Today sees the start of our new series,
Liverpool in the Roaring Twenties, where Wooltonian takes us back 80 years to a time of flappers and dockers, The Jazz Singer and The Great Strike, and a team called Liverpool winning titles.
PrefaceLiverpool was a black, dirty place in the 1920s. The intense concentration of soot produced by domestic coal fires and heavy industry shrouded the area in its opaque blanket. Garston Gas Works was a noted landmark which generated sufficient gas for many surrounding districts, including Speke and Woolton. Not only was the atmosphere in Garston heavily polluted with smoke and smog, it was also rank with the smell from the tanning yards. The stench on a summer's day meant smelling salts were totally un-necessary if anyone fainted in the heat.
Garston also was the centre of Liverpool’s coal trade. The docks were where the banana boats came in. I kid you not, my family probably saw a banana before most families in the UK, although working out how best to open one was a complete mystery and many still used a knife.
Britain's first birth control clinic, which opened in London in 1921, was in its way almost as important to women as the suffragette movement which had campaigned for the vote over the previous ten years. This clinic was founded by Dr Marie Stopes (not a physician but a fossil botanist, would you believe), whose book "Married Love" caused a sensation when it appeared in 1918. She aimed to give free consultations to poor women overburdened by childbearing, large families being the norm. For many years Marie Stopes was considered less than respectable and she faced a lot of opposition from clergymen and doctors.
Meanwhile in the Brodrick household, under the bridge in Garston, Margaret was coping with the demands of her 11 children. William and James Joseph the eldest pair had just returned from the first World War, William being mentioned in despatches by General Allenby for his bravery.
This was the arena into which my grandfather Peter was born and brought up.
The city and outlining districts were noisy with the clanking of trams, the rattling of horse drawn carts on the streets, the cries of coalmen, rag & bone men, paper boys and factory hooters which marked the different shifts.
"Peter, quick, grab the bucket and follow that horse"
"Peter, get a shift on lad follow the coal man". It was common back then for children to run after the coal delivery man and collect any coal which fell off the back of cart. It was my G's (great grandfather William) job to bring home the "cock wood" (long story).
Liverpool had a fine transport system. It had an excellent overhead railway and work on the forthcoming Mersey Tunnel, with its distinctive smell, was started in 1925 to alleviate the long queues which had started to build up at the Mersey Ferry Terminal. The whole area was covered by an extensive tramway network. Folk could clank along from Garston to the Pier Head by tram for a modest fare. Other destinations included Anfield, Wavertree and as far as Childwall. As the song has it :
'You can't go to heaven in a no. 3 car
'Cos a no. 3 car don't go that far'(though when you consider the number 3 went to Anfield, I think the lyrics may have been just a little bit wrong)
The trams had spiral staircases and a driver's cabin at each end. At the terminus the driver changed the points, the conductor changed the seats, the two men then changed ends and the tram set off in the reverse direction. Notices posted inside screamed 'No spitting allowed'!, as the habit helped spread TB (tuberculosis) which was a major health risk. It might seem strange these days but spitting was both commonplace and a necessity, as it helped clear the airways of the dust and the soot. Other diseases such as ephysemia, asthma and bronchitis were also a constant menace.
The outskirts of Liverpool were much greener than now; Hale Village and Speke, for example, were surrounded by green fields and Woolton and Gateacre were old fashioned little villages nestling amid farmland. Many people moved in from these country areas to dwell in the city tenements and became adopted Scousers.
Tenements were all rented and the procedure for young married couples was to start where they could afford. This was usually in a 'single end', a one apartment flat with an outside communal toilet. The wash house and boiler were shared on a rotational basis and washing was done with a scrubbing board. People then moved up the social ladder to the luxury of four or more rooms and kitchen with an inside toilet. (But not in our house, we never saw an inside loo until we moved to Woolton in 1965.) The kitchen had an old fashioned range; 'interior fires' were still to come.
Domestic and street lighting was by gas and 'Lankie' the lamplighter came round at night. Hot peas were sold in the streets, roasted chestnuts in season, and the rag and bone man came round with his cart offering balloons for the children. It was at this time my family ran a soup kitchen on the corner of Raglan Street. It was used by the Dockers on the way to and leaving work at all hours. My great grand-mother Margaret was not the best business woman though and she probably had the longest slate in Liverpool.
There was much horse transport still; coal lorries and carts with beer barrels trundled slowly around, adding to the dirt and dust of the cobbled streets.
Holidays for most people were confined to the 'Fair' when factories shut down for the second fortnight in July, or to the circus that visited Garston Park once a year. For some, holidays were spent at home where people could enjoy strolling in the parks, playing with boats in the ponds and feeding the ducks, sitting in the bandstands listening to brass music and enjoying the fun provided by, dare we say it, the 'Black on Black Minstrels'.
The more affluent enjoyed a holiday down the Mersey at New Brighton, West Kirkby or even Southport for the very rich, but the silting up was going to stop the Southport ferry in this decade. Travelling on one of the many steamers to one of the numerous holiday resorts where the attractions were abundant was a rarity due to cost. No one even dreamt of going abroad at this juncture in time.
Back in the city, Ma Egerton's tea rooms, with their famous plush interiors, flourished at all seasons of the year. Another famous eating venue was Cooper's in Church Street.
Despite all the dirt and poverty Liverpool was a lively vibrant industrial city making an apparent good recovery from the Great War. Part of this recovery was helped by great football players of the time which included Chambers, Forshaw, Hodgson and dare I even suggest it the legendary Dixie Dean.
Without these players lifting the doom and gloom of everyday life I would suggest most people would have given up on their pitiful existence. I kid you not, but "meat" (in whatever form it came) was a "treat" and a premium many families just simply could not afford. Scragg end of lamb was the best cut most could afford and so the legendary dish of Scouse was most people's favourite dish of the week. Steak egg and chips was a bloody long way off in my family's future. Nowadays my kids sneer if their Mam offered them anything without a slice of cow or pig on the plate.
Replica tops were also in the distant future, but if you could persuade an ex-player to part with one, this is what they would look like:
Not bad are they? Perhaps after this series they may become popular enough for a manufacturer like Toffs to produce.
So the story begins.1920's Liverpool, rickets diphtheria pox and TB were the main threats, but the Liverpool forward line looked just as dangerous when in full flow. This five part article will contain twelve match reports from the days when there were "Goals Galore".
© Wooltonian 2005Part 2 of Liverpool in the Roaring Twenties.
Part 3 of Liverpool in the Roaring Twenties.
Part 4 of Liverpool in the Roaring Twenties.
In the next part Wooltonian takes us to our first Merseyside derby of the twenties as Liverpool take on Everton in front of 55,000 at Goodison, and then it's the mighty Preston North End who visit Anfield.