Based on childhood recollections
of shops in Edmonton, north London in Edwardian times.

Window display of coloured liquid in large glass jars, typifying British chemist shops / pharmacies in the first half of the 20th century. Photographed
in Milton Keynes Museum.
Chemist shops / pharmacists were always distinctive when I was a child in
the early 1900s because their windows would display large glass bottles of coloured
liquid, one green and the other red. These were for decorative purposes only
and were not, as far as I know, medicines. I suppose that they were supposed
to indicate that the pharmacist concerned was well-trained because he was able
to mix his own medicines rather than just selling pre-packed concoctions.
The 1911 census shows that my mother's memory was absolutely
right: Charles Herschel Chipchase, 55, a retail chemist, born in Stepney,
lived at 75 Silver Street with his wife Emma Chipchase, 54, born Hackney.
Their shorthand typist daughters, Muriel Irene, 24, born Bow, and Constance
Winifred, 4, born Tottenham, lived with them. Pat
Cryer
Our local local chemist for where I lived on the
Huxley Estate in
Edmonton was a Mr Chipchase whose shop was
at the corner of Warwick Road and Silver Street.
He was a very refined person. To be in the pharmacy business you had to have
qualifications, which meant that your parents had money, so he was looked upon
as only a step below a doctor and was respected as such. In fact he served as
an unpaid doctor and our mothers would ask his advice before calling in the
doctor who would always did charge.
Cliff Raven reports that this chemist shop is now (2009)
Alan's Pet and Seed Shop. There is a bricked-up side elevation window in
Warwick Road which, according to Alan, was where the chemist dispensed prescriptive
medicines out of hours.
One thing I remember about the chemist was that he gave us children what
he called an Oracle which was no doubt issued as a publicity stunt by some manufacturer.
We had to light a match, blow it out and while it was still warm, touch it on
the sheet of paper that was the Oracle. This would slowly burn out out a picture.
Old fashioned remedies and cures
The chemist did a roaring trade:



Some of the Victorian / Edwardian remedies and cures mentioned on this page. Photographed
in Nidderdale Museum.
- There was a demand for Venos cough cure, Owbridges lung tonic and cherry
lincture, particularly in the winter, the season of coughs and colds.
- For chilblains, there was Melrose, a cream with a very strong smell.
- To clear a blocked up nose, Camphor oil (also known as camphorated oil)
was rubbed onto our chests. Sometimes it was put onto a piece of flannel
which was placed onto our chests.
- For sore throats most people gargled with salt water. We had to be careful
not to swallow it, though, as it could make people sick.
- Iodine was widely used as an antiseptic. When my father put this on
our cuts and bruises, he would say, "Shout", because he knew it would sting,
and shouting would release the tension.
- The cough sweets were rectangular linseed lozenges with their name imprinted
on them. There were also eucalyptus gums. Both were rather hot but very
pleasant.
- For chapped hands, glycerine, cold cream or Vaseline were used. Children
would often have scurf on their chins during winter, which I think was probably
because we always washed ourselves in
cold water and, as there was no toilet soap, we used houseful soap, like
Sunlight or Lifebuoy.
- When my parents wanted a laxative, they would take a dose of Glauber
salts, Epsom salts or Beecham Pills.
- In the Spring all the family would have have sulphur tablets which was
said to be good for our blood. It was certainly a laxative as well and the
smells that it caused were most offensive.
- We children would be given a dose of castor oil or syrup of figs once
a week for our tummies. These too were laxatives and we were given them
whether we needed them or not. For some reason, my mother always gave us
the castor oil on Saturday night bath night.
Then on would go our clean night clothes. To see the castor oil slowly making
its way down the bottle would make my tummy revolt and my mother would give
me a fixed look as much as to say, "Don't be sick". I have thought since,
how stupid it was to put clean clothes on before the dose of castor oil.