I will start this piece of research and investigation with a little story. When I was young, pre-teenager years, I would spend many a Saturday at my grandparents, primarily to accompany my Granddad to the Rushden Town football match during the afternoon. As was the custom, on arrival I would also be given a few pence to purchase some sweet treats at the corner shop at the junction of Victoria Road and Rectory Road, Eadys I seem to remember but could be wrong. This purchase entailed a quarter pound of mint stripes for my Granddad and what ever took my fancy but would usually involve some liquorice based confectionery such as a sherbet fountain, which was a liquorice straw in a tube of kali, or a batch of liquorice bootstrings.
My Nan would always be interested in my purchases and would exclaim the word Spanish whenever a string of liquorice appeared from my paper bag of goodies. To a young mind this was obviously wrong and she really didn't understand what liquorice was. In hindsight, I know better and the word Spanish was an old term for liquorice on account that the deep rooted plant which was the raw material of the product was primarily imported from Spain after demand outstripped the native supply in the late 19th century, hence the reference as Spanish.
The Spanish reference certainly went back to the pre-war years when my Nan would be more of the age to purchase such confectionery. Back in those days my family owned a sweet shop which my Nan would make numerous references to and which is the subject of this article. The shop was located on the corner of Rectory Road and Portland Road and was bought by my Great Grandfather at the start of the 20th century. Whether this family shop assisted in my Granddad charming my Nan is unknown, but it certainly had a lasting impression upon her considering the numerous times she referenced it in her conversations.
I never knew the shop during my lifetime as it had long been demolished when I was born. All that I have ever known of the former site of the sweet shop is a small car park with a bus stop in front of it and no recognition that a shop or indeed any kind of building had once stood here. In fact it is difficult to imagine there was space to fit a building on this site but we shall come to that later.
So, lets go back in time to try to trace the history of this shop and its occupants. We need to go back to the late 19th century when the town of Rushden was expanding at a very rapid rate. The population figures demonstrate the burgeoning increase in the size of the town. In the mid 1800's the town had a population of some 2,000 residents and it rapidly grew to over 10,000 by the end of the century, no doubt its increase in size fired by the booming boot and shoe industry. My Great Grandfather came to the town during this period, having been in the workhouse in Linslade, Buckinghamshire as a teenager after his parents fell on hard times. He was offered an apprenticeship as a plumber and lodged in Fitzwilliam Street, soon marrying a local girl by the name of Caroline Desborough by the time he was 21, moving to Alfred Street to begin his married life.
Obviously the expansion of the town was accompanied by a large amount of construction, both commercial and residential. Certainly prior to the 20th century the town did not extend beyond what is now Rectory Road. Back in those days the road was no more than a track behind the High Street locally known as the Back Way or Back Lane with many of the houses in the vicinity taking on localised names such as Dentons Yard and Succouth Place. One terrace of houses still exists from this period and is still named as Beaconsfield Terrace (formerly Place) even though it is located on Rectory Road. Things appear to have changed at the end of the century when the road was made into a thoroughfare to relieve the High Street and adopted the name of Rectory Road.
On the Ordnance Survey map of 1885, the site of the shop is depicted with a building on at the end of a terrace, with no recognition of Portland Road which was yet to be constructed. This can be cross-referenced with the 1900 OS map where Portland Road has come into existence and the terrace becomes the corner of the new road. This is also backed up by the census in 1901 which references 12 and 14 Rectory Road, which are the numbers that we are interested in, where the Harris and Downes families occupied 12 and 14 respectively. The 1891 census is difficult to determine whether these houses existed as it does not specifically list the house numbers and the Harris and Downes families are not referenced but they could have been occupied by other families. There is a Watts family at number 10 that appears to be consistent across the two census records. Considering the number of listings it is most likely the house was in existence during this period. The 1881 census has no record of houses in Rectory Road although there are a few unnumbered references for Back Lane. The 1871 census lists Back Lane with numbers only going to 6. Therefore it is difficult to put a definitive date on when this terrace of house was constructed. It would certainly seem later than 1871 and probably between 1881 and 1891 and certainly there by 1901.
It is uncertain exactly when my Great Grandfather, Charles Chamberlain bought the shop. What is known is that he bought both the shop (number 14) and the adjacent house (number 12) together. This enabled him to continue his house decoration business, together with his wife being the shopkeeper, a double income which no doubt put them in good stead for the future. There are clues as to when this purchase occurred and the first is the most significant event that happened in Rushden in the early 20th century which was the Great Fire of Rushden which devastated the town in 1901.
During the afternoon of Friday 19th July of 1901 at around 1:30 a fire started in the largest shoe factory in town, that of Messrs. John Cave and Sons, Limited which occupied land between the High Street and Alfred Street. This quickly spread, engulfing shops in the High Street and the Succoth Chapel on the opposite side of the High Street. Despite valiant attempts by the fire crews of Rushden, Higham and Irthlingbourgh, bolsted by crews from Kettering and Northampton, the fire could not be contained. By 2:45 Alfred Street School had caught alight with no hope of saving it and even a house in duck street was set ablaze. It was a devastating and sad day for all of Rushden
At the time of the fire Charles Chamberlain and his wife were living at 27 Alfred Street, which these days is in the terrace adjacent to the school. There are no specific details of the residential premises that were engulfed in the fire although the records state that it amounted to a dozen or more. Considering the Chamberlain's house was directly opposite the factory as well as very close to the school it is not unreasonable to conjecture that it may well have been one that was engulfed in the inferno. Could this have forced his hand to not only move to Rectory Road, but to buy it? Unfortunately I have found no other reference to his business between 1901 and a listing in the 1903 Kelly's Directory where he is advertised as a painter and shopkeeper in Rectory Road. The census of 1901, recording him living in Alfred Street was carried out on 1st March of that year, which was before the fire. In all probability it is very plausible that he moved residence during that year.
What is unknown is why he should have bought both the shop and the private residence next door. This mystery may be solved in the knowledge that Caroline's elder brother William is described in the 1901 census as a
confectioner working at homein George Street. By the 1911 census he had moved to a High Street and was described as a
sugar boiler working at home. It is also known that one of the shops in the High Street destroyed by the fire was owned by the Desborough family. There is no definitive documentation to deduce what happened but we could possibly conjecture that if the shop had also been an outlet to Williams produce then the families joined together and provided the method and means for William to continue his trade.
Things certainly seemed to go well, with his business being firmly established in the town. This is borne out in newspaper advertising of the period. Things, however, were about to change. In June of 1910 Charles passed away at the age of just 38. A premature death brought on by an apoplectic seizure as he arrived in Hunstation to convalesce on orders from his doctor. This must have put a great strain on the family at the time leaving his wife to bring up their three children, Joe, Edward and Cis. At least the shop provided some kind of income.
By 1913 Caroline had married again to a man from the North-East named Ernest East. Although this seems to have been a strange and distant connection, in reality they were first cousins with a long connection between the Desborough and East families. It would appear that Ernest was a military man prior to the marriage and relocating to Rushden must have continued the Painting and decorating side of the business, no doubt with assistance from Charles' sons, Joe and Edward, who were now teenagers.
The First World War saw Edward killed in battle. During this time a shrine was placed in front of the shop. Whether there was any connection with this placement and the death of Edward is uncertain. Ernest died in 1931 leaving Caroline to continue the shop alone. There are certainly references to her still at the shop up to the start of the WWII but for how long she remained there is unknown. She died in 1952.
Returning to the history of the building, its demise occurred in 1956 when the whole terrace of houses was demolished. During the period that it was owned by the Chamberlain and East families, Rectory Road had become a relief road to the High street with significant road widening carried out in the 1920s to provide adequate access for traffic along the route. It was said that prior to this the road was barely wide enough to accommodate two directions of traffic and in consequence buildings had to be demolished to create the width for a road to cater for the increasing amount of mechanised traffic. Despite this work, there remained a pinch-point at the junction of Portland Road where traffic bottle-necked due to the terrace of houses that included the shop. This terrace jutted out into the road causing a single lane on the road in front. Therefore to alleviate this congestion the houses were sanctioned to be demolished and this explains why there is such a narrow piece of land where the shop used to be. Originally it would have taken up part of the road.
Now to the main picture at the head of this article which depicts the old sweet shop with Ernest East standing in front, and Caroline and her daughter Doreen in the doorway of number 12. One thing that draws the eye is the painted side of the shop with the words 14 Portland Road prominently displayed and a street sign below for Portland Road. Without a doubt the shop was 14 Rectory Road, this is borne out in all official documentation from census records, newspaper advertisements and birth certificates. 14 Portland Road exists today and this does have a stone placed above its upper bay window that clearly depicts the date 1899 which means both shop and 14 Portland Road existed at the same time, probably built within a decade of each other. They are clearly two distinct buildings.
The clue to this conundrum is in the painted sign which appears to advertise a furniture warehouse with 'Expert Advice Given' and established 1890. The business set up by Charles Chamberlain and then superseded by Ernest East was for House decoration with plumbing and glazing services. This is clearly a different business. To qualify this, the Chamberlain and East business is advertised at the lower corner of the wall where it clearly states
For Gasfittings and Wallpapers. In addition to this, in 1891 Charles was yet to set up a business as the 1891 census has him living in Fitzwilliam Street where he is described as an Improver Plumber and Glazier. An improver, as far as I understand, was someone still learning the trade. The obvious answer to this conundrum is that Charles had shrewdly rented out the side of the building to advertise a business in Portland Road that by coincidence was the same number as his own shop. A likely candidate for this Portland Road business is Bert Scroxton and Sons who was advertising in the Rushden Echo and Argus in February 1926 with that specific contact address and slogans of
Furniture Removers to all parts of the World. Haulage of Every Description. Up-to-date Saloon Bus to carry 14 persons.
Mr Scroxton was certainly familiar with Charles as both a business acquaintance and probably also a friend. This is borne out by press cuttings when Charles passed away in 1910. He had suffered apoplectic seizure and under the advice of doctors had travelled to Hunstanton to recuperate. Unfortunately he became unconscious the train pulled into the station and died later that evening. It was said that Bert Scroxton was in the Hunstanton area at the time and offered his assistance to Caroline during this trying experience.
It would be good to date this picture and there are plenty of clues that can give us a good idea. The lower part of the wall has three advertising hoardings for films. Two of these can be clearly made out, Fighting Blood and Life's Greatest Question, with the first and most distant looking to be another advertisement for Life's Greatest Question. Fighting Blood appears to be a boxing related film. There were two films with this title released in the early 20th century, one in 1911 and the other in 1923. The second seems the most likely candidate as it is a boxing film staring George O'Hara, Clara Horton, Kit Guard. Life's Greatest Question is easier to identify as it clearly lists the principle actors being Roy Stewart and Louise Lovely. This certainly ties in with such a named film that was released on 19 August 1922. This poster also provides dates for the film showing which are Thursday, Friday and Saturday July 31, August 1 and 2. Therefore the photo must have been taken after 1922. The only calendar dates that coincide with the relevant days immediately after 1922 are for the year 1924, this not occurring again until 1930. If this was 1924 then Doreen, the girl in the doorway, would have been 10 years old which seems reasonable as opposed to 16 if this was 1930. 1924 seems to be the most likely year. As for the time of year, if we consider such posters were regularly updated for imminent films, then this suggests the photo was taken some time around June or July 1924.
This has been a fascinating discovery of both family history and the history of a long forgotten building on one of Rushden's main thoroughfares. Most questions have been answered after a lot of research and investigation. And I still clearly remember my Nan fondly speaking of the little sweet shop on Rectory Road.
References
- Geneology page on Rushden Heritage website
- Great Fire page on Rushden Heritage website
- Rectory Road demolition page on Rushden Heritage website
- Town expansion page on Rushden Heritage website
- Town expansion page on Rushden Heritage website
Updates
- 2020-04-18 original publication
William Edward Chamberlain was born in Rushden on the 14th January 1898, the son of Charles and Caroline. He was their first child with subsequent births of Frances, commonly known as Cis, in 1899 and Joseph in 1904. For reasons unknown he was always referred to by his middle name of Edward throughout his short life which was curtailed by events on the Western Front in WWI.
He began school on 2nd May 1904 attending Alfred Street Infants. In addition to regular schooling Edward also attended the Sunday school at the grandiose Succoth Baptist chapel that was located in Rushden High Street opposite the Rose and Crown pub. This imposing building was demolished in 1969 after being closed in 1957 due to a dwindling congregation.
During his time within education, in 1910, he lost his father who died whilst travelling to Hunstanton where he was due to spend time recuperating from an apoplectic seizure which he suffered nine weeks earlier. His fathers famous last words as the train entered Hunstanton station were
Is this the journey’s end?. This fitting statement is by far the most appropriate sign-off ever uttered by a member of the Chamberlain family with their dying breath.
Edward was aged 13 when he left school on on 16th January 1911, the reason being recorded as
claimed exemption. At the time, the school leaving age was a mere 12 years old. However, schools charged fees in those times and it is considered that after the death of his father, the family would have had little in the way of income and the exemption would have been granted due to the family being declared poor. Edward was now been the head man of the house and had to assist in providing for the family. Documents from this period of time describe Edward as a plumber and it is assumed this was part of the family business. His father, Charles, had migrated to Rushden after being cast into the Linslade workhouse due to his own family being destitute. He was offered an apprenticeship as a plumber in Rushden and later built up his own decorating business. Therefore we can probably safely assume that at 13 years old Edward continued his late fathers business after having already acquired rudimentary plumbing skills that had been passed down to him during his formative years as any father likes to teach their son. The business certainly continued trading as it is listed in later years as Messrs Chamberlain, Plumbers and Decorators.
Three years after the death of Edwards' father, on 7th June 1913, his mother remarried to a salesman from Blyth in south-east Northumberland named Ernest East. Little is known about Ernest, although records do show he appeared to have a child from a former marriage that was placed in Alfred Street School. John Herbert East, being described as being under the care of Caroline Chamberlain, left the school in 1913 to return to Blyth. Between 1914 and 1917 Ernest and Caroline had three children, Fred, Doreen and Winnie.
It is not known what effect these family upheavals had upon Edward or how he took to his step father. What is recorded is the fact that on 25th October 1916, seemingly much against the family wishes, he volunteered as a Army Reserve, soon being drafted into the British Expeditionary Force the following January before being placed in the The Hawke Battalion later that month. The Hawke Battalion was an infantry division of the Royal Navy named after a former Naval Commander. Officially known as the 63rd (Royal Naval) Division it was an infantry division formed at the outbreak of the WWI and made up of members of the Royal Navy and Royal Marine reservists and volunteers, who were not needed for service at sea. He was sent to fight on the Western Front.
During January through to March 1917 Edward was probably involved with the Operations on the Ancre in which the 63rd Division lost 549 casualties. During April and May of 1917, bouts of diarrhoea and Pyrexia, a symptom likely to be caused by infection and indicated by raised body temperature and fever, temporarily relieved him of duty, although it did not prevent him from immediately returning to his Division on the Western Front. However, a gas attack on the 5th August 1917 saw him invalided out of the battle scene to be sent back to the UK. Nothing is recorded about the type of gas that had been used in the attack, or specific effects which he suffered from. What is known is that it took him until November to recover which indicates that he missed out on the Second Battle of Passchendaele in which the Hawke Battalion was involved .
After recovering from the effects of the gas attack, Edward was drafted back into the British Expeditionary Service on 17th May, soon rejoining the Hawke Battalion on the 27th of the same month and being placed back on the Western Front. This stint lasted until August when his division was involved in the Third Battle of Albert which was opening push to the Second Battle of the Somme. This was a major attack to push back the German 2nd Army, who had captured the town of Albert. The battle lasted from the 21st to 29th August, with half the troops made up of what was termed as 'boy recruits' from England including Edward who was wounded in the head. He was admitted to the 29th Casualty Clearing Station in France. Casualty Clearing Stations formed part of the casualty evacuation chain that were manned by troops of the Royal Army Medical Corps. They were expected to treat a man in order to return him back to duty and were not a place for long term recovery. At this point in time the 29th was located at Gezaincourt, being stationed there from 29th March through to 27th September
Edwards' injuries were severe and on the 28th August, after only two days at the Clearing Station, he passed away, a mere 20 years old. The sister in the hospital is quoted as saying
He was brought into our hospital badly wounded in the head and very ill indeed. We did all we could for him, but he died soon after he came to us, on August 28th, quite quietly. He was unconscious all the time he was with us. His military records describe him as a lad with a fresh complexion with brown hair and brown eyes. It also mentions that he could not swim. It was also noted that he had a toe on his right foot amputated, no doubt from gangrene setting in caused by trench foot.
So much for the factual life history of Edward that has been gleaned from the records. There is also a personal family history and this is a word of mouth aspect where rumours and stories are passed down through the generations. William Edward Chamberlain was my Grandfathers brother but my Grandfather never uttered a single word about him in all the time I knew him. The only mention of this young man was from my Grandmother, and always out of her husbands earshot. She would occasionally relate the story of how this young kid in the family had lied about his age and got himself drafted into the army at the start of WWI. He was sent to the front and shot and that was it. He had just signed up, went to the front and was shot. Tragic was one of the words she used. Such a loss of a young life. It was a simple story and not often told, usually only provoked when she went through old family photos or memorabilia. She never told exactly who this person was, probably to prevent me asking curious questions to my gramp. Not much else was ever said in the family. It appeared to be a taboo subject.
It wasn't until very recently we, the grandchildren, have been able to piece his history together from documents and photos that have come to light in the family archives and from information available on-line. The most puzzling aspect of the whole story is that the family had always said that Edward had lied about his age when he enlisted. This was always a pertinent part of the story related by my Nan and always emphasized the fact that if he had not lied about his age he may still have been alive. It was almost some kind of unforgiven deed which resulted in little being spoken of him. It is true that many young lads, encouraged to do their duty to God and their Country, would fake their age in order to respond to Lord Kitchener's call of
Your Country needs you. Back in those days no proof of age was needed, if you looked old enough then you were in.
The requirements for any recruit to the forces at the time was that he had to be taller than 5 feet 3 inches and aged between 18 and 38. The age limit to serve overseas was 19. The fact is that Edward was 5 feet 5 inches tall, as shown on his Military Service records, and well over 18 years old when he enlisted and 1 week short of 19 when he was drafted into the British Expeditionary Force to serve overseas. We have his birth certificate so there is no doubt whatsoever about his age. Therefore the family story is at odds with the facts. This does make one wonder whether it was a family ruse to prevent him from enlisting. Maybe they were reliant on his income for the family to survive although as his mother had remarried this seems unwarranted. Maybe it was just a mother who did not want her son to be killed. Maybe she put the story about that he was not old enough in the hope that he would be sent home. It is a fact that in 1916, due to the numbers of under-age lads enlisting, the War Office made provision that if parents could prove their sons were under-age, they could ask for them back. In reality a lot were just held in camps until they reached the required age.
Whatever happened back then we shall never know. Maybe the long family silence was merely the fact that it touched a raw nerve, and to let Edwards' name rest in peace. There must have been some family respect and honour for this young man since his name has been handed down through every single generation of the Chamberlain family since. In addition, his name will not be forgotten as it is recorded on the Rushden War Memorial, he has a memorial inscription in Rushden cemetery and there is a headstone at the Bagneux British Cemetery, Gezaincourt in France, virtually the place that he died. The cemetery was begun in April 1918 after the close of the German offensive in Picardy therefore he was probably buried here soon after he died. His name also appears in the on-line records for the Hawkes Battalion and the Commonwealth War Graves Commission and he has a dedicated page on the Rushden Heritage Website with extracts from local newspapers concerning his hospitalisation and subsequent death.
Therefore it is with honour that I write these words on the 11th day of the 11th month of the centenary of the end of WWI, that none shall forget William Edward Chamberlain.
References
- Commonwealth War Graves Commission Website - search of names
- Naval History.Net
- BBC Article How did Britain let 250,000 underage soldiers fight in WW1?
- Wikipedia Article British Expeitionary Force (WWI)
- Wikipedia Article 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
- Parliament website article - Extension to Education
- History Hit article - Facts about gas and chemical warfare in WWI
- Rushden Heritage page for EW Chamberlain
- Location of Casualty Clearing Stations
- The Middlebrook Guide to the Somme Battlefields, Mary Middlebrook, p312
- 2nd battle of the Somme
Updates
- 2018-11-11 Original post date
- 2019-02-18 add photo of war memorial inscription
Throughout my childhood I was regularly reminded by my father that his family was the first to own a car in their street when he grew up. He was talking about Highfield Road in Rushden during the late 1940's. It was a boast that never initiated any more conversation and therefore I never knew what sort of car this was. Presumably it was his fathers, my granddads motor.
Whilst going through a 1940's family photo album, I found the picture above of a 3 wheeler car. The shot was taken from the bedroom of a house which looks like Highfield Road. Was this the first ever car owned in Highfield Road?
After a little research it was revealed that this motor was a Raleigh Safety Seven, produced by the manufacturer more renowned for bicycles. The model had a 766cc engine and was made between the years of 1933 and 1936 with only about 3000 ever made.Top speed - 55mph. Fuel consumption - 60mpg. New price - ₤94.50.
My Granddad, Joe Chamberlain was an accomplished mechanic and could have an engine out of the car on a Saturday morning, have it repaired and refitted ready for the afternoon football match at Hayden Road. I am not sure where he gained his skills but assume it was from the army.
The number plate on this particular vehicle looks to be 'VV', a Northamptonshire registration, followed by four numbers that are indecipherable
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| The complete picture in all its glory |
The scene has changed over the years. I am guessing that the location is looking out from the upstairs window of number 147
References
- Reliant Safety Seven 1933 Road Test http://www.3wheelers.com/rsstest.html
- Reliant Safety Seven Advertising Brochue http://cms.nottinghamshire.gov.uk/ddrn4-11-1-641935safety7carcat2.pdf
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| Grendon Church of St Mary |
Gendons church, dedicated to St Mary, is located on the junction of Church Way and Main Road, at the top of the hill on the road from Wollaston. This sleepy Northamptonshire village has not changed over time although I have to admit I have not visited the place for some 20 years or so. In Modern times, judging from the photo below, the churchyard looks pretty similar to that in 1950 although a row of trees have grown up between the war memorial and the church.
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| Present day St Mary's Church, Grendon - courtesy of Geoff Pick / CC BY-SA 2.0 |
I cannot say I ever knew anyone who hailed from Grendon, it was just a place to pass through or to visit on lazy Sunday afternoons. Even so, it is interesting to note that in Thomas Sternberg's 1851 publication of The Dialect and Folklore of Northamptonshire, he records on page 97 that
...the men of Grendon go by the name moonrakers, in consequence, it is said, of a party of them having once seen the moon reflected in a pool and attempted to draw it out by means of rakes, under the impression it was a cheese!
Strange people out there in the sticks of Northamptonshire. Not that I have ever witnessed any dodgy old boys searching for fermented curd in muddy ponds in them parts.
However, I do have many happy memories of Grendon, having spent several weekends in the village over the years. These stay-overs were at Grendon Hall as part of youth activity weekends. The Hall is a Queen Anne house that stands in 17 acres of grounds and is currently run as an Outdoor Learning Centre by Northamptonshire County Council. Back in those days I believe it was run by an organisation that went under the name of Northamptonshire Association of Youth Groups but could well be wrong in this respect.
Memorable times were enjoyed with several youth club weekends which were hosted in the hall. One distinct memory was of inventing a coke bottle disposal mechanism. The hall boasted a coke machine in the hallway, where for 5 pence (cheap even in them days) one could purchase a glass bottle of coca-cola. These were liberally vended and taken to the upstairs dorms for consumption. However, with all this coke consumption we had a natural problem of waste bottles. I think we were required to return them to a crate by the coke machine where, I believe, they were not just recycled but reused. On this occasion, a friend had learnt how to tie a slip knot, and we soon discovered that armed with a long piece of rope (I cant remember where or who obtained this rope!), we could tie a bottle to one end with a slip knot, then carefully lower this from the upstairs window, which was located at the rear of the building overlooking a courtyard. When the bottle came close to the ground a quick yank would slip the bottle from the knot to deposit it, unbroken, at the base of the building. We did this for the whole collection of bottles that had built up in the dormitory. I never did find out what happened to the bottles after this. For all I know they are still there.
On another visit with a church youth group, each day ended with bible study in the main hall. It was not the most exciting of events but attendance was compulsory with the adult leaders herding the group to attend this ritual. As mischievous as spring sunshine, a friend of mine and myself decided that we should try to evade attendance and hatched a cunning plan to effect such a scheme. A plan so cunning that we would no doubt be honoured as doctors of cunning and the building renamed Cunning Hall.
The plan was put into immediate effect. There was a brief period between dinner and the bible study where we were left to our own devices. In that time we chose to hide in a rather unsuspecting wardrobe that sat uncared for against the walls of the dormitory, getting there before anyone else entered the dormitory. We could just fit into the unused rickety wooden construction and no-one would ever think we would have the daring, the audacity to hide away when there was a thrilling bible study to enthral our lively minds. We stayed very quiet. Well, we tried to stay quiet, as quiet as two youngsters with a perfect plan could stay quiet when they wanted to boast to the world of such a perfect plan. We listened to the sounds issuing from the dormitory We heard the the crash of the gong that was used to announce the meeting was about to start. We heard the calls of the leaders urging all to hurry up. We heard the mumbles of our friends as they trudged downstairs. We heard the heightened calls when all had not left the dormitory and the stragglers reluctantly moved, their footsteps distinctively plodding down the wooden staircase. Then silence. Peace. Solitude.
Several minutes had passed before we dared emerge, but emerge we did into the vacant and silent room. We tippy toed down the stairs to the closed door of the hall and heard the evenings meeting in progress, then tippy toed back up the stairs. We had done it. We had gone and got out of the evening meeting and no-one had suspected. We now had freedom. Freedom to do whatever we wanted to do. The big wide world was our oyster. The chains had been unleashed, the walls broken down and the endless possibilities of unrestrained opportunity presented themselves. But what to do in this brave new world? In them days we had no electronic games or other distractions. All we had was the dorm with its plain beds. It soon became blatantly obvious that sitting around on the beds with not much to talk about was pretty boring. More boring than being in the evening meeting and getting into trouble for being stupid. We had a knack of getting into trouble for being stupid or laughing at an inappropriate time. I had once been excluded from one such meeting for uttering the name Henry Boot which, for reasons unknown, was the start of an avalanche of laughter.
In the end we decided to sneak into the meeting to cure the boredom. Once again we tippy toed down the stairs, then quietly opened the door and sneaked into the group. No-one had noticed us missing. No-one noticed us sneaking back in. No-one even noticed us being stupid that evening, although the name of Henry Boot was kept from being uttered. Was it all worth it? Of course it was.
The plan was put into immediate effect. There was a brief period between dinner and the bible study where we were left to our own devices. In that time we chose to hide in a rather unsuspecting wardrobe that sat uncared for against the walls of the dormitory, getting there before anyone else entered the dormitory. We could just fit into the unused rickety wooden construction and no-one would ever think we would have the daring, the audacity to hide away when there was a thrilling bible study to enthral our lively minds. We stayed very quiet. Well, we tried to stay quiet, as quiet as two youngsters with a perfect plan could stay quiet when they wanted to boast to the world of such a perfect plan. We listened to the sounds issuing from the dormitory We heard the the crash of the gong that was used to announce the meeting was about to start. We heard the calls of the leaders urging all to hurry up. We heard the mumbles of our friends as they trudged downstairs. We heard the heightened calls when all had not left the dormitory and the stragglers reluctantly moved, their footsteps distinctively plodding down the wooden staircase. Then silence. Peace. Solitude.
Several minutes had passed before we dared emerge, but emerge we did into the vacant and silent room. We tippy toed down the stairs to the closed door of the hall and heard the evenings meeting in progress, then tippy toed back up the stairs. We had done it. We had gone and got out of the evening meeting and no-one had suspected. We now had freedom. Freedom to do whatever we wanted to do. The big wide world was our oyster. The chains had been unleashed, the walls broken down and the endless possibilities of unrestrained opportunity presented themselves. But what to do in this brave new world? In them days we had no electronic games or other distractions. All we had was the dorm with its plain beds. It soon became blatantly obvious that sitting around on the beds with not much to talk about was pretty boring. More boring than being in the evening meeting and getting into trouble for being stupid. We had a knack of getting into trouble for being stupid or laughing at an inappropriate time. I had once been excluded from one such meeting for uttering the name Henry Boot which, for reasons unknown, was the start of an avalanche of laughter.
In the end we decided to sneak into the meeting to cure the boredom. Once again we tippy toed down the stairs, then quietly opened the door and sneaked into the group. No-one had noticed us missing. No-one noticed us sneaking back in. No-one even noticed us being stupid that evening, although the name of Henry Boot was kept from being uttered. Was it all worth it? Of course it was.
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| Gendon Hall - courtesy of Kokai / Creative Commons Licence. |
On the whole, the days spent at Grendon Hall were good times. The novelties of youth and the big outdoors with long walks, attempts at completing the challenging woodland assault course and games of sardines in the Hall. Sardines, if I remember correctly, was a version of hide and seek, whereby one person hides and the rest of the group splits up to try and find the person hiding. When the person is found, instead of announcing the discovery to all and sundry, the player then also hides with the person found. The game continues in this fashion with each finder joining those hiding, consequently more and more crammed into the same hiding space like sardines. Great fun. I do remember being the first one to choose the hiding place in one game and hid behind the door of a toilet cubicle. After the allocated time the rest of the group came searching for me. I could hear them searching low and high On several occasions someone came into the toilet and methodically searched in each cubicle, pushing the door open and squashing me against the wall. The door could not be fully opened with me wedged behind it. My feet could easily be seen in the space under the door. Yet no-one found me. I had to reveal myself in the end!
In latter years Grendon was visited during 1984 to 1992 when the Greenbelt Festival was held in the grounds of the nearby Castle Ashby. Being of drinking age, frequent sorties were made to partake in a few pints of beer at the Crown in Grendon and many drunken evenings, laughing singing and having a wicked time were had at this hostelry. Sadly this pub is now closed down and converted into a domestic house.
It is somewhat intriguing that on searching the internet to jog a few memories of Grendon, numerous sites dedicated to ghost hunts at Gendon Hall were found. All night ghost hunts, fright nights and even witch workshops are held in this historic building. It is alleged that doors open and close of their own accord, objects are hurled across the room and furniture moves without anyone near. I can categorically state that on all the occasions that I stayed at this supposedly haunted house, not an inkling of the supernatural was ever witnessed and nothing ever went bump in the night.
Maybe the ghost stories are just unsuspecting witnesses, frightened by coca cola bottles mysteriously being deposited, unaided, at the foot of the building, or wardrobes wobbling as two mischievous youngsters sort to evade a religious meeting, or doors opening from sardines wedged behind them!
Maybe the ghost stories are just unsuspecting witnesses, frightened by coca cola bottles mysteriously being deposited, unaided, at the foot of the building, or wardrobes wobbling as two mischievous youngsters sort to evade a religious meeting, or doors opening from sardines wedged behind them!
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| Rushden Swimming Baths - date uncertain but thought to be circa 1950s |
The class was always under the charge of a certain Mrs Cross
Despite all the lessons during junior school, I did not learn the art of swimming until the early years of attending the Wellingborough Technical Grammar School where we would occasionally be taken to the Croyland Park baths. On such occasions non-swimmers were tasked with fake swimming in the toddlers pool. This was a pursuit which enabled those without swimming ability to pretend to swim aided with polystyrene floats. The floats would be grasped between ones oustretched hands leaving ones legs to provide power to move forward. Fake swimming in all its glory and something I was good at. However, on one occasion I somehow managed to lose grip of the board and started chasing after it, kicking with legs and frantically splashing with my arms and hands. The realisation struck me I was swimming unaided. A sort of frantic doggy paddle, but swimming nonetheless. I have distinct memories of waiting for my dad to get home from work to announce my revelations.
This new found skill immediately earned me my own Rushden Swimming Baths season ticket and an inauguration into my Dads early morning swimming rituals. As soon as the swimming pool opened he would be the first person through the gate at 6am for an half hour of swimming, the perfect way to fire ones awareness into a new day. So it was, despite all weathers, we would roll a towel and trunks and stroll the short distance down the length of Station Road to the baths. The name of the man in charge was commonly known as Ned (I believe this must have been Ned Lines) and my dad and Ned would swap a bit of banter before Ned would announce the current temperature of the water. It was usually in the low 60s Fahrenheit although on occasion, if there was a problem with the boiler, it would be distinctly lower.
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| The metal changing box used at Rushden Baths - Courtesy of the Rushden Research group |
By this time there was usually a least a couple other chaps making ready for an early morning swim. No matter how many stood there looking at the uninviting waters it was always my dad who made the first move and present a perfect dive followed by two lengths of the pool.
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| Rushden Baths originally had a high diving board which was removed c. 1960s |
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| A rather haphazard dive of which my dad would be rather critical as he could perform almost acrobatic dives |
My dad continued swimming throughout his life, being a regular at Rushden Swiming Baths and Wellingborough's Croyland Park pool, where he encouraged both me and my brother to attain the Bronze medallion for life saving. As a founder member of the Rushden and Higham Canoe Club my dad also undertook evening canoeing lessons at Rushden Baths, where they were able to practice such skills as Eskimo rolls. In later life he continued to swim at the Rushden Splash pool and eventually, on retirement, took up a part time post as the caretaker/maintenance man for Splash. Despite his age, well into his 70s, he could outclass any youngster in a swimming or diving challenge. He only gave the swimming up when he needed to be moved closer to family due to illness.
References
- Rushden Heritage Site pages for Rushden Swimming Baths http://www.rushdenheritage.co.uk/leisure/swimming-pool-mainpage.html
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| Yarmouth Steam Drifter YH71 Waterloo built at Sandwich 1872 |
Easter 2016 and on a one day break to Great Yarmouth we had the fortune to visit a preserved Steam drifter that is moored on the towns river quay. The Lydia Eva, registered YH89, was built in 1930 and after acquisition by the Maritime Trust in 1971 she was restored to her original condition. The ship is fully functional and occasionally undertakes day trips out to Lowestoft where the general public can become part of the crew and undertake all the functions entailed by a steam powered ship At the present time she had just undergone some extensive and costly repairs to her boiler. The boiler itself is huge, over double the size of that used in a railway steam engine. The company of crew-mates who were on duty on this occasion were very friendly and informative and if one is passing through this town I would highly recommend taking some time out and visiting this piece of living history of Great Yarmouth's illustrious herring fishing fleet.
This visit got me thinking. My dad had a photo album dating from 1948/1949 which was the result of at least two cycle tours, probably undertaken as part of the Irchester Wheelers Cycling Club. A section of this was dedicated to 'August 1949 Great Yarmouth Sea Studies' and contained a variety of shots of the ships at Great Yarmouth. I was hopeful of finding a shot of the Lydia Eva but unfortunately none could be discovered although there are many which certainly appear to be sister ships to the Lydia Eva, built in the same style and, without doubt, old steamers. The photos are well worth sharing.
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| YH 263 Steam drifter Kitty George Built 1913 |
These steam powered ships are awesome to say the least. Pay a visit to their engine room and one can see the valve gear in its full glory. The boilers are huge with two fireboxes and I think I am correct in quoting 140 steam tubes. It takes 90 tons of coal to get her going and I forget exactly how many gallons of fresh water but it takes a crew 6 hours to hand pump it into the boiler in order to fire her up. One can hardly imagine the heat, the sweat and the conditions in this engine room with the boat pitching and rolling. It must have been one hell of a job by these hardy Norfolk fishermen.
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| The Lydia Eva fire boxes and boiler |
Quite what fascinated my dad about these boats is unclear. He was a steam engine enthusiast so maybe there is a clue. Even so, these pictures are a fascinating insight into a little bit of history of the Great Yarmouth drifters.
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| Unknown ship - probably a diesel powered - entering the river at Great Yarmouth |
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| YH217 Frons Olivae, hired drifter, built 1916, served as a minesweeper in WW2 |
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| Entrance to Yarmouth harbour |
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| Camping site Yarmouth |
There is no record of the camp site they stayed at and there are very limited clues although the buildings in the background do look somewhat industrial which may point to somewhere along the South Beach Parade. With the pictures being predominantly of the river mouth and the beach scenes depicting groynes this does fit in the assumption of it being South Parade. Sadly, the OS maps from the 1930s -1950s offer no clue as to where the camp sites are located - maybe this was not even an official camp site.
However, an archive article from the EDP newspaper does show one particular photograph from 1956 that is captioned with 'A wide selection of canvas structures adorns the foreshore overlooking the beach at Yarmouth' . This is certainly easier to place, and is undoubtedly the South Parade. With the tents jambed in as they are, the scene is reminiscent of my dads photo. With this evidence I think it is a safe bet that this is the same location as my Dads photo.
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| EDP archive photo |
It is also interesting to note a car, or maybe a van, in the tours camp site picture. Whether this was part of the cycling tour retinue is unclear. The bike that my dad rode was a fixed gear Dawes racing model. It would have been rather cumbersome to have loaded camping gear onto this although I have recollections that he did have a pair of leather panniers that could be fixed to the bike. Even so, I struggle to understand how these could have carried such old style ridge tents, so maybe the car was to transport the gear. Maybe someone out there with old family connections to the Irchester Wheelers has more information.
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| The Dawes fixed wheel racing cycle |
More Yarmouth Photos
Back to the photos from Great Yarmouth, and we continue with a shot of two ships heading up river,
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| Yarmouth fishing boats |
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| August 1949 - Yarmouth Sea Studies |
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| August 1949 - Yarmouth Sea Studies |
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| August 1949 - Yarmouth Sea Studies |
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| August 1949 - Yarmouth Sea Studies |
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| August 1949 - Yarmouth Sea Studies |
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| Seaside shot with groynes which point to somewhere along South Parade - looks like a thumb got in the way of the lens! |
And finally
And finally back to the present day Lydia Eve which is open 6 days a week from 25th March to End of October, plus every Bank Holiday Monday. - more information can be found from http://www.lydiaeva.org.uk/
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| 2016 the preserved Lydia Eva |
References
- Eastern Daily Press article From the archive: The holiday camps and campsites along our shoreline - http://www.edp24.co.uk/features/from_the_archive_the_holiday_camps_and_campsites_along_our_shoreline_1_4186362
- The Lydia Eve website - http://www.lydiaeva.org.uk/
