Hurst Street People – Joyce Sale

Joyce Sale was born in a back house in Irving Street Birmingham, during the Second World War, in an area which then was called The Horse Fair. Irving Street ran off Bristol Street and was named after the renowned American writer, historian and diplomat Washington Irvine, who spent some time writing in the City in the early 19th century. A short walk from Irving Street across Bristol Street, was Hurst Street, which Joyce has a long association, her maternal Grandparents John and Sarah Clarke also her Great Uncle, Frank Clarke lived in Hurst Street.

During her childhood, in the 40’s and 50’s, Joyce visited her Grandmother in Hurst Street frequently. Her Grandmother Sarah Anne was living in Sun Street at the time, but spending her days working in a small workshop on the top floor of a dilapidated old building. She operated a hand press, where she produced brass foot scrapers. Joyce recalls the entrance to the workshop was located where the Weatherspoon’s pub ,The Dragon Inn is situated in Hurst Street. Down a dark entry which opened into a large court yard occupied by an variety of back houses, privies, a brew house and small workshops. Joyce goes on to describe climbing an old rickety wooden staircase to finally reach her Gran’s work place at the very top of the building. She remembers on entering, her Gran was always sitting with her back to her, and would never turn around to greet her, preferring to continue to operate her press, even as she chatted to the young Joyce.

Position the brass workpiece in the press, pull the handle, press the foot pedal, eject the finished component, throwing it into a nearby bin, all of these tasks performed at a bewildering speed. The process may be repeated hundreds of times during her working day. This monotonous work could quite possibly carried out blindfolded! Gran would be on “piece work” where she had a quota to meet and was only paid for what she produced, consequently to earn a living wage she would work eight to ten hours a day, performing this mind numbing task to enable the mud to be scraped from the sole of a shoe!

Joyce still lives in Birmingham, and is an ardent and enthusiastic charity worker and fundraiser. Sponsored by various charities, Joyce has cycled across India and trekked over the Great Wall of China . She gives entertaining talks recalling her fund raising escapades, also recounting humorous stories of her father, who was a Birmingham barrow boy

To continue her association with Hurst Street, Joyce is currently a Tour Guide at the Birmingham Back to Backs Museum run by the National Trust, in Hurst Street. Enthralling the visitors with her memories and amusing anecdotes of her childhood, living in a back to back house in and around the Hurst Street area in the centre of Birmingham.

A great photograph (above) of Joyce’s Dad in the centre holding the brown paper bags, selling fruit and veg from his barrow outside Woolworths in the Bull Ring (early 1950’s). His nickname in the markets was “Putty Rabbit”, because he never stopped talking!

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Honestly, Grown-ups! – A short story by Joyce Sale

Jo and Marie were dressed for a party, when out of the blue, Gran burst in through the door.

“Oh my God Sarah, put the kettle on, I’m as dry as a ten bob note!”

Jo and Marie looked at each other and said, “blooming hell we’ll never get to the party now!“

Gran parked herself down on our old settee which had seen better days, and sometime ago it looked as if it would collapse under the strain of her weight.

“I’m sure that Hurst Street gets steeper every time I come ere,” said Gran. “What are you two sitting there for, all dressed up like a dogs dinner?”

“Oh don’t start Mom”, said Sarah, “the girls are off to Betty’s party round at number seven”. “Have you got your dish and spoon, girls?” – “yes Mom”, replied both girls with their eyes in the air.

“Ain’t that Betty’s mom who used to goo with the Americans?”

“ Shush Mom, don’t get bringing things up like that in front of the girls.”

Joe and Marie just looked at each other. “Here you are Mom drink that up, should I’ve put some sugar in? Would you like a biscuit with it?”.

“Ooh ta, yes please luv, got any arrowroot?”

“I’ll have a look,” said Sarah.

“Mom, is it time to go yet?”, we promised Betty we would come early and have a game of marlies before the others came.”

“You don’t wanna goo getting them pretty dresses dirty playing them games.” said Gran.

“We wont get our dresses dirty Gran, we only roll them along the ground.”

“There you are then, you could fall down – you tell ‘em our Sarah”.

“Now, now Mom calm down, they’ll be fine.”

“Well if you say so, girls did as they were told in my day.” said Gran. Jo and Marie just looked at each other.

“You’ll never guess who I bumped into coming up the hill?” said Gran, “Rose what’s ‘er name, you know the one that married that Gipsy fellow, who had two horses and used to go round the streets collecting old clothes and stuff. Now what was is name? Any road up she told me she had asked her Pattie to sit in the window and count the bags of coal that the coal man was delivering, as she had ordered six bags of coal, and you know what these people are like, they’ll short change you at the drop of an ‘at. It turned out that ‘er Pattie told her he had only put five bags down the coal ‘ole. So Rose said she went after him down the hill, like a dose of salts, shouting and blinding , ‘Oi – you have only left me five bags instead of six!”

“Gerrorf ” said the coal man, “your Pattie can’t count, ‘er never goos to
school ”

“Poor Rosie was out of breath after running after the ‘orse and cart, she couldn’t argue with him cause it was true, their Pattie never went to school, she liked to stop at home and do the house work while Rose went out cleaning. Pattie got a clout round the earhole when Rosie got back home. I’ve just remembered their name.” said Gran. “It was the Golds.”

“Well I never!” said Sarah.

Jo and Marie just looked at each other “Mom, is it time to go yet?” said the girls. They were getting a bit restless by now.

“Stop bothering your Mother you two, and stop fidgeting, any one think you had St Vitus Dance.” said Gran. “By the way, our Sarah, did you hear about the carry on that happened in Inge Street, with them two women having a right how do you do, about who’s it was to use the brew ‘us?

“Apparently one got in early and it wasn’t ‘er turn, so when the other one turned up with her washing, she told her to get ‘ers out, the other women wouldn’t, so this other one started to remove it herself. Then the other woman got a wet towel out of the copper and slapped it round the other woman’s head. It turned into a right ol’ barney, the neighbours had to separate them else they would have killed each other.”

“Well I never”, said Sarah, “takes all sorts. Do you want another cuppa Mom?”

“Goo on then love”, said Gran, “then I must be off, I’ve got to go to the market to get me fruit and veg, then over to the Fish Market to see ‘erbert about some fish”.

“I thought you weren’t going to buy any more fruit from the market after the last time when nearly all them pears were rotten”, said Sarah.

“Oh they’ll never serve me rubbish again,” said Gran, “didn’t I tell you I took ’em back the next day and did I give that bloke a good pastin’. His name was Putty, by the time I’d finished with him he was like putty in me hands. ‘OK Ma’ he said, ‘Don’t go on so much!’ and gave me another bag of pears, which was good. You have to watch these barra boys, yer know our Sarah.”

“You do Mom” said Sarah.

Jo and Marie just looked at each other.
“Won’t be long now girls”, said Sarah. “I’ll take you round to Betty’s house when Gran leaves”.

“’ow’s yer Billy, Sarah?”, said Gran, “Remind him to pop in on his way home from work Friday, I’m fryin’ a nice bit of Cod for yer teas. He said he would have a look at the mangle for me, it keeps stickin’ for some reason. Probably only needs oilin’, but you know what your Dad is like, if I ask him to do anything, he won’t know what end to look at, let alone where to put the oil, he’s blooming useless. He was never much good around the house, but he has always bin at work, so I can’t grumble much. Havin’ said that I didn’t ‘alf have a go at him the other night. He went over to the Nags Head to get ‘is jug of ale and he was gone for nearly an hour, so I put me coat’n’at on and went looking for him. Do you know our Sarah, there he was sitting on a stool in the outdoor having a pint with his cronies, Woodbine in his mouth and singin’ ‘is head off ‘Let me call you sweetheart’. Well you might know when he saw me standing there lookin at ‘im, he soon jumped off the stool, saying ‘Well, Alf and Bert, must be off the missus is here’. “Did I give him a good ear bashin’ when we got in the house”.

Jo and Marie just looked at each other.

“Oh my God”, said Gran, “Is that the time? Well I never and ‘eres me promising to pop in and pay my last respects to old Annie, whose lying in her coffin in ‘er house, before they remove her to the church tonight. Lovely woman was Annie, God Bless her. She’d lend you her last shilling if she could, but mind you’d have to pay her interest, when you paid her back, but that was Annie. Should be a good turn out at the funeral, people was grateful to Annie, she helped them out many times when they had nuthink. I shall go to the church”, said Gran, “and then I’m ‘elping her daughter Cissie with the food for the wake afterwards. I hope er ‘as made some bread pudding, I’m rather partial to that. Well I must be off or I’ll never get to the markets. Tara a bit Sarah love, see you Saturday”.

“OK Mom”, said Sarah, “Mind how you go”

“Give us a kiss girls”, said Gran “And mind what your doing at the party, don’t eat to much jelly and custard, else you’ll make yourselves sick”.

“Ooh!“ said the girls

After Gran had left Jo said to her Mom, “Can we go now, else we will be late?”

“I’m coming”, said Mom, “Let me put me coat on, its not very warm today”.

Marie said ”Mom what did Gran mean when she said Betty’s Mom and the Americans, only Betty told us once her Mom knows people in America?”

“I don’t know what your talking about” said Mom, “Now come on lets get going, where’s that key?”

The girls looked at each other and said, “Honestly, Grown-Ups!”

John and Frank Clarke

John and his wife, Sarah Anne Clarke lived at 2 back of Court 6 Hurst Street from 1917 until 1930. John Clarke’s younger brother, Frank Clarke also lived nearby at Centre Row 5 Hurst Street for a number of years and after War living at 3 Court 9 Hurst Street from 1921 until 1939.

John Clarke was born at no 5 back of 48 Edgbaston Street, on the 12th October 1891. Two years later brother Frank was born nearby at 2 back of 63 Smallbrook Street. Their parents were William and Cicely Clarke. William was a brass dresser, one of the many skills associated with the brass trade in Birmingham, which could be conducted from home.

Both brothers served with distinction in the Great War, with each of them receiving service medals. Elder brother John was a regular soldier when war was declared, having enlisted in 1908. Frank joined up at the start of the War in 1914. They were in different regiments with John in the Warwickshire’s and Frank in the Gloucester’s.

On home leave on 28th of March 1915, John marries Sarah Anne Bates aged 21 at St Jude’s Church. Their address is given is 3 back of court 9 Essex Street, just around the corner from Hurst Street.

During his war service, John received wounds to his leg, hand and head, the latter to have serious consequences. The head injury resulted in a compound fracture to the skull. It was not stated whether this injury is from a bullet or from shrapnel or another source. In January 1917, John was formerly dis- charged from the Army, now deemed no longer physically fit for active military service. His grand-daughter Joyce Sale believes that he was admitted to Roehampton Hospital, a renowned hospital specialising in prosthetics, plastic surgery and facial reconstruction. Joyce also adds that John knew or feared he might not have to long to live as he asked brother Frank to take care of his wife, Sarah Anne.

John returns to live in Hurst Street as an army pensioner living with wife Sarah Anne and works in the local brass bedstead works. In 1931 John is admitted to Highbury Hall Hospital, where at the age of 39 he dies after an operation to his skull. Perhaps this was a long delayed result of John’s war injury, gunshot or shrapnel embedded in his skull for nearly 16 years. The family remember John endured headaches throughout his life.

Frank Clarke was born on the 15th May 1863 in a back to back house in Smallbrook Street. The Clarke family would have a total of 14 children in 24 years of marriage with only 7 surviving through to adulthood. This is a telling statistic revealing the degree of infant mortality associated with back to back and inner city living in the early part of the 20th century. Frank was 19 when he enlisted on 7th September 1914 and in 1915 his brigade embarked for France and then on to Greece where his company saw action. At one point during his service Frank was treated for shellshock, he also contracted malaria. The disease would plague him for the rest of his life.

Post armistice, Frank returned to the back to backs, his occupation given as a warehouseman. In 1921 he is living at 3 Court 9 Hurst Street this is his address until 1939, when his new address is 31 Sun Street, where he now lives with Sarah Anne. This is the same Sarah Anne who married his brother John, and was widowed when John died in February 1931. Frank (38) and Sarah(37), marry ten months later at Birmingham Register Office, on the 28th November 1931. Frank had been one of the witnesses at his brother’s wedding and now he is the groom!

Marriage to the widow of a brother was not unusual occurrence in the aftermath of The Great War, especially with the depletion of the male population and the economic circumstances of the 1930’s. By 1955, Sarah Anne and Frank are living at no 12 Irving Street, the same street where Joyce Sale was born.

Both brothers fulfilled their duties in the “war to end all wars”. Both survived that war, returning to their roots in Hurst Street. Both married the same woman Sarah Anne.