| There was no form of lighting in the house, just oil lamps and candles. Some of the bigger houses had gas lighting but no-one in Alsager had electricity yet. I remember those early winter afternoons, Mum would spread newspaper on the table and get the lamps ready, filling them with paraffin, trimming the wicks and very carefully polishing the lamp glasses. If the wick was not properly trimmed the lamp would smoke, and apart from the horrible smell it dirtied the inside of the glass. A new glass was sixpence so you had to be careful not to break it. They were, in any case, very fragile and often cracked just through the heat of the flame. Our lamps were very nice, one was brass and the other was pink glass. They would be worth a lot of money if I had them now! Cooking was all done on a black iron range in the living room. The fire in the middle heated the oven at one side, and in some cases, water in the hob at the other side. Ours was just a plain hob and did not contain water but we had an enormous iron kettle that used to stand on the hob or just off the fire so that we always had a supply of hot water. Immediately above the fire was a steel rack, the width of the range. Food and plates could be kept hot on this. Above the range itself was a high mantelpiece. This was really just a wooden shelf covered in green plush. The fashion was to have them very high. Mum could only just reach it as she was not very tall. On the mantelpiece were two pottery vases and a clock. The clock case was pottery to match the vases, pink roses and lots of gilding. Dad had won these at a sports event organised at one of the army camps. It must have been after the war was over while they were waiting to be demobbed. Dad was quite an athlete when he was a young man, he and his brother did some competitive running and cycling. As well as the clock and vases, there were two little brass tables and two brass boots made by Grandad Sands, and at the side of the fire hung a brass shoehorn, also made by him. The range seemed to have umpteen flues which had to be cleaned out at least once a week, and, of course, the whole thing had to be blackleaded and polished! This usually happened on a Friday morning and no matter what the weather there would be no fire. Mum had a little tin kettle that boiled quickly on a few sticks and this made tea and a mug full for Dad’s shaving water. Then, out came the ‘Zebo’ blacklead powder, flue brushes, polishing rags, brushes, long scraper, short scraper, bucket, shovel and emery paper. Mum would put on a large sacking apron and tie up her hair under a dust cap. Her hair was long and red, she normally wore it plaited and coiled into a bun, but on flue cleaning day she did not bother to plait it as she knew she would have to wash it after such a dirty job. I could watch from a distance but dare not go too close or I would have been covered in cindery soot, and having a bath was no simple matter in those days. When the flues had been thoroughly cleaned, Mum mixed the black lead with water, brushed it onto the range and allowed it to dry. It was then brushed off and the whole thing became an intense shiny black. The fire irons were next to be cleaned, a large ashpan stood in front of the fire to stop the cinders and hot coal from falling onto the hearth, a steel fender fitted around the hearth and lying tidily inside this were a long pair of tongs and a long poker. All these, including the ashpan, were made from steel and had to be rubbed with emery paper to make them shine. Last of all, the hearth had to be cleaned with what was called a ‘Donkey Stone’, this was rubbed onto the wet surface, smoothed with a damp cloth and it dried beautifully white. Next came the newspaper, dry sticks, and coal carefully placed, then shortly there would be a cheery fire. Coal was about one shilling and sixpence per bag, the best, known as ‘Holly Lane’ was dearer. We always had good food and a good fire. Meals were not fancy or luxurious, stews, rabbit pie, meat and potato pie, sometimes fish, and a small joint of meat on Sundays. Puddings were Rice, Sago or Suet in winter, while in Summertime they were stewed fresh fruit from the garden, sometimes made into a pie, or sometimes cornflour blancmange with a dollop of home made jam. Mum was a good cook, and, of course, all the cooking had to be done on the fire or in the oven at the side of the fire. On baking day the fire had to be just right, not too fierce or the food would be burnt before it was cooked, on the other hand if the oven was too slow, cakes and pastry were spoiled, but this seldom happened. ‘Washing day’ was indeed just what was meant! On Monday or Tuesday morning Dad lit the boiler fire before he went to work. As I have said, we had a separate wash house and in this were naturally all the implements required for doing the washing in those days. In one corner was a large copper vat, this was built into a brick structure, underneath was the fire hole with a door at the front. The copper was filled with water, then the fire was lit, and eventually you had enough hot water to start the wash, that is, if you had not been careless enough to let the fire go out. The wind was a great factor, on the one hand, it could be too strong and draw the fire too quickly, then the sticks and coal would be burnt away before you knew it , or there would be hardly any wind at all, or it would be blowing in the wrong direction and then the fire would be black and sulky so that by eleven o’clock the water was only lukewarm. However, given the right conditions, Mum would be ready to start after breakfast. She put on a clean sacking apron, with a rubber one on top, and clogs. The clogs were to keep her feet warm and dry, they were supposed to be the warmest footwear available. Sheets and towels were boiled first in ‘Persil’. There were only two soap powders that I can remember, ‘Persil’ and ‘Rinso’. Detergents had yet to be invented!. Dirty collars and cuffs on shirts had to be scrubbed with hard soap. ‘Sunlight’ and ‘Perfection’ were the two most popular. Everything had to be transferred from the boiler into a large Zinc tub, then attacked by what was called a ‘Dolly Peg’. This was a large round piece of wood about three inches thick, attached to this, underneath were four smooth rounded pieces of wood, each about six inches long. On top of all this was a long handle with a cross piece on top. The idea being that you twirl this monstrosity among the soapy washing in order to loosen the dirt! It had to be done very vigorously to be done properly and I have seen perspiration pouring down Mum’s face when she had been ‘dollying’ for a few minutes. Then, of course, everything had to be mangled. The mangle was a fearsome object. Two large wooden rollers mounted on an iron framework with a wooden tray and a small hole in the front. This caught and drained the surplus water into the tub standing beneath it. The wet washing was drawn through the rollers with the left hand while turning the wheel with the right.. This was reasonably easy with thin articles, but sheets and blankets were hard work, water sloshed all over the mangler, hence the rubber apron and clogs! You now had a pile of soapy washing which needed rinsing, and a tub of soapy water to return to the boiler. This was done with a ladle, a bit like a metal basin with a wooden handle. When the soapy water was back in the boiler the tub had to be filled with cold water, a bucket at a time. Even in the coldest weather it still had to be cold water. After rinsing and when the mangling process had been gone through again you could begin to peg some out on the line, weather permitting! Pillowcases, table cloths and Dad’s best white shirt had to be ‘blued’ and starched after rinsing. The ‘Dolly Blue’ was a small muslin bag of solidified powder with a little wooden peg in the middle, this was swished through the bowl of cold water and created the most beautiful blue colour. White articles were rinsed through this one at a time and it was supposed to keep them white. Next came a trip to the kitchen to make the starch. A small amount of starch powder was mixed with cold water, then the big iron kettle of hot water was added, the result was a bowl of gluey starch. Into this went tablecloths, pillowcases, best shirts and anything which required a smooth glossy finish after it had been ironed. Ah, the ironing! Before ironing could begin it was necessary to coax the fire into just the right temperature. Too much merry flame and the ironing would be covered in smoke, it had to be just glowing red. Two flat irons were put on the fire, when one was judged hot enough (holding it close to the face or spitting on it were the usual tests) it was taken off and put into an ‘ironing slipper’ this was a metal protector which was clipped onto the iron to prevent black marks from getting onto the washing, it was also smooth underneath and the irons themselves did tend to get a bit rough. A favourite occupation was making ‘iron holders’ even I liked doing them and I did not really like sewing. Given a few squares of waste material, I would happily sew them together then blanket stitch the edges with coloured wool or silks, even putting flowers on too when I was clever enough. It was all wasted effort, they only lasted a few times, quickly becoming burnt through contact with the hot iron handle. However, little girls continued to make them and when there was a ‘Sale Of Work’ at church there were always dozens of iron holders and kettle holders, some of them elaborately embroidered, and made in fancy materials, totally unsuited for contact with sooty irons and kettles. The ironing was done on the kitchen table, a large wooden one which was scrubbed every Friday after the blackleading. When the ironing was finished it was put on a clothesmaid in front of the fire to ‘air’. We did not have any carpets, the kitchen floor was black and red quarry tiles, washed most days on hands and knees. In front of the fire we had a ‘pegged rug’. This was a piece of hessian, usually a potato sack begged from the greengrocer (in our case, Grandad). After washing, this had strips of material pegged into it. Old trousers or skirts were very hard wearing, a bit of bright colour for the middle made it more interesting. The rugs lasted about as long as it took to make another so there was always a rug on the go. In the front room we had ‘Linoleum’ laid on a wooden floor, the rug in there was black wool, made from proper rug wool hooked into canvas. I suppose black was chosen because it did not show the dirt and was cheaper. The fireplace in the front room was modern by the standards of the day. It had what looked like a marble surround, with a low mantelpiece, I do not suppose it was really marble, probably some form of treated plaster but it looked nice. The fire in here was in an iron firebasket, in front of which was a brass ashpan. Round the hearth was a brass fender, this had lots of little curls, leaves and flowers in the brass, a terrible thing to clean, it was almost impossible to get the ‘Shinio’ out of all the intricate patterns. Inside the fender was a long brass poker with brass tongs to match, these were never used, a small steel poker and black iron tongs stood in the corner of the hearth, these were for use. Cleaning the brasses was another long job. In addition to the front room fire irons, there were Grandad’s brasses and the stair rods., these held the stair carpet in place and were also made from brass. The suite in the front room was a couch and two easy chairs upholstered in a material called ‘Leathercloth’. They were not really comfortable but they were not used very much as we only had a fire in the front room on occasional Sundays, Christmas, and when visitors came. Upstairs, Mum and Dad had a brass bedstead with a feather mattress, a dressing table and a small chest of drawers. The wash stand belonging to the suite was in the back bedroom together with my bed which was black iron and’ I thought, very ugly. We did not possess a wardrobe, there was a cubby hole on the landing with hooks on the wall, I suppose you could have called it a built in wardrobe, Spare clothes were hung in there and a tin trunk on the floor held spare bedding. The wash stand in my room had a marble top, (this really was marble), on it stood a large pottery basin and ewer, decorated with flowers, Steven has this now, I am glad, as so few things were kept. Candles were the only form of lighting upstairs, and on winter nights Mum would wrap the oven shelf in newspaper and put it in my bed for about half an hour. We also had two stone hot water bottles that Ginger Beer used to be sold in. These had been in the oven since early afternoon and after tea were put, one in each bed, when I went to bed, Mum carried the candle (in case I was careless and set fire to something). She would then remove the oven shelf and bottle and if there was any warmth left in them, put them in their bed. Winter always seemed to be icy, with lots of snow, and upstairs it was always particularly cold. As soon as I was in bed, Mum would blow out the candle, then I had to go to sleep, there was no looking at books in bed, but I did not feel deprived because I did not know anyone who was allowed to have a light on after they were in bed, and the darkness did not bother me. Opposite to us lived an elderly couple called Thompson. Mrs.Thompson was very fat and everyone called her ‘Fatty Thompson’. She was rather ferocious, or, at least I thought so but she seemed to accept her name quite calmly. Her husband was very quiet but she spoke for them both! Their grandson, Ivan, lived with them, his mother lived and worked in Blackpool and only came home at rare intervals. Ivan was the same age as me and I was the only child his Grandmother would allow him to play with. Possibly because I was a quiet little girl and would not cause him to become rough and get dirty! We did play happily together, I suppose we were both lonely for the company of other children. Ivan did not mind playing with dolls and I would be part of a train without complaining. We were both then about four and a half. I remember wearing a link of beads which Ivan wanted, I was persuaded to give them to him and he wore them constantly, even going to bed in them. He had a good home with his Grandparents as regards food and clothes, and maybe even love, but ‘fatty’ was so strict with him, he always had to be in bed by six o’clock even in the summer. School caused a lot of tears because his Gran insisted on him going to Lawton School which was about three times as far away as the local one. She tried very hard to persuade my Mum to let me go to Lawton with him, but very sensibly, she refused. Grandmother knitted several suits for Ivan to go to school in, short woolly trousers and a jumper to match, all in pastel colours, pink, pale blue, lemon and a white one for Sundays. She was so proud of the fact that he had a clean suit on every day. I’m sure that she loved him but had no idea when it came to bringing up a small boy. In later years I realised that the probable reason for sending him to Lawton School was that he was not known there, whereas in Alsager he was known to be illegitimate, and in those days people were very unkind especially in small villages. Happily, Ivan’s mother got married and he went to live with her, and when Mr.Thompson died, Gran also went to live with them and ended her days quite happily. |
