Some thoughts about Leith and the early days. Your bonfire remarks struck a chord - we didn`t have a `Wingy` Robertson but we did have a `Fishy` Valentine or Ballantyne and he was always good for a few items for the `bonny`. We used to light ours in Burgess Street originally but later moved to the large cobbled area opposite to and just up from the `broo`. The same place as you did? (The `coppy bonfire was built and set alight on the `black grund` behind Jony Barries rag store)
The square in front of Lamb`s House was our general purpose playing area from `rounders` , French cricket - or at least a variation of it, all day `fitba` matches - we didn`t have a proper ball but made do with scrap clothing material tied up in a loose resemblance of a football. These games were great fun, they usually started sometime before lunch and carried on all day - players would come and go and quite often you`d play on both sides during the course of the day.
Living on the Shore, we naturally took a keen interest in fishing and apart from crabs, our catches usually consisted of eels, small `butter` eels to somewhat larger sea eels. The odd swan used to come around for a free feed.
Although I lived at No 48 (now a block of up-market flats but then a 4 storey block of tenements), I considered my territory to stretch to the Dock gates. I can remeber this as an enclosed area with a small gate for pedestrians to enter and leave and a larger much wider gate for vehicles to use. Just inside the gate sat a policeman, probably some sort of security - this being the 40s.
I remember too, the old Sailors` Home just outside the gates - my mother, during the war, used to handknit woollen socks which I would take down to the Sailors` Home and the manager would then sell them on to whoever wanted them. 5/- was the price per pair for my mother, and quite often I would buy some cigarettes for my mum - the Home always seemed to have `good` cigarettes as opposed to the Turf and Pasha and other exotic brands which appeared from time to time.
Just up from the Home was Tower Street that consisted mainly of warehouses. The large ice making plant was also in this street. There was a workers` canteen here where we children used to go during the school holidays for a lunch (a dinner?). The hall was large and the people sat at large trestle tables and we children always occupied the back table and for a small sum, 6d, we would have a hot meal and quite often more than one sweet or pudding.
There were a lot of pubs in the Shore from the Dock gates to Bernard Street. Must have been a lot of workers. Jackie Gillon had his barber shop on the corner. Jackie was a small man with a hunched back and he always stood on a stool to ply his business. He was also an accomplished billiards player who had representative honours.
On the other corner stood the pub Rutherfords commonly known as the `Bucket of Blood`. ( I think Ben means the King`s Wark, or colloquially known as the `The Jungle` where the ladies of the night procured their trade from visiting seamen. The Kings Wark is still in business but the ladies are no more about it). I remember my parents talking about this place and the fact that the police would not go into it alone. Also the stories that as the police entered one door the mob poured out the other. Ah those were the days!
Among the factories on the shore were Browns the ships engineers and R & D Slimons. We used to go into Browns for shelter during the air raid alerts. Sometimes it seemed every night when we would be woken up and carried in a blanket to Browns where we sheltered in their `bothy`.
While we always felt safe and secure there, it has occurred to me in later life that our `safe haven` was right in the middle of any potential arget area.
I remember too the end of the War when I woke up to the sound of sirens, church bells, horns and funnily enough, the bagpipes. I remember it was very dark but all the house lights seemed to be on and the blackout curtains wide open in celebration. People dancing and singing in the streets and plenty of the amber liquid seemed to be freely available.
Ben Fegan
Tasmania, 13th November 2001. (This letter printed with the consent of Ben)
Hi John,
With reference to your pot-pouris pages. In our tenement our neighbours never had door bells - certainly not of the brass plate you described. Maybe all our neighbours wished to remain anonymous! I do remember the communal stairs which had to be washed at least once a week - our landing and the flight of steps down to the second level. Woe betide your Mum if she was slow or had forgotten it was her turn. A little white board would be hung from a convenient projection on your front door advising that it was `your turn for the stair.`
In my early years it would appear that we didn`t use the chimney sweep much - the chimneys seemed to catch fire with monotonous regularity - a case of poverty induced spontaneous combustion?
Blocked seivers were always interesting along the Shore. Firstly, what caused the blockage? We had to find out, quite often we would remove the grating and then we`d all gather round and study the contents before clearing it. All seiver gratings could be removed (heavy cast iron and hinged) otherwise we stood the risk of losing our bools or marbles, and that would be a tragedy.
At Easter we would, like you, receive hard-boiled eggs with the shells painted sometimes. It always seemed such a waste of time to carry them all the way to Leith Links just to roll them down a hill, so we invariably ate them within minutes of receiving them, unless of course they had been decorated quite strikingly then we would hold on to them to make the other kids jealous.
I well remember the band of the Sally Ann who would assemble on a street corner and suddenly start blasting out their music, startling the locals and birdlife alike.
My uncle, on my father`s side, was a `bookie` who had a little cubby hole of a place behind Trinity House in the Kirkgate. It was always pretty well patronised especially at the week-ends. However, like the street corner runners, his office was pretty well deserted when it was his `turn` to be `lifted`.
Earlier you mentioned that you were a patient in Leith Hospital, so too was I. I must have been 9 or 10 when I was admitted suffering from pleurisy and double pneumonia - which meant a stay of some 4 to 5 months in darkened rooms, lumber punches and all sorts of weird and wonderful concoctions, but obviously they worked. Unlike you, I don`t remember any of the staff.
Did you never sneak down to the Eldorado on, I think , Monday nights to see the wrestling.? Names that come to mind are Black Butcher Johnston, Jackie Pallo, Mick McManus among others.
The Billiard room above the State, although I preferred the room above the Palace. Were all the billiard rooms or Saloons for the up market people built above cinemas?
Feel free to use any of this John, and I hope you can get more from other readers.
Will write again later.
Ben.
Tasmania, 26th November 2001.
Hi John,
Some other recollections. Do you remember the `Buckie Wife` who used to stand on the corner of Tolbooth Wynd and the bottom of the Kirkgate every Saturday afternoon, rain or shine? She`d be there with her buckies and mussels served up in little saucers topped with vinegar.
The `offal` butcher in the Kirkgate where I used to queue up every Saturday morning with the ashet that had contained a very filling steak pie from the previous week. Without an ashet the price was much dearer.
Then the Gaeity theatre. Once a year we used to attend there for the annual pantomime, this being organised by some charity. If I remember correctly, we would get a soft drink, some sweeties and, on the way out, a sticky bun of some sort.
The miners` picnics in Holyrood Park, maybe the Leith Links. (The miners` gala day that was held on the first Monday in May, May Day.) The miners and families from the different pits would attend with their highly coloured banners or flags,. The pipe and brass bands would all be in attendance. Music competitions, Highland Dancing and children`s races would all take place. None of my family were miners, so I suppose we just gate-crashed.
The girls down our way were into peevers, peevery beds or hopscotch. Any decent sized pavement usually had a chalked marked `bed`. One enterprising family which seemed to have more than a few girls used to put on backgreen concerts which were always worth a look.
The site certainly seems to be taking on a life of its own.
Regards,
Ben
