Down Cricklewood Lane was farmland. Mr Dicker's farm stretched away to West Hampstead and there was another farm opposite Cricklewood Midland Station, which had originally been called Child's Hill Station. Halfway to the station on the right was The Tavern public house, (now the Cricklewood tavern I think) and beside it a little low cottage. This is the only building standing today exactly as it was in 1860. Our Mother said it was a Dame School to which she went in 1861 when she was 4. A pathway opposite, called The Avenue, led to Mr Dicker's farmhouse.
Our Mother was born in a cottage behind The Castle Inn. Her mother had a very large family and took in washing. Mother remembered when she was about 10 walking all the way to Oxford Street with her brother, carrying laundry. When it was paid for they could buy a bun or something to eat. Mother also remembered going to a little fountain in the Sandy Gallop (see footnote) to buy drinking water.
When she was 11 she had a job as a servant in a dairy in Albany Street. She helped the women to put on their wooden yokes and attach the full pails of milk. After a time she asked for 1s 6d a week instead of 1s 3d. When it was refused she left, and obtained a job as a "tweeny" in a large house. There she rose to be cook. Then she became a cook in Grandfather's house and Dad fell in love with her. Although their mother had been a cook too, the aunts did not think their brother should marry a cook! So Mother ran away, Father followed her and they were married.
Buckinghamshire Connections
Mrs. Poulton, wife of the Baptist Minister, had come from Great Missenden, Bucks, and this led to a close connection between our family and the farms and little Chapels there. My earliest recollection, when aged 5, was being taken by Father in the pony van which was used to take orders to the big houses. We carried a magic lantern and cylinders of gas for Father to entertain at one of the little Chapels in Great Missenden. I remember staying in a beautiful farmer's house and seeing my hostess wearing a lace cap.
Mother worked tremendously hard, not only looking after us but cooking for all the assistants in the shops. There was no Shop Closing Act then. When the Red Lion closed at 10 pm people thought of the food they needed and we were busy until we closed at 11 pm. I remember Dad waiting up for the van to return from Smithfield Market or from the Surrey Docks where it had gone for sugar, etc. If the roads wore icy it was very late. Even if it were midnight Dad would wait to rub down the horses and see them comfortable for the night. He loved his horses and pony. I watched him doctor them, give them medicine, rub them with. Ellimans Embrocation or poultice them with linseed or mustard. He used to treat us in the same way, with no mercy!
Sugar and flour came in hundredweight sacks and had to be weighed out. I used to watch my aunt cut blue paper into squares. She would then take a square and twist it into a cup, fill it with 1 lb. of sugar and press in the top. I saw Father open a large wooden box of eggs in shavings. He would take each egg separately and test it at a light to see if it was fresh. There would be many broken ones, with which Mother used to make custard and sponge cake. There wasn't much profit in those days. We couldn't afford to eat the biscuits, jam and sweets Dad sold, unless it was the broken biscuits which came in a large wooden tub, almost as tall as I was. I well remember climbing up and reaching down into the tub for a special favourite.
Original editor's footnote: Sandy Gallop is Sandy Road today, - it runs down to the Leg of Mutton pond and the West Heath. The "fountain" was on the opposite side of Sandy Road from the Pond, about half way down the road from West Heath Road. It has vanished now, but when we looked for it in 1977 we found the ground marshy where it had been, and many water-loving plants still growing there.
When she was 11 she had a job as a servant in a dairy in Albany Street. She helped the women to put on their wooden yokes and attach the full pails of milk. After a time she asked for 1s 6d a week instead of 1s 3d. When it was refused she left, and obtained a job as a "tweeny" in a large house. There she rose to be cook. Then she became a cook in Grandfather's house and Dad fell in love with her. Although their mother had been a cook too, the aunts did not think their brother should marry a cook! So Mother ran away, Father followed her and they were married.
Buckinghamshire Connections
Mrs. Poulton, wife of the Baptist Minister, had come from Great Missenden, Bucks, and this led to a close connection between our family and the farms and little Chapels there. My earliest recollection, when aged 5, was being taken by Father in the pony van which was used to take orders to the big houses. We carried a magic lantern and cylinders of gas for Father to entertain at one of the little Chapels in Great Missenden. I remember staying in a beautiful farmer's house and seeing my hostess wearing a lace cap.
Mother worked tremendously hard, not only looking after us but cooking for all the assistants in the shops. There was no Shop Closing Act then. When the Red Lion closed at 10 pm people thought of the food they needed and we were busy until we closed at 11 pm. I remember Dad waiting up for the van to return from Smithfield Market or from the Surrey Docks where it had gone for sugar, etc. If the roads wore icy it was very late. Even if it were midnight Dad would wait to rub down the horses and see them comfortable for the night. He loved his horses and pony. I watched him doctor them, give them medicine, rub them with. Ellimans Embrocation or poultice them with linseed or mustard. He used to treat us in the same way, with no mercy!
Sugar and flour came in hundredweight sacks and had to be weighed out. I used to watch my aunt cut blue paper into squares. She would then take a square and twist it into a cup, fill it with 1 lb. of sugar and press in the top. I saw Father open a large wooden box of eggs in shavings. He would take each egg separately and test it at a light to see if it was fresh. There would be many broken ones, with which Mother used to make custard and sponge cake. There wasn't much profit in those days. We couldn't afford to eat the biscuits, jam and sweets Dad sold, unless it was the broken biscuits which came in a large wooden tub, almost as tall as I was. I well remember climbing up and reaching down into the tub for a special favourite.
Original editor's footnote: Sandy Gallop is Sandy Road today, - it runs down to the Leg of Mutton pond and the West Heath. The "fountain" was on the opposite side of Sandy Road from the Pond, about half way down the road from West Heath Road. It has vanished now, but when we looked for it in 1977 we found the ground marshy where it had been, and many water-loving plants still growing there.
