Betty's stories bring a lost age sharply into focus

It portrays two colourful characters of the city's streets in the 1920s and earlier - Jemima Beck, popularly known as The Old Salt Lady, and her inept assistant and general handyman, Charlie.

It was only a few months ago that Mrs Fulcher's son Jon, of Victoria Avenue, Worcester, re-discovered the typewritten texts and newspaper cuttings of about a dozen of his mother's essays on old Worcester and on historical aspects of Malvern.

Some of them appeared as articles in the Worcester Evening News and the Malvern Gazette between 1969 and 1974.

Mrs Fulcher and her husband Cyril ran a popular and successful general stores in Malvern for several years, but she died in 1980, at the age of 61. Her husband outlived her by 20 years, and it was during the clearance of his home that Betty's essays were re-discovered.

The first 10 years of her life were spent with her parents Albert Arthur and Elizabeth (Daisy) Dawson and brother Allan at 77 Northfield Street, The Arboretum, Worcester, a terraced house opposite St Mary's churchyard.

The Dawson family later moved to a house in Hylton Road, which stood next to the City Electricity Works where Betty's father held a key job for much of his working life.

Mrs Fulcher's essays on Worcester are all drawn from fond and vivid memories of her happy childhood and teens.

Jemima and Charlie are central characters in her memories of the travelling traders who often came calling along Northfield Street, during the 1920s.

"The Old Salt Lady - for that was how everyone referred to her - must be quite well-remembered by many older people in Worcester," wrote Betty in an unpublished essay of 1972.

"She walked all over the town with her hand cart of salt and, though she was certainly not at all eccentric, she was part of a scene that has long gone, forever.

"And, my word, she must have worked extremely hard because, before going round the streets to sell her salt, she first had to walk over to Droitwich to collect it, and then trek back with her loaded truck.

"The salt was in long blocks, similar to pavement edging stones, and she cut each one to the size required with a saw. She would then cut each piece across again and again, but not quite through, to make it easier for people to break up and store in their salt jars.

"Her visits to Northfield Street were irregular but she was always welcome and assured of sales. I suppose that when I first saw her, she was between 50 and 60, and she always remained spotlessly clean, though, to my mind, sometimes quaintly dressed. She protected her shoulders with a sack, worn cape fashion, and her head was usually adorned with a man's flat cap.

"She was rather plump and wore her straight black hair scraped back severely from her face, her small black eyes darting continuously over the people surrounding her truck and also up and down the street to see if custom was hotting up at all. She was abrupt in manner and rarely smiled.

"After a while, a man also used to accompany her. He was very gaunt and walked in a shambling fashion with his knees bent. He sometimes wore a cap but more often had a battered, old-fashioned trilby on his head. I thought perhaps that he was the Old Salt Lady's husband or maybe her son, but I could not understand why she spoke to him so harshly or why, on occasions, she would set about him with a stick she carried.

"I found out a little more about this colourful pair when we moved to Hylton Road, for they lived in a tiny cottage in a lane not far from us. It turned out her name was Jemima Beck and that he was called Charlie, taken in by her as a general handyman. He got no pay, just his board and lodging and food.

"Charlie was simple-minded, clumsy and awkward, which must at times have infuriated her, but they seemed to be strangely dependent upon one another. Two rather unattractive, lonely people - she so hard-working and harsh, and he so inadequate.

"The cottage where they lived was demolished many years ago to make way for the Hylton Road Garage which now stands in its place. I remember it as a pretty, green-painted place with a small garden and a tall pear tree by the side.

"When Jemima was elderly, my mother would call on her frequently with shopping etc., and the inside of that cottage was a veritable treasure house of old china, brass and copper. It was as neat as a pin and spotlessly clean in spite of being flooded every time the river came up.

"I wonder what happened to all the contents of the cottage after Jemima's passing. No doubt it all went for a song, yet by today's standards, it must have been worth a small fortune," wrote Betty Fulcher.

Her essay also throws the spotlight on other traders who visited Northfield Street when she was a young girl.

"The Knife Grinder was an occasional visitor and seemed to be kept busy, usually surrounded by an interested crowd fascinated to watch the sparks flying as scissors and knives were ground against his whirling grindstone, driven by a treadle.

"Sometimes we were entertained by the Hurdy-Gurdy Man, and once I recall a busker coming round with a dancing bear. There was also a man who came selling pikelets or muffins from a large flat tray which he balanced on a pole.

"One of the first traders to use a lorry was the Oil Man whose name was either Bromley or Cordle. His lorry was a sight for sore eyes as he carried everything imaginable in the hardware line - zinc buckets, small baths, china and enamel ware, glass tops for oil lamps, gas mantles, saucepans, and screws, nails, nuts and bolts.

Added Mrs Fulcher: "In earlier years, cars had been such a novelty that we would all rush out to gaze whenever one passed by.

"Another event which always produced a flurry of interest was when the steam roller came to resurface the street with tar.

"However, most of the traffic was still horse-drawn then, so at the end of each day there was a fine harvest of manure along Northfield Street. Small boys would shoot out to gather it up and sell it to householders for a half-penny a bucket load. It was very good for the rhubarb which we all grew in the long back gardens behind the houses.

"Our milkman had a curious bicycle. It was a three-wheeler with a platform between two of the wheels on which he carried his milk in churns and big cans with lids. He sold full-cream milk and also skimmed milk, which was very cheap.

"We would buy this in large quantities because it was very useful for all the milk puddings and porridge we had. The milkman's name was Leo and he had a bad stammer, though I thought he was a lovely person.

"Dear old John Smith's shop was also heaven to me for he made the most delicious ice-cream I ever tasted. Whenever a child went with its parents to his shop, he always handed out a piece of his home-made cough candy which was crunchy and tasty. Every New Year's Day too, this jolly rotund little man would give an orange to every one of the local children.

"Overall, the Worcester street scenes of the 20s were in such sharp contrast to those of today - it was virtually another world," recalled Mrs Fulcher.

She also told the amusing tale of "running away TO school" when she was just three! "Yes, all the way across Northfield Street to St Mary's School, but I was promptly returned home by the headmistress, Mrs Innes. However, I was allowed to start school at four.

"The schoolroom seemed enormous with huge black stoves like great animals. You were placed at the front of the class if inclined to be a chatterbox, but in the winter this was a much sought-after position as it was the warmest place in the room, close to the stoves."

From her years living at Hylton Road, Betty remembered the cluster of 20 small cottages and houses which occupied what is now the site of the Hylton Road Garage.

"Several of them were occupied by elderly people living alone but not appearing to be at all lonely, for they were all so close together. On warm summer nights, people would bring out their chairs to watch the world go by.

"Day trippers in charabancs would stop on the riverside and visit nearby pubs before being entertained in the street by local buskers and urchins who would usually get a welcome shower of coppers for their efforts."

Betty Dawson married Cyril Fulcher, who served in the Military Police during the war and later in the Fire Brigade, before they set up in business with a general stores at 50 Upper Howsell Road, Malvern.

They lived above the shop but in 1968, transferred their business across the road to set up what became probably the first supermarket in Malvern. Their home from then on was in Leigh Sinton Road.

They retired from their general stores in 1979 - a year before Betty's death. Cyril died last March.

Sons Jon and Steve and daughter Deborah are naturally proud of their mother's writings and are to keep them safely in a souvenir folder. Steve and Deborah both live at Malvern.