Back in 1900 chicken was a luxury item at 14 to 16p each, beef was a bargain at just a few pence per pound and leeks cost 1p a bunch. But then wages were low - a woman ironer earned 70p a week and a coachman the princely sum of £1.20p a week. Jim Appleby looks back at what Bradfordians bought in 1900 and how much it cost them.

AS THE NEW century dawned, Britain was at war.

This was not an unusual state of affairs. The struggle against Napoleon had marked the start of the 19th century, which went on to witness the Indian Mutiny, the Crimea, and campaigns against the Sikhs, the Afghans, the Chinese Taiping rebels, the Americans, the Sudanese, the Asantes of West Africa, the Zulus in Southern Africa and a few others.

So while entering the 20th century was a novel experience, being at war, this time against Dutch settlers in South Africa, wasn't.

The Boer War was a badly managed affair (so were the Crimean War, the Retreat from Kabul and a few other actions), but it was, like the others, a long way from home.

As 1900 arrived, it was pretty much business as usual on the home front.

Christmas and New Year celebrations could be quite jolly - if you had the money.

But in Bradford money was in short supply for most people. Pay was low for working people in the textile industry, with employers never hesitant to cut wages even further if profits sagged.

One Bradford laundry advertised in the Bradford Daily Telegraph for a woman ironer for a weekly wage of 14 shillings (70p).

A coachman was wanted for 24s (£1.20) a week.

A school caretaker was rather better paid - £2.28 a week; but there was no house provided.

Housing was rented - home ownership was undreamed of for the majority of Bradford's population.

A five-roomed establishment in Midland Road would have set you back 6/3d (31p) a week. A back-to-back in Wapping Road cost 2/8d (13p) a week, plus a tanner (2.5p) for gas.

For 37p you could have somewhere quite palatial at West Bowling, but the average price was around the 22p a week mark.

To furnish this, you could buy a complete bedroom suite in American walnut for £12.87 (on 'easy terms', meaning hire purchase. A three-piece suite for what was then called a parlour was yours for £7.87 from the West Riding Furniture Company, who would furnish an entire house for 30 guineas (£31.50), again on easy terms.

HP could also get you an upright piano for 14 guineas (14.70), or 43p a week - a bit beyond the poor lass wielding the iron in that laundry.

So there we are: you've rented a house, and furnished it from top to bottom - a total outlay, at the bottom end of the market, of around 99p a week. What do you put on the table at Christmas?

Here is the price list (in modern money) at Otley Market in 1900:

Turkeys 4-5p lb

Chickens 14-16p each

Beef 2.5-4p lb

Pork 3-4p lb

Pheasants 28p a brace

Partridges 19-20p a brace

Geese 5p lb

Pigeons 3-4p each

Hams 3.5-4p lb

Ducks 15p each

Rabbits 10-12p a couple

Hares 25p each

Potatoes 3.5p a stone (14lb)

Cauliflower 1.5-2p each

Leeks 1p a bunch

Cabbages 0.5-1p each

Tomatoes (English hothouse) 5p lb

Apples 1.5p lb

As you can see, chicken was a luxury item while beef was the cheapest meat. So let's suppose you decided to splash out on chicken for Christmas dinner, you could have probably produced the one course for around five bob (25p) - but that wouldn't have left the poor lass in the laundry much for the rest of the week. Even the school caretaker would have had do some saving for Christmas - a tenth of his week's income would have gone on a single course. Pud, crackers and the trimmings would be extra. Not to mention drink.

Actually a lot of people were mentioning drink rather a lot in 1900, because beer could kill you. Not through over-indulgence, but through arsenic. A number of people across the north had succumbed to arsenic poisoning after ale had been brewed with contaminated sugar from Liverpool.

Bradford's brewers - Waller's, Spink's, Stocks', Bentley's and Holmes's at Bingley - all sprang into the advertising columns to announce that their products were guaranteed free of any impurities, and the only things they would give you were a hangover and a thin wallet.

This was not a problem for the better-off. Champagne to toast the New Year came at 90 shillings (4.50) a dozen bottles for the best stuff and £3.10p for a lesser cru. At the same time the Telegraph appealed on behalf of the Cinderella Fund, which promised it could feed a 'poor waif' for three-halfpence (slightly more than 0.6p).

And if this over-indulgence took its toll you would be in good company - provided you bought Phospherine - The Greatest of All Tonics.

This would, the makers claimed, cure neuralgia, sciatica, lumbago, gout, rheumatism, impaired vitality, debility, 'brain fag', weakness, nervous exhaustion, melancholia, impaired digestion etc. All this for as little as 6p a bottle.

It was vouched for by the Empress of Russia, the Queen of Romania, the King of Greece and any number of duchesses and princesses.

Beecham's Pills, on the other hand, had no royal sponsors. But they did cure bilious attacks, nervous disorders, indigestion in all its forms, wind and pain in the stomach, sick headache, giddiness and fullness and selling after meals (though with the price of food and the level of wages, fullness after meals wouldn't have been a major problem in these parts, on would think).

Beecham's were worth, said their makers, a guinea a box. That's £1.05 in modern parlance. They actually cost 6p - the same as Phospherine.

As the new century dawned, Britain was at war.

This was not an unusual state of affairs. The struggle against Napoleon had marked the start of the 19th century, which went on to witness the Indian Mutiny, the Crimea, and campaigns against the Sikhs, the Afghans, the Chinese Taiping rebels, the Americans, the Sudanese, the Asantes of West Africa, the Zulus in Southern Africa and a few others.

So while entering the 20th century was a novel experience, being at war, this time against Dutch settlers in South Africa, wasn't.

The Boer War was a badly managed affair (so were the Crimean War, the Retreat from Kabul and a few other actions), but it was, like the others, a long way from home.

As 1900 arrived, it was pretty much business as usual on the home front.

Christmas and New Year celebrations could be quite jolly - if you had the money.

But in Bradford money was in short supply for most people. Pay was low for working people in the textile industry, with employers never hesitant to cut wages even further if profits sagged.

One Bradford laundry advertised in the Bradford Daily Telegraph for a woman ironer for a weekly wage of 14 shillings (70p).

A coachman was wanted for 24s (£1.20) a week.

A school caretaker was rather better paid - £2.28 a week; but there was no house provided.

Housing was rented - home ownership was undreamed of for the majority of Bradford's population.

A five-roomed establishment in Midland Road would have set you back 6/3d (31p) a week. A back-to-back in Wapping Road cost 2/8d (13p) a week, plus a tanner (2.5p) for gas.

For 37p you could have somewhere quite palatial at West Bowling, but the average price was around the 22p a week mark.

To furnish this, you could buy a complete bedroom suite in American walnut for £12.87 (on 'easy terms', meaning hire purchase. A three-piece suite for what was then called a parlour was yours for £7.87 from the West Riding Furniture Company, who would furnish an entire house for 30 guineas (£31.50), again on easy terms.

HP could also get you an upright piano for 14 guineas (14.70), or 43p a week - a bit beyond the poor lass wielding the iron in that laundry.

So there we are: you've rented a house, and furnished it from top to bottom - a total outlay, at the bottom end of the market, of around 99p a week. What do you put on the table at Christmas?

Here is the price list (in modern money) at Otley Market in 1900:

Turkeys 4-5p lb

Chickens 14-16p each

Beef 2.5-4p lb

Pork 3-4p lb

Pheasants 28p a brace

Partridges 19-20p a brace

Geese 5p lb

Pigeons 3-4p each

Hams 3.5-4p lb

Ducks 15p each

Rabbits 10-12p a couple

Hares 25p each

Potatoes 3.5p a stone (14lb)

Cauliflower 1.5-2p each

Leeks 1p a bunch

Cabbages 0.5-1p each

Tomatoes (English hothouse) 5p lb

Apples 1.5p lb

As you can see, chicken was a luxury item while beef was the cheapest meat. So let's suppose you decided to splash out on chicken for Christmas dinner, you could have probably produced the one course for around five bob (25p) - but that wouldn't have left the poor lass in the laundry much for the rest of the week. Even the school caretaker would have had do some saving for Christmas - a tenth of his week's income would have gone on a single course. Pud, crackers and the trimmings would be extra. Not to mention drink.

Actually a lot of people were mentioning drink rather a lot in 1900, because beer could kill you. Not through over-indulgence, but through arsenic. A number of people across the north had succumbed to arsenic poisoning after ale had been brewed with contaminated sugar from Liverpool.

Bradford's brewers - Waller's, Spink's, Stocks', Bentley's and Holmes's at Bingley - all sprang into the advertising columns to announce that their products were guaranteed free of any impurities, and the only things they would give you were a hangover and a thin wallet.

This was not a problem for the better-off. Champagne to toast the New Year came at 90 shillings (4.50) a dozen bottles for the best stuff and £3.10p for a lesser cru. At the same time the Telegraph appealed on behalf of the Cinderella Fund, which promised it could feed a 'poor waif' for three-halfpence (slightly more than 0.6p).

And if this over-indulgence took its toll you would be in good company - provided you bought Phospherine - The Greatest of All Tonics.

This would, the makers claimed, cure neuralgia, sciatica, lumbago, gout, rheumatism, impaired vitality, debility, 'brain fag', weakness, nervous exhaustion, melancholia, impaired digestion etc. All this for as little as 6p a bottle.

It was vouched for by the Empress of Russia, the Queen of Romania, the King of Greece and any number of duchesses and princesses.

Beecham's Pills, on the other hand, had no royal sponsors. But they did cure bilious attacks, nervous disorders, indigestion in all its forms, wind and pain in the stomach, sick headache, giddiness and fullness and selling after meals (though with the price of food and the level of wages, fullness after meals wouldn't have been a major problem in these parts, on would think).

Beecham's were worth, said their makers, a guinea a box. That's £1.05 in modern parlance. They actually cost 6p - the same as Phospherine.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.