|
THE STREET SCENE |
The streets and roads were lit by gas light. It was a pleasant sight to watch the lamplighter with a long pole switching on the lights. How pleased everyone seemed, to welcome the postman, always a most friendly person. Here is a poem which some of us children learned at school.-
Hooray for the Postman who brings us the news
What a lot it must take to pay for his shoes
For he walks many miles each day of the week
And though he would like to
Must not stay to speak
Red stripes round his blue cap
And clothing to match it
If he lost any letters, oh' - wouldn't he catch it.
Some of the common visitors to our homes were tramps who travelled from the Shifnal Workhouse along the Holyhead Road to Wellington Workhouse. What terrible sights some of them were - rags for clothing, shoes stuffed with straw, a tin can hung from the waist. They would call for hot water to scald their tea. I never saw one who was violent despite their frightening appearance.
Corfield's Grocery Shop, 1918 with staff.
Mr Wm Corfield, G.Ward, Miss M. Price, Jessie Corfield, Miss Samson, W.R.Corfield (owner) G. Burdett, H. Corfield, F.Smout, H. Burdett.
(Oliver's Shoe Shop on the left is still trading in the same premises)
In the late afternoon, particularly on a Monday, one could hear the bleating of sheep, the mooing of cows or the occasional bellow of a bull, coming from along the Holyhead Road in the direction of Wellington. They were coming from the cattle market and were being driven along by 'drovers'for delivery to butchers and farmers in the local district. When I was a little older I earned a few coppers by helping to stop the cattle from straying down the side roads or into somebody's garden. It was a precarious sort of job.
An entertaining sight, though rather sad, was the beggars coming round with a hurdy gurdy, a musical box on wheels, which the operator manipulated by turning a handle. The music was pleasant and sometimes they had a monkey sitting on the organ and his antics added to the entertainment.
The marching of a group of men, 'Territorials' (soldiers) always fascinated us boys. How smart they looked, led by a Captain Allison and the bellowing sergeant was, strange as it may seem, a man with a very humped back.
One job which enabled the children to get some money was carrying dinners to men in the works in our own school dinner time break, 12 to 1.30 p.m. This was the method used. The potatoes etc were put into a basin with a saucer on top, then another saucer containing the pudding. This was then wrapped in a large red handkerchief or piece of cloth and then tied in a large knot for carrying. Both boys and girls did this little job, although sometimes a wife or mother would take the dinner. It was a common sight to see people standing outside the works, some with the dinner and basins in a basket, waiting for the hooters to blow, which signalled 'meal time'.
Molineaux Butchers Christmas Show December 13th 1913.
All the prize animals had been bought at Wellington Smithfield and slaughtered at the back of the shop, here in Market St.. Dewhurst Butchers now trade directly opposite this site.
J.Bailey, C.Duckett, Mrs Dallow, George Shepperd aged 12 (delivery boy), Mr Dallow
Gathering horse manure from off the roads and selling it to neighbours for their gardens was another way of earning money. This was sometimes gathered in a truck, an oblong box on two wheels and with two handles to pull it by. It was a general type of conveyance.
Gossip was common amongst the neighbours. It always has been and always will be, but some of it was not meant for children's ears which can be very large.
"Mrs. So and So is expecting, have you heard? Ah, its another coming. She's so many months gone. She's got everything ready though and he's been told to get ready any day to fetch the Midwife". Then a common sight to see someone running as fast as they could to fetch the Midwife. A woman with a big black kind of case would appear in due course and visit the home for several days. In time a baby was added to the family. Was it brought in the Black Bag? By the Midwife (a Mrs. Beddall)? Well, what about the gooseberry bush? No, it didn't add up to me as I got a little older and I helped in this type of thing by fetching the husband concerned from work, then away he would go on the mysterious errand.
At certain times, the glare from the Priorslee Furnace lit up the district. It only lasted a minute or so but it was like a hugh firework, a magnificent sight, particularly on a dark night.
Disused mine shafts were dotted around the district, a feature of Oakengates as a whole; some were bricked over in the shape of a beehive, just the right gradient for kids to run up and down. Others had bricks round them which could be easily climbed and it was a great temptation to try and look down the gaping hole. Throwing bricks and stones down them and waiting for the thump of the missile caused endless delight. Sometimes you could hear a smothered sort of splash as the stones hit the water many feet below. I'll throw myself down the pit" was a common threat used by local people. I only remember one man doing this.
I moved to Tommy Shop Row (official name being Jubilee Terrace) from Tibberton where we had lived for about 12 months, and by now my little world was expanding. I was nearly 7 years old, and we children, 2 sisters and myself, went to Board School at St. Georges, Then from there, at 7, I went to Ketley Bank School. Conditions in Tommy Shop Row were much the same as everywhere else, with neighbours failing out and drunkeness and a general air of 'keep out of the workhouse' whatever happened.
WALKING THE STREET
This was a common phrase heard in the Oakengates District. "The Street" in this case being Market Street. Other expressions, were "I'm going down the street" "See you in the street". But walking the street seemed to imply something dishonourable - something to be avoided. Whatever the elderly people of my early days had experienced I don't know, but daughters in particular were warned, don't you ever go walking the street. So that leaves me to write of what I have seen and know about it, others may tell a different story.
Saturday and Sunday nights seemed the main time when this walking occurred. After the closing of the shops on Saturday night quite a lot of teenagers would be left sauntering about, many of them would have been to the first house pictures. But Sunday night was the main night from 7 p.m. onwards the street began to fill up with youngsters. Many came from the Churches and Chapels -always the Mecca was the street. Now the attraction seemed to me wanting to get together to swap tales about their work, workmates, their bosses and general conditions of work. Also sport and of course "clicking" with some likely girl. In the days of which I write about 1919 onwards there was a Church and Chapel Football League. It created terrific rivalry amongst the lads. There was also partisanship amongst the supporters of the St. George's Dragons and Wellington Town (The Lilywhites). Then to heighten the interest was the formation of the Oakengates Town Football team, finding their own equipment, and if they had no field of their own to play on, well they played all Aways changing under some convenient hedge or someone's shed. I joined such a team, our headquarters being a Barber's Shop along Holyhead Road opposite Holy Trinity Church, and our President was Tom Hoof who was also our "Barber".
The actual walking the street was at a very slow pace from just under the bridge up to the top station then in reverse. Shop doors also got crowded with gossiping youths and girls. Some of the older youths wore bowler hats and wore spats over their boots. While the girls tried to show off their charms by being dressed in their very best clothes, which probably they had bought by paying so much a week.
Quite a few romances started in The Street. People who have been married many years have told me that they met in The Street. Here is one remarkable testimony of true love whose marriage lasted for 61 to 62 years, until the old man died at the age of 90. Many, many times has he related this story to me. It seemed to be his abiding treasure even up to the night before he met with a home accident from which he never recovered. As a young man, he worshipped at St. Georges Church. From there he would go down the street to meet his pals. This particular Sunday night it was raining heavily, so he and his mates took shelter under the bridge. Here some girls also were sheltering, they had come from the Chapel up the hill. They got into conversation, a little horseplay began and this certain young fellow snatched the hair ribbon out of the hair of one of the girls. Later, he found it in his pocket, hoping that should he meet the girl again he would have the pleasure of giving her back the ribbon. A few weeks later they met, they got talking and walking to her home at Ketley Bank. After a few years courtship they married. So from my brief experience of walking the street I did not see any of this as doing anything seriously wrong. Laughter, arguments, horseplay and at times romance. There was always a policeman nearby, nearly everyone knew him and respected him. That I'm sure taught us youths to respect each other. This habit of "Walking the Street" seemed to peter out just before the start of the last war.
Only motor cars crowd the street on Saturday and Sunday night now. Their owners, bright eyed and expectant having gone to see if they can "click" (with the jack pot) by enjoying a game of "Eyes Down" Clickety Click - House! They find it far more comfortable then "Walking the Street".