Nowadays, domestic light and heating are controlled by the flick of a switch but when I was a boy, it was a bit more involved.
Lighting in the home was provided by gas via a mantle which was lit with a match or taper and, similarly, street lights were also gas lit. Oil lamps, candles and hurricane lamps were extensively used, especially in air raid shelters during the war. All of these lights gave a soft, warm glow. Heating left much to be desired. It was fuelled by coal, coke and logs, burning in the fireplace, which also heated the oven for cooking. Paraffin heaters, stoves, earthenware hot water bottles (or a warmed house brick wrapped in cloth) kept us warm at bedtime and we also used a great coat thrown over the bed clothes for good measure.
All fuel could be delivered to the door if the quantity was right. Our coalman, whose business was ‘Arnolds’ lived in Tuckers Lane, Hamworthy and we used him when we could afford to buy a hundred weight but, generally, a quarter hundred weight of coal was the most my mother could stretch to. In this case, I would fetch it from ‘Woods’ or ‘Burdens’ (as they were situated nearer to our home) using our old pram or a cart, or by laying the sack of coal across my sister’s bike frame. Once, when we did have an ‘Arnolds’ delivery, the coalman’s task was to put the coal in a cupboard under the stairs. However, coming through the hall he dropped his load and it went straight through the floorboards – no lino or carpet in our house – and my father was NOT very happy about that!
To fetch our other fuel – coke from the gasworks – wasn’t so straightforward. It was further to travel and we had to enter what was, at the time, a ‘dodgy’ area. At one time, Hamworthy and Poole were a bit tribal, very ‘us and them’ and we from ‘Ham’ felt a little vulnerable when entering the east end of the quay, near the lifeboat station and the gasworks. My mate and I, pushing our old cart along the quay, were suddenly surrounded by some boys, about our age, carrying a length of rope. They decided we weren’t from their side of town and threatened to tie us to a lamppost outside the old lifeboat station. We were bewildered and scared, so to try and frighten them I said “My dad’s a policeman.” But it had little effect as my friend said ”So is mine.” A bit too much exaggeration! However, to our relief, they scarpered when a kind adult came to our rescue. We quickly loaded up our coke from the gasworks and hurried home, plus a length of rope as a bonus!
To boost our fuel stock, my mum and her neighbour would walk with bags along the railway line at Lower Hamworthy, picking up pieces of coal fallen from wagons as they were shunted. Also, drift wood gathered from ‘Ham’ shore was a good extra source, with my dad and I using a two handled cross-cut saw to reduce the large pieces.
The next time we stand warming our backs by a modern fire or radiator, let’s think of the progress made since we all relied on using fossil fuel the hard way, and count our blessings!
P.S. Are you one of the boys who wanted to tie me to a lamppost all those years ago?
