Made In Hull By Maurice Fairfield Part One - Arundel Street Days (2/2)

(1/2), (2/2). Part One - Arundel Street Days Part Two - Our Terrace Part Three - The Calm before, (The Storm) Part Four - Schooldays Part Five - The War 1 Part Six - The War 2

Some comedian had given them names like Ash Grove and Linden Grove. This in a place where even the dandelions found the going tough.. Some were named after noble ancient Romans. There were Nero Terrace and Cato Terrace and, I think, Portia Terrace. No Roman Emperors or philosophers lived in them but they sheltered a broad variety of mostly nice people. On the corners of some were small shops. Most of them sold mixed groceries and sweets though some were beer offs selling bottled beer, and draught beer pulled by pumps and carried home in jugs, on Sundays.

The grocers weighed up and sold small quantities of butter or cheese from big blocks, and jam from a big jar by the pennyworth - a wooden spoonful. Five silver Link caramels for a ha'penny, fancier sweets for twopence a quarter, even more fancy ones at fourpence going up to the luxury of buttered Brazil Nuts at sixpence. Cigarettes in packets of five. Or in odd ones if a packet was beyond your pocket, as it was for many. Cooling powders, a tiny amount of powdered asprin sold in a slip of paper to give to sick babies.

There was no refrigeration. In warm months there was always a fly paper, a heavily gummed strip which hung from the ceiling. The flies settled on it and stuck there black and hairy and buzzing mournfully as they died struggling. Most shops had enamelled iron signs outside. Now prized by antique collectors, they advertised Reckitts Blue, Sunlight Soap, Brasso, and others. One I remember made the grim promise, Rinso saves coal every wash-day.

Half way down on the right was Ellis Street. A short street leading to Craven Street which ran parallel to Arundel over the New Bridge -then about twenty five years old - and over to Hedon Road and the docks on the Eastern side of the River Hull. At intervals were archways leading to cobbled courtyards with stables, some of them turning into garages; workshops and small dairies. The stores of carpenters and plumbers.

At the other side of Newbridge Road was Sweet Dews Farm, a prettier name than it deserved at this time with its fields shrunk to a couple of acres and the old farm buildings sooty and out of place. You could still buy eggs there and a remnant of tradition clung to it. A group of showmen gathered there once a year for a fair. Stalls and roundabouts lit up the sky drawing the children and their pennies like a bright noisy magnet. Here for the only time I saw hopeful men try to struggle up a greasy pole to win prizes.

At secret irregular times a group of men went there with their greyhounds, and terriers. Rats caught alive in cage traps, were slaughtered and money won and lost on the speed of the dogs as they despatched rat after rat with swift economical nips.

I believe the name is commemorated by Sweet Dews Grove, part of an estate of nice new houses built to replace my old stamping ground now long levelled by the bulldozer and the wrecking ball. So passed Arundel Street, but we did a lot of living there first. More of that later. Copyright 2004 © Maurice Fairfield

Continued on www.thisisUll.com Part Two - Our Terrace

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