Open Writing

My father started work at 13 at Josiah France Ltd. in Honley. In those days, 1894, Josiah France himself was still running the mill, and he lived in a big house just up on Hanging Stone Road. Quite often it was his practice to come down some stone steps cut in the hillside and call in at the Grove Inn, just round the corner from the mill, and have a tot of whisky.

They had a special arrangement at Josiah France’s whereby the mill whistle blew two minutes early at dinnertime to enable any of the men weavers who had been at the Grove Inn for a gill of beer to get back and be ready to start their work promptly.

One day Josiah France was in the Grove Inn when the mill whistle went and the men cleared out. On this particular occasion for some reason he decided he’d like another drink, so he pushed his glass over to Amos Broadbent the publican and said, “I’ll have another whisky today Amos.”

“Tha weean’t, tha knows,” Amos replied. “T’mill whistle’s going for t’wark fooak. It’s blown for thee anowl ¾ so get thee off to thi work!” And he wouldn’t serve him.

For the bulk of his life my father worked at John Brooke and Sons Ltd., Armitage Bridge Mill, where I also eventually started. Mr. William Brooke, the boss, lived at Honley, and round about the turn of the century he travelled on horseback.

The mill worked until one o’clock on a Saturday. One Saturday afternoon Mr. Brooke was coming clip-clopping along Berry Brow Wood around half past one. He came to the Grove Inn at the far end of Berry Brow Wood and saw one of his weavers come out.

In those days the bosses knew all the work people, and so he pulled up and said, “Oh hello, George, how are you?”

“Hey I’m fair champion, Mr. William. I’ve just done what you daren’t do.”

Mr. Brooke asked, “Oh what’s that, George?”

“I’ve just spent my last shilling!” George replied.

Mr. William Brooke was so tickled with this that he put his hand in his pocket and gave the worker half a crown.