The Life of Henry Hiley Part 10 - life in Littleborough (Slaughterhouse, Tripe Shop, Peg Factory)

Today is the last post in Henry's description of life in Littleborough as he was growing up.

United Gathering on the Square, Littleborough
Whit Friday 1909 

The Slaughterhouse

At the top of Victoria Street there was a slaughterhouse. Milner Eastwood was the pork butcher and he would buy little pork pigs, keep them for a day or two, perhaps a week or two, I don’t know what, and that was in a place down at the very bottom of Victoria Street. Then when the time came for the pigs to be killed he would drive them up, a couple at a time. There would be Herbert, as I think of him now he was a weedy sort of chap, but there was Charlie, he was much stronger, and he was much better at actually killing the pig. We used to look through a crack in the wall, and with a poleaxe Charlie would stun the pig and then he’d cut its throat. Then he had Herbert to help him put the pig into a big bath of very very hot water. That allowed him to shave it. He took off all the bristles and then he went through the process of taking out the inside and all the rest of it.

The Tripe Shop

There was a tripe shop in the village as well. I can’t remember if that belonged to Milner Eastwood as well or whether it was a different man but he boiled his tripe in a little place, I would say in our back yard . It was a good 50 or 60 yards away from our back door, but he would boil up the tripe and then he’d take it to his tripe shop to sell. I never had a great fondness for tripe but of course there was a lot of waste and that was put on a little midden and that attracted the mice, and often enough I would take a mouse trap across there, catch a mouse and feed it to our cat.

The Peg Factory

There was a little shuttle peg factory across there as well. That was a noisy business but the metal was hotted up just like in a blacksmith’s smithy, for shoeing the horses. I won’t try to describe that process but it was interesting to watch, and it was pretty noisy – bang bang bang all the time as the hammer came down to shape the metal to make the shuttle peg for the weaving, for the cotton industry.

Views of Littleborough c 1930

William Hiley Bathurst

This Blog is mainly concerned with people who bear the Hiley (or Highley) surname, or who are related to a Hiley (or Highley). But there have been several instances over the years where Hiley has been used as a forename. One of these was William Hiley Bathurst, 1796-1877, an Anglican clergyman and writer of hymns.

William Hiley Bathurst

There were some notable people amongst William's ancestry. He was the son of Charles Bathurst and Charlotte Addington and the grandson of Anthony Addington, a Royal Physician, and Mary Hiley - from where his second forename came. Charlotte's brother Henry Addington, 1st Viscount Sidmouth, was the U.K. Prime Minister from 1801 to 1804. Mary Hiley was the great great granddaughter of William Hiley, Rector of Poole at the start of the 1600s, and Eleanor Haviland, a member of a prominent family with a history going back to Norman times.

Type 'Prime Minister' in the 'Search This Blog' box to learn more about Anthony, Mary and Henry.

Type 'Rector of Poole' in the 'Search This Blog' box to learn more about William and Eleanor.

William was born near Bristol and educated at Winchester and Oxford. He was ordained a priest in 1820 and served as rector of Barwick-in-Elmet in Yorkshire until 1852, leaving the ministry due to being unable to re­con­cile his doc­trin­al views with the Book of Com­mon Prayer. For some time he was M.P. for Bristol. He retired into private life occupying himself with literary pursuits, firstly in Derbyshire and later in Lydney in Gloucestershire.

He wrote a number of works and volumes of poems, and was one of the early Church of England hymn writers and compilers, producing many hymns and versions of psalms.

One of W H Bathurst's most popular hymns

W H Bathurst Christmas Card

The Life of Henry Hiley Part 9 - life in Littleborough (Market Day, Easter, Bonfire time)

Henry continues his memories of life in Littleborough as a young boy - this time, events at different times of the year.

Market Day

We used to like Market Day. All the children liked the Market Day. When I go back to Littleborough now it’s such a tiny spot. I can’t imagine that there were so many stalls there. Every Friday evening I remember Charlie Bottle. He was the man who brought in the naphthalene flares, one for each market stall, to light the place up so that people could see what they were going to buy. There were grocery stalls, sweet stalls, patent medicines, all sorts.

I remember one of the patent medicine stalls where the man said that he had a specific that would cure anything in the world, any ailment except for cancer, consumption and sugar diabetes. He made no claim to be able to cure those three ailments. Another remedy he had for anybody with bronchitis. There was plenty of bronchitis in Lancashire, in Littleborough in those days, people with bad chests and bad coughs, and his remedy for that was for to go out into the field, locate and scoop up a convenient cowpat, bring it back, slap it on the child’s chest, and he claimed that that would cure bronchitis. I don’t know of anybody who tried it.

Easter

Everything happened in its season. At Easter time we might expect little troops of players to come and act out the pace egg play on the street, of St George slaying the dragon. I remember Saladin always used to get knocked down and call for a doctor. ‘A doctor, a doctor, £10 for a doctor’ and the doctor would stride up with a top hat and tell us that he could cure anything. He said he could cure ‘the itch, the pitch, the palsy and the gout. If you’ve got 19 devils in your skull, I’ll drive 20 of them out.’

In the pace egg play I don’t think it was Saladin because before the fight there strode into the arena – ‘Here come I the Turkish knight. Come from the Turkish lands to fight’. And then there was a set-to with Saint George. The Turkish knight of course was defeated, and then he had to call for the doctor. 

Bonfire time

Before bonfire time, we might ourselves go around the streets singing, just like carol singers go now, collecting money for a good cause but in our case it was ourselves. We would collect money in order to buy fireworks. The ones that the boys liked were little demons. They cost a ha’penny apiece and went off with a big bang. There was a thunderflash as well. That was a ha’penny firework. That made a big bang. We liked less noisy fireworks. Snowfire was a particular favourite. That made a splendid white light – beautiful. Chrysanthemum fountains, they were a bit more sparkly. The pinwheels were alright as long as you could get them to go round. The jumping jacks – they were favourites. We had sparklers as well – they were alright. We never went in for sky rockets. I don’t know why.

The Life of Henry Hiley Part 8 - life in Littleborough (Games, Ealees, Songs)

In the next few posts Henry talks about life in Littleborough as a youngster with his friends. In this post: street games, going up Ealees and singing songs.

Games

We played all sorts of games on the street. We used to play cricket wherever we could, a bit of spare ground however rough. We would chalk wickets on the gable end of a terrace. About 50 years later I went with Christopher to Victoria Street. There were no wickets chalked still on that gable end but when we went to the old school, the Central school, on the playground I was very pleased to see there were still one or two sets of wickets chalked on the school wall.

We used to chase around in the Wesleyan chapel grounds at the top of Victoria Street and Sam Mills who lived in the top house on the opposite side of the street, he would shout at us to clear off.

We played Tig, chased each other. We rolled bullies, those were iron hoops. The girls used to have wooden hoops. We played Relivo - I can’t remember what that game was. Hopscotch, that’s fairly obvious. We even did some skipping but skipping of course was more a game for the girls. We used to play games under the street lamps in winter. I used to like to see the lamplighter come round with his long stick. He had a naked light at the end of it. The pilot lights were left on in the street lamps and it was up to the lamplighter to turn on the gas and light the…… it couldn’t have been the pilot light because he lit it with his long stick.

 

Ealees

We used to like going up Ealees. That was country really. There was a stream up there and there were fields. We used to go to the Parish Church cricket ground. It was so tiny that when a game of cricket was played in the Sunday School league a hit to the boundary only counted 2 runs. There were no fours. And there was a river there. We used to play in it or close to it and one time we were playing up there, about 6 of us in our gang, and an aeroplane came down on a field on the opposite side of the river. And we climbed up, we went dashing up the slope to get to the field and the pilot leaned out. He was lost and he asked us where he was, so we told him that he was in Littleborough and he was able to find out exactly where he was on his map and he took off again. I don’t know where he went to.

We used to catch newts in a mill lodge up there. A lodge would be the water supply for the local mill at Ealees. That was where Grandpa Kershaw used to work. There were newts there. Once I fell into the river. I was frightened to go home so I went next door instead to Mrs Hoyle and I dried out as best I could in front of her fire.

Songs

We’d go round singing and these were the songs. ‘Here we come a copper coaling for the bonfire time. With a pickaxe and shovel we want to provide. For the day, for the day, for the diddle i do day’. ‘My mother sent me for some water, for some water for my tea. My foot slipped and down I stumbled. De diddle iddle iddle diddle iddle dee.’ ‘All around the house. Try to catch a mouse. When you’ve caught it by the tail. Hang it on a rusty nail. Give it to the cook. To make pea soup. Hurrah boys, hurrah boys. How do you like the soup?’

The photo below was taken in about 1922, most likely in Victoria Street in Littleborough.

On the front row, 3rd from the right is Henry Hiley. Next to the back row are Henry's sisters Edith (5th from the right) and Agnes (7th from the right). Henry's other sister Mary may be on the far right on the front row. Their older brother Sam is not in the photo.

Joseph Hiley

About a 15 minute drive from Thiepval is the town of Albert which played a major part in WW1 and was the main town behind the lines for the Allies on the 1916 Somme battlefields.

Joseph Hiley is buried at the Albert Communal Cemetery Extension in the town.

Joseph was from Yardley, Birmingham, historically in the county of Worcestershire. He had 4 brothers and 2 sisters and in 1911, aged 16, his occupation was a Wire Worker.

He joined the Royal Warwickshire Regiment, B Company, 10th Battalion. The Battalion was involved in the attacks on High Wood and the Battle of Pozieres Ridge. Joseph died of wounds received in battle on 31st July 1916, aged 21. His effects were sent to his father, also called Joseph.

A visit to Thiepval (4 - Leonard Hiley)

The post today returns to my trip to Thiepval in July and the last of the 4 names on the Memorial to the Missing of the Somme battlefields.

Leonard Hiley was born in Eccles, Lancashire in about 1885. He was educated at the Eccles British Schools. In 1905 he married Ethel May Whitehead in Weaste and they lived at 59 Knight Street, Eccles. Leonard and his father Beaumont Hiley were both Tripe Dressers. Leonard and Ethel May had 4 children - Dora (b 1906), Winston Beaumont (b 1910), Leonard (b 1912) and Gwyneth (b 1916).

Leonard was employed at the Ship Canal Sand Box Works at Weaste and enlisted in Salford in 1915 with the Lancashire Fusiliers 19th Battalion, the 3rd Salford Pals. He attained the rank of Lance Corporal. The Fusiliers' first taste of action was at Thiepval Ridge in the Battle of the Somme on 1st July 1916, the Salford Pals being almost wiped out. Leonard was one of those killed in action on that day.

An online 'Database of the Missing' can be viewed on the computers in the Visitor Centre at Thiepval. Leonard is among the soldiers shown and the images below are taken from this database.

The life of Henry Hiley Part 7 - Starting at School, January 1924

Now it’s time I told you how I started at school. That would be when I was 5 years old in January 1924. I was well aware of what went on at that school because of course I’d had a brother and 3 sisters who had either been there or were still there, and the routine that was drilled into my mind was that the children would be larking round in the playground, chasing each other, playing their games, and making any amount of noise, when the schoolteacher on duty, whether a man or a woman – it could be Mr Beasant, it could be Mr Forrest, it could be Bob Butterworth, it could be Alice Holden, it could be Clara Rubberneck as we called her, Mrs Riley, Mrs Allerby, Miss Wilson - whoever was on duty would come out with a bell, like a town-crier’s bell. And, clang!, whatever was going on in the playground had to stop, and if any child failed to stop what he was doing in whatever attitude, he or she was sent in to receive the cane. At the second ring of the bell the children would line up in their classes and they would be marched in, in the morning to a full assembly where we sang a hymn and said a prayer, or after playtime directly to the classrooms, and in the afternoon of course directly to the classrooms.

The photo below, taken in 1986, shows the playground at Littleborough Central School. Henry wrote:
This is exactly as it was when I first went to school in January 1924, except for the grey looking vestibule. 

Now then, on my very first day I was in the playground and decided that I needed to go across for a pee. The bell went. I was halfway across the yard. If I were to move I would be sent in to get the cane. If I didn’t go sharp I would wet my trousers. So what did I do? I had a pee there and then in the middle of the playground, and what the lady thought of me, if it was a lady, or a man, whatever the teacher thought of me, well that was it. In the first week or so I remember being sent home because I had dirty trousers but as far as I can remember there was no further such incident.

In the same class were, both boys and girls of course, all of us about 5 years old, no more, but in that same class was Barbara Kershaw. I remember one or two of the other girls as well – Alice Harrison, she was a cheeky thing, there was Matty Hacking, she was rough, and of course I remember a lot more of the boys. Especially on the street, we used to go out and play on the street, there was Geoffrey Collins who’s still alive, Edgar Chadwick, he’s dead now, Leslie and Albert Smith, Lesley’s still alive, Albert was killed in a street accident only a few years ago. I’m speaking now in the year 2002. The Smiths’ father was a butcher. Geoffrey Collins's father was a painter.

I liked school. I can remember my first reading lessons – c in cat, d in dog, and so on. I can remember some of the decorations on the classroom walls. They were pretty basic and I was surprised when I went into that school some twenty or more years later to find that some of the classrooms had still the same decoration as they had had in the 1920s.

The photo below shows Henry's class of 42 pupils at Littleborough Central School in the mid 1920s. Henry is 6th from the left on the back row and Barbara Kershaw is 4th from the left on the row in front. Henry and Barbara married in 1944.

Samuel

This is the 200th post in the Hiley Blog.

To celebrate this landmark, here are photos of one of the newest members to join a Hiley family.

Samuel Jonathan Hiley de Jesus Born in Madrid, Spain 20th June 2024

Samuel with his older brother Gabriel

The life of Henry Hiley Part 6 - Henry's Grandparents' house in Walsden

In this post Henry talks about his grandparents' house in Walsden.

Sunny View, that's where the grandparents lived, they had an interesting house. Grandad had bought a property about 1923. The deeds - I'm sorry that we don't have a copy of the deeds – but they went back to the year of Trafalgar, 1805, and in 1805 there had been built into the hillside at Walsden this block of nine rooms, three by three. They just went back the depth of one room into the hillside. The shop had five of the rooms on the low road. There was the bakehouse built into the hillside. In the middle was the living room, very tiny, and then there was the shop. Above that two bedrooms belonging to that complex, over the bakehouse and the shop. They were still into the hillside – there was no way out at the back, quite solid, and then on the room over the shop, that was free-standing. That came out on to a steep back lane and that was the Grandparents' living room and above it they had the bedroom. Theirs was a two-room dwelling. That left two rooms still on the top floor and they were single room dwellings.

Henry's plan of the property:

The property in Walsden 
(155, 157 & 159 Hollins Road)

The first person I remember living in one of those was Aunt Clara, that was Father's Aunt Clara, and later Grandad went to live in that particular one and later again Mary took the other one, the third on the way up. She lived there for a short time after she’d come out of the convent at Burghwallis.

Mary's apartment
(One room dwelling no. 3 on Henry's map)

The property had been bought by Grandfather round about 1923/4. When he died it was left to his three children, that was Uncle Frank, Father and Aunt Annie. Eventually it came to belong to Father. It was let out. The shop was rented by Bert Hird. He was the uncle of Thora Hird, the actress. He had the five rooms. When Grandad died then of course no member of the family lived in any of the apartments but my father did eventually go back there and lived in the first, going up the hill, of the one-room dwellings. Mark you, my grandfather had moved up there before then, and he lived the rest of his life there after Grandmother died except for a day or two at the very very end when he went to Burnley and died at Aunt Annie's.

Sunny View on Top o' th' Hill Road
(The Grandparents' house)

My father would go there, into the property, after he gave up Glaisby Cottage and Barbara and I took over the tenancy of it. When Father was very ill he came to live with us in Windermere. Agnes took over the ownership of the whole property. She lived in the shop and worked the shop. She didn't do any baking. She just had John Kenneth with her and managed to make both ends meet by looking after the shop. All in good time she took in Mary. Mary lived in the top floor in the last of the one-room dwellings. I think that was it. Eventually Agnes sold the whole property and we, as a family, had no further financial interest in the complex.

I can't remember that any of those houses of Grandfather's had a water supply actually to the house. There would be a supply, a cold water tap, to Bert Hird for his baking and for the shop, but unusually at that time and in that part of Lancashire, or the West Riding of Yorkshire, (we were very close to the boundary between those two counties) in working class homes, Grandfather had a water lavatory. There was a little washhouse outside, very close of course, where there was a cold water tap and where Grandmother used to do her washing, and alongside it was a water lavatory and directly below it was a water lavatory for Bert Hird and his family, for the shopkeepers.

The property's flag roof seen from Top o' th' Hill Road
(Henry mentions this above)

A visit to Thiepval (3 - Joe Hiley)

Today's post is about Joseph (Joe) Hiley, the third of the four names on the Thiepval memorial.

Joe was born in Torworth near Retford in Nottinghamshire in 1892. In 1911 he was listed as a ‘Ram Driver at Pit’ and when he enlisted in September 1914 a ‘Coke Oven Worker’.

Joe joined the York and Lancaster Regiment 8th Battalion where he became a Lance Corporal. He was killed in action on 1st July 1916, attacking Ovillers where his Battalion suffered 635 casualties. It was the first day of the Battle of the Somme. The Battalion suffered very heavy losses and most of the men were either killed or injured. His medals and effects were sent to his mother Hannah Hiley, widowed, of Wickersley in Rotherham.

The life of Henry Hiley Part 5 - Henry's Aunts and Uncles

Henry's father Harold had an older brother Frank and an older sister Annie. Another sister Agnes had died in infancy. Annie married Herbert Jackson and Frank married Martha Hannah Greenwood.

In this post Henry talks about visits as a young boy to his Aunt Annie and Uncle Frank.

Henry's mother Ethel died two months after Henry's 4th birthday.

Now of those four years I hadn't spent all four years at 72 Victoria Street, Littleborough. I take it that when mother was ill I was sent off for a few months, well I don't know for how long, to Burnley to my Aunt Annie and Uncle Herbert. Uncle Herbert was a parkkeeper at Ightenhill Park in Burnley. Annie was Father's older sister, Sarah had started nursing, Annie was still at school, at Burnley Grammar School, Willie - I don't know exactly what he was doing. I know I liked the house. I remember particularly there was a little pigsty quite close and I used to like to go and have a look at the pigs over the pigsty door and I used to love to see them crunching coke. I heard afterwards that for them to crunch coke, that was good for their stomach, almost like people with bad stomachs taking a charcoal pill nowadays.

This photo was taken on the occasion of Willis Jackson's wedding in Cheshire in 1938. From L: (Uncle) Herbert Jackson, Samuel Hiley (Henry's grandfather), Sarah Jackson, Ron Atkinson (who married Annie, Sarah's sister, (Aunt) Annie Jackson (nee Hiley)

Willis Jackson, Henry's cousin, receiving his DSc in Manchester

Whilst I was sent off to Burnley, Mary was sent to Uncle Frank and Aunt Martha Hannah. We all loved their house. It was called Bank Cottage. We always called it The Bonk and there was a big garden going down to the Rochdale Canal. Uncle Frank – I can't remember him growing vegetables, perhaps he might have grown a few peas, but he certainly grew flowers and people came from far away, well, from Walsden, to buy flowers from him. He kept hens as well. He had a greenhouse. He grew tomatoes in the greenhouse and always had one or two plants that produced yellow tomatoes. Those were a speciality. And the chickens – he used to hatch the eggs in his own incubator, then we children used to love to see the baby chicks pecking their way out of the shell looking pretty wet and sticky and bedraggled when they did get loose from the shell but quickly drying off under the lamp of the incubator and showing their fluffy, fluffy feathers.

Uncle Frank and Aunt Martha Hannah. Grace Annie (Henry's stepmother) is in the back

Bankwood Cottage, Walsden

 

A visit to Thiepval (2 - James Highley)

 

James Highley was a Rifleman with the Rifle Brigade (8th Battalion). He was born in Halifax and on the night of the census in 1911 was living at home with his 2 brothers and 2 sisters. His mother Emily Caroline, recently widowed and working as a Charwoman, spent the night elsewhere. James was working as a Painter’s Labourer.

The 8th Battalion was part of the 14th Division, 41st Brigade and was involved in the Battle of Flers-Courcelette in the Somme in September 1916. James was killed in action on 15th September 1916. His effects were sent to his sister Elizabeth Stott (nee Highley).

A visit to Thiepval (1 - Norman Hiley)

The Thiepval Memorial to the Missing of the Somme battlefields, near Albert in northern France, bears the names of 72,194 officers and men of the United Kingdom and South African forces.

Four of these men had the Hiley or Highley surname. Today's post features Norman Hiley.

Thomas Norman Hiley, born in 1889, was from Shipley near Bradford in Yorkshire. He was the youngest of the 7 children of Joseph and Sophia who survived, 4 having died young. In 1911 Norman was a Warehouseman.

Norman was a Sergeant in the East Yorkshire Regiment 7th Battalion. The Battalion was part of the 17th (Northern) Division. The Division’s first major engagement was in July 1916, when it fought in the battles of Albert and Delville Wood, both part of the larger Battle of the Somme. Norman was killed in action on the first day of this battle, 1st July 1916.

The life of Henry Hiley Part 4 - the Pie Shop

In today's post Henry talks about the making of pies at 72 Victoria Street. 

I remember, I suppose what had been the sitting-room of a terraced house had been turned into a shop and on the big front window was painted in green paint on the glass ‘Hiley’s noted pies, peas and chips’. And that was what happened when I first took notice. I suppose Father would make about a couple of dozen pies, no more, perhaps as many as three dozen when it came towards the weekend and there was a bigger demand, and he sold them all at tuppence ha’penny apiece. There was a discount if any customer came in wanting to buy a quantity. Five pies at tuppence ha’penny they could have for a shilling, saving themselves one ha’penny on the deal.

When the business became more prosperous then there was no room for the chip range. That had to go out. We’d had a chip range for the chips and there was a little gas oven alongside it in the shop where the pies were baked and where the peas were boiled. But when business became better then the chip range went out and Father installed a beautiful big coke oven – wonderful. Later on I used to go and sit in there and do my homework where it was so nice and warm. The shop kept open until bedtime. Not a lot of customers came in the evening but some did and they would perhaps get a warmed up pie for their supper.

We children were all expected to help with the piemaking - not with the making of the dough. There was a big flour bin in the shop and that held 10 stone of flour. I don’t know why wheat and cereals were always sold in bags containing 140 pounds weight of flour or meal or whatever. You could get a half bag, a small bag of 70 pounds, that was 5 stone. But however, Father did himself a mischief by lifting those bags, 140 pounds. He ended up with a rupture but of course was always a strong man when I remember him at that early age. Anyway, it was not self-raising flour, it was just ordinary flour, that went into a big kneading mug, and the lard went into the kneading mug. There would be a little salt added to it and Father would rub in the fat and the flour and the salt, and for the meat pies he would pour in a kettleful, well as much as was needed. I thought it was boiling water. I can’t think that it was boiling now, but anyway it was hot, it had come out of the kettle that was on the fire. And a wonderful smell.

That was for the meat pies. That made a harder pastry when the pie was made. For the fruit pies and for the custards he made his pastry with cold water and of course that gave nothing like the lovely smell of the hot dough being made ready for the meat pies, the meat and potato pies and the cheese and onion pies.

We did occasionally get a fresh one but it would normally be that if we got a pie for dinner it had been one that had been left over from the day before. We would eat it up rather than see it wasted.

The life of Henry Hiley Part 3 - living arrangements at 72 Victoria Street

In today's post Henry talks about some of the living arrangements at 72 Victoria Street.

There were three cellars in the house. There was a coal cellar where the coal was tipped and the coke. There was a wash cellar and there was a big cellar under the shop. And it was in the big cellar under the shop that we normally had a bath once a week. It was a long zinc portable bath. It had to be filled with hot water from the boiler and there was a drain down there. We didn’t have to carry the water upstairs and tip it outside. And whilst we still had the chip shop, whilst we still sold chips, there was a potato peeler there. It was like a drum, a big drum. The inside of it was like a nutmeg crater. There was plenty of water sloshing about in there, and it was turned by hand, either by Sam or by Father, and then, when all the skin had been rubbed off, then the eyes had to be picked out manually. I never liked that contraption at all.

The plumbing in the house was primitive. There were just two cold taps, one in the kitchen over the big slop-stone, and one down in the cellar. Any hot water had to be got either from a kettle on the fire or from the gas boiler. Well that was it.

The lavatory arrangements were even more primitive than you can imagine. We had to go across the back yard to the lavatory, there was a little house there and there were five houses in the terrace but there were only four lavatories. We shared with the Hoyles who lived next door to us. Now there were two pail closets, two facing east and two facing west, and in between there was an ashpit. All the rubbish was put into a great big tub and that was taken away once a week. About the worst job in all the world that I can imagine was the man who came once a week with the muck-cart and emptied the pales and then drove his horse and muck-cart I don’t know where. Whether it went to a sewage farm or not, I don’t know. We always believed that it was tipped up Calderbrook in a field up there, but it was awful. When Father went across he used to take his pipe with him. He was alright. He could smoke his pipe but the rest of us were much too young even to try a cigarette.

The suicide of Betsy Eastwood

For today's post I am indebted again to F.O.C.C.T. The story below is reproduced from their website with permission.

F.O.C.C.T. – Friends of Christ Church, Todmorden (focct.org.uk) 

Reuben Hiley (1862-1934) was a grandson of Reuben and Betty Hiley. Reuben (snr), known as 'Old Wraggs' lived at Nicklety in Walsden. He was a Road Labourer and Quarry Man and has already featured a number of times in this Blog. 

In 1918 Reuben (jnr) was a Canal Lock Man for the Rochdale Canal Company. He lived with his wife Sarah Ellen (nee Webster) at the Lock House in Gauxholme, Todmorden. 

Reuben gave evidence at the inquest into the death of Betsy Eastwood.

15.12 – John Edward and Betsy Eastwood

by adminon Posted onJune 23, 2023

Betsy Scholfield was the daughter of Samuel Scholfield (a fish hawker) and Sarah Ann Kershaw. She married John Edward Eastwood (a postman) at Walsden Parish church on 6th November 1902. On 25th July 1905, John Edward dies aged just 32 years old. Betsy moves back to live with her parents and brothers at 771 Rochdale Road. By 1918, it appears that it’s now just Betsy and her brother William living at the address. Her mother died in 1914 and at least one brother is currently fighting in the 1st World War.

On 15th January 1918, Betsy disappears.

(Todmorden & District News – Friday 15 February 1918)

MISSING THREE WEEKS.

INQUEST ON WALSDEN MYSTERY.

“Last Saturday afternoon, Deputy Coroner Norris held an inquiry at the Town Hall in reference to the death of Betsy Eastwood, of 771, Rochdale Road, Walsden, whose body had been found in the canal the previous Thursday.

Wm. Scholfield, brother of the deceased (with whom she resided), identified the body. Deceased, he said, was a widow, and was 43 years of age. She had not enjoyed good health for the past few years, and at the beginning of November she was attended by Dr. Stevenson for a nervous breakdown. The doctor told them she would want watching. She was hysterical at that time, but she seemed to improve somewhat, although she had occasional fits of depression.

The Coroner: Did she ever make any statement that would lead you to suppose she would do something? — Witness: She once said she thought she would never be right until she got into a wooden box, but when I have talked to her, she said we had no occasion to be frightened, that she would not do any harm to herself. She had fretted about her younger brother, who was in France, especially when letters did not arrive regularly. Witness went on to say that she disappeared on January 15th, and although inquiries were made amongst all the friends of the family, both in the district and at Littleborough and Rochdale, nothing could be ascertained as to her whereabouts. On Thursday, Reuben Hiley, of Gauxholme Lock House, told him they were going to draw off the water at Nip Square Pool, Walsden, so that they could repair the lock head. He went to see the water drawn off, and the body was found embedded in the mud in the middle of the bed of the canal. It was very bad to get at, and they had to get waders on, and get some pieces of wood, on to which they floated the body. On account of the position of her clothes he could not identify the body just then, but next morning he went down to the mortuary, and he had no doubt that the body was that of his sister, although her face was much swollen and dark coloured.

Reuben Hiley, Lock House, Gauxholme, spoke to drawing off the water at Nip Square, for the purpose of carrying out some repairs to the lock head. They found the body fast in the the mud in the bed of the canal, the head and the upper part being completely covered. The body had probably been in the water for some time, and would have remained there a long time if the water had not been drawn off.

Elizabeth Cryer, 1, Bar Street, said she prepared the body for burial. There were no marks on the body, but judging by appearances, it had probably been in the water a fortnight or three weeks.

The jury returned a verdict of suicide whilst of unsound mind.”

The Lock House at Gauxholme
Photo taken in 2018

The life of Henry Hiley Part 2 - the 5 children

Henry was the youngest of 5 children. The oldest, Sam, was born in 1908 at 174 Hollins Road in Walsden. The family then moved to Littleborough and the other children - Edith (1913), Agnes (1915), Mary (1917) and Henry (1919) were all born at 72 Victoria Street.

I noticed the gap between Sam and Edith, but thought nothing of it until it was explained by the birth and early death of Martha. I first learnt of her existence in 1983.

A search of the GRO online indexes revealed no birth or death certificates which recorded Martha.

Henry, Mary, Agnes, Edith, Sam
photo taken about 1922

I was born in the 'front' bedroom, above the shop, on 10th January 1919. 72 Victoria Street was the end house of a terrace. Sam and I used to sleep in the attic. We called it the garret, the room with a skylight, reached by a wooden ladder from the 'back' bedroom. The parents slept in the front bedroom. That was over the shop. Mary and Edith slept in the back bedroom. That was over the living room. And Agnes slept in the far back bedroom.

72 Victoria Street, Littleborough

Hiley Y-DNA Project Newsletter no. 3

The life of Henry Hiley Part 1 - the death of Henry's mother Ethel

A little late in coming, but as promised at the end of last year, today's post is the first in a series which will describe the life of Henry Hiley. These posts will be illustrated with some of the many photos which Henry left, and be accompanied with excerpts from his life story, 'HH remembers'. These were first recorded on to cassette tapes and then copied on to 24 CDs, and represent a wonderful collection of memoirs which cover Henry's entire life.

Henry was born on 10th January 1919 at 72 Victoria Street, Littleborough. His parents were Harold and Ethel (nee Heap). 

Harold and Ethel Hiley - possibly on their wedding day in 1903.
This is the only photo we have of Ethel

Henry as a baby

Henry at 72 Victoria Street

I can scarcely remember my mother who died of consumption in the spring of 1923. I was four years old. What memories I have are two, only two. One was of Dr Gorst, the family doctor, who used to let himself in at the back door, nip up the stairs to Mother’s bedroom. That was the room where I was born on January 10th 1919. He would leave his bowler hat on the chair at the bottom of the stairs, go up to examine her and then come down and go.

Another recollection I have is that when the weather was good, summer time, then Daddy would lift her, carry her downstairs and let her sit in a deckchair in the back yard.

The last, well there are now three recollections, because I remember the day that she was buried at Mankinholes. The coffin was standing in our tiny living room and the relatives were standing round. I noticed grown men and women crying and I wondered how it could be that adults could cry. I thought crying was only for children. However I now realise why they were crying. It had been a bad, bad blow for the family.

Ethel's grave at Mankinholes