Taking a bath in Ulverston canal

She lived from March in 1917 to May in 2006 and her written memories of life in a changing town have kindly supplied by granddaughter Emma Church, who lives in Congleton, Cheshire.

In this first of three extracts we look at Ulverston in the time of her parents who were William Henry Samuel Riley, born in 1877 and died in 1950 and Elizabeth Jane Brown, born in 1887 and died in 1955

Elsie writes:

My father remembered Ulverston when it was a thriving port.

He grew up in a house on the canal bank, so cargo boats would pass the house.

These boats supplied many commodities to most of the local merchants in the town, also to the various industries along the canal bank.

We had a paper mill, coal-yard, boatyard and Ironworks, which seemed to dominate the town with the constant hum of the turbines, the loud works buzzer and the way the sky was lit up when they tipped the red-hot slag.

The viaduct and the railway were built in the 1800s and must have been a great boon to travellers, sparing them the hazardous journey across the treacherous sands by coach and horses from Lancaster.

Eventually the railway became the lifeline of Ulverston, and as the railway was a quicker form of transport the canal traffic, after a struggle, became extinct and industries went elsewhere.

The paper mill used to expel hot water into the canal.

This was made good use of by the local lads they would take a piece of soap and have a bath. Our homes were not blessed with bathrooms then.

There was a fresh water stream, which flowed into the canal, this has been allowed to dry up.

It was a great paddling place this ‘feeder’ in my younger days.

Wild Iris and bulrushes grew along its banks. We fished for minnows and tadpoles, which were collected in jam jars and put on the school windowsill.

We had hours of fun playing with red clay, which could be dug out of the ‘feeder’.

My father was a porter on the Ulverston passenger station.

Before the days of electricity, I can remember him walking along the line to Plumpton, lighting the oil lamps.

Plumpton was a lovely place. In the spring the fields were carpeted with primroses and cowslips and the woods blue with bluebells.

In autumn crab apples and blackberries grew in abundance, there were hazelnuts too.

They were gathered and preserved in salt for Christmas eating.

Children wandered the lanes and wood quite safely.

Usually the “Big Girls” would take a few little ones for a walk on Sunday.

We would climb Hoad to the monument and we climbed around the bandstand at the bottom of Hoad.

The bandstand was unique. It was made up of shaped stones and was enclosed by railings. The town band would play there in the summer.

My parents told me that Ulverston had some very good German bands before the First World War and a small wooden theatre, I think where Lightburn Park now is.

They said many great stage celebrities played there before they became famous.

In the summer lots of parents took their children to the shore to picnic.

There were landing stages to run on and fishing boats on the beach to explore.

The sand was clean and the water clear and unpolluted.

Tridley shore was the place where the children would harvest the ‘winkles’ from under the viaduct arches.

The older ones would tread for cockles and flukes.

Through all the enjoyment everyone had to be aware of the quick sands and of the vicious life threatening tides which would creep up and surround the unwary.

I remember the rowing boats on the canal that were hired by the hour. These were kept at the top of the canal.

Also there was Charnleys wood yard, which opened on to North Lonsdale road.

Across the road was a large piece of land where Charnleys would season whole tree trunks.

Gypsies would often camp there. Some of the caravans were beautifully decorated in bright colours, others were caravans covered like the old covered wagons.

The men would sit on the steps making clothes pegs.

The babies were bathed in cold water to “harden them up”, so they said.