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After the Lights Go On Again
by Stella Thompson McInnis
$20.00
Chapter One - Preston
Looking back now I realize that the only permanent feature of me home town (now a city) is that it stands between two rivers... The Ribble and the Cocker. Central Lancashire was fertile and the history books say that this area of northwestern England produced a good life for its few early inhabitants prior to the arrival of the Romans. Indeed in 1840 the river left its banks and exposed a horde of 7000 silver coins left in 903AD by some panicked Viking or English king unwilling to let his pay chest fall into the hands of the enemy. But I can assure you there was nothing left for me or me generation when I arrived in me parents arms in 1935.
The town itself, looks back to its founding as a monastery by St. Wilfred in 670AD and maybe even earned its name of Preston from ‘tun’ or town of the priests. The monastery probably became the parish church dedicated to St. Wilfred until the Reformation, when the name was changed to a more acceptable St Johns. No doubt the early town was built of wood and was a small farm market centre, but warfare, fire, plague and famine could strike at any time. The guild movement strove to look after the benefit of their members and even began to influence the government of the town. Preston made steady progress and was the first town outside of London to have gas lighting.
Lady Oxford remarked, “Preston was one of the prettiest retirements in England and may be for its beauty and largeness compare with most cities. Further she added that for politeness of its residents no town could surpass it.”
The rise of the industrial revolution changed Preston. Wood gave way to brick, population boomed, manufacturing jobs were plentiful in the cotton mills, but the mills which initially ran on water or horse power turned to coal. But the advent of coal also marked a change in outlook. Preston’s initial economic boom began to give way to a rising number of problems. Soon Preston began to represent all that was bad about the industrial age. Reports of growing poverty, alcoholism, lack of housing, no running water for sanitation made for a grim austere lifestyle.
In 1867 a report on the local work house (for the poor) described the house as being old, ill managed and unsuitable in every respect. Ventilation was said to be unknown, and the wards were dark, gloomy and unhealthy. Inmates had no closets, for conveniences, human waste was handled by buckets. Some residents were without clothing and most were without shoes or stockings. An inspector stated that his visit was the most distressing and repulsive that he had ever made to a work house.
In fairness the report brought about the construction of a new modern building with much improved facilities. Of late the building is used as the headquarters for the local health authority.
Prior to the economic boom the population was stable around 6000 with few reasons to move. The expansion coincided with the potato famine in Ireland and many Irish Catholics made the journey to Preston for a new life. In the early 1800’s the population doubled every 20 years arriving at 83000 by 1861. Preston may have grown faster if it had been less socially active. Long strikes trying to force wages back up after 2 successive wage reductions over 15 years led to much bitterness and bad feelings when the strike collapsed and left the unions in defeat. Perhaps Dickens heard of the cotton managers when he created Mr Gradgrind in Hard Times.
During the Industrial Revolution, Preston became a major textile centre. Cotton Mills sprang up all over. The climate was rainy and damp which was ideal for keeping the yarn moist. John Horrocks set up the first cotton mill in Preston. Me Mam worked there during World War II.
In Preston time is measured in Guild parades. Held every 20 years, originally to remind everyone of the power and influence on community life that the Guilds held, they became huge social occasions.One was honored to be invited to represent your guild, club or church to the public lining the street.
It was a simpler time and finding and knowing ones place made the lack of opportunity more bearable. When you look at school pictures of youngsters when me parents were growing up you don’t see happy smiling faces of children enjoying their childhood. You see children who were growing up hard because life was hard at home and leisure time and extras were not known.
Our house was heated by coal when it was heated. And while that was a common smell in the summer when the wind blew you might smell the river, or the mills or the green country. Outside on the streets horses, children, pets, cars and trucks all competed for space on the community roads. Because I was born between the great wars every family we knew had been touched by WW1, with missing fathers, uncles and brothers. Such was the state of me home town in 1935.
Chapter Two - My Early Years
So come with me now to Avenham Road in Preston and join me unscheduled early arrival on this planet.
The reason for me early arrival was due to the fact that me Dad and Mam had an argument that led to me Dad kicking me Mam in her stomach when she was pregnant with me. Me Mam went to the medical clinic for advice. She was told to prepare for the birth of her baby that day. Me Mam informed me Dad that he had better make arrangements with the midwife to come to the house.
He just ignored her and went out to the local pub. Fortunately, the lady who lived in the downstairs apartment heard me Mam screaming. She came upstairs and saw that me Mam was in early labour. She immediately called the midwife and with the help of the lady from downstairs, I came into this world weighing about three pounds.
Me Grandparents were contacted and when they saw me, they were sure I would not survive and called the Priest right away and arranged for me to be baptized. I was so premature that I was not expected to live. I ended up being fed with a fountain pen filler. Me Mam had read a book about a ‘Lady of the Catholic Church’ her name was Stella Maris. Me Mam liked that name so she asked the Priest to name me Stella Maris Thompson.
Me Mam had four children by the time she was twenty two. I was the last one to be born, on January 30th, 1935. I had two older brothers Francis Brian (age 3) and Robert Keith (age 2) and me sister Margaret Maureen (age 1). Me mam, Nora Agnes Battersby, was an only child and born into a financially comfortable family where she wanted for nothing. Me Mam’s parents forced her to marry me dad, Thomas Thompson, because she was pregnant with me eldest brother.
Mam had a job but I don’t know anything about it. All I remember was that me Mam dropped me off at a nursery school in the centre of town. I can still remember crying when Mam walked away leaving me looking through the railings.