MANY people these days probably wouldn't know what a clay pipe is (or was); they probably think it is something in the ground for delivering water, or gas, or similar.

In fact, in the olden days, they were used for smoking. And they were made in Bolton.

Just before she recently went to live with her daughter in Kent, Mrs Pauline Ridyard, of Hunger Hill, sent me a cutting from the Evening News of February, 1933, which told of her grandfather, Merrick Birchall, who was retiring after a lifetime of making clay pipes. I was intrigued by it, and thought you might also like to read about Merrick Birchall.

The report said:

"It is the story of a century-old Bolton industry, the last remnants which were removed from an unpretentious workshop at Smithy Hill, Deane, yesterday. Now the building is shuttered up and nothing remains in the dim interior saving a few broken clay pipes.

Clay pipes! Today you see a man smoking one at a street corner and maybe think he can't afford a briar. But there was a time when almost every smoker used the democratic 'clay' and every public house had a liberal stock from which customers could help themselves.

Mr Merrick Birchall, who has closed the business started by his father a hundred years ago, once had a staff or more than 40 men and women engaged in making clay pipes at the shop in Smithy Hill.

His family had been in the clay moulding business over 400 years, and when his father brought the industry to Bolton in 1832 he opened a workshop at King-st., later moving to Moor-lane, and Milk-st. Mr Birchall transferred to the Smithy Hill premises 32 years ago.

When the business was in its most flourishing condition just before the war the staff at the workshops were turning out 720 gross of pipes a week. And because this output did not meet the demands of Mr Birchall's customers in various parts of Lancashire, he had to buy many thousands weekly from Rainford, the home of the industry.

Dublin, straw, trooper, football, acorn, buffalo, rope, bulldog and golf were a few of the variety of pipes made at Smithy Hill. Mr Birchall had hundreds of moulds. The other day he sold moulds that had cost him £600 to a scrap dealer for a few shillings. With the demand for clay pipes fallen almost to zero they had lost their value to the craftsman.

In the palmiest days, Mr Birchall thought nothing of taking out 100 gross of pipes in his horse and trap and selling them all within a day. He has had as many as 16 men solely engaged in making the small pipes used for the 'Aunt Sally' stalls and shooting galleries at fairs. He had many good customers abroad at one time, particularly the Kaffirs in South Africa.

About 30 years ago his services were in great demand as an adjudicator at pipe colouring contests. Prizes were awarded for the best 'coloured' clay, and smokers adopted many cunning measures to turn the bowls of their pipes a uniform black. At a Wigan competition of this kind a piano was the first prize and the total value of the awards came to £200.

The clay pipe industry started to slump at the beginning of the Great War. Licensees found they could attract customers without the inducement of pipes, and the continued growth of the cigarette habit was another blow. Since the war the demand for clays has dwindled more and more.

Today, when I saw Mr Birchall at Townfield Farm, Daisy Hill, where he has gone to live with his son and son-in-law (writes an Evening News reporter) he told me that although he had closed his workshop at Smithy Hill, he could never retire completely from the trade in which he had been bred and born.

'It's no use, I can't give it up altogether at my age,' he said. 'I have got a little workshop here and I shall be turning pipes out in another fortnight. You can't beat the old clay for a good smoke, but men are too proud to use them nowadays,' he concluded."

Well, whether you did or not, I found it an interesting story. Sadly, though, Merrick Birchall died the following year, so the Bolton connection to the clay pipe industry disappeared altogether. Mrs Ridyard was born only months before, so she never really knew her grandfather. She has kept this cutting over all the years, though, so at least she had something to remember him by.