The First Seventy Years: 6 - Rupert And The Shire Horses
Eric Biddulph recalls the games, the books, the comics which he enjoyed as a boy.
During the summer months my father took a cricket bat, stumps and ball down to The Forest. He would spend most of the time bowling the ball to me and doubling up as a fielder. Only occasionally did I assume the role of bowler.
We were never really into football, probably because in those days it was seen as a winter sport, and it was dark early during the colder evenings of the year.
My parents bought me one of the small-sized Meccano sets which were very popular amongst boys at the time. They purchased additional sections for me on successive birthdays and Christmases. Each section consisted of steel plates each containing many holes. They were brightly painted in either red or green. There was also an ample supply of screws, nuts and wheels. A wide variety of models could be built, and I spent many absorbing hours with my Meccano equipment on the dining room table.
I was an avid reader of the Beano and Dandy comics - Desparate Dan, Lord Snooty, Korky the cat, Sneezing Cesear - they all gave me great pleasure as a young boy. In later years I added The Eagle to my repertoire.
I was enchanted by William Brown who featured in the Just William range of books made famous by Richmal Crompton. Like so many publications of the inter-war period 1918-1939 and the immediate post-1945 years, they reflected the life of a rebellious private day school boy in an upper English middle-class family. It was a world away from my own life; perhaps this was what I found so fascinating.
It was Rupert Bear, however, who captivated me. Appearing in the Daily Express as a serial story, his exploits and those of his many friends soon had me hooked. It was always the highlight of my Christmas to receive a copy of the Rupert Bear Annual. I spent hours reading and re-reading them. I still enjoy browsing through the annuals residing on the shelves of the bookcase in the bedroom occupied by my granddaughter on her occasional visits.
The use of horse-drawn drays and carts was very common in Nottingham until well into the 1950s. People would stand on the side of the road ready with a shovel and bucket to scoop up any horse droppings for use as manure on their gardens and allotments.
One of the firms which made use of horse-drawn drays was Shipstone's Brewery, which was about a mile from where I lived. Berridge Road was a main artery leading to the brewery. Come the late afternoon and I would hear the clatter of horses' hoofs on the cobbled road long before they came into view. Magnificent animals which always brought the locals to halt in their tracks to gaze at them admiringly until they had passed by.
There were always two drays. The first pulled by two Shire horses with eight empty wooden casks which had once contained 'Shipstone's Bitter Ale'. The second, carrying four casks would be pulled by a single Shire horse. Berridge Road at its junction with Birrell Road started to go downhill. Perhaps the combination of the empty casks, the draymen's desire to get home, the horses looking forward to a good rub down and a bag of oats at the end of a hard day all combined to provide a special atmosphere as the drays left the flat terrain behind for the downhill run.
The horses knew they were on the last leg and responded eagerly to the urging of their minders. The nearest thing to experiencing a Roman Chariot Charge. It was a privilege to be able to stroke and pat these magnificent animals as they stood outside one of the numerous Shipo's pubs whilst the draymen made a delivery.
The Brewery retained this method of delivery long after it had become clear that their days were numbered. Their demise really was the end of an era.
