but his knowledge of herbs and remedies helped him to eke out a living, and probably influenced the botanical names of 2 of his offspring, Virginia and Sylvanus. Unfortunately, Virginia referred to as Ginny or Jenny, and Reuben (Hebrew for “behold, a son”) both died very young, and Florence, born 7th January 1893 became the 'little mother' to her younger siblings. My Dad called her Florrie, and my cousins Aunty Florrie or Aunty Flo but I know she preferred her full given name. Adult conversations referring to Mum’s younger days referred to licorice, pontefract cakes, toffee, rhubarb, arrowroot, yarrow (for bruises and sprains) linseed (for poulticing ), coltsfoot jellies and the like. Mum would speak of helping her father as a child, searching fields and hedgerows for herbs, plants and berries; by the time she was 13 she served at a stall in Wakefield open market, breaking up and weighing toffee and selling sweets etc. while her dad dispensed herbs and remedies. It was probably standing for long hours on cold stone flags that contributed to her sufferings in later life from varicose veins and bad feet. She enjoyed it though, or so she said, especially when she got home at night and the youngsters crowded round her picking scraps of toffee from her white apron and perhaps a piece or two stuck in her apron pocket. It never struck me at the time, nor did I ask the question, but surely, if they made the toffee at home there would always be

plenty of pickings for the kids; but that was not the system in those hard times, when every scrap of produce would be sold to help pay the rent. Similarly, in my youth, although Dad kept about 300 head of poultry, and sold birds and eggs, there was seldom a surfeit for our pleasure. I remember asking my Dad for the top of his boiled egg to help out my bread and dripping, and he said "Go on. Give 'em all an egg for their tea tomorrow, but use them out o' t'isinglass" (a preserving jar).

Sylvanus, Mum’s younger brother was known to me and my sisters as just Uncle Sil. Not too unusual a name as friends had relatives with strange biblical or historical names like Octavious, Jeremiah, Ephraim, Ewart and Nelson etc.. But Sil was a favourite Uncle. He seemed to know everything and was never stumped for an answer, could quote reams of poetry, biblical passages and could do magic, tell jokes and keep us amused for hours. We always enjoyed it when he brought his family visiting. Looking at his entries in Mum’s autograph book, he signs himself as Vilanus, O’Save us, Spokeshave and Shakespeare etc. Typical of Uncle Sil. His extract of Tamal Shud from Edward Fitzgeralds Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam first got me interested in that much quoted poem. A teenage friend of mine called Raymond Dunning bought me a small booklet of it which we both learnt and would recite verse for verse on Sunday afternoon walks. Sylvanus married Amy, a Wakefield girl and soon afterwards he emigrated to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) where their 3 chidren were born. He worked as a steam train driver on the Celanese (and sometimes Indian) Railways and later in management there. Aunt Amy enjoyed life overseas where she had a big house and servants, but Sil insisted that they come back so that Jack, Mary and Nancy could complete their education at English schools. Sil worked in Wakefield County Council Offices, and so, later, did Jack. He died in 1940 or 1941 and Jack joined the Royal Navy. Aunt Amy never seemed to recover from his loss and died in 1945. When I was home on leave once in 1944, I went with Mum and Dad to visit them hoping to see my cousins but all three were away in the Services, and Amy was not very well. We have had no contact since.

Doris was 6 years younger than Mum, but they were closer friends than most sisters, and she seemed to look up to Mum for guidance and advice most of her life.

John, or Jack as he was always called, was the baby of the family. He was a cheery character with a loud crackly voice. He worked at the coal face in Grimethorpe Pit and was a miner all his life. He was thin and wiry (Dad called him a wreckling once, but Mum objected). I considered him strong us he could swing me up onto his shoulders with one hand quite easily. He had married Winnie and lived in a Council (or Coal Board) house at Cudworth with their two daughters, Doris and Winnie. He reckoned that his lungs were half filled with coaldust and he died from consumption soon after retiring.

We have never heard from them since.

Most working class areas of the South and West Ridings suffered hardship, both before and after WW1. Jobs were hard to come by and money was tight. Samuel had died in 1915 and Emily married a Blacksmith, called appropriately John Smith, who worked in Grimethorpe Pit , was widowed and had a house there on the High Street. The ‘ready-made’ family moved there in 1916.

As Florence and Doris could not find work there they both ventured into Colne Valley and found work as domestic servants in various big houses in the Slaithwaite area. They eventulally got taken on in a woollen mill at Crimble, Pogson & Co. Doris however didn’t settle to mill work and whilst on a day trip to Blackpool found herself a job in a boarding house and stayed there. Florence carried on at Pogsons until 18th December 1918, according to her autograph book, a leaving present organised by her close friend Nellie Crompton. Florence had meanwhile found lodgings at Squire Mellors house on Crosland Hill, but how long she stayed there before returning to Grimey I don’t know, but it is considered that she remained in domestic service in and around Crosland Hill for about 12 months, say, till Christmas 1919. Again, clues from her book indicate Xmas 1918 at Squires, New Year week-end at Grimey, 19.01.19 at Squire and Ellen’s, between then and March Crosland Hill and Chapel choir people, and Easter at Grimethorpe. (Good Friday in 1919 would be 18th April)

During this time my Dad had come home on leave, possibly demob. leave. However, he was still in uniform and had come down from Felk Stile to visit his Aunt Ellen and Uncle Squire’s. Florence was helping Ellen prepare Sunday lunch. The fire was roaring away getting the oven roasting hot, the kitchen was stuffy and humid and perspiration was beginning to form in large droplets on the young girl’s face a she whisked the Yorkshire pudding batter. When she looked up and saw this handsome young soldier stood in the doorway regarding her closely, she was embarrassed. John was admiring this young lady with long silky hair secured to her waist with the apron strings and enjoying the embarrassment he was causing. Aunt Ellen said “Hello John. Are you going to stop and have dinner with us?”. Laconically, in his broadest dialect John replied “Depends wheer it leets!” referring to the droplet dangling from Mum’s nose possibly joining the pudding batter.

I’ve given you more or less my Mother’s version of their first meeting, but Dad , whether the occasion merited it or not would refer to it as being "her nose were running and I was waiting to see if it "fell i’t’ batter or she’d snook it up". He would cast aspersion on Mum on many occasions but I think he felt this was the macho way to be. He must have been attracted though for they courted and eventually married in October 1920.

Round about this time, either before he joined up or after demob. he worked for a while at the worsted mill both my sisters and I went to years later, John Edward Crowther & Sons Ltd. Milnsbridge. He was employed in the spinning and weaving sheds as a ‘reacher-in’ and as a ‘twister-in’. He was living at Felk Stile then and would go down Quarry Road then down a steep stony road called Deep Lane, (on a par with Sutton Bank near Thirsk), we used to call it Steep Lane.

However, the story goes that while he was sill new to the environments of a mill, he was encouraged by young mates to show them if he could do 10 ‘chin-ups' on an overhead pipe. Dad was proud of his physical prowess and probably pleased at the chance to show off to these idle mill workers. He leapt up and grasped the pipe firmly, not realising that it contained boiling hot steam, his hands ‘welded’ to the pipe momentarily and he fell to the floor in agony. They had wrapped his skinned and blistered hands in greasy rags, but on his way home, when he got to the foot of Deep Lane where a fresh water spring ran into a drinking trough, he plunged his hands in and doubled the pain. He used this episode as an example to us kids never to show off without knowing the odds.

The continuing struggles going on between Governments, men and management during this economic crisis are well recorded elsewhere. Suffice it to say that whilst stoppages, lock-outs and strikes meant that earning a steady wage was a fragile uncertainty, I have heard my Father say that he was never a “blackleg” yet rarely missed a days work. He had accepted the offered opportunity from Grandad Smith (as we knew him ), Mum’s step-father, to be his assistant, a Blacksmith’s Striker; and during a stoppage would come back to work in a quarry, cycling at week-ends between Huddersfield and Grimey, rather than lose money. More often than not though Engineers Blacksmiths, Pumpmen and Winders would be kept on at a pit for safety reasons during a stoppage.