Ray Lucas: Shorne in the 1950s

At the time I used to go to Shorne Woods, all during the 1950’s, I lived in Taunton Vale, there were five of us that used to roam everywhere and the woods was one of our haunts. To get to the woods we would cut across the Warren, in Valley Drive and then the airfield, which is now Riverview Park Estate, this brought us to the footpath on the East side of Thong Lane, next to Cheyney’s Cottages and then take the footpath from this footpath which took us right up to where the clay extraction was taking place.

The whole area was like a ‘moonscape’, no vegetation of any sort, just a gigantic scar in the land. Although the extraction was in full swing at this time the number of men working there must have been really few as we rarely saw anybody at all. This was a good place to go ‘bird nesting’ for lapwings eggs as it was so open.

I remember the conveyor belt quite clearly, it was about a metre high and a metre wide, which was a convenient size for us to climb over. The conveyor belt was moved from time to time, I assume that this was so that it could be erected to where the extraction was taking place at the time. Strangely I don’t remember seeing the excavating taking place, or how the clay was transported to the conveyor. I can also recall the railway line but again not the engine or wagons that would have run on it. A friend of mine has the same thought but can remember the rail line going into a building.

In between where the visitor centre and the fishponds are, there was another pond, which is no longer there, that we used to go swimming in.

There was also a pond where we used to go fishing for carp. That had a brick sluice, from what Trevor has told me I think this is actually Randall Bottom pond, although we used to call it ‘The Secret Pond’. It always held water, which is why it had fish in it but one year it started drying up and we could see the carp swimming about and eventually stripped off and went in and caught some really big carp that we took home to eat, conservation wasn’t heard of back then so we thought nothing of it.

There is a pond, just north of the park that we also went fishing in, this belonged to Len Hales, the farmer and he would throw us out if he caught us there.

Being quite young at the time I didn’t really take too much notice of what was around us but one summer we built a wooden shelter in the middle of a massive Rhododendron, that were very prevalent in the park, we cut our way in so that we and our ‘hut’ couldn’t be seen. One day, while roaming round the clay works we went into the workman’s hut, there was nobody about as usual and ‘borrowed’ their pot bellied stove and took it back to our camp, we had it for quite a while before the workmen found our camp, took back their stove and burnt our hut down.

The head gamekeeper for the Darnley Estate in the 1950’s was Albert Court who lived in ‘The Mount’ in Ashenbank Wood, later on he was replaced by Tony Graves.

(As told to Trevor Bent in October 2010.)

 

 

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My Gran and my Mum

Emma Saxby was my mum.  She was born on the 5th May in the year 1883 at East Peckham, her mother was Elizabeth Saxby formerly Master.  Her father was William Saxby, a sweep.  When she was a child she lived in Laddingford, Yalding.  She had one brother called Percy.  She often spoke of him (although there were about nine of them altogether).

Gran and Percy

Getting back to Percy…one day he took a pellet gun and shot a duck on a pond and took it home for them to eat.  Gran said you could have shaved it, it was so thin.  The next day the police came and took poor Percy to spend a holiday in Borstal prison for a few weeks.  He was always up to pranks.  When he was about seven he would go into the Medway River on his way home from school.  Gran was really fed up with the worry of this so one day she waited in the bushes, sure enough along came Percy, off with all of his clothes and into the river.  So Gran took his clothes, found some stinging nettles and called him out.  She then made him run naked all through the village and every time he stopped she touched him with the nettles.  This put an end to his trips in the river.

One night they all went singing carols, when they went to the Baker’s shop he was very kind and said if you sing well I will give you five shillings, which he did.  They came away right pleased with themselves.  When they got along the road Percy said ‘look what I’ve got for us to share’ he had pinched a large loaf of bread on his way out.  They didn’t tell Gran, they had eaten it before they got home.

My gran was a little person but you never spoke out of turn to her. I only ever saw her with a large black hat on at all times.  I often wondered if she kept it on at night.  She had a long black dress and button up boots.  I never saw her arms or legs, bare I mean.  Her little cottage was lovely.  There was a small hump bridge over the stream to go into her garden.  I suppose it was more a large ditch.  Her house was covered in passion flowers she used to tell me the story of how it came to be called the ‘passion’.   The flower with the crown of thorns on Jesus’s head, three nails where they put him on the cross and the disciples who were with him when he died.  I thought Gran was very clever.  She used to take medicine, everyone those days came in a little bottle, it looked like red water.   She said to me it tastes like poison. I would be very clever and say ‘have you ever tasted poison Gran’ she would say ‘no my girl but it couldn’t taste worse’, so once again I was put back in my place.

Her lavatory was right down the bottom of her garden, it was a small tin shed with a large hole under a very old wooden seat, the nail on the wall had newspaper cut into squares for use.   When it rained it was so loud on the roof if you didn’t need the toilet before you certainly would then.

There were lots of wild kittens, you could never catch them, they would spit at you but they were very pretty.  There was one shop in the village that sold everything, it was called Brenchly’s.  I never went into it I never saw my Gran go in either. Money was short in those days.

Getting back to Percy, when he was about sixteen years old and getting pretty cocky about himself, he went out in the evening and would come home late.  Mind you the lanes were very dark and very lonely.  He would never be home on time eight o’clock, it was winter so it was cold and dark.  One night Gran was so worried and mad he was very late, so Gran went to look for him.  She put a white sheet on and thought ‘I’ll give him the fright of his life, he will be glad to get home on time’. She hid in the hedge until he came along, he would whistle to make out he wasn’t afraid of the dark.  Just as Gran saw him coming she put the sheet over her head, arms outstretched and did an awful moaning sound.  Percy did no more, he pulled a stick from the hedge which was a bit of an old fence and hit Gran over the head and ran home for his life.  When he got home the others, who were waiting eagerly to find out what happened, said ‘have you seen mum’, ‘blimey no’ he said ‘I’ve just hit someone over the crust’ (which he called head).   When they all went out poor Gran was knocked out cold. I think they were both sorry but Percy stayed home after that until he was really grown up.   Mind you I think he had to change his trousers when he got over the fright of it all.

My Gran had been married twice, her first name was Waghorne and then she married a man called Saxby.  We were never allowed to ask anything grown up.  Before Gran went to bed every night she lay the table with all the things for breakfast, cups would be placed upside down on saucers and a white cloth placed of the top of it all.  She would be up at daylight the next morning.  She would never kiss us or even give us a hug.  I was mostly afraid of her.  We would just have to sit on a chair and be quiet.  I cannot remember Granddad at all.

My Mum

On October 14th 1905 my mum was married. She was aged twenty two and called herself Emily, she did this because everyone had always called her Emily. It was later discovered that she had been Christened Emma. She married John Norton who was twenty five, his father was Thomas Norton.  Mum’s father was William Saxby.  Richard Norton (Thomas Norton’s brother) was Best Man.  Charlotte Norton (Richard’s wife) was also there.  They were married in the church in the parish of Yalding and lived in Collier Street, Yalding for the first part of their married life.

Now I will go back to when my mum was fourteen years old, in those days you did what you were told, there was no asking about anything.  So on leaving school mum went into what they called ‘Service’, which really meant you were a lackey for any job they liked to give you.  It didn’t matter how far away your work was you had to walk there.

Mum was sent to a very large house, it was a very old rambling place and mum had to sleep very high up in an old attic, one other girl, a bit older than mum slept with her.  Very late and very tired that first night up to bed they go.  The other girl said to mum whatever you do, DON’T GO TO SLEEP, mum was dead on her feet, what with the long walk to get to this house then the scrubbing and cleaning all day, she said ‘but I’m very tired’.  ‘Well if you do, they will bury you alive’.  Mum didn’t believe her, but at the same time she wasn’t going to chance it, so the girl said I will take you out early in the morning and prove it to you.  So sure enough early next morning off they go before anyone was about.  They went down the lane into the very old church yard.  Mum could not believe her eyes because sure enough on every tombstone was ‘so and so fell asleep on such and such date.  Not just one but all of them. ‘Told you so’ the girl said.  I think mum thought ‘well I can’t go home or I will be joining them’.  Anyway she stayed there for a few years.

When she left there she worked at the King and Queen pub, which by the way is still there.  She did housework or whatever was needed.  It has got a big window overlooking the street mum said they used to call out to the boys going by.  Then she met John Norton, she would tell me how they walked everywhere, he would catch her when she jumped over the ditches to go across fields.  On Sundays she would meet the landlady of the Chequers pub in Laddingford, they would put on very ‘posh’ hats and go in her horse and buggy to chapel.  Her name was Mrs Burton.  They wore large hats with tulle netting tied under their chins.  Mum really loved it.  The pub is still there.  I will tell you more about that later.

The Chequers, Laddingford

Now getting back to Collier Street, mum lived there quite a few years.   Soon after getting married she had a baby girl named Doris, followed by Gertrude, then Frederick, then Violet, followed by Lillian.  Times were very lean.  Her husband started to get very bad headaches.  There was a very bad epidemic of diphtheria, everyone was losing children, some as many as five in one family.  Anyway Doris became very ill and everyone thought it was diphtheria, but after she died they found it was toadstool poisoning, her little friend died on the same day, they must have eaten them on the way to school, but with so many ill with diphtheria they just presumed it was that.  I suppose they didn’t bother too much in those days, it was nothing when children died.  Nearly everyone had lost one or two in the family.  When you look in the church yard those that could afford headstones you can see just how bad it was. Poor mum it must have been heart breaking.

Soon after Lil was born mum’s dear husband John died.  He had meningitis.  Now she has those children to bring up with no money and no help.  On the day of the funeral Gert and Fred wearing very large armbands had to walk from their house to the church yard, they had to walk very slowly behind mum who wore black ‘widows weeds’, which was black stockings and shoes a large black hat with a very large veil that covered her face and hung all over her shoulders.  Gert was told to hold Fred’s hand very tight.  The coffin was placed on a cart and the cart had rubber wheels, so the only sound was the black horse’s hooves.   By the way, before they left the house they had to go to see their Dad in his coffin to say goodbye.  There was a big jar of lilies in the room to help with the smell, this was tradition.  Curtains were drawn and a lighted lamp left on the table to ward off any evil.   Mum must have been very brave.

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Fort Amherst digging opportunities

We heard from Karen and Keith at Fort Amherst/the Command of the Heights project. Keith Gulvin, who is a trustee at Fort Amherst, has secured funding for equipment for an archaeological group. This means a group of volunteers could continue with digs around the Fort.

If you would like to join this group please contact Andrew (andrew.mayfield@kent.gov.uk) or Karen (karen.francis@medway.gov.uk) for more details.

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Quick update

There is no gathering at Shorne Woods this Thursday (31st May) but next week, we hope to start our project at Owletts…fingers crossed. First stage will be a metal detector survey alongside geophys.

Followed by excavations in July, fingers tightly crossed!

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Donald May: memories of Shorne Woods

Donald May remembers his childhood

I lived in The Cottage, now Merston Lodge, Butchers Hill, Shorne, from when I was born in 1924 until I was called up for the Royal Navy in 1942. [Shorne Parish used to be called Shorne and Merston.]

I haven’t got a lot of memories of Shorne Woods but I did play there as a child. The slurry pit, which was the main clay excavation area, was probably quite dangerous, although not to us. I can remember losing a wellington in the wet clay so it must have been quite bad. The diggers loaded the conveyor belt, which transported the clay to the slurry tank, from where it was pumped to Swanscombe, as far as I know it was a 24 hour a day operation.

We had no fear of being attacked and we roamed wherever we wanted. The ‘Lookout Tower’ was somewhere that we used to go – it was a bit rickety but we still climbed it – without any thought for our safety. I can’t actually place where it was but you could get to it from a track that ran from the Scammells up into the woods. It was built for the Darnley family to watch their son, Ivo Bligh, come back up the river after the victorious Ashes tour of Australia of 1883.

The Scammells is the grass area at the back of Woodlands but I don’t know where the boundaries are, or why it is called the Scammells. There was a pond there that we used to go fishing in, but I think it has since dried up. The gravel extraction started about 1938. They dug out and graded rounded pebbles and sand, never sharp gravel. Later the machinery stood there rusting for many years, into the 1950s or 60s. The army activity was only in the woods around the Scammells. In wartime poles were erected in the woods at the back towards the slurry pit and they had lights on them so that it appeared from the air like an airfield; in other words it was a decoy site.

There was a lake in the woods that we used to go to and I can remember playing with a tin bath in the lake.

I went to Shorne School at the top of Butchers Hill and once, only once, we were taken for a paper chase through the woods. I then went to the Boys’ Grammar School, which in those days was in Darnley Road, before it moved to Church Walk in Milton.

When I was about 12 years old, I used to help the woodman Harry Pepper, who was from Cuxton. He used to arrive in a ‘banger’ or an old van and would light a fire which lasted until the following morning, when more wood was put on it, so that it never went out. Harry cut the chestnut coppice, debarked the poles with simple equipment, split them to make spile fencing and sold the bundles of fence poles on the fencing market. He only cut down a bigger tree such as an oak if the landowner requested it. We helped Harry with the debarking and learnt this useful way of keeping a fire going for days.

In the cottages on the Ridgeway there were no flush toilets and I can remember sewage buckets being collected and put on the local allotments as fertiliser. At the Cottage we had flush toilets, and a cesspit in the garden.

There was a large army camp at the Woodlands Lane end of the woods, it seemed as if another village had appeared. The only regiment I can recall is the Durham Light Infantry.

There are four or five chalk caves to the north of the Shorne/Ifield Road that I believe were used by pilots from the Thong Lane airfield possibly as living accommodation but anyway as a place to shelter near the airfield while they were on call. I don’t think that civilians used these caves. I only know of one bomb being dropped on Shorne and that was in Crown Lane, but there may have been more as I left Shorne in 1942.

One other thing I recall from the Shorne/Ifield Road is the cottage where they kept pigs; it was on the left-hand side of the road, turning left from the Holloway, opposite the old cottage that is still there.

At the bottom of Tanyard Hill there is a tree in the middle of the road that used to be in the front garden of a row of terraced houses, on the left as you go up the hill, but these were demolished in the 1930s. This was where we played bicycle polo with walking sticks as polo mallets.

One other thing that always struck me was that there were five places of worship in Shorne: the Zion Methodist Chapel, Brethren Meeting House on the Ridgeway, St Peter & St Paul Church of England, Weslyan Methodists and St Katherine’s Roman Catholic Chapel.

We used to go down to Queen’s Farm (Houghtons still) in Lower Shorne and camp and shoot rabbits. We met our young friends from Cliffe and they taught me to swim by throwing me into the green and slimy canal.

(As told to Trevor Bent.)

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