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Lifestory Showcase - Greenshields
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Whenever I smell American oilcloth today, I can still recall the redolence of the interior padding of my pram. However, it was possible too that on some days there may even have been the distinct bouquet of wet nappies too, to add to the fragrance.
Archie Greenshields remembers some of his childhood days, which were spent in Chichester with his parents and seven brothers and sisters. They were quite a poor family, as many were in the 1920's/1930's, Archie's father being a woodman for the local timber merchants. Archie continues: -
Mum had six of her children by the beginning of the 1930's and as would be expected, prams were a feature in her household. How she managed to find room for what seemed to me in retrospect as being quite an unwieldy and large conveyance, I do not know. Even more of a mystery, however, was how it could be manoeuvred into such a tiny home, let alone how it was negotiated into the entrance and exit of the narrow court-way down which we lived.
The pram, which was used for me, was subsequently used by my brothers and sisters who followed me. Obviously it must have been replaced at some stage, due to the passage of time and Mum's growing family, and particularly when I describe it's other uses.
Being the eldest, I often had the task of taking the youngest for an outing into the fresh air, probably to give Mum a break or, more likely, a well-earned rest. This would have been a fairly common task for the eldest child in a family during this period, and one which today's teenagers might well scorn. Sometimes we were given sandwiches and cake and a bottle of lemonade, the latter being made from crystals bought from Mrs Holden's general shop in Tower Street on our route to the parks.
We were given our tea to eat in either the Priory Park or the Swinging Park, both of which had swings and seesaws. Of course we were given strict instructions on what we could or could not do, how to behave and who not to mix with, but more importantly what time to come home. It was easy enough to judge the time, when the clock that chimed the hours and quarters from the Bell Tower could be heard above all the street and traffic noises from most of the City.
Often our instructions were not adhered to the letter and we received a scolding, following the demand 'And where have you been?!!'
Summer time was ideal and seemed to last forever in our young days. Both parks mentioned were not too far from our home and within minutes you could be through their iron gates.
Almost immediately after you had entered Priory Park you passed a cork tree that was to the left of the path leading to the doors of The Guildhall. Around the base of this tree was a circular seat and we were told that the bark of the tree was used to make bottle corks, a fact that didn't interest me very much. My friends and I were more interested in the slope leading down from the high perimeter path that surrounded the park, forming part of the City's heritage as the Roman Wall.
I am pleased to see that the huge holm oak still stands proudly to the right of this slope and is probably still climbed, as the bravest and fittest of our group did more than half a century ago.
There was a huge army tank and an enormous gun on permanent display in the Swing Park, which was a great attraction to the boys, as was the Crimean cannon. I wonder whatever became of it after it disappeared from the mound in Priory Park where it had stood for so many years. I was told that the tank and gun had been used for scrap metal during the Second World War, but surely the same fate of that glorious captured cannon did not deserve that.
It was soon discovered that a great deal of fun could be had using the slope, which in my day seemed as high as a ski-ramp, just as high as the one used by Eddie the Eagle, a past Olympiad entrant, at least in our eyes.
By firstly removing the rightful occupant of the pram and placing him or her out of harm's way, each of us took turns in careering down the slope, shouting cries of warning to any luckless person that might have strayed into the path of the pram and passenger.
It was a time when the Greenshields' family had a fair share of playmates, all clamouring for a turn of the daredevil pram ride. I don't believe there was much harm done to the riders, but after more than one capsize at the bottom through mis-direction, damage to the pram must have occurred and we were banned from going there again.
It was normal for coal to be delivered by horse and cart, Mum purchasing it a sack at a time, according to what she could afford. During cold weather her meagre ration for the week might not last until the next delivery, so once again a job would be found for her eldest son.
Before attending school, I might be sent off to the railway goods-yard on the far side of the station to collect a couple of shilling's worth of coal in the family pram. I was instructed to ask for 'Good lumps, mind, not dust', and I often heard on my return that I had good value for my money. I believe that the kind hearted coal merchant's assistant who served me, probably gave me a good measure out of pure sympathy.
Once other neighbours heard that I did not seem to mind this chore, I was asked to collect coal or coke for them too, but I was restricted by the amount the pram could hold and how much I could push. It was often a terrific rush so as not to be late for school and it goes a long way towards offering an explanation as to the reason why I once fell asleep during a particular lesson, receiving the cane as punishment.
My reward for fetching the coal for neighbours was usually a penny, which I could spend as I wished on sweets or a comic. I did not have to tout for these tasks as the services were volunteered on my behalf by Mum, who was very persuasive if I showed signs of reluctance.
When any pram was written off, we boys were given the opportunity to wrench off the wheels, which were then used for 'trundling'. A piece of stick was rammed into an axle point with about 50/70 mm protruding. With another longer stick, the wheel was kept rolling and guided along pavements and roads by pressure on the stick protruding from the axle. To us this was much more fun than the wooden hoops the girls played with, or even the iron hoops that some boys owned.
The 'trundle' wheels were much more up-market if the composite rubber tyres were still intact before construction and use.
After my brothers and sisters grew out of the perambulatory stages of their lives, I cannot remember ever pushing a pram again until my first daughter was born. My wife and I purchased a new Marmet pram for her, which was a great improvement on the old models, but prams are certainly going out of fashion and are seldom used nowadays.
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