BBC Theme: Bricks

First posted 23 Nov 2013

I live* in Leeds, for those of you who don’t know it’s a city in the North of England which is home to approximately ¾ of a million people. Most of the houses that people live in, okay, lets call it a “large proportion” of the houses, are terraced red brick. A lot of which were built in the early 20th century. Perhaps I am over-exaggerating, but it’s certainly true in the area that I live in.

I am the proud owner of one of these red brick terraced houses.

Now. Let me tell you something about these houses. They have interesting bricks. They are made of some kind of magical material. It’s really tough stuff, probably a good thing as they need to resist the it’s-grim-up-north weather (this bit is for the southerners as it really isn’t so bad, but we don’t want to tell them so that they all move up here to the lovely north). These bricks are so remarkably tough that you have to by a special extra strong type of drill to make holes in them. I bought one so big that I can barely lift it. Well, I digress. I’m really interested in these super bricks and the houses.

I’ve always thought that these bricks are really strong and hard to drill. I think they are pretty sturdy, but I’ve also noticed that occasionally you hit a brick more formidably strong than the others. These are the ones that you need to avoid when mounting shelves, mirrors or pictures.

Back to the houses, they required a lot of bricks and mostly these bricks were made locally. So it is only logical that there were a lot of little brick makers dotted all over the city. Some of the bricks that came out of my fireplace along with a whole load of soot, approximately 100 years of soot, said Kirkstall on them. Kirkstall is the parish to the north of Burley, where I live. It turns out that the Kirkstall Brick Company operated in the early 20th century at Wyther Lane, Kirkstall, Leeds, which matches up with the date that my house was built. Lovely stuff. But that’s about all I can find out about them on the internet.

In the early 20th Century when the mills and cloth making industries of Leeds were booming there was a lot of houses being built by the mill owners to house their workers. Perhaps one day I’ll write about the Mills and the cloth industry of Leeds, it’s quite interesting, especially the story of Titus Salt, and the interesting history of Kirkstall Mills.

In Leeds there are clusters of terraces that all have the same names, Autumn, Harold, Thornville, Norman, Ashville, Beechwood, Stanmore, Haddon, Kelsall and Hessel are among the more obscure names. With others such as the Royal Park’s, it’s easy to imagine how the names came about. These names are suffixed with things like Terrace, Grove, Place, View, Mount, Place, Street, Road and Avenue, and whilst the first part of this naming convention makes finding the rough location of an address easier, the fact that the second parts could be in any order makes locating the exact terrace difficult. Especially when they all look so alike. Even now I find myself on the incorrect street looking blankly at an unfamiliar front door wondering if I’ve slipped into a parallel universe, when in fact I have just ended up on a parallel terrace.

Unfortunately I couldn’t find out anything more about the naming convention, so if anyone knows the root of these names I would love to know a bit more about them. Perhaps co-operative building groups determined the names of the terraces?

The terraces were built for workers in the cloth and textile mills, but it seems that some of them were built by co-operatives in the years following 1872 Public Health Act which made sanitation a law. This act meant that all new buildings had to be attached to the sewer system (thank goodness), and led to lots of slum clearances in the following decades.

Since buying my house (with the help of my Mum and Dad and the lovely Nationwide Building Society) I’ve come to appreciate what it means to own your own home. There are parts which are brilliant, and parts which are not so brilliant. Obviously, actually owning a 4 storey high pile of bricks from the early 1900’s is quite amazing, and in fact under all the layers of wallpaper, lime plaster, soot and dust, the bricks themselves are actually in a pretty good condition. It’s the wallpaper, wood, lime plaster and dust that are the problem!

The absolute best thing about owning your own place is returning after a few days away. It’s just so good to be home. Even though there aren’t any carpets and the skirting boards need to be attached to the wall, and there are no window sills, there’s no door on the downstairs toilet and you have to avoid the wonky and creaky floorboards.

Whilst I am away from the place I almost forget how much I just absolutely love being in my home. My own bricks and mortar. It’s magical.

I’d estimate that I am well over half way through the renovation of my little house, and having thoroughly enjoyed it so far I am looking forward to getting the last few bits done. But these are the bits that I struggle with most. Finishing things hasn’t ever been easy for me. I’m a starter, not a finisher.

Taking on a house to renovate has been a roller-coaster, although I’ve only been reduced to tears once, I have had a small number of feet stamping tantrums. Mostly these are to do with plumbing, it’s just so confusing! I have learnt so much, and as much as I know this will probably make my mum and dad feel a bit sick, I’ll be taking these lessons with me to the next project house. But don’t panic, that’s not going to be for a few years yet.