IN THE 1850s in Nottingham, a mystery woman baked the fluffiest cakes and pastries in town. Her secret?
Homemade baking powder.
A baking powder that would soon assist in kitchens from Africa to Australia and the Americas – and would be promoted by an image of a young woman which became an icon of the North-East.
A cleaned-up tin of Lingfords' baking powder with Lucy stepping across the stones - it looks as if a waterfall has been added to the Wear for extra dramatic effect
In the days before self-raising flour became popular, bakers needed the assistance of baking powder to make their cakes rise so they were fluffy and delicious.
In Nottingham, a young man called Joseph Lingford whispered to the old family friend how much he admired her cakes and she, in return, whispered back her secret recipe.
It was probably an alkali, like bicarbonate of soda, with an acid, such as cream of tartar, mixed with a drying agent, often cornflour. When moisture and heat are added, the acid and alkali react to produce tiny bubbles of carbon dioxide which makes the mixture fluffy.
Joseph Lingford, the founder of the baking powder empire
In 1861, armed with the secret recipe and an entrepreneurial dream, 32-year-old Joseph, a Quaker, set off from Nottingham to join his brother, Samuel, in Bishop Auckland, where he began to sell his baking powder at his brother's Fore Bondgate shop.
It was such a success that within a decade the business had outgrown the shop and moved production into Newgate Street.
Sales continued to rise as well as the cakes that were made with Lingford’s baking powder, and in 1888, Joseph opened a 'model factory' on Durham Street.
Lingfords were now selling across the globe, but to really stand out from competitors on the shop shelves they needed an image that was memorable and recognised by all – even the illiterate or non-English speaking customers.
Something to take the biscuit.
So someone in the company devised a clever visual pun: a young girl carrying ling, or heather, over the stepping stones of a ford.
An image that would literally make up a ling ford – a trademark that would be recognised by all.
Two men were despatched from Bishop Auckland up Weardale to make it happen.
They found some suitable stepping stones at Harperley then spotted 18-year-old Lucy Proud, who lived at Low Shipley Farm, near Wolsingham.
Lucy Proud around 1904 when she posed for Lingfords
With the permission of her father, Charles, and with her brother, William, as chaperone, they took Lucy to the old ford and photographed her in a red dress stepping across the stones while carrying a straw basket full of ling.
Lucy Proud steps across the River Wear at Harperley in 1904 during the photoshoot that was turned into the iconic image on Lingfords' baking powder tins
This was an image that would travel around the globe for the next 70 years.
Lucy’s iconic image not only came to represent the baking powder but also Lingfords’ reputation as a powerhouse of workers’ welfare.
Lucy's image on the cover of a Lingfords' recipe book
Motivated by his Quaker ideals of social responsibility, Joseph’s model factory was well-lit and clean, and all his 300 members of staff worked a 40-hour week – unheard of in a time where factory workers generally worked 48 to 60 hours per week.
There was a staff lunch room where workers were served free sandwiches and cocoa every day, and music was played during the working day. There were two weeks of paid holiday per year and dedicated sick leave. There was even a 'country camp' to encourage healthy recreation for staff, as well as a company tennis court and girls’ club.
Lingfords also provided family life insurance and pensions to ensure their staff were well looked after into old age.
But there is a paradox at the heart of Lingfords’ success story.
Lingfords' shop window in Bishop Auckland with Lucy's image on tins and posters
Whilst the iconic 'red dress stepping stone girl' packaging helped to fund the pioneering life insurance, free lunches and sick pay for hundreds of Bishop Auckland workers, the young girl in the red dress never saw a penny of it.
Lucy’s father had only granted permission for a sketch of her to be made, and was unaware that his daughter's likeness would soon be sold to bakers across the continent.
Lucy later revealed she had never received a copy of the picture, or even a free can of baking powder.
Lucy Proud's image ended up on all manner of Lingfords' items, including a pack of playing cards
Instead, she took the brave step for a rural young woman in the 1900s and attended Armstrong College, in Newcastle (now known as Newcastle University) where she studied scientific dairy farming, covering topics such as bacteriology and chemistry, advanced butter and cheese making, poultry keeping and farm bookkeeping.
She obviously excelled, because following her graduation she was immediately hired by the college as a dairy instructress which saw her travelling to teach these modern agricultural techniques to farmers all across the North-East.
In 1913 Lucy married farmer Charles Hood and the newly-weds settled onto a farm near Cockfield. True to her character, she took an active role in managing the intensive, day-to-day operations of the farm alongside her husband, turning it into a successful agricultural enterprise of her own.
While running the business she also raised their five children, four sons and a daughter.
Lucy Hood in the 1960s
In 1968, a journalist met the 82-year-old lady who had been the girl in the red dress and wrote: “Her complexion is still that of a young woman, and the beauty seen by those early photographers has not been lost in the intervening years. It has changed with maturity, but Lucy Proud was a lovely girl and Lucy Hood is a lovely old lady."
She died the following year.
A Lingfords' carnival float leaves the Durham Street factory before 1904 when Lucy's image became the face of the brand
Lingfords, which had prospered during the 20th Century by diversifying into Iodized Liver Salts and custard powder, Scotch cornflour powder, blancmange powder, ground rice and ice cream powder, was also nearing its end.
With self-raising flour dominating the market and grocery trends meaning dried powders were being replaced by fresh items, Kenneth Lingford, a fourth generation, announced in 1973 that the business would close that Christmas, with eight people to be made redundant. In its heyday Lingfords had employed 300.
It really was a product that went from Bishop Auckland around the world.
It is often said that behind every great man is an even greater woman. In Joseph Lingford’s case, there were two: the nameless Nottingham woman who gave him her secret recipe and Lucy Proud, who became the face that launched countless billions of cakes.
Kaitlyn Ashby, from Chilton, has just graduated in journalism from Sunderland University and has been doing work experience at The Northern Echo.
- Do you have any Lingfords’ memorabilia in your kitchen: any tins or recipe books or stories from the factory? Please email chris.lloyd@nne.co.uk if you do.