The story of one house in Lausanne Road number 33 ............ the works "Jolly" in Brighton, October 1963

Dad and a Glenton's coach circa 1949

The story of one house in Lausanne Road over a century and a half, and of one family who lived there in the 1950s.*

I remember the first time I went to Brighton.

It will have been sometime in the autumn of 1963 and was what has become known as a “jolly” but was officially “the works outing” and amongst my Dad’s colleagues was simply a “Beano.”

Of course these dos weren’t exclusive to work places, many pubs, clubs and institutes would have their day out in the sun with just that right mix of beer, sand, sea and fish and chips.

For Glenton’s it was always the south coast while for Tudor Crisps in Peterlee where I worked briefly it was Whitby or Scarborough and for the countless pubs and factories here in Manchester it was Blackpool.

In many ways the destination didn’t matter, it was the journey which usually involved several pub stops along the way, a “slap up meal” before and after a walk along the front and more pubs and hotels.

Off on a "chara" early 20th century

Most of those on that Glenton’s do were from the garage although there were a few from the office at New Cross and I think a couple more from Saxton’s the estate agents who owned the coach company.

Unlike most our trip was not in the summer but mid October when the season was over and the coaches parked in the garage and the drivers taking a long well earned rest

Such trips have a long history stretching back to the charabanc which was a horse drawn vehicle used for sightseeing and works outings usually to the countryside or seaside. They were usually open topped and were common in Britain in the early 20th century.

In time the horse gave way to a motorised version which often had a detachable body so that when the summer season was over the vehicle could be used as a flat bed lorry.

Horse drawn "chara", late 19th century

They were not very comfortable and by the 1920s were being replaced by the coach. These might still have a canvas top but were far more comfortable.

And here there is another connection with Glenton’s because for years back in the 1930s a model of Dad's coach proudly sat in the office window at New Cross, and by degree by the 1950s made its way to the back of the office and finally came home to our house where I played with it for years.

It was a beautifully crafted model which in the untender care of a six year old slowly lost much of its finer detail until all that was left was the chassis and four wheels.

All of which is perhaps a lesson on what a five year old should be given as a toy.

As for that day in Brighton it passed well enough.  Dad I think had gone out of duty and perhaps to fill the numbers I was invited along with my friends Jimmy O’Donnell and John Cox.

For me it was a one off and while I have been on work nights out I have never repeated the “Jolly” and have yet to return to Brighton which has along ago reinvented itself, unlike Blackpool which continues to offer that mix of cheap fun by the sea enlivened by the procession of hen night groups.

All a long way from Brighton and that day out with Glenton’s but thinking about it perhaps not.

Pictures; charabancs from the early 20th century, from the Lloyd Collection.

*The story of one house in Lausanne Road,  http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/The%20story%20of%20one%20house%20in%20Lausanne%20Road

Charabancs and an older corrected story

Yesterday I had to admit I couldn’t unlock the story of a photograph. http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2012/02/day-photographer-took-picture-of.html


Sometime on a warm summers day a crowd had gathered around a charabanc and were captured by a photographer. I thought it must have been a local scene but had no luck in discovering the location, the people or the date. So I am indebted to fellow blogger pluralized who identified the street in Blackpool, the butcher Mr Carver and a possible date. All in all a pretty neat piece of detective work. The full details are there in the comments on yesterdays posting.

The charabanc was a horse drawn vehicle used for sightseeing and works outings usually to the countryside or seaside. They were usually open topped and were common in Britain in the early 20th century.

 In time the horse gave way to a motorised version which often had a detachable body so that when the summer season was over the vehicle could be used as a flat bed lorry.

They were not very comfortable and by the 1920s were being replaced by the coach. These might still have a canvas top but were far more comfortable.

I suppose the direct heirs of the charabanc are the works jollies or beanos and the touring coach holidays.

I have only been on one works outing which lived up to its reputation as a boozy affair with regular stops at pubs on the way to Brighton, followed by a fish and chip dinner, more pubs and the drive home. It had been organised by the chaps at my father’s garage and used one of the company coaches.

Dad worked for almost his entire career for a coach company called Glentons. Before and after the last war they specialised in inexpensive coach holidays across Britain and during the 1950s began tours of mainland Europe.

 He was one of the two drivers who did the “Continental runs," leaving on a Saturday morning and returning on a Friday night. I wrote about these in http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2011/11/swiss-and-italian-lakes-coach-tour-for.html


I cannot date the picture of Dad and the Glenton’s coach but it must be late 1930s or the immediate post-war years. With its open top it is a direct descendent of the old charabancs.

I have a fond memory of this coach because years later when the new fleet of coaches were being introduced a model of the old one came out of the showroom window and became a toy for most of my childhood.

Pictures; a horse drawn charabanc from the Lloyd collection, and Alan Simpson and a Glenton’s coach from the collection of Andrew Simpson

The day the photographer took the picture of the charabanc

Sometimes a photograph stubbornly refuses to give up its secrets. Now I know that to personalise the search for the identity of the people, the location and date is silly but that’s how it is.

It is a wonderful picture full of period detail. On what must have been a warmish day the community has turned out to be captured beside the vehicle. If I was better versed on early 20th century motor cars I might be able to be confident of the date, but I can’t. The clothes suggest the early years of that century but that is as far as it goes.
There is not even a guarantee that this is Chorlton, but given the collection it came from I think it might be. There was a Carver family living in Chorlton during the period and a Brierley who listed himself in the early 1900s as a tobacconist on Sandy Lane.

But this not Sandy Lane. Looking at the glass and iron canopy it should be Barlow Moor Road but I don’t even think that.

For a while I thought that the chap sitting next to the driver might be Charles Shaw whose garage dominated the stretch of shops from the tram terminus to High Lane, but this man looks too old.
So unless someone recognises the place, the people or makes out a good case for a date I reckon the picture hoards its secrets.

Well not entirely. It conveys that sense of public curiosity at what must still have been a bit of a novelty. Trips out in motorised charabancs like this were not a common occurrence and its appearance has drawn a crowd.
I have to say that those onboard seem a smug bunch, a few smile back at the camera but most are more than a little indifferent, and as for the man beside the driver, there is more than a little arrogance about him.

I don't think I am being unfair, especially when judged against the spectators. Here are a rich group of faces. At the back there is the woman beaming at the camera, matched by the dour face of the lady behind Mr Carver the Butcher. He on the other hand stares forthright at the photographer as does the chap next to him. And then there is the woman with the hat and what looks like an umbrella. Hers is an altogether different expression. She neither smiles nor scowls but just looks and there are many more just like her.

On a busy Saturday they have stopped to gaze back at the man behind the lens. For some it will be an opportunity to pose for others just a pause in whatever they were doing. Some haven’t even bothered to stop what they were doing. So behind the lady with the umbrella and the lady with the scarf, two of Mr Carver’s assistants carry on amongst the sides of meat hanging from the rail.

Picture; from the Lloyd collection