The Hotspur Press building was originally an old Manchester mill. All the floors were wooden and very dusty. There was an old cleaner called Fred assisted by a guy who had both learning difficulties and was physically disfigured. I am glad to say I can’t ever recall anyone treating him with anything but respect. But you have to remember that hot metal letterpress printing had much in the way of environmental hazards which today would seem positively foolhardy. There were many ingots of lead alloy hanging from chains above melting pots sending fumes throughout the building, printing ink fumes now known to be carcinogenic as well as solvents and other products – forget any romantic notions about crafts of the past.
My Grandfather who worked in the stereo department once received a letter which gave a flavour of how things used to be:
‘I’m sure it will be a great change from working in the stereo room with the smells from the river, the gas works and Macintosh’s. No doubt some of the other fellows who have not been so active as you the arduous discipline to be very painful…No wonder you are hungry at suppertime when there is no parcel for you from Maggie that you used to get when working late on Doggy ( a reference to Our Dogs magazine).’
(Letter dated Sept 20 1916 after Bob Cummings was stationed at a army training camp after volunteering in the First World War)
All our hands used to be covered in ink and lead and before every break we were allowed five minutes washing up time when with the help of Swarfega we could attempt to clean them before eating. However, smoking was obviously rife and no one washed their hands before having a swift fag.
The Bean Syndicate
Every morning Edna from the canteen on the top floor used to come down the lift to each floor and shout ‘Trolley’. She was very small but with an extraordinary loud voice. That was when we all got our rounds of toast (thick sliced, covered in butter) and the more ingenious ones among use managed to heat up a tin of beans to supplement our mid morning repast. In fact, I belonged to the bean syndicate whereby I had to supply a small tin of Heinz baked beans every few days – beans with sausages was an occasional treat. The way the beans were heated up was quite clever. Just off the Lino Room there was a sliding door behind which were the hand washing sinks. Each one had hot water supplied by a gas fired water heater. These were quite crude affairs, cylindrical with a removal top. By taking the top off and placing an open tin of beans inside and replacing the top, after a few minutes the beans would be heated up in the tin.
This went on for most of the time I was at Percy Brothers until it was banned by the management because one of our more absent minded colleagues (Pat Murphy, aka McGinty) forgot to open the lid on the tin causing a large explosion together with a large deposit of baked beans on the ceiling – they may still be there for all I know!