South Yorkshire Times July 21, 1939

Tommy Todd’s Toe

Old Wombwell Legend Investigated

How A Corn Was “Cured”

Once upon a time a Wombwell man named Tommy Todd, who lived at 17, Orchard Street, was troubled with a painful corn. One day he was working on a farm and, rearing a ladder against a stack, accidentally dropped the ladder on his foot. As luck would have it, it fell on his pet corn and made him dance for a moment. Tommy was a “tough guy,” and decided that he and corn must part. It had never done him any good anyway. So going home with a firm resolve Tommy borrowed a wood chisel, made a block of wood for his foot, went into the cellar, put his foot on the block, and cut the toe off!

Do you believe it? This story has been told as a legend in Wombwell for many years past, but few have realised that it is founded on actual fact. Tommy did cut his toe off; not with a razor as is so often said, but with a wood chisel.

For the sake of posterity a “Times” reporter investigated the story. He has spoken to a person who was present when the “operation” was performed, and to another who was in the Railway Inn at Wombwell when “Tommy” walked in with the toe in his hand. Moreover, he has actually seen the coal hammer which Tommy used for the amputation.

Daughter Living.

The story has evolved through notes written in our Wombwell news column.

Comment arose out of the fact that Maynard Terrace, Station Road, Wombwell, is still known as “Tommy Todd’s,’ and because the district is still known for the lovely roses grown where Tommy Todd had his garden. Tommy was not a sort of “hermit” living alone as some people have said. He had a wife and family, and one of his daughters, Mrs. Florence Ann Hague, still lives in Gower Street, Wombwell. Another daughter, Mrs. Annie Brown, who is in her 80th year, lives at Royston, near Barnsley and another, Mrs. Levina Jackson (75), at Bradford. All three are widows.

Here is the story as Mrs. Hague told it. “This happened thirty-nine years ago. My father lived in Orchard Street and worked for a farmer named William Booth at Tyas Hill. He had been troubled for a long time with a corn on the toe next to the little one, and one day, while rearing a ladder against a stack, accidentally dropped the ladder on it. On getting home he said to my mother and to my brother (little Georgie Todd, a cripple, who died 31 years ago),    I shall not be troubled with this much longer. There ‘My mother said ‘Don’t be so soft,’ thinking he was joking. My father replied, ‘You will see’.”

Borrowed A Chisel.

“The next day he came home about four o’clock in the afternoon, went to Cernes’ chemist shop and asked, ‘Can you give me anything to heal a wound?’ I think Mr. Cernes will remember it. Not knowing what he was going to do, Mr. Cernes gave him some ointment. He then went to the home of his friend, Bob Hoyland, a few doors away, to ask how he was. Bob Hoyland was a joiner and was very poorly at the time.                He asked Mr. Hoyland for a wood chisel, and when Mr. Hoyland enquired what he wanted it for, he replied, ‘I have a corn which is giving me ‘Poll Thompson.’ I am having it off.’ He came home with a wood chisel which had never been used. Coming into the house he patted me on the shoulder and said, ‘Come on, you are my nurse.’ My mother said ‘He has got some idea into his head again,’ and at that my father went into the cellar, saying, ‘When I shout bring me a bucket of cold water.’ A few moments later I thought I would go to see what he was doing and, tip-toeing down the

He came home with a wood chisel which had never been used. Coming into the house he patted me on the shoulder and said, ‘Come on, you are my nurse.’ My mother said ‘He has got some idea into his head again,’ and at that my father went into the cellar, saying, ‘When I shout bring me a bucket of cold water.’ A few moments later I thought I would go to see what he was doing and, tip-toeing down the cellar steps, I heard him shout, ‘Bring that bucket of water.’ He had done it!”           .

“When I went into the cellar I found that my father had made a block out of a piece of tree trunk from the garden. Into the block of wood he had knocked nails to keep his toes apart for the ‘operation.’ I can see him now putting the ointment on the bandage. He then dried the wood chisel, cleaned it up and returned it to Mr. Hoyland. A few days later Bob Hoyland died, and my father, walking with a stick, went to his funeral. Within a fortnight his foot was better.”

“Cured” His Corn.

Mrs. Hague said her father was never troubled with the corn again, but he got a lot of fun out of it. For a year at least he carried the digit about in pocket and never had to pay for his drinks while he had it with him. Many times they tried to get it out of his pocket to throw it on the fire, but he would never let them. When eventually he lost it he blamed them for it. “But,” said Mrs. Hague, “We were quite innocent.” In the Railway Inn he used to throw the toe on the table and say, “It will be ready for thrashing soon.” It was the talk of Wombwell at the time.

Mrs. Hague said that at that time they had an Irishman lodging with them. He was so scared at the “operation” that he ran out of the house. When he came home late at night he said “Has the landlord gone to bed?” A few days later he left, and they never saw him again.

Another who can testify to the truth of the story is Mr. Samuel Moores, of 12. York Street, well known as Wombwell’s “champion ticket seller for the hospitals.” Mr. Moores told our investigator that he was in the Railway Inn when Tommy Todd walked in after the “operation” to show the company his toe. “We were staggered,” said Mr. Moores. “We had heard him talk about it, but never thought he would do it. My first words were, ‘What has ter done that for thar foo-il.’Tommy just smiled and said, ‘That’ll never trouble me again.’ He showed them his foot and they told him to go home and get something on it.”

So that’s the story of “Tommy Todd and his toe”—true in fact and detail. Mrs. Hague had some evidence to produce. “I have the hammer in the cellar that he did it with,” she said. At our reporter’s request she produced it, a heavy and obviously very ancient coal weapon.  She said it was not more than nine years since she burned the block on which her father put his foot. At that time it still had the nails in it.