A shining example

Oxford University tutor Margaret Stacey, in her 1950 social survey Tradition and Change: A Study of Banbury, noted that the arrival of Northern Aluminium (as it was then called) in the 1930s hoisted the town, an archetypal representative of Middle England at the geographical heart of the nation, into the modern age.

Until the arrival of 'the Ally', as it was known, the few industries of what is sometimes known as Banburyshire were extraordinarily old-fashioned. For instance, there was the plush industry at Shutford, which in its heyday employed 1,000 people. It made a kind of velvet for grand upholstery, for the liveries of footmen, and for making top hats. When it finally closed for good in 1948, it left Shutford in such decay that as late as 1969 the village was pronounced as "up for sale" in the New York Times. Cottages could be bought for a few pounds.

Ms Stacey wrote in 1959: "Touching the cap or curtseying to the squire and his lady have passed out of custom within living memory," adding that old attitudes broke down in the face of change. Where, for example, Ms Stacey asked, would a Banbury townsman place a graduate metallurgist in the traditonal social pecking order?

But Banbury did not win the factory easily. The landowners of the 16-hectare site where the aluminium works now stand wanted £12,000; Northern Aluminium would pay no more than £10,000. Neither would budge, so impasse ensued until the difference was raised through public subscription.

The next problem was unforseen, too. At first sight, you might expect all that travelling about we do these days to be the aspect of modern life that would most astonish a time-traveller from the north Oxfordshire of 70 years ago, at any rate since the opening of the M40 extension in 1991. But after the aluminium factory opened in 1931 immigrants, which in those days meant incomers from other parts of Britain, notably south Wales and the north-east, flocked to Banbury in search of work.

John Rakestraw, safety engineer of 24 years standing at the present Sapa aluminium works, tells the tale of his father, Jack. "He came down from Oldham in about 1932, sleeping in hedgerows on the way. When he got to Banbury he went into some sort of cafe and asked whether there was any work anywhere in town. The cafe owner pointed him towards Northern Aluminium."

When the factory opened it employed 200 people, most of them wearing flat caps. Mr Rakestraw, who is also a representative of the GMB trade union, said: "Those were the days when if you were asked to work on Saturday you said: 'Yes, Sir. And thank you Sir'." Astonishingly, rates of pay in 1936 were 6d (old pence) an hour for women and 10d halfpenny for men.

Hardly surprising that by 1935 there was a strike, partly for a penny an hour more, partly for the right to form a trade union, and partly, ironically enough, for the right to smoke on the factory floor.

Mr Rakeshaw reckons the aluminium works spearheaded the industrial revival of Banbury. He reflected: "Of course I am sad to see the place close down. At its height in 1943-44 there were 5,000 people working here."

He hopes the memorial to the 41 workers killed in the Second World War can be kept. He said: "Closing the factory will tear the heart out of the town, but bulldozing the remembrance garden will break the hearts of war widows, their sons and daughters, and their former workmates. The war memorial - the centrepiece of the garden - is part of the factory and part of the town's history."

Banbury mayor Kieron Mallon hopes that other features of the factory can be kept as well. He said: "The gates and gatehouse to the site are the original structures, and whatever happens I would hope they can be made a feature of any new development."

The fact that it is a joint venture involving American multinational Alcoa and Swedish company Sapa Profiles that is now closing the Banbury plant is ironic. Northern Aluminium started life as a Canadian subsidiary of Alcoa, the company which pioneered the commercial production of aluminium in the first place. Northern then parted from Alcoa to become the Aluminium Company of Canada (Alcan) which dominated the Banbury works until 1996 when it sold up to British Aluminium after a worldwide review.

Mr Rakestraw remembered the Canadians with affection. He said: "After the early trouble and strikes they were then very good employers."

British Aluminium was in charge for four years until in 2000 the circle was closed when Alcoa, the parent company of the original Northern Aluminium, took over again.

In June 2007 Alcoa entered a joint venture with Sapa to make profiles - sections of aluminium used for, say, window frames and car finishings.

A spokesman for the company in Banbury, Anne-Marie McFadyen, said the plant would close for good next August. "We simply cannot compete at this downstream end of the market with producers in lower-cost countries worldwide."

Workers at Sapa Profiles - many of whom are today attending the final annual service to remember workers who died in the Second World War - have now started a consultation process designed to help them find new jobs.