Notes from Brickiln Street, Brierley Hill.

[TWG1947]

When he was 85 my father wrote down a few notes about his early life in Brickiln Street, Brierley Hill.
We've edited these and put them on http://www.the-curates-line.com/, but here's an excerpt from his notes.


There were three small shops up Brickiln Street, Mrs Wood at the bottom, Mrs Hitchen half way up, and Mrs Flukes at the top, we lived opposite Mrs Hitchen. The women congregated there to cant (talk and gossip), there would be my mother, Mrs Williams and Mrs Oliver, they would talk for hours, sometimes the only relaxation they had.

Then there were the men with horses and carts selling their wares, there was the fish float, the vegetable cart, and the man delivering bread to the shops. Then there was the rag and bone man collecting rags, scrap metal, jam jars.

It was a dead end street, except you could always try and sneak through the entry of Mrs Flukes into Chapel Street, at your own peril. It was alright if you had the bread which she sold, supplied by George Dunn, but many’s the time she’s sent me back cussing like mad.

If you wanted a haircut you would go up what we called ‘the well yard’ to Spurney Davies and for two pence (old money) he would cut your hair, leaving a fringe in front but bald all the rest. There would be five or six kids waiting, and as it was only a sheep shearing cutting stand on iron legs, someone had to turn the handle to make it work as Spurney used the cutters on your hair. All for two old pence!

Up the well yard there were fives houses all in a row and they had no back door only a front one, two bedrooms, a scullery and a living room. All had large mixed families and all had to mix in one way or another. There were a couple of shops, one at each end, you could always see a cat in the window amongst the food, there was no thought of disease, that was to come later.

There was a sweet shop on the main road where we could buy half a pennies worth (old pence), which was about two ounces.

In Brickiln Street there was Tom Bowder who kept pigeons, his own and other folk’s pigeons that he had caught. One time the police called to sort out who was catching all the pigeons off other people. Now there was a scuffle as half the street tried to let go the birds they had caught, some couldn’t fly though as they’d had their wing feathers clipped. George and Gittens were all on edge as Tom Bowder was prosecuted, all this bird taking had been going on for years and we were just behind the police station!

Tom’s mother and father lived in the street after living on the boats (barges) for all their lives, a nicer couple you couldn’t find. He smoked a small clay pipe, about 2 inches long, Mrs Bowder could tell the age of any horse by checking its teeth.

There was a retired regimental sergeant major, Elijah Collins, who had just finished his service and bought a mule along, this would be about 1919, which he rode up and down the street especially when he’d had too much to drink. One day the mule wasn’t enjoying it and threw Mr Collins breaking his arm. The mule then galloped off up the street scaring those out watching, Mrs Bowder walked up to the mule and coaxed it with her hand and soothed it with her voice.

Another time Collins and four or five of the men from the street went to Kinver for a drunken spree, on the way back at Silver End the wheel came off their mule driven transport, who knows how they got back.

There was a Mr Dovey, who had served in the army, whose family occasionally had a bust up smashing the windows, the dad would wield a sword about but when he was sober was a really nice fellow. He had two sons, one joined the army the other was a 'jack the lad'.
Jess Cartwright was a good gardener he grew all kinds of vegetables, he also kept a couple of pigs and used their manure to enrich the soil. His sister-in-law, Mrs Cartwright, took over Mr Hitchen’s shop when he passed away as he was her step-father.
There was old Jim Price my mother’s uncle who lived by the lamp post which drew us kids to play around, he usually threw a bucket of water at us to move us on.

Then there was Poppet an old lady about eighty, for years she organised the hop picking trips, we used to pick up old cigarette ends for her which she smoked in her clay pipe.

The one thing you could say about people in these kinds of streets was their willingness to help each other.

Mr. Walters, who collected insurance, had a crystal set. This was looked upon as a luxury, something out of this world. Wireless was then in it’s infancy and television was unheard of. Next door to Mr. Walters lived the bookmaker, and when I took dad’s bet they always gave me a penny. At the bottom of the street was the Swan pub where all the pigeons were taken to join the club race each week, during the week the yard there was used by Stan, a motor mechanic, and along side was an old building used by Sam who worked as a cobbler mending shoes, his stove was always alight, he walked with two crutches himself and he was a grumpy old devil.

[Northern Lass]

TWG this is fabulous!
thanks for sharing this

Do you think it would be ok with yourself if we added this to BCC site in the notes and put your father on.

We could find out who all these people are too and their connections
some might already be on