Flies in the Ham and Wasps in the Jam

What became of the wasps was never made clear. But, dead or alive, a reward of 6d was offered for every queen wasp delivered to the factory gate throughout the soft fruit season. And even now, all of these years later, it is possible to recall the boiling vats of sweet, sticky jam, the workforce, mainly of women, immune to the stings of those narrow waisted, black and yellow striped, social insects which swarmed overhead, and the urgency which accompanied a new delivery of raspberries or strawberries freshly picked from the fields.

a marmalade label 'signed' by George Hattatt

Acquired by George Hattatt in the early years of the twentieth century the Jam Factory, or to give it its proper title, The Hampshire Preserving Company Limited, had, by the end of the First World War when, as in the 1939 - 1945 War, it was considered a 'protected industry', become a huge success story exporting jam, marmalade, tinned fruit and vegetables all around the world.

a label for tinned raspberries

a label for tinned plums

a label for tinned carrots

And for the people of Romsey the factory was to become one of the largest employers in the town, its chimney stack a rival to the Abbey tower, its siren drowning the Abbey bells.

aerial view of the factory with chimney stack and yard at centre

And still to be heard is the vexation and annoyance at home at the 'downing of tools' of domestic staff, both indoor and outdoor, whose presence was summoned by the siren as additional labour was required with the arrival in the factory yard of some new consignment of fruit.

As a child there was always the thrill at a weekend, with machinery standing idle, of permission, crouched on a wooden tray, to ride the rollers which stretched, to young eyes of the time, into an endless distance, throughout the long packing sheds. Or, weekdays, to marvel as sealed tins shot along tight runs, gathering speed, paste and labels, before finally coming to rest, housed neatly in dozens, in cases ready for transport.

the original Tudor office building of the factory

the factory offices fronting the road - the gate to be seen on the right

Once older there would be the occasional visit through the outer offices, typewriters clattering in what were, in fact, rather fine Tudor buildings, into The Office where, from a huge oak desk, the wheels of industry would daily be set in motion.

But by the mid 1960s the fortunes were in decline. A change in eating habits - people no longer went home to bread and jam - outmoded machinery and a loss of profitability led to its closure. Today, were we to return to Romsey, there would be few left, we imagine, with memories of those wasp collecting days.

Here in Budapest, sole inheritors of a legend, we day after day rotate the date calendar which once, sitting on his desk at the heart of the factory, George Hattatt would turn, doubtless dreaming of his expanding empire.

George and Ethel Hattatt, pictured in 1939, and the original date calendar - now in Budapest

N.B. We are indebted to Chris Levy of 'Woodley net' for allowing us to use photographs in his possession in this post.