Genealogy Chat

Just thought (Im actually having to swallow here!) When we moved out to the suburbs, once a fortnight, my nan would come down from Bermondsey on the train and she would stop at Manzes on the way and they would fill up two big jam jars with liquor and wrap up a load of mash in newspaper. You could read the sports on the mash when you ate it! Bless her, can see her now walking down the hill with bloody great shopping bag holding all this luke warm stuff for us! By the way, PAT, many many thanks for emailing me that beautiful picture of Manzes pie and mash shop. Its absolutely lovely.

This Sunday Morning I woke up to the very sad news my Great Aunt had died she was over 95 years old. She used to be very proud to say she was born within the sound of Bow Bells, she was born in Southwark. I once remember her having an argument with a North Londoner who said my Aunt had a cheek to call herself a cockney, but my Aunt never did call herself a cockney, I think people are getting a bit confused with the two. Southwark would be much closer to the Bells than a lot of areas i.e. East London where people call themselves true cockney, don't think Bow Bells can be heard very far East. Pat x I wish I was in the mood to talk pie and mash, manzies and eels, maybe some other time I would love to join in Ladies X

Pat, so sorry to hear about auntie. We should all meet up one day and go to a Manzes, eh? Toast my dear mum and nan and your auntie with a glass of warm lemonade and use a spoon to eat our dinner, what do you reckon?

Tell me about it Heather!!! I'm posh down here in Sussex but I definately return to type 'up there'. If anyone talks to me I find my accent and the way of expressing myself changes back to my roots! Something about being able to take the girl out of London but not London out of the Girl :) What did it for my Ex was when the Dustmen brought the bins shoulder high out through the shop between the counter and the tables! My elder son (10 in 1996) wouldn't eat pie and mash but the shop owners (Croydon) were more than happy for him to eat Macdonalds, bought from across the road, with us....Thats what I see as the true Cockney spirit! :) Chris

Thank you Heather, I would drink the liquor on its own, as a toast to a great lady who I will miss more as time go by X Pat x

heather nan loved her jellied eels and stout lol not to forget her wrestling and horses on a saturday afternoon susie

Yes Pat, its only when they have gone you realise just how fabulous they were. Lost my mum 17 years ago and not a day goes by, well, not a minute actually, when I dont hear her talking in my head, with her good old cockney advice. How I wish I had made the most of her when whe was here and I lost her much too early. I particularly smile when I am out driving. I am quite a nervous driver, mum was full of confidence. I remember going round a round about near Liverpool Street station it must have been a dozen times because she wanted to be sure where to get off. I was getting dizzy, not to say embarrassed. But she brushed it off, as long as you have the petrol, it doesnt matter. I remember her talking in a foreign accent to a policeman who stopped us once as she turned right at a roundabout (!). He let her off. Then when she bumped a car as she parked "Thats what bumpers are for". And all the parking fines! "Its worth it for the convenience" What a girl. So, you youngsters who have a mum who drives you mad at the moment, think on ................

Susie I was given a 'tot' of Mackason by my Grandmother every Sunday (From the age of about 4!)......My Mum says that Nan thought it was full of iron and therefore would do me good! (And thats before the adverts) :) Chris

chris lol,my nan always said the same thing. hubby done some work in docklands and the old ladies there also drank stout,and swore like troopers lol hubby would come home gobsmacked.he didnt know that old ladies of 90 used the F word lol i hasten to add though,my nan never said that word,but she did swear like a trooper i loved her to bits though,and miss her terribly. when old lou beale was on eastenders,my mum used to say..theres our mother,,lol. and it was,she was just like her,not to look at though lol susie

Susie Did your Gran wear the wrap around pinnie? :) Chris

Ah Manzes, gateway to heaven. They all had their own recipes for the liquor. My favourite was the one in Chapel Market, with Walthamstow High Street a close second. I tried Kelly's in Bethnal Green Rd a last year sometime, nice but not quite right somehow, and the liquor was more brown than green. I bet they use dried parsley. The Cockney accent is dying I think, I remember my nan saying things like 'lorst' for lost and 'breed' for bread. The worst swear word was 'bleeding' and the worst name you could call someone was 'cow son'. Mind you we did live in up market Hoxton :-) dave

chris yep,she did lol with a pocket on the front lol it had everything but the kitchen sink in it. susie

Susie Bet it was a paisly pattern :) And you're right...It held everything!!!! LOL Chris

chris right again!!! lol my mum always said that nan looked undressed with her pinny,lol. susie

Susie I can't 'see' my Nan without seeing that pinny :) I just wish she would let me 'see' her now and let me know who her Mum was!!!!.. LOL Chris

David, thats not as bad as seeing americans eating it with a bottle of wine on a tablecloth! Hey, and they pronounced it "bleedin'". Yes my dad used to say "cow son" and mum would say, "Oh, Dick, not in front of the girls". The thing is they probably didnt make the liquor using the eel water - that what they did in Manzes, used the water they had cooked eels in. When my "nancy boy" son worked in London and lived in Surrey Quays, he used to say to me "the old ladies are really scarey - will you end up like that!" My dad used to come home from the docks every night, leather jerkin to stop his back being bruised by the sacks and scratched by the rats, string tied round his trousers, re ditto rats. And then he would have "sloosh down" at the kitchen sink, strip to the waist and wash. Even when we had a bathroom he would have his sloosh down at the kitchen sink!

I'm happy to be a 'Scary Old lady'. But only if I can die (happy) after a pie,mash and eels supper! :) Chris

Just remembered: Two years ago, I saved this from the rootsweb London mailing list. Hope it is of interest. Joy ..................................... Joy wrote: >My father was born in Tradescant Road, South Lambeth, London. I understand >that my grandmother could hear Bow Bells when he was born ... or so I was >told anyway. As Ken Boyce wrote, there was a lot of discussion of this topic on the list a few months back. As well as the URL he quoted, visit: http://www*.*steeljam*.*dircon*.*co*.*uk/cockney.htm This has a map showing the distance at which Bow Bells could be heard, from scientific research carried out in the early 90s. Much further north of the Thames than south--I don't pretend to understand why, but maybe there is a scientist on the list who can explain! However, the whole of Lambeth was within range. I was born in a little maternity clinic in Stoke Newington, at the furthest northern periphery of the bells' reach (well, if they had been in existence in 1950 it would have been), so just squeak in as a Cockney (Do what, guvnor? Knock it on the 'ead!). There was another site with detailed commentary on the survey and the map, but I haven't been able to find it. The chief imponderable is the difference background traffic noise makes. I *suspect* this is underestimated in the study. I remarked, during the earlier correspondence, that during my childhood in the late 50s/early 60s the Armistice Day cannon salute could be heard as far out as Palmers Green/Bowes Park, some 6-7 miles distant. It was Bow Bells that legendarily called Dick Whittington back, a similar distance. No chance now. There was fierce competition between London parishes over whose bells were the loudest/furthest-carrying, detailed in Peter Ackroyd's marvellous 'London: The Biography'.

Thats really interesting Joy, FANK Yer GEL.

Heather, well done to you, David calling us the Spawn of the Devil indeed. Us Bermondsey girls dont take that stick from no-one. Salt of the Earth, are us. By the way when you were staying with your son at Surrey Quays you forgot there was a Manzes in Deptford High St. I make you right about the one at Greenwich, I have only been in there once and would not go there again. Some people were even having Brown gravy on their pies. Yuk. Jean