The Little Brass Button



 

Before he died in April, 2000, my father, ninety two year old Sid Hall, of Salisbury Road, Barnet, told me what it was like working in Barnet as a young man, seventy five years ago, and recounted the story of the little brass button.

Pop is 3rd from right standing
The Williams' Brothers Football Team, 1931


Pop aged about 22 years
Sid Hall in about 1930

I lived in Potters Bar and started work in Barnet on May 22nd, 1923, at Williams' Brothers Grocers and Provision Merchants, in the High Street. My wages were 25 shillings a week (£1.25) which was top rate for a lad of fifteen in those days.

There was a piece of land in the High Street known as The Market Place. It is now a parade of four shops; an opticians, a tobacconist and newsagent, Ladbrokes the Bookmakers and a body tanning establishment.

The market included Barker’s Fruit and Vegetable stall and Mancini’s Coffee stall which was open 24 hours a day, six days a week. On Saturday evenings all of the stalls were cleared away. On Sundays, during the summer, the Salvation Army, complete with band, would hold meetings there.

The stall next to Mancini’s sold confectionary, and the next one sold soap, washing soda and other household requisites.

The only cup of tea that we had in those days was during your lunchtime break There were no coffee or tea breaks during the rest of the day. It was work, work, work every day except for Fridays and Saturdays. On those days, the shop stayed open until eight at night so we had an extra half hour as a tea break each afternoon. It was in to Ludford’s coffee shop for two rounds of dripping toast at three ha’pence a round and a cup of tea.

During my lunch break, I usually went to Mancini’s coffee stall. On very rare occasions I would buy a 16 ounce tin of Heinz Baked Beans with Pork and Tomato Sauce for five pence. (Today they cost about 28p and there’s no pork!) Then I would go to Mancini’s for a cup of tea to wash it down. He served the best cup of tea for miles around at three ha’pence a cup. There was always a good selection of things to eat as well. There were cheese cakes with white icing and long strands of coconut on top at three ha’pence and a couple of other types of cakes for tuppence each. Cheese rolls were tuppence-ha’penny; ham rolls thruppence; hot saveloys in a roll - tuppence-ha’penny; Doubleday’s hot, steak pies were tuppence-ha’penny and Wall’s pork pies, hot or cold, were thruppence.

I think it must have been about 1925 or 1926, there was building work going on in the High Street and a young man named Joe Humphreys was doing the brick laying. Joe used to go to the coffee stall for his midday break.

One lunch time, he came in wearing his usual working togs which included an army khaki tunic with brass buttons. On this particular day, he told us that one of the buttons had come loose and had got in his way. So, he pulled it off and stuck it in the mortar of the wall that he was building.

I can’t remember the exact words he said but it was something like, “You can look at that wall in years to come and remember me when I’m gone!”

Joe was a Barnet chap and lived at the lower end of Sebright Road. He owned a Triumph motor bike and was out riding it one day when poor old Joe had an accident. Tragically, he was killed.

That little brass button, now somewhat tarnished, is still there after some seventy five years. Whenever I walk down the High Street, I often gaze up at it and think of what Joe said all those years ago.

I may be the only person alive in Barnet today that knows of the existence and location of that little brass button. I wonder if anyone else knows about it?”

The button in the wall
The Little Brass Button

 

Unfortunately, my father did not live to see his story published.

 

 

The Little Brass Button is embedded in the wall of what is now the Lloyds TSB Bank.  Dad always hoped that someone would take the responsibility for keeping it clean and polished, as a memorial to poor old Joe.

Lloyds/TSB Bank in Barnet High Street

 

Story and photos are © David Hall, August, 2000