For a time before going to the Grammar School I went with my Dad every Saturday on his country round to Wrawby and Barnetby. He had regular customers in those villages and while he went to one house I would go to a nearby house to ask "Anything from Mr Turner today?"
Sometimes the woman would come out to the van before making up her mind and sometimes I would be given instructions about her requirements. Then back to the van to get what she wanted. We started at about 8:30 a.m. and by the time we reached the White Horse pub at Wrawby were ready for the cup of tea that Mrs Mumby invariably provided.
Ada and Laurie Mumby had been our neighbours in Princes Street for some time before they took the pub. Laurie was bandmaster of the Brigg Silver Band and as was often the case had been found a job in Brigg. In his case the job was at Sergeant's brewery and the White Horse was tied to the brewery as were several pubs in the Brigg area. Like so many little breweries in England, it was taken over by a bigger name after the war and was eventually closed down. They had a daughter Avis (later Tossell) two or three years older than me who made a name as a singer. I last saw her in Scunthorpe in 1952 or 1953 as I was going to the station to catch a train to Doncaster, where I was studying part-time at the technical college.
She was going to Leeds to make a recording for the BBC so we had half an hour to reminisce before I reached my destination. After the war she and her husband and her Dad played a big part in resuscitating the Brigg Operatic Society
After seeing all the Wrawby customers it was on to Barnetby, usually reaching my Auntie Flo's house about mid-day for more refreshment, and soon after that Dad would buy me a twopenny bar of chocolate at a nearby shop. The last call was at a farm between Barnetby and Bigby and then home along the Caistor to Brigg road. There was a long straight stretch and Dad would get the van up to 60 miles per hour, or a mile a minute, and I loved that. My grandad used to give me sixpence when we got back to the shop. The van was then restocked and my Uncle Fred would set off on a round of Howsham, South Kelsey and Cadney. In the winter it was dark before he finished.
I had to give up the job when I started at the grammar school as we went to school on Saturday mornings, so my brother Ken took over for a year until he too went to the grammar school. Dad also did a shorter country round on Wednesdays and I would go with him sometimes in the school holidays.
After my grandad had his leg amputated in about 1933 or 1934, Dad got the job of going to the weekly cattle market at Barnetby to buy pigs. A train left Brigg about mid-morning and one came back at a convenient time in the afternoon; the trip to Barnetby only took about 7 or 8 minutes. I used to go with Dad occasionally. He would walk around the pens and decide which lot he wanted to buy. Pigs were auctioned and I never knew Dad was bidding, by the flicker of an eyelid, until I heard the auctioneer say "Sold to Charley Turner" in spite of the fact that it was Reg, not Charley, that now attended the market. Dad carried a thing like a shaving stick which contained a red substance which was used to mark the newly bought pigs with the initials CT.
Then it was off to find Mr Leaning who ran cattle transport trucks and who always got the job of getting the pigs to the slaughter house on Redcombe Lane. It was also necessary to get a license to move the pigs; I am almost sure this was obtained from the police who had a temporary office at the market.
The slaughter house was quite primitive; a little brick-built place no more than four yards square and two small adjoining pigsties. After the pigs had been killed by humane killer they were put into a large wooden bath of hot water and their hair was removed. The hot water system would have been regarded as a disaster by a time and motion expert. The pump from which water was obtained was about 30 yards from the slaughter house and the copper in which the water was heated was another 30 yards further away. This meant that every bucket of water used in the process was carried about 90 yards.
After the hair had been removed the pigs were lifted by the hind legs, using a block and tackle, and their internal organs removed. It took most of an afternoon for two men, Dad and Uncle Fred, to deal with two or three pigs. Liver and kidneys were saved and intestines were kept and sent away to a firm that processed them into sausage skins. Other innards were taken to a field in Redcombe Lane and dumped. Not very hygienic, but things were different in the 1930s.
Ada and Laurie Mumby had been our neighbours in Princes Street for some time before they took the pub. Laurie was bandmaster of the Brigg Silver Band and as was often the case had been found a job in Brigg. In his case the job was at Sergeant's brewery and the White Horse was tied to the brewery as were several pubs in the Brigg area. Like so many little breweries in England, it was taken over by a bigger name after the war and was eventually closed down. They had a daughter Avis (later Tossell) two or three years older than me who made a name as a singer. I last saw her in Scunthorpe in 1952 or 1953 as I was going to the station to catch a train to Doncaster, where I was studying part-time at the technical college.
She was going to Leeds to make a recording for the BBC so we had half an hour to reminisce before I reached my destination. After the war she and her husband and her Dad played a big part in resuscitating the Brigg Operatic Society
After seeing all the Wrawby customers it was on to Barnetby, usually reaching my Auntie Flo's house about mid-day for more refreshment, and soon after that Dad would buy me a twopenny bar of chocolate at a nearby shop. The last call was at a farm between Barnetby and Bigby and then home along the Caistor to Brigg road. There was a long straight stretch and Dad would get the van up to 60 miles per hour, or a mile a minute, and I loved that. My grandad used to give me sixpence when we got back to the shop. The van was then restocked and my Uncle Fred would set off on a round of Howsham, South Kelsey and Cadney. In the winter it was dark before he finished.
I had to give up the job when I started at the grammar school as we went to school on Saturday mornings, so my brother Ken took over for a year until he too went to the grammar school. Dad also did a shorter country round on Wednesdays and I would go with him sometimes in the school holidays.
After my grandad had his leg amputated in about 1933 or 1934, Dad got the job of going to the weekly cattle market at Barnetby to buy pigs. A train left Brigg about mid-morning and one came back at a convenient time in the afternoon; the trip to Barnetby only took about 7 or 8 minutes. I used to go with Dad occasionally. He would walk around the pens and decide which lot he wanted to buy. Pigs were auctioned and I never knew Dad was bidding, by the flicker of an eyelid, until I heard the auctioneer say "Sold to Charley Turner" in spite of the fact that it was Reg, not Charley, that now attended the market. Dad carried a thing like a shaving stick which contained a red substance which was used to mark the newly bought pigs with the initials CT.
Then it was off to find Mr Leaning who ran cattle transport trucks and who always got the job of getting the pigs to the slaughter house on Redcombe Lane. It was also necessary to get a license to move the pigs; I am almost sure this was obtained from the police who had a temporary office at the market.
The slaughter house was quite primitive; a little brick-built place no more than four yards square and two small adjoining pigsties. After the pigs had been killed by humane killer they were put into a large wooden bath of hot water and their hair was removed. The hot water system would have been regarded as a disaster by a time and motion expert. The pump from which water was obtained was about 30 yards from the slaughter house and the copper in which the water was heated was another 30 yards further away. This meant that every bucket of water used in the process was carried about 90 yards.
After the hair had been removed the pigs were lifted by the hind legs, using a block and tackle, and their internal organs removed. It took most of an afternoon for two men, Dad and Uncle Fred, to deal with two or three pigs. Liver and kidneys were saved and intestines were kept and sent away to a firm that processed them into sausage skins. Other innards were taken to a field in Redcombe Lane and dumped. Not very hygienic, but things were different in the 1930s.
Many more memories to come from Cliff via Brigg Blog
1 comment:
Very interesting..
1. The White Horse pub in Wrawby was re-named the Black Horse to avoid confusion with the Brigg's White Horse.
2.Before the Redcombe Lane school site of the Vale was constructed, there was a barn-like + small brick buildings to the west of the row of cottages..where these the pig-sties?
3. The Brigg Silver Band actually formed in Wrawby, under the name Wrawby Silver Band in about 1860. It practised in the Primitive Methodist Chapel in Little Lane.
About 1900, band practises moved to the Dying Gladiator and in about 1903ish, changed it name to Brigg Silver Band.
4.In the C19th most of Brigg's slaughter houses were in Elwes St..the called the Butchery..and before that, the Shambles.
Animal waste was washed away into the Ancholme.
Post a Comment