Harringay, Haringey - So Good they Spelt it Twice!
Memories of Harringay in the 1920's-1930's, Part Four
Local Sweetheart
A mile or so away from our home was another source of delight. This was a sweet factory where vast quantities of the most delicious things were made.
Sherbet fountains, sherbet dabs, liquorice bootlaces, gob-stoppers, Everlasting toffee, betel nuts, humbugs, bulls-eyes, coconut ice and many other delights. A positive paradise.
In fact, all the products were lurid, multi-coloured and probably made from the cheapest and most suspect ingredients possible. But to me they had a magnetic attraction.
Each Saturday I had one penny (that is, one old penny, or 1/240th of a pound), pocket money and within minutes the factory had got some of it, by way of the local sweet shop.
Norman Parsons and I would go to this local shop (corner of Hampden Road), clutching our pennies, and I would be in amongst the brightly-coloured sweets immediately.
Norman, on the other hand, would pause, ponder, and then more often than not would say "No, I will save up for a few more weeks until I can afford a bar of Toblerone. Its much more nourishing".
And then potential disaster struck. One day my mother was walking past the sweet factory when she saw a man unloading sacks of sugar from the back of a horse-drawn cart, and taking them into the building.
But instead of carrying them on his back he was dragging them over the road and across the pavement. It had been raining heavily, the road was wet and had its usual generous covering of horse dung. Consternation!
That night I was told never ever again to buy sweets made by that dreadful company for, if I did, I would surely catch some awful illness from their unhygienic methods of handling the raw materials. I obeyed her, of course!
It was to that same shop on the corner of Hampden Road to which I was sent in 1930, one Sunday morning I think, by my father to buy his paper. Earlier that year I had watched in awe and amazement as Britain’s airship R101 cruised over Harringay, made a leisurely circle around Alexandra Palace, and then went on its way elsewhere. It started for me a life-long love of those beautiful majestic craft.
But on that fateful Sunday morning, outside the paper shop, I saw a placard which screamed:
R101 CRASHES. MANY KILLED.
For a few seconds I stood dumbfounded. How could this possibly be? I ran back home as fast as I could to tell my father the dreadful news. Unfortunately I had omitted to buy his paper!
A mile or so away from our home was another source of delight. This was a sweet factory where vast quantities of the most delicious things were made.
Sherbet fountains, sherbet dabs, liquorice bootlaces, gob-stoppers, Everlasting toffee, betel nuts, humbugs, bulls-eyes, coconut ice and many other delights. A positive paradise.
In fact, all the products were lurid, multi-coloured and probably made from the cheapest and most suspect ingredients possible. But to me they had a magnetic attraction.
Each Saturday I had one penny (that is, one old penny, or 1/240th of a pound), pocket money and within minutes the factory had got some of it, by way of the local sweet shop.
Norman Parsons and I would go to this local shop (corner of Hampden Road), clutching our pennies, and I would be in amongst the brightly-coloured sweets immediately.
Norman, on the other hand, would pause, ponder, and then more often than not would say "No, I will save up for a few more weeks until I can afford a bar of Toblerone. Its much more nourishing".
And then potential disaster struck. One day my mother was walking past the sweet factory when she saw a man unloading sacks of sugar from the back of a horse-drawn cart, and taking them into the building.
But instead of carrying them on his back he was dragging them over the road and across the pavement. It had been raining heavily, the road was wet and had its usual generous covering of horse dung. Consternation!
That night I was told never ever again to buy sweets made by that dreadful company for, if I did, I would surely catch some awful illness from their unhygienic methods of handling the raw materials. I obeyed her, of course!
It was to that same shop on the corner of Hampden Road to which I was sent in 1930, one Sunday morning I think, by my father to buy his paper. Earlier that year I had watched in awe and amazement as Britain’s airship R101 cruised over Harringay, made a leisurely circle around Alexandra Palace, and then went on its way elsewhere. It started for me a life-long love of those beautiful majestic craft.
But on that fateful Sunday morning, outside the paper shop, I saw a placard which screamed:
R101 CRASHES. MANY KILLED.
For a few seconds I stood dumbfounded. How could this possibly be? I ran back home as fast as I could to tell my father the dreadful news. Unfortunately I had omitted to buy his paper!
Views: 119
Tags for Forum Posts: Harringay Alumni memories, arthur astop's harringay, harringay memories
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Comment by Liz on February 5, 2009 at 11:15
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Thanks Arthur, you know I think I would have felt the same as your mother over the sweets :)
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Comment by rahman on February 5, 2009 at 12:30
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I have such a sweet tooth, i would have continued buying those sweets, horse dung or no horse dung! :D
Is that the old chocolate factory in wood green where the mosaica restaurant is located now?
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Comment by Arthur Astrop on February 5, 2009 at 12:41
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Rahman
Many thanks for your comment. I'm fairly sure the sweet factory was Barratts, although cannot be certain my memory is correct. It was for that reason, also to avoid the risk of having a law suit land on my doormat, that I chose not to include a name ! Barratts was eventually taken over by Bassetts, but there might be some descendants of the original factory still alive. Better safe than sorry!
Arthur Astrop
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Comment by alistairj on February 5, 2009 at 12:59
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Barratts sweet factory is on the right of this photo added by Hugh
http://www.harringayonline.com/photo/photo/show?id=844301%3APhoto%3A5911
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yup, i remember the smell of Maynards in my back garden :)
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Yes, I went to a nursery school near Hermitage Road, and Maynards was very close. You could smell the sweetness in the air.
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My Father, who was an electric engineer was invited to Barrets, and I remember him saying that everything in the building was permeated with a sort of sticky coating, even all the hand rails.
Anyhow,they still made amazing confectionary- Who remembers those sherbert filled 'Flying Saucers', Shrimps,
Chocolate bananers, 'Firemans Hoses' 'Scouts Pipe' the latter being a sort of cartoon copy of a tobacco pipe formed in liquorice.
Trebor, now theres a name! How many of you realised that it was Robert spelt backwards. How imaginative!!
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I remember all those sweets Robert. My Mum used to work evenings at Barrets (probably late 50s/early 60s) and regularly came home laden with a rich assortment. And Jubilee Bags (I think they were called). Such joy.
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