1926

I was six years of age when the 1926 Strike began and had already been at school for three years. I can still recall the times putting three chairs together as a bed for an afternoon nap; this was part of our education of those days. In front of the school, about four feet from the Great North Road now called the Al, was the low brick wall of the school with a granite type stone on top. Embedded in these stones were the iron railings capped on each rail by a fleur-de-lys shaped adornment. These have now been decapitated to ensure the safety of the present day children. Between one rail and the next were the indentations worn by the use of many feet climbing to have a better view of the road. It was on these walls we stood to wave and cheer on the soldiers going in convoy to the more militant areas of Tyneside and particularly Jarrow. We went home with glee to report these happenings to our parents. Their faces and undertones were not so pleasing as they pictured colleagues of the Northumbrian Coalfield being suppressed by troops ordered into the area from Westminster.
As the strike progressed we were soon without fuel and this was one of the commodities miners were never without. Coal house floors were swept clean for coal dust from many a load of coal stored in the long but narrow storehouse next to the privvy. Wood was split with wedges and sawn into blocks, yet the ability to have a fire grew less and less.

Along the banks of the River Aire which formed the Western boundary line of the village was a new flood bank being made by spoil from Allerton Bywater colliery. The spoil came along a

This spoil,tipped by the tens of tons contained what was now valued - coal. It was to the tip that we flocked - children, men and women with buckets, trowels and what I remember most vividly - carpet bags. These were light, strong and easily held open to receive the coal rejected in normal times but very valuable during the strike. On this flood bank, safe without the loco and its long line of trucks coming along, full and returning empty, as it gradually built up the bank, we met. How we "scratted" and"scraped" to find the coal, to fill our little bags and return home triumphant in the knowledge that the fire could be lit that night and vegetables from the allotment cooked to fill our hungry bellies. This coal picking continued for several weeks and at last the warning came - no more coal was to be picked, trespassers would be prosecuted, any coal removed would be considered as stolen. What a blow this was to us children and parents too. This stopped our usual daily pilgrimage to the tip, but it did not stop the desperate fathers using stealth and cunning to grab a bag now and again; usually at night, but more usually early in the morning.

These escapades brought to our notice the dreaded "Mr. Fitton" or "Fitton" as the men referred to him. I found out later he was the pit security officer or "pit bobby" employed by Airedale Collieries Limited and based at Fryston. It was his practice to watch from Fryston Colliery fields and notify the police at Fairburn and Brotherton that coal pickers were busy. This sparked off a major operation; police and Mr. Fitton would converge on the coal pickers from four directions. Fairburn at this time boasted a sergeant
and constable, so that one could proceed via Cut Lane and the other "downt' snicket" or "t'old lukin' scee" as it was usually called. The Brotherton policeman came along the bank from Brotherton and. "Fitton" from Fryston.

The striking miners were quite prepared for this and kept a keen watch on the movements of the police from the upstairs windows overlooking the tip. Long blasts on whistles were blown to warn those occupied on their coal picking expeditions. Coal sacks were quickly hidden in the bushes and grimy faced miscreants with dirty hands left the coal, hoping to collect it later, and faced the police along the "cut" bank quite nonchalantly because they were on a public footpath. Sometimes there was some slip-up and the wily police caught the men red handed. This was very seldom but attracted much attention when it happened. Children and adults alike lined the road from Cut Lane to the sergeant's house and followed as those caught were escorted laughing and joking through the village while the police carried full or half full bags of coal as evidence. Later the accused were taken to Sherburn Court where they were fined ten shillings for stealing coal. What happened to the coal one never seemed to know although it was said that it warmed the houses of the police who had been so vigilant in their profession.

We children were not allowed to transgress the law, but fuel was necessary to keep the house warm and our attention was turned to the tips - old limestone quarries worked during the last century and left as scars on the countryside, but now being filled with
the refuse discarded by householders'and thrown into ash pits. These ash pits were emptied by the local farmer when necessary,
who sent men with horses, cart, and shovels to chuck the ash, tins, and the contents of the earth closets into the cart and take it away to the tips. This seemed to be done about once a month in the summer but even less in the winter.

The miners were always very generous with their allocation of coal. No one ever went without fire and the miners themselves hardly ever let their fires out, except to do the "blackleading" each Friday or Saturday. The grates were such that huge cinders dropped into thelarge ashpans and were shovelled out with the ash and thrown, without any conscience, into the ashpits. The cinders were now valuable for burning on the fires although some had been in the quarries for several years. It was in search of these cinders that the assault was made on the quarries of the area.

Once again with our carpet bags and trowels or even metal spikes, we went off to the tips and dug into the refuse tipped loosely. As our bags were filled, and we could fill them to the top with cinders because they were much lighter than the coal we had picked from the river bank, we made our way home to deposit our treasure in the empty buckets. The chance of catching a disease never seemed to enter our minds - we needed fuel and fuel was to be had, so it was gathered.

Keeping our fires going was not our only occupation - we needed food and clothing, we needed money. Bread was brought to the village and families were given an allocation. Where the bread came from I did not find out for several years. Later I was told that it was made from ingredients bought by the union funds and baked by volunteers in their homes. The bread was different from that I was used to although it still tasted home baked but it was more crusty and biscuit-like.

At school shoes arrived to be distributed to those whose footwear was beyond its normal life. We were always kept well clothed and shod though our clothes were patched and shoes mended at home, so I envied those who were given bright new shoes, some to be sold
at the earliest opportunity.

As the time wore on more "Parish" was drawn to keep homes provided with the very bare essentials. It was charity and those with a conscience hated to depend on charity. At last the peas began to

to help the family budget and also buy that little extra for the home. In 1926 the whole household joined in and pulled bucket after bucket for the princely sum of three half pence a bucket or a "peck". The three half pence was in the old money too. There were three of us plus mother and father able to pick the peas, but there were two younger mouths to feed. We had a good summer and peas were good, so the extra income was also good or better than we expected. We lived, but only just, and managed very well into the autumn.
The miners' union continued to hold out even though the other unions had succumbed after nine days of a general strike. After six months, hunger and despair drove the miners back to work at the employers' terms. These were hard desperate times, little wonder that the colliery owners were the most hated men on earth in the mining districts! This attitude existed till Nationalisation in 1947.