Chew’s that girl?
Kevin Maguire delves into the history of one of the North East’s best-loved icons
She may look as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth but Dainty Dinah, the delicate face of the once world renowned toffee brand, was based on a plucky teenager with true northern grit.
The image of a demure young woman in a bonnet and voluminous crinoline skirt was once as recognisable as the Milk
Tray man or the Cadbury Flake woman.
Dainty Dinah adorned tins of sweets and appeared on everything from tea cups and pots, to plates, blotters, calendars, colouring books and posters.
And author Glenda Young, who has drawn inspiration for her latest novel from the now demolished factory in County Durham where the toffees were made, said the real Dinah was a trailblazing rarity of her time.
Alice Scott, the woman on whom Dainty Dinah’s likeness was believed to be based, was born in 1899 and started work in 1915 as a chauffeur for the factory’s owner, George Horner. She even lied about her age to secure the job when only 16 years old in an era when few men, never mind young ladies without the vote, knew how to operate a car.
But entrepreneur Horner was no ordinary tycoon.
He had acquired a steampowered jam factory in Chester-le-Street in 1910 and soon converted it to produce toffee. The Dainty Dinah range first appeared in 1914. “You can imagine the interest in a woman driving the factory boss around,” says author Glenda. “Horner was a bit of an eccentric, a maverick. He knew people would take notice of him when he did.” Among other pioneering peculiarities, the plant also had a women’s football team, aptly named Dainty Dinah AFC. And it wasn’t only Horner’s chauffeur Alice who knew how to graft for a living. The factory work was gruelling and took its toll. “The women would spend all day wrapping toffees,” explains Glenda. “Their fingers would swell up and they would have to go home to put their hands in cold water.”
When male workers headed off to the fight in the First World War, the women also took over what had been considered men’s work, such as boiling the sugar in huge, scalding vats.”
And those eyecatching tins of sweets would turn out to be lifesavers for some troops fighting in the trenches.
“Yes, there are cases of toffee tins saving soldiers’ lives,” says Glenda.
“I’ve seen tins with holes in them where they had taken the bullet. Soldiers were thankful that they kept them in their pockets.”
The factory in Chester-leStreet was nicknamed “five acres of sweetness” and, in its heyday, employed 2,000 people.
Its 106ft chimney, which was built in the 1920s and imprinted with Dainty Dinah Toffee in white,
towered above the market town, as befitted the maker’s reach.
“GW Horner was a huge international company, and the toffee went all over the world,” says Glenda. Boss Horner also had a knack for marketing. “That massive chimney overlooked the train line up to Scotland and down to London. And a 4ft bust of Dainty Dinah was also displayed for everybody to see. “When they were making the toffee the smell used to spread all over the town. Kids would cycle up on their bikes and the girls working in the plant would chuck toffees out of the windows at them.
“It’s a bit of a corny thing to say but the factory has sweet memories for so many people who live in Chester-le-Street.” Horner died in 1947, with his son Kenneth taking over. Sadly, the plant closed in 1961 when it couldn’t compete with larger rivals and tastes moved away from toffee.
The site was finally bulldozed in 1985 and a Morrisons supermarket now stands in its place.
There the tale might have ended, until bestselling author Glenda used the story of Dainty Dinah to write her latest, meticulously researched novel.
Glenda, who left school at 15, was short-listed for a major crime award two years ago, alongside Richard Osman and Val McDermid. She wrote The Toffee Factory Girls as the first of a trilogy. In it, her protagonists start work at a toffee factory in 1915.
“The book is inspired by the men and women who worked in GW Horner’s place – thousands of them,” Glenda says.
She focuses on three women, two on the shopfloor and a third who is secretary to the boss. In real life, plucky Alice also later became the personal assistant to boss Horner. Anne works for the enigmatic owner Mr Jack and hides a heartbreaking secret.
Fun and feisty Elsie’s gadabout ways get her into trouble by falling for the wrong man in the sugar-boiling room.
And dependable Hetty expects to marry her boyfriend when he returns from the war, until her life changes dramatically and a new world opens up.
“There’s a bit of class conflict,” adds Glenda, laughing.
The story seems a fitting tribute to the women of the factory, none more so than Alice.
She died aged 102 in 2001, and such is her renown that many northern families over the years have claimed her as a relative.
But her legacy lives on just down the road. The bust of Dainty Dinah can still be seen in nearby Beamish open air museum, along with a Dainty Dinah tea room and sales of her traditional toffee.
It’s a nostalgic ending for one of Britain’s tastiest exports...