During the time that my dad was at sea I enjoyed a happy childhood “down the wall”. I would play merrily with the children in the streets. Lacking any form of sophisticated toys, our games were spontaneous and imaginative. Known as “Locket” by one and all from the nursery rhyme “Lucy Lockett”
Orchard Place was typical of the houses in that area. We sublet the front bedroom from Mr & Mrs Reid who had the rest of the house. It was quite common at that time to find more than one family sharing at the house, all rooms were used to the maximum, you were very posh indeed if you could afford to keep the front room for special occasions. Our room was a large oblong shape and you entered it on the far left through a door at the top of the steep flight of stairs. Immediately opposite was a double bed. A window centred the back wall and underneath this stood a chest of drawers. A cast-iron range dominated the right-hand wall. either side of which stood at bedchair. A table covered with a piece of oilcloth and four chairs stood in front of this (see appendix ). The iron range would be stoked well during the day to provide warmth and means to cook. At night it would be banked up with cinders and peelings, to be revived the next morning. Pots and pans would hang from the wall. The scullery which contained a larder, a big china sink and the copper boiler was situated downstairs off the back room. Hanging outside the back door would be the hip-sized tin bath, which would be used every Friday, to give us children a good scrub and a hair wash. We shared this and the outside toilet with the Reids.
After Mrs Reid died and Stan was born we took over the back bedroom upstairs as Jock moved his bedroom to the front room. Later as we grew bigger and needed more space we also took on the back living room. A long narrow passageway ran from the front door through to the back. The stairs went up to the right and the front room and living room were off to the left. The scullery adjoined the living room (see appendix).
Despite the crampiness of our living conditions, we were cosy and happy at Orchard Place. Pride of place in our room was a glass Punch Bowl that stood on top of a lace doily on the chest of drawers. Dad had brought this back from one of his visits to sea. I was playing one day in the room, while mum was down in the scullery doing the laundry, and had made a swing by tying a string from the bedpost to the chest of drawers. l sat on this makeshift swing and in my excitement pushed harder and harder. Suddenly the chest of drawers tilted forwards causing the swing to collapse and the Punch Bowl to fall. Fortunately, the main bowl and most of the glasses landed on the bed, but some glasses fell onto the floor and were broken. Terror-stricken I dashed under the bed as Mum raced up the stairs to find out what all the commotion was about. She tried to poke me out from under the bed with a broom. but l was transfixed in fear. Then she tried coaxing me out. saying she would not punish me if l came out – at this point I meekly crept out from under the bed, only to receive a firm smack on the bottom!
There was an outside toilet in the yard but as it was often too cold to make the long trek. chamber pots (known as pos) were stowed under the beds for nighttime emergencies. On many occasions when I had looked out of the window on hearing a row going on down the street, I would see the man of the house dash out slamming the front door after him. This would immediately be followed by the upstairs window opening and the contents of a chamber pot being thrown down upon his head!
The women went about their work, providing for their families. Monday was always washday and they would boil up their coppers full of water, using anything that they could lay their hands on to stoke up the fire. Using a rubbing board and wringer, with “blue wash” in the final rinse, they produced the whitest whites you could imagine. It was a full day’s work, but the lines of washing proudly blowing in the breeze was reward enough.
Each week they would only wash one sheet at a time from the bed, placing the clean one on the bottom, to help prevent the spread of fleas. The previous weeks bottom sheet became the top sheet, that was of course if you were lucky enough to have both top and bottom sheets.
Tuesday was ironing day, with the flat iron being warmed on the range. This was a mammoth task as the clothes and linen sheets would have to be pressed, wrinkle-free. There were no labour-saving fabrics at that time, no steam irons to help the harassed housewife. Despite their poverty, the people of Bow Creek generally kept their homes spotlessly clean. This was of course out of necessity as if you did not keep the house clean you would soon be overrun with rats, fleas and other nasty insects. It also helped stop the spread of disease. On cleaning days, the women sitting on the window ledges, leaning out cleaning the outsides of their windows would be a regular sight. Resplendent in their overalls and headscarves, they would call cheerily to each other and the kids as they undertook this dangerous task. Brass knockers gleamed and the ever-present white doorstep was a testament to their pride.
A housewife’s lot was not an easy one and it was made more difficult by the need to feed many hungry people, yet have very little money to do it with. They would make their own bread, pastries, suet dumplings and puddings as those were a good means of filling empty stomachs. Mum was always the one to go without when food was short. Often living on bread and lard, she made sure we children never went hungry. In fact, some of the other children would say “Mrs Taylor, can we have bread at your house, as your kids get jam on it ” This would be made after the fruit picking season and eked out throughout the year.
A weekend treat for us Taylor children would be when Mum would walk to Chrisp Street Market on a Saturday evening. Known as “Cristreet” by the locals lt was situated in Poplar, off the East India Dock Road. With only a few shillings in her purse, she would go for her weekend shopping at the market. She would time her arrival with the closing down of the stalls and be able to stretch her buying power to get vegetables, meat, bread and other perishable goods that would be wasted if not sold. A scrag end of mutton for thruppence, three ha’porths of potatoes and a ha‘porth of pot herbs would make it a nourishing meal.
She never forgot us children and always bought us each a toffee apple and a pound of broken biscuits, which would be our weekly treat. She would trudge back with her heavy load at about 10 pm and we would be waiting for her at the end of Leamouth Road, ready to help her carry the bags, excitedly anticipating our special treat.
A word at this point to the uninitiated. At that time you got 240 pennies for one pound, each penny was worth four farthings, two farthings making a halfpenny or ha’penny. Other coins included a thruppence (three pennies), a sixpence and a shilling, this being worth l2 pennies. There was also a florin (two shillings) and a hall crown (two shillings and sixpence). Potherbs incidentally were not a bunch of herbs such as parsley or sage. They were a selection of stewing vegetables such as parsnips. turnips, carrots, leeks etc.
I started school at the age of three and joined the nursery class in Bow Creek school. The school was made up of five classrooms, a hall and a little room used for woodwork and craft. The headmaster was Mr Hayward who ruled the school with a fist of iron. The classes were made up of children covering a two to three year age range. Class one being the nursery class for 3 – 5 years, class two was for 5 –7 years, class three was 7- 9 years, class four was 9 – I l years and class five ll – 14 years. All children left school at fourteen. The average number of children attending the school at any one time was around one hundred and twenty.
The day always started with a prayer and Mr Hayward would then call a “handkerchief parade”, where everyone had to show their hankies. People were very poor and it was a lucky soul who actually possessed a hanky. Some of the children had a piece of rag and before assembly, they would tear these into strips, so that everyone had a piece of rag to display during the parade. On the cry of “Handkerchiefs”, we would hold up our rags and wave them triumphantly
The lessons covered in school involved learning many things by heart. The repetitious reciting of tables and words etched them deeply into the minds of the children. In history we would hear about the glories of the Empire and nature lessons would involve trips to the park or the riverside. Writing was taught letter by letter and it was very important to have the tail of the p and q the exact length and that i‘s were dotted and t‘s were crossed perfectly. Physical education was a ritualistic affair with the children marching around the playground in a goosestep fashion, with a bit of arm swinging. We did not change our clothes for P.E.
We would all go home for lunch as the school was so close. If we were lucky we would get a “doorstep” of bread and jam. After lunch, the nursery class would have to lie down for an afternoon nap. When I first started school I had my dummy pinned to a piece of string and tucked down inside my jumper. As we laid down. I would draw this out for comfort and gnaw happily away at it making loud “yoy yoying” noises. The teachers were not happy with this and soon made me stop using it.
The standard of education was not great, despite having five teachers for 120 pupils. Truancy was very high with children being out of school to help in the home or to go out “jobbing”. Teachers were not too concerned about giving errant pupils a good hiding and received little respect from their charges. The prospects for school leavers were limited, most boys going to work at Baldwins or one of the factories. The main option for girls too was factory work – before they got married and had families of their own.
Children mostly played in the street. They would use the park which was provided by George Lansbury, the first commissioner of works when it was open. It contained three swings, a sandpit and a roundabout. The “parkee” was a Mrs Taylor (no relation) who was a bit of a dragon. She thought nothing of giving the kids a “clump round the ear “ole” if they were cheeky to her.
Their games included hopscotch – the grids being drawn from the chalk collected down the causeway. Tin Can Copper, which was a game of hide and seek. One person threw the can and all the other children had to run and hide. The person would then guard the can and try to catch anyone trying to get back to it. The winner was the first one to get back to the can without being caught or “had”. The victor would triumphantly cry “tin can copper”.
Kiss chase was another popular game. A cry would go up and the girls would dash off. followed in 20 seconds by the boys. If they were captured they had to give the boy a kiss. Funny how the older girls. who in previous games had shown the talents of Olympic sprinters, would in this game run with as much speed as a tortoise!! Kerb or wall was another favourite, with all children standing in the middle of the road when the caller would shout either “kerb” or “wall”. According to his choice, the other children would then dash to the appropriate side of the road. The last one to touch base was “out”.
“Knockdown ginger” was a game of dare that would irritate certain local inhabitants. Children would dare one another to knock on the door of a particularly grumpy neighbour and then try to escape, without being sighted. Gobs played with stones and hoops and tops were other popular playthings.
Having no money for toys the children were inventive. Boys would make cars using an old wheel with a piece of metal or wood shaped like a T, to act as a steering rod. My brother Giggy made a barrow from old wheels and scraps of wood scavenged locally. This was used in many of his “business activities” but he would be happy to sometimes give us girls and younger children rides in it.
Tip Cat was a game where a piece of wood was balanced on a stone like a see-saw and a pebble was placed on one end. The children would take it in turns to strike the other end and see how far they could catapult the pebble. The winner was the one who struck it the farthest distance. Glass knobs from bottle stoppers were often used as marbles. The stems being broken off and the fragmented ends are smoothed with emery paper. In season, conkers would be gathered and endless tournaments would he played.
Life at that time had an innocence that has been lost in today’s “electronic” age. Children had little, but through their inventiveness were always able to entertain themselves. Lack of traffic rendered the streets safe and we would play outside until dark, without fear, coming in only to eat and when it was finally time for bed.
In the summer we all used to go to the causeway and swim alongside the barges as the men replaced the rivets and life on the Thames went on as usual. The waters would be murky and muddy with all sorts of rubbish and rats swimming in them. but we never seemed to notice this.
Early one morning in 1928 Mum got up to rekindle the range and start breakfast for us children as normal. This day, however, she had a nasty surprise awaiting her as she went climbing downstairs. She was shocked to find water coming halfway up the stairs. She ran back upstairs and looked out of her bedroom window, as she opened the curtains she was aghast to see that the whole street was underwater, way past the level of the front doors.
There were some men in a boat who called out for her to wait inside until someone came to get us as it was not known if the river would rise anymore. Evidently, the level of the Thames had risen dramatically that night and flooded the whole of the low lying areas right into the City of London.
Mum called us and told us to get dressed. There was great excitement and I felt I was taking part in a real-life adventure. We all rushed to the window and looked at the once familiar street, now looking more like the Creek. We yelled out to their neighbours who were now also looking out of their windows.
After some time, just as the novelty of being shipwrecked in our own home was wearing off, a boat came to rescue us. It was a large rowboat and men came into the house wearing huge rubber overalls. They plucked us from the dry part of the stairs and carried us out to the boat where they rowed us to a point where the water level was no longer a problem. From there we were all taken into a church hall to dry off and get some food. We had to stay there until the waters fully receded and there was no threat of a repeat occurrence.
The mud residue that was left behind was thick and smelly and had left a nasty tide mark on all the walls. The floors were inches thick with the stuff. The great clean-up campaign had to begin. Fire trucks came and hosed out the worst of the mess and they also cleared the streets and the outsides of the buildings. Then everyone had to take everything out and wash down all the walls and ceilings and their furniture. The wallpaper and some furniture had been ruined and had to eventually be replaced. The government paid a small grant to all those people who had been affected by the floods and this helped to bring our household back to normal.
Down The Wall 