Treasured Memories of Doris Taylor (nee Marr)

Written from 1984 to 1989

I’ve always wished that I could write, and reading Catherine Cookson’s books has given me something to think about.

I think she’s a wonderful person, right down to earth, not afraid of what people would think of her – just truth. She has been rewarded with a good

home life and a good husband what she deserves.

There are so many people who wish to hide from the truth, but no matter, it’s still part of your life and what a laugh we got out of it.

I was taken as a baby to Joint Stocks, Coxhoe, as my father was a quarryman. We could not have got any nearer to his work if we had built a house of our own – which we couldn’t.

It took us all our water to pay 6/2 pence a week rent, which was taken from my dad’s pay. What wages – poor souls – no wonder my dad hid two shillings in the netty for a pint and a few tabs.

I’m thinking of what the people are talking about – HARD TIMES. I’ve lived and seen hard times, but thank God for good parents.

The garden was our pantry – leeks boiled one night with baked potatoes. Potatoes boiled in the set pot with their skins on and had boiled beet with butter over them. We made butter by putting milk and salt into a big glass jar and shaking it until your arms ached, but when you saw a large piece of butter floating – that was your reward. We got 6 penny-worth of bacon cuttings from the store!! One minute there was nothing in the pantry – by night time, there was a feed fit for a king. Egg and bacon pies, custards, home baked bread, stotty cake, teacakes, brown bread – all baked in the coal oven. Big pan of panacalty cooked over the fire every Friday night was a real treat. In it went a great big family-sized tin of tomatoes and a half pound of corned beef 4½d. You had a running on week with the bill at the store and when you paid it, you got a bag of bullets.

As we had no running water, Peggy (my sister) and myself carried over water before we went to school. This was obtained from a windmill field. Two pails were carried with a girth over our shoulders. This lasted mam all day but we had to do it again as soon as we returned at tea-time.

We were always pleased when it had been windy as some branches would have fallen off the trees. Across the road was the Quarry Banks and quite often an old tree would be lying on the road – out would come the saw and we would all be as busy as bees then laugh at the coal-house full of wood all ready for the winter.

Coal was hard to come by, even though it was only 3/6d a bag. We were given lots of Coal Duff and we wet it well, made it into balls and stacked it on the fire. It burnt for hours. Dad used to build a trench for his leeks. Peg and me took sacks up the banks, gathered all the leaves and these went into the leek trench together with the old mats.

Mam was a busy woman – she would put a mat in the back yard – give you the mepp tin and dusters then everything would come out – knives and forks, spoons, cans, pans and steamers, fire irons – anything that would polish.

I would do a good turn for anyone – every Friday I would take my pail, scrubbing brush, soap and cloth, and work for the lady next door. First the living room floor, just stone, then a great long passage –being a public house at one time, one half was stone, the other wood. Next, a trip across the yard to two earth lavatories.

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After I got finished, the lady would say “your pay’s on’t table!” She came from Yorkshire, can’t you tell it was two pence – never got my weekly two pence from my mam.

I could work all day for my mam and I’d hear her say to dad “give her sixpence Jack, she’s been a good lass”, he would say “you give her it, I’ve got no change”.

I loved every bit of my dad. I can still see him coming out of that Quarry with string tied around his knees.

Easter came and we were given a paste egg, all pretty colours – no chocolate ones. I think I must have been about 10 years old when I got my first chocolate egg.

My sister found a£1 note outside a sale-room, took it to the Police Station and was told that if it was not claimed within a few months – it’s yours. After a year, we had given up, but to our surprise, it came back. So that’s how I came to get my chocolate egg – 6 pence from Woolworths – good old Peg.

Don’t think it was awful spending the £1. We were all one happy family, if we got anything we shared and the smile that came to people’s faces was your reward. It was as good to give as it was to receive.

I went to one home where there were seven children and I wouldn’t stay away, I loved them. At meal times, I loved to stay, wishing their mam would give me a bit Yorkshire pudding to me, it was so much better than my mam’s – then I would go home.

We all joined our own Salvation Army and thought it was great. We had meetings in the old stable and ruined Mrs Gibson’s pudding tins making tambourines. Had lovely (make on) weddings, dressing up with old net curtains, wild lilies for our veils. The lilies were filled with little black flies. Then came the wedding feast – go around to Mr Cowlings Farm for a turnip, cut it into slices, decorate it with a penny-worth of sweets and a bottle of lemonade (made with lemonade powder and water).

Then came Saturday when we would go to a matinee at the Gem Cinema. Two pence got us into the pictures and a packet of monkey nuts. We were nearly killed in the rush trying to get into the matinee. Just got to the exciting bit in the film where they were falling over the cliff, then –CONTINUE NEXT WEEK – would come up. Roll on next week. Mr Bailey was the manager of the Gem and Mrs took your penny. If you felt a bit posh, you went upstairs – so bang went your monkey nuts.

Christmas came and we got one present and your stocking filled with bits and pieces. Threepenny piece, orange, apple, nuts and a few sweets and a comic.

Life didn’t alter so very much. We had a long way to walk to school and it was hard going. We seemed to have a lot of snow, more then than now and we couldn’t get a bus as they didn’t run very often.

Any wallpaper that was left over was folded and cut round fancy for the pantry shelves. We got a new clippy mat each Christmas, a washable tablecloth, cushion covers.

Long net curtains were at the windows and a paper blind which you rolled up from the bottom and stuck a clothes peg in to keep it up. This was hidden by a frill of lace – hand made.

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Doris on the left with mother and sister, Peggy

Our Peg and I did things that gave us lots of fun. Going into the Quarry was one of them, each taking a pail, trying to get coal. We used to go into the Quarrymen’s cabin because they always had a good supply and plenty of sticks – we thought we were on to a good thing.

We put ashes on the top so my dad wouldn’t know what we were up to, but seeing mam’s face was our reward – it was grand doing things for her.

We let a room just to help out and the lady I most admired had four bairns. She was a grand lass. She would say “I have got a bit lard and flour – go downstairs ask what your mam has and bring the oven shelf”. This was put over her coal fire and made lovely ned cakes, eaten hot with a bit of jam or treacle on.

I had one doll to play, but one day I lost its hat so looking through mam’s cupboard for something to use as a hat, I came across a cardboard box. When I lifted the lid, what a surprise. I saw a new doll dressed as a nurse. I found out who Santa was the hard way – I was so excited I flew into the kitchen and told my mam about the doll. Mam was busy doing the fireplace with the black lead brush in her hand, that I shall never forget – I was black lead from top to toe – I got a good damned wallop.

Never mind – I got my doll for Christmas.

Sometimes we got a lift off an old lady going into small villages to sell her wares with a horse and trap. Those days, horses worked very hard, even our butcher, Mr Picken, brought our meat on a horse and cart.

We had to go to Quarrington Hill to carry our groceries as Sherburn Hill store couldn’t come to Joint Stocks as the bank was too steep for the horse and cart.

We had the railway crossings outside our house at Joint Stocks, leading stone from one part of the Quarry to the other.

Quite a few accidents happened at the crossings, what with the motor bikes and people from the Quarry. My mother was nurse to them all – anything she could lay her hands on that was white went for bandages.

Often, some of the poor things had to be taken to Durham hospital using the horse and ambulance which was kept in the stable in our back yard.

Going back through the years, Joint Stocks was a public house and I can still remember a large piece of the Quarry Banks taken away, so the men had plenty of room to play handball on our gable end!

After the men gave up playing handball – Jack Flintoft built a lovely hut there. He did some wonderful work. My dad and him took up Fretwork, and one piece Jack made was the Lord’s Prayer – he covered the back with red velvet – it was beautiful.

When I was three, dad went to the 1914 War and we missed him very much. Mother made the best of everything, kept herself very busy, knitting socks for the

soldiers and helped to form a group with Mrs Brighouse, John Wood’s sisters from Coxhoe Hall and a great many more. A soup kitchen was opened – free dinners enjoyed by all.

We went to Horden every Friday and stayed over two nights, coming back by train on the Sunday. One Sunday night we came off the train and when we got to the Pottery we were told our house had been bombed. The police were

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Doris's dad on the left

waiting for us, saying things were not too bad but we must not put a light on. Having nightdresses in our bags, we were able to go straight to bed, three of us all together to keep warm.

Next morning to my surprise, when opening my eyes it was an awful sight –Peg and mam looked like black and white minstrels. During the air raid, bombs from the Zeppelin had sent the chimney down and we were all covered in soot and stones, so we had a lucky escape. We had two bomb holes near the house and these were filled in over a time, with our rubbish.

When the War ended, we all had to go for a bag of cakes and a celebration mug. We were lucky for living at Joint Stocks – we were put on both the Coxhoe and Quarrington Hill lists, so we got two lots.

I suffered as a child healthwise – I think I was left everything but money.

I had everything for my chest – thermogenic wool, a habit shirt which was always worn slipped over your head, tied at each end. Took cod liver oil and malt every day, big bottles of emulsion. Your body never saw daylight or night, if you showed your knees – it was “put your clothes down”. If we went to the sea it was “all your clothes on and just put your knickers over the top and plodge” – no bathing costume. The first one I got was when I was 17 and that was in 1928 and this no-one saw as I wore my coat over the top of it!

Don’t you think a lot of fun came from your parents – not everything as they knew funny times too.

My dad kept hens and we did help in lots of ways and by doing so, learned a lot.

Like when a hen started clucking we were told to get 4 house bricks, put them in a square, dig a piece of grass sod and put it between the bricks. Cover this with straw and you had a lovely nest.

Then we were sent to the farm for the fertilised eggs, told he wanted good ones, then he fixed them into the nest. If they weren’t right, it was wonderful to watch the hen use its beak to put them just as she wanted them. We put water and food for her and left her, but sometimes she was so keen sitting, we often had to lift her from the nest to get something to eat – she didn’t like that one bit.

After about 3 weeks, we took a basin (this was one of my happiest moments) dipping the eggs into the cold water. You could feel the movements of the chick, then a little yellow beak would appear, then the chick itself. We had a basket ready with a piece of blanket in and as each chick came out, we put them in the basket. We then took them into the house, sprinkled their beaks with oatmeal to learn them to eat.

We also had a black cat who just sat by the chicks. We told her she must not touch them and she didn’t – you see, even cats learn.

The next things we looked after were from Mr. Newton, the engine driver. He said, “Doris, would you like two little baby rabbits?” – their mother had died and they need a lot of care. We got two pen fillers to feed them with and brought them up so tame. We could let them into the garden, not to my dad’s delight, but to theirs. Didn’t they love the young carrot tops – anything what was eatable – they had a beanfeast.

We were given a Guinea Pig which had won lots of shows, but was getting old. No wonder it won shows, it was a beauty, with long cream hair. We bathed her every Friday night and put curling pins along both sides. When she

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Doris's mother and father - John and Elizabeth Marr

was combed out she was so beautiful it made us want some more, so dad sent to Coventry for another three. One was white with pink eyes, one all different russets and the other all cream.

So Friday night kept us all busy, one washed, another dried and the other one did the combing. It didn’t stop there, we ended up with fifteen – wasn’t it a good job we had an understanding Pa!!

We also had a dog. One dog we got was quite unexpected. I went and saw a lady with a new baby, she was lovely, and as luck would have it, the nurse called to wash her. I said could I have a baby so she told me to save all my pennies up and then I could have one. I said how much and she said seven and six.

Well at two pence a week, it was going to take me a lifetime. When I got to five shillings, I put it in my pocket and went for a walk to see my grandmother. She at the time was living down Cornforth Lane near the cricket field and next to my grandmothers was a caravan where Mr Ogden lives.

I got my eye on this black, curly haired dog with three lovely pups, so I sat loving them. Mr Ogden came out so I said “are you selling your pups?” and he said “how much money have you got?”. I said “five shillings”, so she was mine and whether it was because I had saved that money and could pay for her all by myself, I do not know, but I felt she was my very own.

When I was 17 I was working in Oldham, Lancashire – all that way for 10 shillings a week and some of this had to be sent home to my mam. Cleaning the home and looking after the children. We travelled with girls who worked in the cotton mills, dressed in their shawls, wearing clogs. They thought we were wrong in the head but what else was there to do.

Our poor Joe (my brother) worked every day in a garage for seven and six per week. He was so small he had to stand on a box to reach the petrol pump.

Little lads like him walked from the bottom of Coxhoe up to Joint Stocks to get to Kelloe Pit, carrying a little white cloth bag with their bait in – cheese or jam – your heart ached for them.

I can remember when 18 people were burned to death in Kelloe Pit. Heaps fell in and they brought the bodies down Joint Stocks Bank on carts covered in black.

One son was Mrs Gibson’s that used to live beside us. Coatham’s son from Coxhoe Square, Albert Robinson’s two sons – all buried in Coxhoe churchyard and they haven’t even a cross.

I can look back at my mam and grandma going over the hills to the workhouse – they cried for days – and we grumble.

A lot more I could put on paper on who they saw but I loved those and would not wish to hurt them, so some things are best left unsaid.

I was seeing Peggy Spinks and her sister. All we talked about was our mams and what we used to do.

She said go and visit Beamish Museum, but I think I know more, as a lot of things she mentioned she had seen, were not as old as the things we could remember.

I remember my mother getting a set of black irons made and which a very old man gave her for a wedding present. There were two lions, two sheep dogs and two little lambs.

He must have been a marvellous Blacksmith, every detail, the lovely folds that waved as hair, face, eyes and legs.

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Brother Joe

Mother must have loved them very much as you could see your face in them as they were black-leaded every week.

When my mother moved from Joint Stocks to live at 116 The Grove, she said to me “Doris, you can have one of those lions”. Never thinking I was hurting her feelings, I took one and thought I knew the very thing I could use it for – a door stop’, but when she saw what I was using it for – back home it went.

I will never forget the weekend that I was married. I was left to start the week with two shillings and sixpence.

Sally Anderson kept a small shop in the Avenue – you could buy a packet of tea – two pence, onions for a penny, loaf of bread for four pence, so I made it go as far as I could.

When I told my mam, she said “don’t worry pet, we’ll get along ok. If you put an order in with Broughs , they will come on Thursday and won’t come for the money until Friday”, so that’s how we started our first week.

With love and understanding – it got us both through.

Work was short in 1930. Three days at work and three on the dole.

Our first baby was born, but we never missed his biscuit tin, three kinds of waters had to last him a week.

We got two rabbits each week, made pie crusts and had plenty of vegetables.

We had little money but we could get fish and chips for three pence, and we bought six small cakes and kept them until Sunday. We would say “that one looks nice – we’ll half it, eh!” Just little buns you know, like what I make now, but because Mrs Curry had made them, they tasted so much better than mine.

I was lying thinking this morning about a shoe box. When the kids were little and got coppers given, they would buy a cracker (firework), one more to their collection. They brought them out with such a longing as if the fifth of November would never come.

Dick put wood in the back wall for the spinning wheels – what a lovely time we had with five shillings worth of fireworks, where have all those years gone?

When the Second World War started, Dick (my husband) joined the Home Guard – if anyone had come out from behind the bushes, I fail to think what Dick would have done.

One day, Dick was standing at the back door when he spotted five or six German bombers coming overhead. Then a great big bang.

I had just made a plate of sandwiches and a pot of tea, so all of us took our own and got under the stairs as dad said we would be safe there – at least we were not going hungry. I used to often get the bairns from their beds and make them comfortable until the all clear sounded.

I can remember when my mother lived next door to Cookson’s, dad tried his gas mask on and went into the lavatory. Poor Elsie and Mary Cookson saw him and ran into the house shouting that a funny man had gone into Mrs. Marr’s Lav.

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Husband Dick in the engine working at Steetley Quarry

We got a good laugh when the war was all over – we carried our tables on to the green – each one boiled a kettle, cooked and served all round with a nice tea. All Blackgate was alive, you would wonder where everyone came from. We danced right along Durham Road, never went to bed, we were all too excited to go to sleep.

Little things that’s done and said

One morning being up early for the bairns going to school, I had all my clothes washed ready for pegging out when the milkman called. Of course we still had the old set pot also a sneck on the back door – in came the milkman, just popped the milk on the set pot and off he went.

I tried getting the door open but it wouldn’t budge – got down on my hands and knees thinking I had spilled some coal, but no, so I had to carry my basket of clothes and pegs through the front door and around the back. When I got to look at my back door, the clothes line that was hanging over was tied from the back door sneck to the coal house, lavatory and back to the back door, making it impossible to get out.

Knowing that the milkman was the culprit, I wondered how I could get my own back. I found some jam in the bottom of the jam jar – stuck it all over the back door sneck – so didn’t the milkman get a shock – it was one big laugh – next thing he was on his knees trying to get the jam off his hands.

We had inside coal-house which caused a terrible lot of dirt so I asked my husband if he could build me a shed, so of course he did. I then worked very hard cleaning what was the coal-house – I think it took five coats of paint to make it clean – never mind, it looked beautiful. I found a nice piece of oil cloth for the floor and it made a lovely cupboard.

I found it to be great in the summer but when winter came and all the coal had to be carried from the shed, I found it wasn’t such a good idea. So one day when the coal men came, I asked them to put 3 bags in the original coal-house. I saw then come in with a bag but never heard it being emptied and I’m standing with the money in my hand waiting to pay him. So I looked out. There he was standing with the bag resting on the wall, all he could say was “hinney, where did you want this coal put?” I said “in here please” and he said “I’ve seen many a bloody clean coal-house, but I have never seen a one as clean as that”. I must have been daft – never mind, I was born like that.

These lovely memories linger on, it’s grand to have a good sense of humour. If you don’t laugh you would cry and I have found it doesn’t do.

Like the song goes – “laugh and the world laughs with you, but cry and you cry alone”.

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The Taylor Family. Doris and Bill - back left, daughter Christine in front. Son Ken with bride Jean, son Bill with wife Nora, their two sons in front, and son Ronnie with wife Ann