Nice one Cyril! Baker’s advert song became
IWAS fascinated to see the advert for AG Witts and Sons (BT, May 17), the bakers based in Ashley Hill.
They described themselves as ‘wedding cake specialists,’ but by the time I worked for them in the very early 1970s, their blue and white lorries delivering Wonderloaf bread were a common sight on Bristol’s roads.
They certainly had an office building on Ashley Hill, but the bakery and garage were in Minto Road, St Werburghs.
Wonderloaf was a brand baked by independent companies all over Britain with common standards and national advertising.
In 1972, Peter Mayle, who later wrote the international best-selling book A Year in Provence, worked for Wonderloaf’s advertising agency and came up with an advert featuring a baker called Cyril, who proudly presented a loaf to the camera to the sound of a backing group singing: “Nice one Cyril, nice one son, nice one Cyril, let’s have another one.”
Any soccer fan from that era will know that Tottenham Hotspur supporters used the song to celebrate any good play by their player Cyril Knowles.
Biting the dust
Nigel Warr by email
RE Bristol Zoo (BT, May 24): When my children were in their teens, every one of them took up holiday jobs and put their hands to anything and everything, from hospital cleaning to builder’s labourer
to working inside a deep freeze unit in Avonmouth or at Bristol waterworks. I was very proud of all of them.
At one time in the 1970s, one of my sons was busy doing a number of jobs at Bristol Zoo. One day he was told to go and clean out the vulture’s cage. The vulture was apparently not happy with this intrusion and flew down from his perch and took a massive chunk out of the poor lad’s boot, fortunately just missing his foot inside.
A member of the zoo staff rushed
into the cage and rescued him before the attack could escalate further. Fortunately the lad was uninjured, but obviously quite shaken.
Sadly, when he arrived home and told his story, he did not get the immediate sympathy from his Dad that he expected. The response was: “The trouble is that you were so slow on the job that the vulture thought you were dead!”
Many apologies…
Tony Everett by email
Mother led the way
✒ I HAVE just come across the interesting article in the April 5 edition of Bristol Times, about the paint and varnish company Colthurst and Harding at Brislington.
The article refers to women not being involved in decorating – this being men’s work.
The article asks for anyone with memories of the firm to write in. My father, Frank Mayger, was one of the bosses, and had played football for Bristol South End before it became Bristol City.
My mother, Muriel Edwards, went there to work in the office. They became friends and, in spite of my father being in his sixties and my mother in her twenties, married in 1937. I was born in 1941.
Referring back to the article again about women and decorating; 1950 was still post-war austere Britain, there were still ration books until 1952.
This was before the enthusiastic DIY of the 1960s. Women made rugs out of twisted rags and clothes from old parachutes that had been
acquired for making clothing.
We lived in an old country cottage in Dundry Lane, so my mother, left to her own devices whilst my father was at work and I was at school, bought Colthurst and Harding paint to decorate the home.
Wooden cupboards were transformed with Darkaline High Stain, walls with Wallcharm, paintwork with Evenglo.
I well remember linoleum floors painted battleship grey with liquid lino floor paint.
She might well have been the ‘clever girl’ who painted her home and made it all gaiety and charm. So she was a good home-maker, and apart from decorating and all the normal women’s housekeeping tasks, she looked after the garden. Love that gooseberry jam that I remember.
She also climbed the apple trees in the orchard, picking apples to make delicious apple tarts.
The women of the forties and fifties opened the door a crack to today’s women, being involved in everything and anything that interests them.
Monica Spencer (nee Mayger)
Congresbury Editor’s reply: Huge thanks for this! To dispel any doubt, we were saying that the original advert was being incredibly patronising towards women.
In the 1940s and 50s, it does appear that Colthurst & Harding found they were onto something by aiming their adverts at women, as you can see from another example we have above.
Well, where are they? ✒
CAN the hot wells that gave Hotwells its name be seen anywhere?
P Collins by email
Editor’s reply: We go in mortal fear of questions like this as there are dozens, if not hundreds of people out there who probably have a better grasp of the technical and geological issues here.
So anything we say here should not be taken as gospel, and if anyone knows any better, we are very happy to be corrected …
As we understand it, the original spring which provided the water for the Hot Wells was lost, possibly as a result of widening of the Avon in Victorian times. A new pump, which does not seem to have tapped into the original spring, was set up in the 1870s but sealed off before WW1 as the waters were found to be polluted.
The nearest you can get to the ‘wells’ anymore might be the disused drinking fountain on the Portway. This is barely visible, so you have to look carefully, and from the
pavement opposite. It’s a few hundred yards to the south of the little car park that’s often used by rock climbers.
This was the last public source of hot spring water in Bristol, situated about a mile from the more famous Hotwell Spa. The first recorded mention that we know of for this spring is from 1702, though locals must have known about it for a long time before that. It was briefly known as the ‘New Hotwell’ and was even used by John Wesley, though it was never as popular as the more easily accessible resort spa.
Bristol’s Corporation decided to tap the source for a fountain, which was installed in 1894 and rebranded the New Hotwell as ‘St Vincent’s Spring.’
We’re not sure when it fell into disuse, but it was probably around the time of the First World War. If it had not been in such a remote place (by Victorian standards) it might well have proved much more popular for its supposed therapeutic properties.
But as I say, we’re happy to hear from anyone who knows more!
Chocolate family tree
✒ ON the subject of Swann’s Chocolate delivery vans (BT Letters,
April 26, May 10): Somewhat belatedly, I checked on whether Reece Winstone had included a source acknowledgement list in his book, as many of the photographs he used were not from his own archive. He had and he listed a C.H. Wetton.
I think that it is reasonable to assume that C.H. Wetton was a relative of W.H. Wetton and the source of the two photographs of the W.H. Wetton & Sons delivery vans, their dates/locations and also the identity of the gentleman holding the horses reins as being Mr W.H.Wetton not Mr Weber.
This then makes you think that
there must still be, locally, descendants of the Swanns, Webers and Wettons who may be able to contribute to the story; certainly there are such names in the BT telephone directory.
Pete Withers
Stapleton Editor’s note: Regular readers may have been following attempts by ourselves, Mr Withers and other correspondents to unravel the complicated family tree of various local chocolate manufacturers.
So if you know any Swanns, Webers and/or Wettons whose forebears were in the business, please nag them to tell us more!