WANDERING around the other day, I happened to cross the railway onto the London Road, and found my way into Grimsley’s brick field which, as I expect everyone acquainted with Bicester knows, lies on the opposite side of the line.

Now I have seen brick fields before, but they never appeared worthy of special attention.

I have, before now, watched a mud-bespattered man, with an energy seemingly born of desperation, flop a lump of moist clay into a wooden mould, vigorously turning it over and over, beating it into shape, and then handing it to one of the barefooted youngsters who place the bricks out to dry and who themselves resembled animated bundles of clay.

I have always been disposed to look upon the manufacture of this article as a very necessary, but at the same time a very dirty and ill-paid calling.

But on this particular morning I strolled on into the yard, near the entrance of which a thick-set, respectable-looking man was chopping sticks, evidently for the purpose of starting the kiln fire.

I soon got into conversation with this individual, who proved most agreeable and entertaining.

From him I heard the whole process of brick making, and I must confess that if I thought it a dirty job before, I am now fully convinced that such is the case.

In the first place, clay is dug from the pit and carried to a mill, which has the appearance of a boiler without a top.

This is turned by a horse, which trudges wearily round and round, grinding up the clay, from morning till noon.

Of course in a large establishment this part of the work would be done by steam power, but at Bicester a horse is made to answer the purpose.

After the clay is properly ground, it is taken to the brickmakers, who manipulate it and pass it through a mould, handing it eventually to one of their assistants, who in turn take it out into the open air, and lay it on a row of small pipes to dry.

Each separate brick has to be placed carefully in rotation and in such a position as to get the greatest quantity of air.

In a very short time they been to harden – if the weather proves suitable.

After drying for two or three days, the bricks, being now firm and hard, are stacked in the kiln.

For three days the fires have to be slow, in order that the steam may escape from the bricks and this part of the work is very touchy, I should imagine.

If the fire is allowed to burn too fiercely at first, the bricks fly and crack in all directions and are consequently spoilt.

But after the steam has been driven out, the heat is made more intense – it is raised to such a degree, in fact, that the whole kiln is one mass of red heat.

The fires are then allowed to go out and in three days the bricks are cool enough to be taken out.

The first part of the work, the actual making of the bricks, was done by the piece, while the other attendant labour is mostly done by the day.

One man can make over 6,000 bricks in week. Earning him about 36s.

- from the Bicester Advertiser on May, 26, 1882