Pedlars; Hawkers; and Salesmen-An Update!

BONUS MONDAY POST

'PREPARE FOR THE RETURN OF THE DOOR-TO-DOOR SALESMEN'  ran the imposing headline on page eleven of Saturday's Daily Telegraph.

For a brief moment I thought it might be return of the invaders from outer space-or aliens or even the return from the planet of the apes. But no, it was to do with one of my favourite topics from the past-our old friends, pedlars, hawkers and salesmen.

Jo Swinson from the Lib-Dems is trying to fast-track the scrapping of the outdated requirement for pedlars to abide by the 1871 Pedlars Act which she deems to be too restrictive; it requires pedlars to have a fixed address and to be of good character. Also children under the age of seventeen will be able to sell trinkets for the first time. Part of the rationale is to encourage and promote entrepreneurship in these tougher economic times.

So while for most of us we can look forward to a new influx of colourful visitations, those at Morningside are busy even now dusting down and polishing up their No Hawkers, Pedlars or Salesmen signs-sorry to disappoint you Liz, but nae such visitations for you in Melbourne-Oz is doing too well economically compared to the rest of us in the home country!

No Pedlars; Hawkers; And Salesmen-An Update

I picked up a book in Stockbridge, Edinburgh at the weekend called Moving Worlds, the Personal Collections Of Twenty One Immigrants To Edinburgh. A couple of the stories give an interesting insight into the world of the Pakistani or Indian gentleman with the suitcase who used to visit The Stair. I suspect that similar to Onion Johnny that our salesman wasn't unique and instead there was a whole platoon of salesmen out there!

Lal Khatri left the Punjab in 1929 and came to Edinburgh. He was advised by a friend...If you get a pedlar's licence from the police and you buy some stuff and you sell it, then that will give you some income to live on if you are lucky. He then goes on to say...I managed to get the licence and it was very good from then onwards. Things were hard but I could always get enough money to buy bread and pay for my room and all that sort of thing. We sold all sorts-shirts, dresses and blouses. I sold what I had with me and took orders for anybody wanting anything...the prices were quite reasonable but lots of people had no money. Even one eleven-ha'penny article took two or three visits for customers to pay for. Some people banged the door in front of you...others would open it...Oh, some of those people became friends through that, and others, of course, had no time for you at all.

Baldev Singh with Pappinder in 1969

Baldev Singh came to Edinburgh in 1958. He was born in Lahore, Pakistan in 1947. He is a Sikh. He says...my grandfather came to Edinburgh as a door to door salesman...He used to sell shirts, ties, hankies, blouses, things like that. They all did that when they first came here...But 90% o' Sikhs went roond the doors sellin' with a suitcase, took orders and delivered the stuff. It's freedom to them, you see. Naebody but themselves, naebody tellin' them what to do. They used to go whenever they felt like it...

Hawkers, Pedlars and Salesmen-Onion Johnny

I don't think any of us realised quite what an interesting and exotic place Oxgangs was half a century ago.

Another of the great characters who visited The Stair was Onion Johnny. For the younger followers of The Stair, Onion Johnnies went from door to door selling onions from their bikes. The onions hung, drooped over the bicycle's handle-bars and cross bar. Early on in the day it must have been difficult to ride the bicycle and often Onion Johnny would be seen wheeling his bicycle.

Whilst we thought he was unique to Oxgangs, there were Onion Johnnies all over the country. Looking back, I wonder how our Onion Johnny coordinated his work. Where were the onions stored in Edinburgh? How did he organise and replenish his stock throughout the day? Where did he eat and sleep? And, how on earth did he make it pay?

Having done a wee bit research, a clearer picture begins to emerge. We were actually very lucky to have our own Onion Johnny as by 1973 there were only one hundred and sixty Onion Johnnies left in the whole of the UK.

They came from Breton in northern France, bringing across the distinctive red onions after the harvest in July. They rented local barns where the onions were stored, often not returning to France until January of the following year. So perhaps our Onion Johnny rented a barn from one of our local farmers at Dreghorn or Swanston?

Often they slept on or were wrapped up in their onion-sacks in sheds, barns and derelict houses-tough going as the warmth of summer, faded to the cold and frosts of late autumn and winter. It must have been lonely too-these weren't the days of mobile phones. Their families must have worried about them and the onion sellers must have missed their children dreadfully, as they strived to earn money to support them so far from home.

Onion Johnny-yet another example of the colourful, admirable and gutsy Hawkers, Pedlars and Salesmen who served our community and added to the richness of life at The Stair!

Yet Another Interesting Pedlar

Did you ever come across a tiny wee tin of polish?

'Another salesman was a Pakistani gentleman who my brother Douglas irreverently called 'Sambo'. I have no idea what his real name was but I always admired him because it took guts to do what he did. He wore a traditional trench coat like Humphrey Bogart and carried a large brown suitcase stuffed with all manner of goods.' Liz Blades

As Liz says one of the many itinerant pedlars, hawkers and salesmen who visited The Stair each week was a small Pakistani or Indian travelling salesman. Liz Blades and I recall that the salesman was always dressed the same way, no matter whether it was summer or winter, he wore a fawn coloured raincoat/trench-coat. Mrs Anne Hoffmann seemed to recall that he wore a turban-I don't recall whether he did or not. If he did, the odds are that he was Indian. Perhaps when I see Douglas Blades towards the end of October I can ask him for his memory.As Liz said she admired him-it took a lot of chutzpah to go from household to household trying to peddle wares. He was always impeccably mannered with a ready smile on his face. For me he was like the rag n bone man because of his suitcase full of curiosities. Whereas Liz admired him, I admired the content of his suitcase-when he opened it to tempt his customers I of course was captivated; Mrs Anne Hoffmann was naturally less excited.

The only occasion I recall us getting something from him was a little tin of polish which he recommended to me for cleaning my bicycle. Ironically, I don't think we bought it-instead it was a free sample to thereafter tempt us to purchase the normal size tin. I believe the manufacturers produced these sample tins for that purpose.

I wonder what happened to him and his family over the years and decades? His was such an exotic appearance and visitation that he left an indelible mark on my memory.

Pedlars, Hawkers and Salesmen-Carrying Coals to Newcastle?

Throughout the 1960s the source of heating and hot water in each house in The Stair was the small open fire in the sitting room. It was at the fireplace that we would dry our sodden socks n wellies after playing out in the snow or from getting wet jumping the burn. On late autumn tea times and cold winter nights we would gather around the fire. Many's the tea time when my grandfather dropped by most week days for a cuppa and to slip us some pocket money or on Tuesdays a box of fruit and veg.

There was more than one coal-man who came to The Stair. The Hoffmanns' coal-man was Veitch. He used to come to the house each Friday lunchtime. On many occasions it would be me who hosted the visit. It was either Alex Veitch and/or the second man on the lorry, who may have been his brother-certainly there has been a Veitch Brothers Transport business at Loanhead for many years. I assume they got their coal from Monktonhall Colliery? In the quieter summer months I wonder if they did other types of transport to maintain an income?

I always found the 'coal-man' gruff and unrecognisable under their sooty faces-although one would have thought that after years of delivery there would be a relationship, instead it was only ever a transaction for me. We used to get a bag of coal and a bag of something called 'chirles'-although I haven't been able to track that word down-basically it was very small pieces of coal-I suspect it was cheaper, and it was also good for getting the fire going, before larger lumps were put on the glowing fire later.

The Coalman Mike Jones

I wouldn't have recognised him, but Mrs Anne Hoffmann knew and liked Alex Veitch. She said he used to scrub up well when she saw him at the dancing at The Plaza at Morningside. She also spoke of his kindness too. On occasions when we had run out of money and couldn't buy coal in the winter months he would have a look at the empty coal bunker and put in a free bag of coal.

Plaza, Morningside Road, Edinburgh

In later years I may even have come across him when I worked in Midlothian where the Council used to help out the Loanhead Gala Day.

No Pedlars, Hawkers or Salesmen!

I was going to entitle this blog, Balloon or a Balloon? after an exchange of comments with Liz Blades-Hamilton in Australia, previously 6/6, The Stair. However, apart from going easy on my younger self and saving it for another day, I was also reflecting on the number of  salesmen who had featured in this little run of blogs-Jock the Fishman; Jimmy the Grocer; Mario the Ice Cream-man.

It made me think of a door plate that I saw at a few houses at Morningside when I was doing my early morning paper run for Bairds Newsagents. The sign said No pedlars, hawkers or salesmen. I didn't have a clue what the first two terms meant, but always found the sign interesting. When I read the sentence out loud  it had a certain rhythm to it-like the title of a Cher song. It also seemed quite intriguing too. Even now, there's almost a medieval feel to it.

It's made me reflect on how lucky we were in some respects to be brought up in Oxgangs at The Stair. There was a certain richness of experience in our lives which might have been missing if we'd been brought up elsewhere. We met all these wonderful characters and shared in the vibrancy and colour of communal living. If we'd stayed in the leafy suburbs of Morningside life would have been quieter and much more solitary.

So, No Pedlars, Hawkers or Salesmen certainly wasn't the kind of door-plate that appeared on any door at The Stair. Perhaps, if there had been, it might have been as below!

Or on second thought it might have been any or all of these!

For the earlier blog on Jimmy's Green Van either of the following two badges might have been appropriate!

The Y is unfortunately missing!