Open Writing

Recollections of Thomas Firth and John Brown Limited

In November 1947, I first saw Gate 36, Savile Street, in the east end of Sheffield. I was sixteen and had left Eckington Grammar School after just two months in the sixth form - we needed the money and didn't know any better.
I was with my mother at the time. Can you imagine - going for a job interview with your mother at sixteen.

My mother had arranged the appointment. She worked in the Directors' Dining Room and knew the Shaw brothers. She was closest to Harry Shaw and told him she had a son who was sixteen and very bright. Mr Shaw was certain that Norman Wareham was looking for a new apprentice in the Commercial Drawing Office and said he would let her know. Harry Shaw was fond of my mother.

Norman managed the drawing office and sat at one end, behind a windowed partition. He shared the space with his deputy, Arnold Worsman. Arnold was hard of hearing. He wore a large, brown Bakelite deaf aid and played games with it. Sometimes he turned it down and heard nothing. Most times he heard but pretended he didn't.

Mr. Wareham was waiting for us.

The smell of prussian blue dye in the 'Print Room' grew stronger as we crossed the yard of Gate 36 and mounted the uncovered stairway to a corridor at the top. The chemical odour was pungent and unique and faint traces linger still. I can see the girls now but can't remember names - Pauline was it? Their overalls and hair reeked of the ever-present blueprint dye The girls who got on the Woodseats tram at Cunninghams pickled onion factory had the same problem - only the smell was different.

The drawings produced in Norman and Arnold's office were on linen, fine linen with a transparent pale blue coating. Linen 'blanks' were available to the draughtsmen in different sizes with T F & J B Ltd printed along the top and with identical boxes in the bottom right hand corner for, Drawn By........, Checked By......., and Passed By.........

'Checked By' was Arnold. All dimensions were meticulously checked with a green dot and signed off in green- 'AW'.
'Passed By' was Norman, who used a glowing, opaque red ink and confident 'NW', as final authorisation. The drawings were in black Indian ink on the linen and the apprenticeship was a long one.

I liked Mr Wareham immediately. He was completely bald, amiable and smiley. I was very impressed by his desk. It was huge but neat and technical, with everything precisely to hand, the iridescent red ink prominent next to the latest design Slide Rule.

He greeted my mother smilingly and with enthusiasm. Mr Worsman I was less certain about. Dark hair and complexion, and a seemingly scowling and serious disposition, the large brown plastic deaf aid slung from his neck.

On the other side of the glass, white-coated men and women worked diligently at drawing boards with tee squares and set squares. Modern 'draughting machines' would come later. The room was gritty with Savile Street dust, which settled on edges and early Anglepoise lamps. Arched windows with grimy panes grudgingly admitted pale ochre light from the road. supplementing its feeble counterpart from the yard corridor. A sink I was to get to know stood at the far end,

Mr Wareham seemed to like me too. The interview was short and the drawing instruments were the only area of potential problem. Wilf Shaw entered and interrupted with apology. Wilf was old - in his early fifties. He suffered with his sinuses and had a variety of nose inhalers in his pocket and on his shelf. Wilf did the 'roll weights' for the rolling mills and had a large complex calculator on his desk, along with musty ledgers and several inhalers. The ledgers were maroon some with leather covers. All were gritty and held details of weights of rolls going back many years. Wilf's desk was next to the new, dark green, vertical filing cabinets and was at the opposite side of the room to the line of drawing boards. The cabinets were the latest thing in the science of filing drawings and were much admired by visitors. Wilf would be my immediate boss, at least for the time being, and Norman made the introductions. Drawing for me, was many months into the future and Wilf would acquaint me with my first duties on starting in two weeks time. He sniffed and left.

Norman turned to my mother and patiently explained the two-part process of making drawings in the Commercial drawing Office. First, the design was produced in the form of a pencil drawing; Ben Wood's current effort was retrieved from the main office to illustrate the finer points. A final ink tracing was then made on a linen blank and specialised drawing instruments were required in order to facilitate this latter aspect of the work. Norman's own set, very old but in pristine condition, emerged from his drawer gleaming on the faded velvet recesses of an antique wooden case.

Everything about the Commercial drawing Office seemed antique. It had a museum quality and smelled of decaying paper, iron and ancient blueprints. Musty and grit infested handmade cupboards, desks and drawers lined the walls. They were heavy and dark, made in Firth Brown's Carpentry Shop, many to Norman's precise specifications.

It was antique. The buildings were part of the Atlas Steel and Spring Works, opened by John Brown in 1856. Some of the dust in Norman's Drawing Office was original. Up the street, nearer the Wicker, Thomas Firth had built the Norfolk Works in 1851, together with his brother Mark.

John Brown was a good friend of Henry Bessemer. He made the first Bessemer steel train rails in 1861, the year he was made Lord Mayor of Sheffield. He and Mark Firth made the office of Lord Mayor and Master Cutler, eight times in the years to 1875. This was before Norman and Arnold's time by thirty years or more.

He turned to my mother again and correctly supposed that I didn't possess drawing instruments such as the ones he was showing us. In anticipation of the moment, the Lee Guinness representative had been persuaded to leave a very modern set of instruments, on sale or return, which Norman was able to recommend without reservation. The price was more than I thought, six guineas or £6.6s.0p. There was no way we had the money of course and stoppages from wages would provide the solution. They became my property within the year and I have and still use them occasionally.

All parties being satisfied, we were led through the office, past the sink and said our thanks and goodbyes at the top of Gate 36 yard steps. My first job interview and we'd got the job - mother and me. We were elated. We set off for the tram, from Weedon Street to Fitzalan Square (via Savile Street) with enthusiasm.

**

For more of Derek's entertaining words please click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=Derek+McQueen