R. A. Hawke & Co. Coal Merchants.

There are a fair few places you can get coal in Mid Cornwall. At various times we have used Griggs farm shop, Tresillian garage and Hawkes Coal in Polgooth. I have just come back from the latter with four bags of “blue”. I also took my camera and my dictaphone.

R. A. Hawke’s was started in 1876 by Mrs Thomas (nee Hawke’s) great grandfather. Back then the coal would come in to the harbour at Pentewean, three hundred tons to a schooner, and be transported by train up the Pentewean valley to St Austell. The sidings where it was offloaded can still be seen behind the Co-op, and Mr and Mrs Thomas also remember a gasworks at the same site.

Once in St Austell the coal would be taken by donkey cart to and around Polgooth. A twelve year old boy, a donkey and half a hundred weight would supply coal to the entire village. Back then every house used coal.

The business was passed down from great grandfather to grandfather to father and then to daughter and husband, who are the simply charming current proprietors. They have been running the shop since the fifties and though the world of coal and Cornwall have changed, inside the shop a nostalgic stasis persists in a way that can’t help but make you smile.

The shop is unlike anything else in the area. A tiny space, the floor is packed with various colour bags of coal and kindling. Everywhere above the coal sacks is packed tight with a bewildering collection of vases and trinkets and bits and bobs. All for sale, but seldom sold, except perhaps in the summer when tourists inadvertently find the place.

Mr Thomas, now a very old man who can't lift much, is delightfully proud of his past physical prowess. He rolls out little tales and observations and seems to enjoy curious customers… “The long handled shovel, you've seen one of those, the number eight, the “banjo” we used to call it…fourteen ton trucks… shovel one of them by hand… ‘handrolics’ we used to call it!” he recalls with pride.

Mrs Thomas, the doyenne of the Polgooth coal set, was born 300 yards from the shop. She loves to chatter and always passes on little morsels of local history that don’t really need any context to be interesting; like the story of when the mines stopped production, the locals in Polgooth couldn’t sleep because they weren’t used to the quiet.

If you ever need coal and you would like to have a glimpse into a fading past, then take the trip to Polgooth, and buy the best value coal in the area. The warmth of the anthracite is nothing compared to the warm feeling I have when I leave the shop after a banter with two of the loveliest old locals you could meet. One day I may even buy a vase.