A WRATHALL FAMILY HISTORY, ACCORDING TO AN ACCOUNT SET DOWN
BY EDWARD WRATHALL (UNCLE NED), FOR THE BENEFIT OF HIS SONS.
(transcribed by Trudi Wrathall (née Craig) of Gisburn, Lancashire)
I see from the records my father (your grandfather) was born 18th. September 1863. I haven’t any record of the date, my oldest brother Frank was born, but as the next son James was born in 1889, we could assume that Frank was born in either 1887 or 1888. My father would be 24 or 25 when he commenced his family.

My Uncle Jim, the eldest born 1861, was presumably the first son to seek his fortune away from the homestead and he came into Lancashire, and took service with a family named Crook at Orrel Fold Farm, Bromley Cross, Bolton. The farmer’s name was Bernard Crook and he would be almost the same age as Uncle Jim. From what I subsequently gathered, Bernard Cross lived a fast life, mainly drink, and as a result died a young man, leaving a young wife, and two young sons, Bernard and John. Uncle Jim then apparently took charge of running the farm, and helping to bring up the two sons. It was a fairly big milk producing farm, delivering milk in and around Bolton.

It is fair to assume that Uncle Jim’s emigration encouraged my father to follow him down into Lancashire, and it was at the next village, Turton and Edgeworth that father met his first wife, a girl named Haworth. I think the Haworth family must have had money, and presumably my father must have had some help in setting up the dairy business in Bootle.

My father was always a farmer at heart, but his speciality was horses. When he went to Bootle he was still with livestock, in those days the dairies in cities like Liverpool had their own cows in underground shippons and the milk was sold and delivered direct from the premises. [Note: these men were known at the time as Cow-Keepers and the premises as Milk Houses].

Brothers, Frank 1887, James 1889, John 1892, by his first wife and George 1894 by my mother. Apparently the first wife died suddenly from pneumonia. My mother was named Humphreys and was maid to the establishment before she married my father.

Knowing Liverpudlians as I do, I don’t think my father had much chance of making a successful business in a place like Bootle. I expect it was a case of being unable to get his money in!

The family must have moved to Hyde sometime between George being born at Bootle 1894 and Stephen in Hyde in 1896.

On arrival at Hyde, residence was at Sundial and Woodside. I don’t know which was first, but neither stay could have been for long, because I was born in a cottage on Godley Hill in September 1899.

I don’t know what sort of a job my father had at this time, it could only be a type of labouring job, he would of course be a useful man at most country jobs, but it must have been a very thin time. I think my father must have got a job with the Corporation, as the next move was from Godley Hill to Albion Street, in the centre of Hyde. Jane was born in March, 1904. I don’t know at which address, as my first recollections were at 65 Corporation Street.

It is difficult to know how far back one can recollect facts from childhood, the first big event in my life would be my mother’s death in 1905. I would be between 5 and 6 at the time. The house was full of people for the funeral and somebody gave me a 6d., something I had never seen before, and it seemed like a fantastic fortune. I can’t remember what happened to it! My mother died of a fever at Harry’s birth, some mismanagement and which would not take place today. [Note: on the family tree, Harry’s birth is shown as 1906]

I shall have to retract a little now. I never remember brother Frank at Hyde, so presumably when the family moved from Bootle to Hyde, Frank must have been taken to his grandfather at Westhouse.

At the time my mother died, there would be Jim 16, John 13, George 11, Stephen 9, me 6, Jane between 1 and 2, and the new baby Harry. There was a family conference which finished up with Harry, being taken back to Bootle by my mother’s sister.

As I have already said, it is difficult to recall childhood memories, but nevertheless, certain things stand out which must have occurred prior to mother’s death. It is difficult in these times of plenty to realise what things were like with us at that time. Whilst there was no question of malnutrition, I have definite recollections of being allocated one slice of bread, Stephen two, and so forth at certain meals and eggs were always chopped in two.

I can scarcely remember my own mother, but I fancy she was auburn and slimly built, with a fairly quick temper, and I have the feeling that things between my parents could have had difficult periods.

Men did quite a lot of drinking in those days, certainly more than they could afford and I have faint recollections of tagging along with Stephen and presumably George, to a pub called the ‘Unity’ on Saturdays. I can only suppose we were either finding out if the old man was in the pub, and if possible getting his pay packet. I think men were paid on Saturdays in those days. Another thing about Saturday was that we never had dinner at home that day. We got a penny each and went to the chip shop in the next street for our dinner.

The first Mrs. Wrathall was presumably fairly tall, and as my father was 6’ 2”, it is not surprising that Frank, Jim and John were all big. The second family from my mother were only medium height, other than myself. Jim, the eldest at home and John took after father, and always appeared to be big. The job Jim had before he left home to go farming was as a blacksmith’s striker, so he must have been pretty hefty to manage that work. Jim was always a good looking lad, with a very pleasant disposition and good to get on with.

John was a big raw boned lad, given to bragging and flexing his muscles, and generally throwing his weight about. In those days all transport was by horse, and John’s first job was to work with the chain horses assisting heavy lorry loads up the incline to Mewton Station. Afterwards he got a job as a lather boy at a barbers, where he learnt to cut hair and he got plenty of practice on me and Stephen.

George was short on inches and weight, and John used to try and lord it over him and they fought like hell as lads. George had a vile temper and made up with ferocity what he lacked in weight. John did not have it all his own way by any means. It is strange to think how limited things were in those days and yet how much we got out of simple things. The only toy we had was what was called in those days a magic lantern, with slides on to the wall on some sort of white background. I don’t know where it came from, but it certainly was magic in as much as it survived for years, and was cheered on every occasion it was displayed.

65 Corporation Street where we lived during most of the period was a four roomed cottage. The front door opened into the living room, and the back door into the back yard. All our childish pursuits were in the back room or kitchen as we called it. We spent very little time in the living room, and practically none when my father was at home. He had been reared hard and we were to some extent brought up the same way.

To us kids he was a clone ‘God’, we never addressed direct or asked him questions. When he spoke to us in nine times out of ten, it would be an order to do something, and a back answer was unthinkable.

In early childhood we only had the absolute essentials in everything. I don’t remember any of us ever wearing coats even in winter. I only remember one coat which was of the Inverness Cape type and this was repeatedly handed down and used on rare occasions. Yet winter or summer we were never indoors, apart from the magic lantern concerts we had in the kitchen, which would include a full house of us, and other kids until a scrap started. Then we were all cleared out in quick style by the old man.

Fortunately for us the Corporation Stables were behind the cottage at that time, and as father was now in charge of them, we had the run of the stables. On bitterly cold nights we would resort to the stables and fill our bellies with the carrots bought as a treat for the horses.

We had two bedrooms, both would be about twelve feet square. We had two double beds in the back room, presumably Jim and John sleeping in one, me Stephen and George in the other. We had excellent eiderdowns. They were new horse cloths with Hyde Corporation stamped on them in black letters. As a small child, I can remember playing with the straps and buckles on the outside of the bed. We had some wonderful fun in that bedroom. The old man used to leave the house about 6 a.m., after which time we became active, leaping across from bed to bed, pillow fights, etc.. The stables at the back of the house were a blessing to us in many ways. The old man loved horses, and his liking rubbed off onto us. We were amongst them daily, and knew all the carters by their first names, similarly the horses. The old man was always dressed in horsey fashion, knee breeches and leather leggings. The stables and horses were kept beautifully clean. Each man had his own horse and took great pride in looking after them. We had one or two good friends amongst the carters, one particularly called John Marlowe. He used to keep little tit bits for Stephen and me, and he could do something which I have never seen anyone else do. We would go to see him when he came in at night and if he had an apple for us, he would take it in his two hands and with a twist he would split the apple completely into two parts, and give it to us. He used to invite us to his home particularly around Christmas and give us a good feed. We naturally looked forward to Christmas as all children do, and we always hung our stockings up and were delighted to find an apple, orange, nuts and a sugar pig. I can’t recollect anything much else.

You may think I am painting a very poor picture of things which is the last thing I wish to do. We actually lived a quite happy childhood, which by its restrictions only increased the depth of pleasure which one enjoyed when the occasion arose. There seemed to be always things to look forward to and enjoy, such as the May Day Parade, with weeks of preparation of the horses, their harness, carts scrubbed and polished. Miles of coloured ribbon were used. All the chains were put in bags of sand and the bag was fastened to the wall and you spent hours moving it back and forth, making the chain immaculately polished. All this was repeated in midsummer annual parade and many other festivities. Where we lived we seemed to be in the centre of things. The Fire Station, Theatre, Town Hall, Market Place, shops were all within two minutes.

Father’s duties now included driving the Fire Engine, Fever Ambulance and Accident Ambulance, and on alternate weeks was on call both day and night. All these vehicles were horse drawn, with the drive fully exposed to all weather and with respect to the Ambulances, most of the journeys would be to Manchester seven miles, or Ashton or Stockport both five miles, bitterly cold journeys in midwinter.

When my mother died things must have been chaotic for a time, but in those days people lived so close together that some sort of help always materialised when needed. In those days there were no full time firemen as we know them. All the policemen were fire trained and as far as possible, lived within a minute’s running time of the Fire Station, just off Corporation Street, where we lived.

Where the Fire Station was, was The Avenue where all the houses were allocated to policemen, every house including ours was equipped with a very loud sounding bell, all activated from the Fire Station. When a fire occurred and whenever we kids were not at school, as soon as the fire bell rang, we would run to the bottom of The Avenue and have great fun watching all the policemen, on night duty, and aroused from their beds by the bell and running like the devil. They had practically nothing on but their trousers, as all their fire fighting clothes, helmets, etc. were at the Fire Station.

During the day, the old man would be at the Station and by the time the men arrived he would be waiting on the box and ready to leave. It was a real thrill to watch the performance. The fire horses were immediately positioned behind the engine, and were more or less trained. When the general alarm went, the doors in front of the horses opened, they slipped their fastenings and moved forward to the engine. Their harness was suspended overhead and dropped onto their backs and were quickly secured. In the matter of two or three minutes from the alarm, the engine would turn out fully manned with a glorious jingle of bells, clashing hooves, etc..

This brings me back to my story. Father was rubbing shoulders and was quite friendly with all the policemen and there was an awful lot of jealousy amongst them, fighting for promotion and so on. However, whilst he was with them, he was not of them. They were under the jurisdiction of the Chief Constable and they had to tread very carefully indeed in those days. The slightest little step off a very rigidly enforced line of conduct and they were in serious trouble. Father was responsible direct to what was know as the Watch Committee, so he was more or less independent. This seemed to make him a type of father confessor for most of the policemen. Anyway, one of the policemen, a chap named Butler, who like us had a house full of kids, looked around for some means of assisting us. Mrs. Butler persuaded a young lady who lived near them, and was not working to assist us temporarily. She would be 26 at the time, ten years older than Jim and father would be 38 or so.

Fortunately as kids we were well house trained and we were able to give our new strange lady plenty of assistance. In due course she became Mrs. Wrathall but only after very severe opposition from her mother, who would have nothing to do with us for some time. She eventually came round, and Stephen became quite a favourite of hers, running errands and so on.

Almost immediately, Jim left home to start farming with Uncle Stephen at Nappa.

At every opportunity, father would go to Nappa and we lads always went there for all our summer holidays.

When Jim finished his time at Nappa, John then followed. In the meantime George had gone part time as 12 into one of the cotton mills and it did not suit him very much. George, Stephen and myself went to Nappa for our usual holiday, and of course John with his farming experience was bigger, and stronger than ever. He plagued poor George and it culminated in a scrap in which John fastened George in the dog kennel. I don’t think that George has ever been to Nappa since that occasion.

As kids we adopted any means of earning anything such as selling the football edition paper on Saturday evening, running errands, and taking breakfasts and dinners to overlookers in the factories.

Stephen eventually went half time with the family butcher earning about five shillings a week and in addition, I used to get about half a crown for going out Monday evening for orders and delivering some Tuesday morning before going to school. In addition, I went out Friday evening again for orders. Saturday was a very full day, 8 a.m. to about 10 p.m.. We spent all day delivering orders and then finished up taking meat and provisions to the butchers country cottage to cover their weekend.

George eventually went farming, but not to Nappa. He went instead to Uncle Jim at Orrell Fold. In the meantime the two young Crook lads had grown to manhood under Uncle Jim. Bernard, the elder, emigrated to Canada and John married and continued at home, having two children Bernard and Amelia.

Stephen left school at 13 and continued fulltime with the butcher. Each butcher did his own buying and killing in those days. Long before I left school I had considerable experience of slaughtering, which I regret to say had little effect on me at that age, but I shudder to think of it now. There were no humane killing implements in those days, and the methods were pretty crude. Stephen left butchering for farming, again at Nappa with Uncle Stephen.

I suppose it would be some time after grandmother died, that grandfather left Westhouse and returned to live with Uncle Stephen at Nappa. Uncle Ted took over the farm at Westhouse. Uncle Frank had emigrated to the USA. Uncle Isaac started farming in the Bradford area. Auntie Lizzie married a chap called Jackson and finished up at a little place called Hutton Roof in Westmorland. There was another aunt who died a spinster, we knew her as Aunt Polly, but I see from the records she was May Jane.

When I was about ten, we left 65 Corporation Street for a slightly larger house in Edna Street. We had three bedrooms, but still no bathroom. About this time mother’s mother died and her father eventually came to live with us in Edna Street. Perhaps that was the reason for our move. The move to Edna Street meant that father was a bit too far from the Fire Station for his job. Presumably for this reason we made another move to Jackson Street, quite near to the Fire Station. It was a similar type of house, two living rooms and three bedrooms.

I left school in September 1912 and had two jobs, both in the printing trade, where I picked up my knowledge of book-binding, etc.. The wage on both jobs was 5/- per week. The second job was with a very progressive firm and one of my duties was sweeping up. I had to work half an hour extra on Saturday mornings. I used to get a wonderful transparent pay packet full of details and cash columns and it contained 5/1/2d. The latter being my overtime pay. I left the printing trade and started as a junior clerk on the railway in February 1914. The starting salary was £20.00 a year and 5d. was deducted weekly for my super-annuations. 1914 was a very eventful year. It started with a big fate on 1st January and father was involved for about 10 hours or more. He was taken ill almost immediately after and he never worked again. It was several months before we found out what the trouble was, a tumour on the brain. He slowly deteriorated, being so strong physically. Stephen came home for some time to help us nurse him, and he died in the November.

In the meantime the First Great War started on August 3rd. Father left nothing. Mother would get the Widow’s Pension. I think it was 10/- at the time. Mother’s father was still with us, and still working, but just how we managed I don’t really know.

Jim had got married and lived at Turton. He had left farming, and had a contract with a small cotton mill doing all their transport work with his own horses and wagons. As the war progressed Jim had to sell up and go in the army and spent practically all his service in and around Egypt. He was put to his old skill as a blacksmith.

Stephen could have avoided army service as a farmhand, but he chose to volunteer and was with the Artillery – horse again!

Grandfather died whilst with Uncle Stephen at Nappa. In his Will he cut out father and Uncle Frank, but included brother Frank as a son. I understand his Will had been made out for some years and I understand he had second thoughts before he died, but too late to do anything about it.

The war came to an end in May 1918. I was due to enrol on Armistice Day, so I didn’t bother to report.

Jim got demobbed and returned to his work at Turton. Stephen was tempted to sign on for three years by being offered three months immediate home leave. He did his extra three years in India.

When I joined the railway, I had unlimited quarter fare facilities for travel and when I started shift working, I got a long weekend off every three weeks from 2 p.m. Saturday to 10 p.m. Monday night. So I used to move around the family in turn.

I shall have to return to Uncle Jim again. The oldest son Bernard emigrated to Canada and appeared to be prospering. The other brother John became dissatisfied at home and wanted to follow his brother to Canada, but he was now married with two children. However, he pestered and eventually his mother and Uncle Jim agreed to him going. He left his wife and children and the farm in the care of Uncle Jim and off he went.

It was always taken for granted that when the Crook lads were grown up and established, Uncle Jim would marry the senior Mrs. Crook. However, things didn’t work out that way. Mrs. Crook went out to nurse some member of the family. She suffered from varicose veins and she had the misfortune to accidentally burst one and died before they could get her to hospital.

The two sons returned from Canada and Bernard insisted on everything being sold and he returned to Canada.

After everything was settled, they left Orrell Fold and moved to Horrocksford Old Hall, Clitheroe. Of course, Uncle Jim and George went with them.

Uncle Jim was very like brother Jim. He was the only sincerely religious man in the family, yet he never found time to go to Church. He was a teetotaller, non-smoker, bachelor and never swore. He only had one vice, he loved a game of nap. The only time he ever stayed up after 9 p.m. was to play cards. He finished his life with the Crooks.

George had settled in with the Crook family in much the same way as Uncle Jim had. I don’t remember any social life at Orrell Fold. It was all bed and work. The only relaxation was cards and it is quite probable that if they had remained at Orrell Fold, George would have finished up as a bachelor.

T he move to Horrocksford Hall brought them into contact with more people. I think George must have gone to a whist drive and met Emmie, whom he eventually married.

Whilst John was working at Nappa, he fell in love with a girl named Robinson. The Robinson family farmed about a mile from Stansfield at Nappa. Actually Uncle Stephen and Aunt Sarah both met whilst working together at Robinsons, and took Stansfield over when they married.

Unfortunately for John, his girlfriend had a previous boyfriend who emigrated to Canada. He suddenly returned and pinched his girl back. John was pretty hard hit, and he left and went working somewhere in Dentdale.

Uncle Stephen had quite a family. Isaac, Billy, Jim, Lucy, John and Frank. It was the most open house I ever knew, and everything they ever made was eaten.

Eventually however some relation of Aunt Sarah died leaving her some money and they moved to Brock Cottage, Garstang. At Nappa they reared stock and made butter, at Brock they reared stock and made cheese.

In the meantime, John came back into circulation. He met Ruth in Settle. They were married and took Stansfield over when Uncle Stephen left it. Unfortunately I think Ruth must have been about twenty years older than John. She made him a good wife. She was extremely hard working, and I had to sweat very hard when I worked with her in the hayfield. After John and Ruth were settled in at Stansfield, the neighbouring farm came vacant, and brother Frank decided to settle down and he started farming at Hayber Farm. He was unmarried at the time and as he was slightly over 6 ft., slim, well made, and good looking, he was very popular socially. I don’t know why he was so different from his brothers, but he certainly was, taking an active part in social activities in and around Hellifield.

However, after flying his kite fairly successfully for a while he called on John one evening and asked him to stand for him, as he was getting married the following morning. It was certainly a very hurried affair, but as things turned out, the urgency wasn’t justified. However he got a good wife, smashing cook, who settled down fine as a farmer’s wife. They had three children Robert, Annie and Frank. They were doing very well, when tragedy struck. Frank calved a cow with an unbandaged arm, which turned septic, caught pneumonia and died at 38.

The farm contents were all sold and Lily and children moved into a cottage at Hellifield.

At that time John had a motor cycle and sidecar. Lily was living three miles away, so John got into the habit of ferrying Lily to and fro between Hellifield and Nappa.

I can’t say how long it was between Frank’s death and John’s wife Ruth’s death, but John married Lily in due course.

The girl George married lived at Millstones Inn and farm at West Bradford. They were another large family five lads and four girls. I think Emmie must have made all the running, as George would be too bashful. Anyway, when they married they started farming at Moor Laithe Farm, Gisburn. We now have George and John only four miles apart but they never mixed.

After the passage of some years, the estate around West Bradford, including Millstones came onto the market and the sitting tenants of the different properties were given the first opportunity to buy. Emmie’s father at Millstones was too old to take advantage of the situation, and none of the sons made any move, so George did. He stepped in and bought Millstones at presumably sitting tenant figure. The amusing part of the situation was the fact that George was like Uncle Jim, he was teetotal and non-smoker. He hadn’t the slightest interest in the public house side of the business.

As it happened Millstones was a free house, and not tied to any particular brewery, and could sell anybody’s beer. The result was that the brewery reps. pestered George and were shocked when he said he wasn’t interested in selling beer, only in farming. They then wanted to buy the pub but he refused to sell. He finished up with all the land, and a beautiful new Yorkshire stone house, twice as big as Millstones, a very good stroke of business. The new house was named Barnstead and when George left Moor Laithe for Barnstead, John and Lily left Stansfield and followed George at Moor Laithe.

When a farmer leaves a farm a valuation has to be taken and paid by the new tenant, to the departing one. It is a rather elaborate procedure and invariably finishes up with the incoming tenant being fully convinced he has been taken for a ride. Of course this case was no exception!

After John and Lily took over Moor Laithe they had two further children, Lily and Dorothy, who both trained as teachers.

George had three children, Winifred, Frances and George, none of whom went beyond the elementary school stage, and this fact was a further bone of contention between the two families. It is rather strange how Wrathalls followed each other, but when Frank died, and Hayber became vacant, Uncle Isaac transferred from the Bradford area and took Hayber. He had two grown up sons, John and Isaac both bachelors, who settled in at Hayber in typical Wrathall fashion – all bed and work!

The story is getting more and more involved and I have to keep jumping to and fro in time.

Stephen during his army training met his future wife Lilian in Ipswich. Lilian was a waitress in an Ipswich café and I never knew Stephen when he wasn’t hungry. I think Lilian slipped him a few things and the friendship developed. When Stephen finished his three years in India and left the army, he had no money, only his gratuity, about £60.00 or so.

In the meantime, Jim’s contract with the cotton factory ended and he had a lean spell but eventually got fixed up as a stockman for one of the wartime cotton millionaires, who had plenty of money but no farming experience.

They were breeding and showing mainly bulls and cows, and used to show at all the big County Shows and the National. Stephen returned and linked up with Jim whose millionaire boss recommended Stephen for a similar post to Jim’s with another millionaire at Silverdale. Stephen got married and took Lilian from Ipswich to Silverdale to the new job. As Lilian was an only child, her parents were disappointed at her living so far from them.

As it turned out, it wasn’t very long. The cotton millionaires who had accumulated their wealth fairly quickly during the war, found things rather difficult when the bottom fell out of the cotton market. They soon had to give up their expensive farming and showing sideline.

Jim went back to farming on a hill farm at Calderhead.

Lilian’s parents stepped into the breach and persuaded an uncle of Lilian’s to buy a small farm ‘Ashgrove’ at Saxmundham for Stephen to rent. You won’t remember it but we all spent some grand holidays there.

Mr. Manning, Lilian’s father was a skilful book-binder who had worked all his life on specialised work such as bank ledgers, etc.. They had worked hard all their lives and when Stephen and Lilian started at Ashgrove, Mr. and Mrs. Manning sold their house in Ipswich and built a bungalow adjacent to the farmhouse at Ashgrove.

Stephen couldn’t have started farming at a worse time. Farming in the thirties was at its lowest ebb. Farming can be very difficult and needs capital at the best of times. Stephen experienced the worst of times and certainly had no capital. I know he managed to get some money out of Uncle Jim, which incidentally he never repaid.

Uncle Jim was always the father figure and financed in a small way almost all his nephews when they started up for themselves. Fortunately most of them repaid him. Stephen’s position worsened each year. Ashgrove Farm, farmhouse, buildings (such as they were), 26 acres was bought for £700.00. Stephen’s rent was £35.00 a year and although there was little about dairy farming that he didn’t know, he still could not make the place pay. He got behind with his rent and Uncle Bob got more and more annoyed, and Stephen and him got to slanging matches.

It must have been a wretched time for Mr. and Mrs. Manning. Uncle Bob was married to Mr. Manning’s sister and Mr. Manning was a very quiet mild sort of man who never even raised his voice. It was all so wonderful at the start. They had a lovely little bungalow built. He was a good gardener and had a grand garden, growing all the vegetables and fruit they needed, they had their own eggs and milk. Mother was always trotting across the lawn and assisting Lilian in the farm kitchen. Mrs. Manning was also an excellent wine maker, and it was drinking her wine that gave me my liking for it. I think there is little doubt that almost all Mannings money went steadily in helping Stephen in business.

We went down for our holiday in 1937, probably September and the situation was desperate. Stephen was three years in arrears in rent and Uncle Bob was threatening action. Anyway Stephen was busy trying to find another farm where prospects were more favourable and he was lucky at last. A farm came vacant at Ipswich belonging to the Rank family. Stephen and Lilian went for interview and they got it.

Stephen had one good friend, his bank manager, who happened to be a north countryman. He gave Stephen some sort of credit and I lent him all the money I could raise £100.00. He left Ashgrove for Crane Hill in 1938. Mr. and Mrs. Manning lost their bungalow. I don’t think they got a penny for it. Uncle Bob presumably got the benefit of it. I think he disposed of Ashgrove fairly quickly, and presumably got little more than he paid for it. I understand it has changed hands since and the last price we heard was £14,000.

The Mannings had to move in with Stephen, but Mr. Manning went into hospital shortly after the move for prostrate gland operation and he never came out. Stephen said he couldn’t understand why he had to die, as he survived the operation successfully. I think the poor old man didn’t relish life at Crane Hill.

Mrs. Manning was a good old lady and was active for many years after. The move to Crane Hill was quite successful, made all the more so the following year when the second World War started, and they couldn’t go wrong. Crane Hill was more or less in Ipswich itself. The land reached Ipswich Station. With the post war housing development it was only a matter of time before they wanted Crane Hill Farm for building purposes.

As I have already said, I started at Godley Station in February 1914. The war started in August and father died in November. 1914 was an eventful year in many ways.

Up to the outbreak of war, there was a constant stream of emigrants flowing across England from most East European countries, through Hull and by train across to Liverpool and the U.S.A..

All through the summer of 1914 special trains carrying thousands called at Godley for water and conveniences. There was no corridor stock. They were herded like sardines into ordinary six wheeled carriages, no water and no lavatories. We used to have buckets of water lining the platform, for them to fill their cans, etc.. They didn’t possess any luggage as such, just bundles of clothes and bedding, and what they stood up in.

At Godley at that time was what was known as the Signal Works, where the old type Semaphone Signals for the old Great Central Railway were made along with other things.

Attached to the works was also an office known as the Chief Ironworks Inspector. The chief was a Scotsman named Gladstone, a very big man about 6’ 3”. He had under him several Inspectors for various sections such as Bridges, Rails, Fire Appliances, etc.. There were two clerical staff for the department, Chief Clerk and Clerk. In those days they had a nasty habit of making positions what was termed supernumary, which meant in effect that you had no permancy and were not put into the superannuation scheme. The Clerk, a chap named Percy Carson was on this status, and in 1915 he had to join the forces. His place was filled by your mother and that was how we first met.

I had always done fairly well at the elementary school, of course education in those days was always much simpler than nowadays. I can never recollect being outside the first six in exams results, and as I was never a good pen man, I must have excelled in other subjects. I know I was always top in arithmetic. We must have been gluttons for punishment in those days. I enrolled for what was termed evening classes, taking Commercial Arithmetic, Book-keeping, Shorthand, Theory and Practice of Commerce, two or three nights a week, 7 p.m. to 9 p.m.. I must have done two or three winters and certainly reached advanced Book-keeping, which would have led to Accountancy if I had continued. I reached the point where I had to choose between general commercial subjects and Railway subjects, and I chose the latter.

I had several winters taking Railway Law, Economics, Geography and Operating at Whitworth Street, Manchester.

I think I have already said my starting salary was £20.00. When I started, the other clerks were earning various figures up to about £70.00 and the Chief Clerk capped everybody on £90.00.

The Clerical Union was very weak in those days, it wasn’t very strong either financially or numerically, and only the brave dared got to the Union meetings.

However, things came to the boiling point in 1919 and we got a new salary agreement. We had during the war period received increments as War Bonus. The new agreement put those on a permanent basis. Under the new agreement we were graded in classes from 5 to 1. Naturally all ordinary clerks were in the bottom grade 5, whose upper limit was £200, which you reached at 31 years of age. Our Chief Clerk was graded class 4 at maximum £230 and the Station Master class 2, in the region of £300.

With the end of the war, Percy Carson returned with a stick, and a badly injured leg to find your mother in his job. He was offered a position at Sheffield which involved him in three hours travelling by train daily from Mottram to Sheffield. Poor Percy was still graded as a wages clerk and he had to fight several more years to gain permanency and superannuation status.

About this time the railway grouping commenced, and the Great Central line became part of the L.N.E. Group and considerable changes took place. Although Godley was C.L.C., the bulk of the work was G.C., and everything was duplicated. Our advantage was that we received copies of everything connected with the L.N.E. and we were in direct contact with their District Office in Manchester.

About this time the L.N.E. started a new education programme with lectures at Manchester University, again in Railway Economics, Law, Geography and Operating. One subject each winter for four winters. I applied for and obtained permission to take this course. Economics was the first course and I won a 2 guineas prize. The second year was Law, and I won 1 guinea. This was sent to the C.L.C. Manager to present to me. I duly attended Head Office and was presented with my cheque and certificate and a pep talk on getting on, etc..

Unfortunately the Manager suddenly died the following week, so my ambitions for promotion were somewhat shattered. In addition to the University lectures, which were given by University men, we had courses in Railway Accountancy, Rules and Regulations. I had to travel to Sheffield for my Accountancy Course. It made a long day getting up at 5 a.m. to start work at 6 a.m. to 2 p.m., having dinner and leaving Hyde at 4 something to Guide Bridge to catch the 5 o’clock express to Sheffield, getting home again at 11.30 p.m.. Percy Carson and myself did the full course over 4 years and won for ourselves what was know as the Higher Education Certificate. Poor Percy, after working so hard and after a bitter struggle managing to be made permanent, and put in the super-annuation, never lived to enjoy it. He died suddenly and unexpectedly from something obscure which he was presumed to have picked up during his army service.

Promotion on the C.L.C. was a very chancy affair and unless you had a friend at Head Office you didn’t stand a chance of getting a move and vacancies were not advertised.

The L.N.E.R. however did advertise their vacancies, a list came out every week and covered the whole area of the system. We received these lists at Godley and I applied for vacancies all over the country for months, without any success.

In 1928 the C.L.C. opened a Train Central Office at Liverpool. It took about two years to install the telephones at the various points and complete the office, and six men were given almost two years to train for the job. Everything on the C.L.C. was run on a shoestring and they hadn’t realised that six units for an office that was to be open continuously didn’t allow for any emergency arising. In 1930 one of the six died suddenly from pneumonia and they had nobody trained for the vacancy. We had only recently got a new Manager and he came to us from the L.N.E.R. with instructions to reduce our operating costs and he was very annoyed about having to pay eight hours a day overtime every day because no trained relief was available. They had a conference and when the Assistant Manager and the Chief Clerk couldn’t think of anybody suitable, the new Manager said the most likely candidate would be a clerk who was conversant with train, and marshalling yard work. He suggested the Chief Clerk should look at the Clerical Dossiers, and see what he could find. When he did, he found mine was full of applications for similar positions on the L.N.E.R..

So to my surprise I was invited to Liverpool and asked if I thought I could do the job. I said yes! However there was another snag. The position was class 3 and I hadn’t yet reached the maximum of class 5. To jump anybody two classes was unthinkable and would raise considerable objections from men already in class 4. After much agitation I was offered the intermediate stage of class 4 with a cagey promise to raise me to class 3 in a year’s time. I started in May and as I was due for yearly increment in September, my actual figure for making the move was £20.00 or 7/8 per week for the first year. From May to September, I had to travel daily from Hyde two weeks out of three. On the third week – night turn – I had to lodge without receiving any expenses. Our rent at Hyde was 9/- per week and moving to Liverpool meant getting a house there. It was impossible to get a council house as there was a long waiting list. I hadn’t considered buying a house as we had no money. Fortunately, I was working with a chap who persuaded me to buy a house. We were invited to some friends of your mother’s, who lived in Leopold Road, Hamer (?). The visit was on a beautiful June day, with a high tide, perfect conditions as it happened. Number 30 was up for sale. Two school teacher sisters owned it and they were emigrating to South Africa. I went to see them and was staggered when they asked for £625. The house had only been built about two years for £600. I offered £550 but it was not considered. Some time went on and I looked at lots of houses but couldn’t get anything under £600, and was getting really worried. Fortunately there were a lot up for sale at the time.

The Leopold house was in the hands of Robinsons in South Road, and one morning before going to bed I rang and asked if the house had been sold. It hadn’t and as time was getting short before they were to leave for South Africa, I repeated my offer of £550 and it was accepted. I had to borrow £75 from father Winstanley [Note: his father-in-law] which I managed to repay very quickly.

I had a mortgage with the Halifax and repaid it at £3-17-0 per month in just under 13 years. It was a very good move and when we left in 1948 it fetched £1,800 and I did nothing about selling it. The word got around we were moving and a young chap knocked at the door, enquired and that was the end of the matter. We moved to Northwich in 1948 and you are familiar with the history since that time.

There is little more to be said. Uncle Stephen made the last move from Brock Cottage, Garstang to Horrocksford Farm, Clitheroe, the three sons all married. Isaac spent most of his time farming at Paythorne and died this summer. He had one son and one daughter. The son passed out of farming and is now a publican.

Billy married and spent all his time farming at one farm near Longridge. He had two daughters and I think they are both teachers. One is around Sale somewhere. Billy is now retired and living in a beautiful bungalow with a few acres of ground in the Longridge area.

Jim married, started farming at Garstang, had four sons by his first wife and a fifth by his second wife. He would appear to be the most successful of his generation, being a specialist breeder of Friesian stock and in great demand for judging purposes, etc.. Between him and the boys, they now have four farms adjoining each other. Lucy, the only daughter married a man named Singleton, who runs a colossal poultry establishment, with thousands of birds in the Longridge area.

The two younger sons Frank and John finished up with their father at Horrocksford. You should recall them from our stay in the old coach bungalows during the early part of the war. John married and is farming at West Bradford a few yards from Barnstead. I think he has two children. Uncle Stephen lived to 80+ and was succeeded at Horrocksford by Frank. Frank did marry a widow with one son. He farmed Horrocksford in indifferent health for a few years but died in his fifties. I forgot to say Lucy had four children, one boy and three girls. I think the girls were all given higher education and are now scattered. I know one is in Gambia. Lucy died very suddenly about four years ago. [see Roy Wrathall's note]

Uncle Ted at Westhouse had several children, including one son. When Uncle Ted died the son apparently wouldn’t or couldn’t take the farm on. Wrathalls had farmed the place for so long, that some effort was made to get another Wrathall to go there, but everybody was too well established to want to move.

I think I said earlier that Uncle Isaac took over Hayber at Nappa when Frank died. He had two sons Isaac and John, both grown men. When they came to Hayber they were a very close knit family and we all wondered what would happen when they lost their mother. The township of Nappa consisted of four dwellings, only three farms and one cottage. The tenant of the cottage was employed on the estate. The third farm was farmed by a family called Bargh. The farm was situated midway between the two Wrathall farms, Stansfield and Hayber, and there was much co-operation between the three. Barghs had four children, two daughters and two sons, in that order. The eldest daughter did exceptionally well. She went to be a nurse in London, and finished up as Matron of one of the big hospitals in London. Barts I think it was. The second daughter, Janey had to stay at home and was worked like a horse, inside and out. She was a big raw boned girl with spectacles, about three years older than me. She did her best to find a husband without success! Anyway, the arrival of two bachelors at Hayber gave her new hope! She cultivated the new arrivals assiduously and was very helpful during Auntie’s illness and death. So much so, that she married the eldest, John, eventually.

John, Janey and Isaac are still inseparable. They left Hayber some years ago to semi-retire to a small farm part way up the fell at Grindleton with a wonderful view.

Uncle George had three children, Winifred, Francis and George. Winifred is married to a farmer and lives at West Bradford. They have two children, one of each. George, married, with several children, followed his father at Barnstead. Unfortunately, his wife wasn’t interested in farming, so they left Barnstead to live in Clitheroe. George has had a variet of jobs, but they always seem prosperous, with car, caravan, etc..

His father was very disappointed however, Frances married a carpenter and they took Barnstead when young George gave it up, and they are still there.

I’m afraid there will be real ructions when dividing the estate up when the time comes. Frances has either two or three children.

Uncle George now lives in Clitheroe. He was always in trouble with the Income Tax Inspector. He must have fleeced them out of hundreds or thousands over the years. When he retired, he owed them about £2,000. I think they have eventually settled it up, but it went on for about eight years!

When John followed George at Moor Laithe, Gisburn, they would have Bob, Annie and Frank with them (Frank’s children). They then had two further children, Lily and Dorothy. So far as Bob and Annie were concerned, I don’t think they had any trouble, but Frank, as a boy was a real problem. For some years he had nervous trouble, bed-wetting, etc.. I think he was sent away at one period for some sort of treatment. I fancy the relationship with the new father, at a critical period would have something to do with it.

After settling in at Moor Laithe, John appears over the years to have mixed socially and many other ways in affairs in Gisburn, such as Secretary of the N.F.U., Yorkshire Penny Bank, Vicar’s Warden, Parish Councillor, grader at the Auction Mart, etc.. Eventually he allowed Bob to take over Moor Laithe and took up residence in Gisburn village. The same situation arose as with Uncle George. Bob’s wife objected to seven day farm working, so they in turn left Moor Laithe to live and work in Barnoldswick. Bob works at Rolls Royce and his wife and two daughters are also working.

Frank started quite young in the cattle trading business, and strange to say is almost a repetition of his father from a social point of view. He has a finger in every pie in and around Gisburn. The football team play on Wrathall Park (owned by Frank). He supplies Gisburn with milk, etc.. He works about fourteen hours a day, seven days a week and enjoys every minute of it. Like his father, he was the merry bachelor and like his father, he was eventually caught, but unlike his father there was an issue (another Frank).

After milking one morning, he donned a complete new rig out, and informed his mother after breakfast that he was getting married that morning and would bring his wife home before evening milking time. Frank took over Moor Laithe when Bob left it, and instead of renting it as Bob had done, he bought it from his parents, and appears to be making money faster than any other member of the family. His motto is that there is more fun making money than in spending it.

Annie married a farmer and lives in the Gisburn area.

John’s two daughters Lily and Dorothy both trained and taught as teachers. Lily married a farmer and they have one son and one daughter, and live about a mile out of Gisburn. Dorothy is the one we visited at Embsay. They have two boys.

When Uncle Stephen lost his land at Crane Hill, he was of course compensated. He had to find another farm, and was again very lucky. Damerous Farm came on the market at £10,500. He knew I had sold Leopold Road and rang up and asked me to lend him £1000, which I did. I didn’t lose anything, as he paid me the same interest rate I was receiving from the Building Society. However, when I woke up to the fact that my money would be much better in shares, it took me two years nattering to get my money back.

I can’t think of anything more to say. If there are any gaps that need filling, we can do it verbally as they arise.
Trudi Wrathall (neé Craig) appended this note to Edward's history:
This was written by Edward Wrathall in the mid 1960s. I assume this because he mentions my husband Frank, and he was born in 1962. The notes in [ ] were added by Glen Rae (being the husband of Dorothy Wrathall) who transcribed it from Uncle Ned’s handwritten notes. He was known as Uncle Ned by John Isaac Wrathall’s family and it seems that everyone else called him Teddy. I have found it very interesting and I hope you do reading it.
In Dec. 2005, Roy Wrathall (http://www.wrathall.org/), whose ancestors lived at Horrocksford, mentioned the following:
I can date the account based upon my Aunt Lucy's death, which was in Sept. 1968 .... as the account refers to her having been dead for around 4 years, I'd suggest a date of around 1972.
In Jan. 2009, Dan Leissner [d(dot)leissner(at)btinternet(dot)com] sent a photo of a flare pistol with the following information:
I have recently acquired a World War I signal pistol, which, remarkably, appears to have been struck by either a bullet or a shell fragment. The only information that I have about it is that it was brought back from the war by one Percy Carson. I've turned up the service records (which are somewhat hard to interpret) of a Percy Carson, which give his address as what appears to be "18 Broadway...Oldham...". I was wondering if this might be the same Percy Carson who crops up [above].