Auntie Wyn’s Briefcase


by W.A.D. Glossop

December 2010

 

My permanent address, for the whole of my life, has been Totley Rise, so it's hardly surprising that I've always been interested in past as well as present residents. One always remembers 'characters' and I'm sure that we must sometimes bore friends as we repeat well-worn stories about them - I have often spotted the glazed look!

 

It has probably never been easier to access information about past notables thanks to the dedicated work of local historians. All of us can do our bit to help. You never know, your vital scrap of knowledge may solve a mystery. There is unlikely to be a free book in it, but you could warrant a footnote in history and that should give you a buzz! 

 

Being born into a family in the cutlery trade, one may expect that the name of Harry Brearley would excite my curiosity. Now in 2010 we are on the countdown to Centennial celebrations of the discovery of stainless steel.

Firstly, articles will appear in 2012 about the successful tackling of problems concerned with the erosion and fouling of rifle barrels and the inner tubes of guns. Harry Brearley's name became a little better known a little later on. Once he had discovered and named stainless steel he wasted no time in telling his employers of his belief that given suitable treatment this material could be made to make cutlery. They did not believe him. He was very disappointed at their reaction, but trusted his own judgement. He began obtaining patents, starting a firm “Amalgams” with a friend, that led to the making of table knives by R.F.Mosley's. (The cutler who actually made them, on being told they would be rustless, replied, “Bloody likely, it'd be contrary to nature”.)

I would now like to introduce the lady without whom I should have no story to tell. I think many would agree that among those who are likely to know a person best could well be his secretary, so I'd better say a little about Winifred Beard.


She was born in Stroud in 1897 and came to live in “Moorland View”, Victoria Road, Totley in 1913. She was trained as a shorthand typist and went to work for Brown Bayley's, probably in that year. She spent all her working life there. Her work for Harry Brearley would most likely start around 1925. Auntie Wyn never married - she was engaged to my Uncle Arthur along the way, but nothing came of it! No doubt she went to work on the train (two shillings a week return, Dore to Attercliffe Road). She would use the short cut from Victoria Road - down through the wood and across Totley Brook into Colin Thompson's field and across the farmyard on to the Back Lane. Victoria Road residents paid a penny for this privilege. Wyn and her elder sister Nell, my wife Judy's mother, both helped as volunteers during the First World War at the V.A.D. hospital. This was in St. John's Church Rooms, now the G.P.O. sorting office.

Since this story is much concerned with Auntie Wyn and Brown Bayley's, I must include recently acquired information. The Beard girls had a younger brother, Reg, who was born in 1899 and died in 1995 in New Zealand. Reg came to Totley with the rest of the family in 1913 and went to Dronfield Grammar School until he was sixteen. He started work at Hadfield's in their laboratory and stayed until he joined up aged just over 17. He was soon sent to France, and was in the Royal Engineers' Gas Section. He was able to resume work at Hadfield's as soon as the war was over, and then very soon afterwards at Brown Bayley's in the Stainless Steel field. He stayed 11 years at Brown Bayley's and became a foreman in the stainless rolling mills, remembering names like R.F.Mosley (first makers of stainless steel cutlery) being stamped on products.

The Directors of Brown Bayley's, very ably led by Mr. Robert Armitage as Chairman of the company from 1895 until his death in 1944, thought highly of Harry Brearley.  When Harry insisted on “retiring” in 1925 they gave him every encouragement to use the laboratory for his own purposes and Mr. Armitage had a splendid office, 30 feet square, built for him overlooking the works.  The first class desk / bookcase now sits in our lounge.  Drop down the desk top and you are faced by a printed American card, and encouraged to “Plan your work, then work your plan”.  


 Auntie Wyn operated from this office, and no doubt typed up the books that he later wrote.  Her help is acknowledged inside the covers of her personal copies. “Steelmakers” (1933) says, “Miss Beard, with thanks fit for a king's remembrance”.  His life story “Knotted String” (1941) says, “Winifred Beard from a grateful friend” and “Steelmaking” (1946) has, “Winifred Beard with enduring gratitude from Harry Brearley”.  In “Knotted String” he pays tribute to Auntie Wyn, though not by name.  He says, “My knowledge of women in industry is confined to the kitchen end of life, and an appreciation of a very competent secretary.” 


 I never met Mr. Brearley but my wife Judy did.  It was on a Saturday morning in 1938 when she went down to Brown Bayley's with Auntie Wyn.  Mr. Brearley gave her a copy of an allegory he had just written; I understand, for the daughter of a friend, about his discovery of stainless steel. It's called “The story of Ironie”.


Having the custody of a briefcase full of stuff, much of which concerns the man, the family and friends of Mr. Brearley, I must add my four penn'orth, in the hope that there will be lesser-known items of interest to entertain admirers of such a “character” and true son of Sheffield.


Anyone who is acquainted with the Northern General Hospital may well be able to recite the six names Firth, Hadfield, Vickers, Huntsman, Sorby and Brearley: all areas of the hospital named after notables in the history of the steel industry.  I was recently a patient for a day or two and finished up in Brearley Ward 4. This grabbed my interest, and when an x-ray was needed, there was the lengthy wheelchair push between the two locations. I'm afraid I regaled my unfortunate porter with the useless information that I was happy to be in Brearley Ward and happened to have Harry's birth, marriage and death certificates!  Fortunately I could not see the porter's face, but a voice from behind me simply said, “Oh yes?” 


Harry Brearley's wife Helen was a private person and little mentioned in his writings, but she was his loving partner and number one supporter for nearly 47 years.  She was born Ellen Theresa Crank in 1874 in Nottingham Street.  Her father's occupation was recorded as a clerk and later on he became a coal dealer. When she married Harry he could not have been regarded as much of a “catch” because he was only earning £2 a week and had not long finished paying back £50 borrowed from a friend - this was to pay a premium for the privilege of introduction to the job of an assistant in the works lab. 


They came to Brook Terrace, Mickley Lane, Totley (1895), almost penniless but much in love, and they were a practical couple. The first Saturday evening they had spent fourpence on a Chivers jelly tablet to make a special sweet for the Sunday dinner, but they had nibbled most of it before it could be made into a jelly!  A friend had just given them a wedding present of twenty shillings, saving a difficult situation but they were not afraid, Helen said, “Perfect love casteth out fear”.  Once, in the Cogging Mill, where there had been a prolonged strike, endless meetings had not settled the matter.  It was decided to give a whole day to discussing outstanding issues.  The meeting was on a Sunday at the Brearleys.  Because of rationing, meat was not obtainable, so Mrs. Brearley made two large sage and onion pies and a very big rice pudding.  The morning discussions went badly, but after the sage and onion pies things went much better, agreement was reached and relations became much better all round  - the Sage and Onion Pie Agreement was long remembered! 


 Auntie Wyn had been Mr. Brearley's secretary from about 1925.  But a few years later he had a problem, hence his wife's letter: 

“Mr. Brearley says he is going to adjust his comings to Sheffield so that the stress of work there and the two journeys won't be too fatiguing. It would add to his comfort if you came down to Torquay when necessary & save a journey at times. As you & I haven't met, although I feel I know you, don't you think it would be nice if you could spend a week with us, say this next Friday? I am quite a simple person, not a bit clever, but I think we might have things in common & I am so often grateful to you for looking so well after Mr. Brearley.

               With kind wishes

               Yours sincerely

               Helen Brearley”


I have no doubt that Wyn would go down to Torquay and believe such visits recurred from time to time.

In late February 1948, just a few months before he died, Mr. Brearley was recovering from an illness and they were seeking a way of adjusting their lives to some sort of comfortable living. They asked Wyn if she would consider going to live with them and Mrs Brearley asked her to let them know “Honest and true”. This was a request that she gracefully declined without upsetting them. They both understood, and sent their love.


Two years later, when Auntie Wyn was preparing to start looking after her father when he moved to Millhouses from Stroud, Mrs. Brearley wrote and said, “I'm venturing to send you something I prize & would like you to have to greet your coming to the new home. R.L. Stevenson has meant a lot to me since the days I was homesick in Riga & Colin Moorwood introduced me to him. 'Give us courage and gaiety and the quiet mind.' ” It's a book of prayers written when Stevenson was in Samoa, I believe. Inside the cover is inscribed “Elmwood 1910”. I have just discovered that the Brearleys lived in this house in Old Whittington, Chesterfield.


This prompted me to ask my daughter Ruth to pursue Brearley connections with Chesterfield. We found that in addition to Brearley Park we have a Road, an Avenue and a Street bearing the family name. I wonder whether Harry was commuting from Chesterfield when he made his stainless discovery in 1913?

 

We have a copy of a notice advertising for sale by auction in 1929 a substantial property in three acres of ground at Walton. This must have been around the time that the Brearleys took up permanent residence in Torquay.

 

We know that Mr. Brearley was on excellent terms with the Chairman, Managing Director and others at Chesterfield Tube Works, where he had been welcomed as a visitor for several years. He learned that Firth's had bought a large block of the Tube Works' shares and had two of their directors on the Board and were using the company's facilities in every way to make stainless steel tubes. He was therefore surprised to receive increasingly pressing invitations from the Tube Works to visit their place to see what was being done.

Brown Bayley's had been given an order for stainless steel, to be followed by larger orders and Harry learned that it worked up into good tubes. Mr. Brearley was finally asked to see an extensive exhibit of stainless steel tubes made from material supplied by Firth's.  He agreed provided he was

not asked to inform the steelmakers should their material prove faulty. Harry's nous and expertise soon found that the root of the trouble was in the steel-making, and their responsibility. This led to Mr. Brearley's appointment as consulting metallurgist to the Tube Works, and incidentally a later working connection with Brown Bayley's, based on mutual respect and helpfulness.

The Brearleys' only child was named Leo Taylor Brearley, born at Totley in 1896. We know that Harry was soon in trouble with the School Board when it was found that Leo had not been sent to school. No doubt Harry thought that he would be able to make a better job of his education. In “Knotted String” he admitted that he “went over the top” about the matter, but noted that Leo had to appear before a magistrate for neglecting his own son's schooling!


Harry tells of going for a walk round Stocksbridge with his son Leo and calling to see his uncle George. George wanted to know why Leo had been given the second name Taylor. Harry explained that it was the name of someone who had helped and encouraged him when he started work in the chemical laboratory as a boy. Uncle George then told them a story, said to be true (Ed. but see Matthew Brearley's letter about this story at the end of the article), that sounds remarkably reminiscent of Hardy's “Mayor of Casterbridge”. A lady called Mrs.Taylor was being knocked about in Penistone Market by her husband, and George's grandfather gave the man a good hiding and then “took on” this lady for a payment of five shillings. They lived together for many years but never married - so the illegitimate children of this union should have been called Taylor, not Brearley! One of these children was Harry's father. 

 

Mr. Brearley always kept in touch with Leo, and on 1st January 1929 sent him an extremely long letter - his life story. Much of this formed the basis of his autobiography,“Knotted String”, published in 1941. The 1929 letter was re-published in 1989 by British Steel Stainless, in conjunction with Kelham Island Industrial Museum as “Harry Brearley - Stainless Pioneer”. All the notes had been uncovered by Harry's grandson Basil, then living in Australia.

Some of the little that I know of Leo Brearley is gleaned from Australian Victorian Railways newsletters of 1949. He was 18 at the start of the Great War and went in the navy and became a member of a naval brigade attempting to defend Antwerp. This effort proved hopeless, and he escaped to Holland and was interned. He escaped as a stowaway in a merchant ship and got back to England but was not fit for further war service. We know that he spent time in various places abroad, including Russia and South Africa, probably before emigrating to Australia.


For railway buffs, Leo was an engineer of outstanding ability and largely responsible for the introduction of “Bescom” steel in rolling stock construction. He had a very responsible job as “Engineer of Tests” on the Victorian Railways for seven years before retiring in 1934 when his eyes were badly affected. He was a generous and well-respected man with wide interests, and well informed and keenly observant.

 

Leo had five children and it may be that they all stayed in Australia. I note that when his mother Helen died, she left £1,000 to St. Dunstan's. Leo died in 1945, aged 49. He was born at the bottom of Victoria Road, Totley and died in Victoria, Australia.


Mr. Brearley turned his hand to writing about the art of making tool steel in his book “Steelmakers” (1933). He produced a work that is a good read, even for those of us who may find technical stuff boring. At least 35 recipients of a gift of a copy of his latest book sent letters of thanks and appreciation. The letters have been put together and attractively bound in a material that looks like parchment. They have been carefully copied with the sender's name and full address, and where appropriate the name of the company for whom they worked. The first entry is a telegram from Sandringham nr. Melbourne and says, “Have read book with eager enjoyment, best book you have written. Can I have six more copies? – Leo”.

One delighted recipient was probably a peripatetic teacher at Berkhamstead, Stowe and Rugby schools, and finds it exactly what he wanted as a textbook for his boys. He was reading the book on the train and thought the people in his compartment were rather startled to hear a man reading a book entitled “Steelmakers” laughing as though he was reading the latest by Wodehouse. He goes on, “Actually I think yours much superior to 'Sturt', even”.
 

Slater Willis says, “I must say how very heartily I have enjoyed your humour, philosophy, and sanity”. Ronnie Steel says, “Please accept the thanks of a humble learner in the steel trade to one of its leaders”. One interesting, possibly telling, letter from Lewis Firth, a director of the Firth-Sterling Steel Co. in Pittsburgh reads in part:

 

“The copy of your book “Steelmakers” was very welcome and I have enjoyed reading it. I am reminded of the old days at Norfolk Works - it is sixty years in November (1874) since I first took up my work there and began to make things a little more cheerful for my worthy uncles. It was three years later before I was supposed to be earning forty pounds a year. I asked Mark Firth for a rise after twelve months and hesaid “No”, so I spoke to Henry Firth a little later, and he authorised me to draw fifty pounds. The following year he told me to take sixty. As one grows older, many things which had passed from memory seem to come back again and cheer one up - don't you find it so?”

In 1946 Mr. Brearley decided it was time to clear out his office at Brown Bayley's. He wrote to his secretary with instructions, beginning as follows, “When I am in travelling condition and there are good reasons for coming to Sheffield you may see me again in my office, but when I am gathered to my fathers I should like you to accept the toys and tools I have used there to dispose of as you please. I think no one will dispute your decision about what pieces of furniture are mine. The technical books might be offered to B.B., also the picture over the mantelpiece. It might be left where it is as a memento of the busy and happy times which led R.A. to build my office. The Bessemer Medal - let no man have it who lusts for its gold. You are free to do whatever seems to you at the time to be best. (The eventual recipient of this precious award was not decided in his lifetime, and was willed by Mrs. Brearley to Ronald Brearley, a relative who was probably in Australia.)

The Stainless Steel papers, mostly concerned with disputes, are history or psychology on the wing. There is in them a record of what effort it cost me to secure and protect a right in Stainless Steel for B.B's. I don't care whether the papers are preserved or destroyed.

 

The Ink Blots are mine, the Wax Ingots are as much my brother's as mine - both are remnants of a curiosity we cultivated together before we came to B.B's. Any profits arising from published books, rights of translation etc. are to be yours. I hope these requests and bequests will not lead you into trouble.


With many thanks & good wishes for what you will be doing, and apologies for what I have left undone.

            I am, yours gratefully

                   H.B.”


The Ink Blots mentioned were a selection kept from ten thousand examples of blotting paper that had absorbed various writing inks. Some of the patterns were beautiful and remained fresh for many years. The hobbies of bubble-blowing and ink blot making, in addition to having fun, resulted in writing to popular magazines and giving lectures to a score of local societies with a usual fee of half a guinea.

Long after his death, there is a letter written in 1970 from a German firm and addressed to Mr. Brearley at Brown Bayley's, and concerns royalties due to him. A cheque was enclosed and the letter says, “The original attempt to pay was requisitioned by the English Military Occupation Authorities”. A pencil note on this document says, “Paid to W.M.Beard”. The published books referred to are three technical ones, plus the more recent efforts written in retirement.


About 80 years ago, on the advice of his son Leo, Mr. Brearley made a complete break from all work, and spent a year out in Australia and South Africa. He made a bonfire of a card index system so that he could forget technical reading, future plans and engagements. He came back refreshed, but still in love with the infinite variety of interest wrapped up in steelmaking – that he viewed as a pastime and a pleasure. Maybe that was the time he started thinking seriously about what was to be his parting gift, setting up a charitable foundation. He does say that a few men, all in the steel trade, used to meet regularly for lunch and got to talking about how to operate and support ideas which were likely to make life more bearable, cheerful and attractive for workers in humdrum jobs. No doubt many such people would be known to them in this area.

He listed aims like making opportunities for people to read and possess good books, to see good pictures and plays and to hear good music, and to be active in providing such opportunities. He also would subscribe to any local or other charities, and grant donations for any useful public purposes. As late as May 1941, a few months before the trust was set up, Mr. Brearley set down his gathered thoughts. He headed the aims “Bear ye one another's burdens”, and underneath, “The Burden Fund”. He had decided who he would like to have with him as the first governors of “The Freshgate Trust Foundation”. They were all people from Brown Bayley's. There were four directors plus two metallurgists, and his secretary. Three of the governors lived in Totley Rise. (I knew Mrs. Bull, the wife of Harry Bull senior, one of the governors, and often wondered whether their daughter Barbara was the little girl he had in mind when he wrote his story for children, beginning “Dear Barbara”. My dear wife Judy says “pure speculation!”) To show his own commitment he gave £20,000 at once as a nucleus of the Fund. In his will, after making provision for his widow, he left the residue of his estate to the Fund. Mrs. Brearley made similar arrangements in her will.

About six years after “Freshgate” came into being, Mr. Brearley was anxious that decisions made in the running of the organisation should be as good as possible. He evidently thought that being human, mistakes might be made! He asked his secretary if she would consider being a contact, an eye, and someone at liberty to find out for the governors if decisions they had made were up to scratch! I recently asked my friend Mike if it was possible to access any details about the present state of this Charitable Trust, and he soon produced seven pages of information to confirm that the organisation is still in good fettle after 70 years, and mindful of the original intentions of Harry Brearley. The focus of the work is on Education (including travel and training), Medical (psychological and physical), Recreation (including holidays), Music and the Arts, Welfare and Social Care and Heritage. About a third of its income is distributed to local groups and two thirds is open to applications.

 

There is a letter, written by Wyn Beard on 1st January 1971 to Mr K.T. Rowland at 65 St. Vincent Square, London SW1. This was the address of the Stainless Steel Development Association. They were preparing a piece for publication on the centenary of Harry Brearley's birth, 18th February 1871. Wyn said that she had been retired for nine years and was not his secretary around discovery time, and was not authorised to deal with Mr Brearley's dealings with Brown Bayley's regarding the time that he worked for them.

She did offer to lend any relevant publications: “Knotted String”, “Talks about Steelmaking”, “The Story of Ironie” and Harry Brearley's technical books. The SSDA's subsequent press release gives details of his life story and writings. The article pays tribute to the former “street Arab” (his own words) who laid the foundations of the British stainless steel industry, whose products are now used in every branch of modern technology.


The Cutlers' Company had also lent for exhibition examples of the first stainless steel knives ever made. There were also samples of wax moulds, several notebooks and copies of articles in Sheffield papers. There was even the Bullnose Morris radiator cover belonging to Dr. W.H. Hatfield, Harry Brearley's successor at the Brown-Firth Research Laboratories: probably the first car in the world to be trimmed in stainless steel.


I have a Sheffield-made sheath knife that has an engraved plate on its leather handle that reads “Harry Brearley from G.T. Antarctica 1911”. G.T. was Griffith Taylor, a New Zealander friend who was a geologist on Scott's last expedition. I was told that Mr. Brearley had given the knife to G.T. before he went on the expedition. When I received the knife it looked neglected, with a little rust here and there, so I asked a cutler friend to clean it up. It came back polished, and the maker's name had been ground out. I obviously had not warned him of the care needed in treating potential antiques!


In 1939 Harry Brearley, along with Leonard Hedley Burrows, first Bishop of Sheffield Diocese and Sir Robert Hadfield, was given the Freedom of Sheffield. I should like to print in full Harry Brearley's speech of acceptance of the honour (printed as Appendix A) because it gives me a tingle! If there is such a thing as a “Brearley” flavour, it is to be found in his remarkable affinity with ordinary workers in industry, whose skill and experience and help he never failed to acknowledge.

Auntie Wyn was an executor of Harry Brearley, along with J.W. Garton, Chairman of Brown Bayley's. Mrs Brearley's will of 1951 had as her executors Barclays Bank, John W. Garton and Winifred M. Beard. There is a codicil to Mrs. Brearley's will of 1953 that reads: (a) To my friend, Miss Winifred Beard, all my personal clothing, table linen, and my old oak rocking chair. (b) To my daughter-in-law, Mrs. Dorothy Brearley, of Avondale St., Hampton, Victoria, Australia, my Russian Ikon.



Auntie Wyn died on Christmas Eve 1978. When Judy and I were sorting her belongings, I was surprised to find two fur coats!! Now there's a thing!!

November 2011

When I wrote the piece about the sheath knife I thought that was the end of the story …. not quite! Anne has just posted a photo of the knife on the sheffieldhistory.co.uk forum and one of the administrators on there posted a link to this photo of Griffith Taylor, taken on the Scott Antarctic Expedition. The knife on his belt is surely the one that he returned to Harry on his return from Down Under.