Herry's Archives

Herry's Archive Index

2012-01-05T22:25:00.000-08:00

Parents
Patrick Lawford 1914-2002
Annette Lawford 1911-1998
Family History
Lawford Family History
Pugh Evans Family History
Pugh Evans Family History - the Lovesgrove Line
The Powell Edwards Line
Lawford Ancestors
The Drapers' Livery Company
Edward Lawford 1787 - 1864
Edward Acland Lawford and his Descendants
Maternal Grandparents
Sir Arundel Arundel 1843 - 1922
Col AJ Pugh 1871 - 1923
Marian 'Nina' Lady Herbert 1874 - 1967
Paternal Grandparents
John Lawford 1811 - 1875
Capt VA Lawford 1871 - 1959
Pugh Cousins
Brig-General Lewis Pugh Evans 1887 - 1962
Maj-General Lewis Pugh 1907 - 1981
Ruth Stevens Howard 1910-2010
Capt Humphrey Drummond of Megginch 1922 - 2009
Dr Griffith Pugh 1909 - 1994
Uncles
Valentine Lawford 1911-1991
Luxmoores
Luxmoore History
Fairfax Luxmoore
Herberts See also Sir Alfred Herbert
Sir Alfred Herbert 1866 - 1957
Nina Lady Herbert 1874 - 1967
Dunley 1917-1957
Wadwick House
Alfred Herbert Ltd
Lady Herbert's Homes and Garden, Coventry
Lady Herbert's Memorial at Litchfield
Sir Alfred Herbert on Shooting
Sir Alfred Herbert on Fishing
Sir Alfred Herbert's Memorial Service in the Cathedral 1957
The Herbert Art Gallery and Museum, Coventry
The Church of St James the Less, Litchfield
Patrick Lawford's Farming Career
Headbourne Worthy 1934-1938
Litchfield 1938-1946
Danegate 1946 - 1950
Stocks Farm 1950 - 1970
The Shooting Book
Stocks Farm 1970 - 2002
Friends
My Parents' Friends
Friends 1950-1970
Friends 1970 -1980s
Friends 1990s - present
Herry
Early Memories of Home Life
Schools 1949-1967
St Ronan's 1953 - 1958
Winchester College 1959- 1964
Engleberg Winter 1963
Early Social Life 1950-1970
Early Encounters with France
Early Experiences of Banking
The Pubs of our Youth
The Cars of Our Youth
Herry's European Tour 1967
What Did We Wear?
Careers in the 60s
10 Shouldham St 1967-1993
Thomas Miller 1967-2006
Herry's Wedding to Prue Watson 1971
Watson Family
Harvestgate Farm 1971-1982
Ramatuelle and the South of France
Friends 1970 -1980s
24 Edna St 1993 - 1998
Futatsumori Family
Cap Ferrat and Les Azuriales
The Orangery 1998 - present
Swanage and the Dorset Coast
The Family in Sydney
Christmas in Sydney 2006
The Church of St James the Less, Litchfield
New Year in Ireland and London 2008/9
The Family at Christmas in Australia 2011

Family Christmas in Australia 2011

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The Family at Christmas 2011 - Sitting: Prue, Charlotte, Milly, Marijke, Beatrice Allez (Watson).
Standing: Rebecca and Nathan Siemsgluess, Charles (Boodle / Barley), Radha, Thomas Siemsgluess, Christian, Herry, Connie Fung, Edward. (Photo by Fung with Edward's Sony.

The family came together again for Christmas 2011 at Prue's house in Sydney, though sadly Kei and Ayako had to remain in London.

The Family at Darling Harbour 23rd December 2011 (except Radha)

On Boxing Day (26th) we decamped to the Gold Coast where Prue had rented a huge waterside villa at Surfers Paradise and a happy week was spent there and at theme parks, playing golf, swimming and sightseeing. And on 28th December we travelled to Peter Crittle's house at Crabbes Creek to spend a day with his family. Peter is my ex-brother-in-law as he was married to Prue's sister Penny, who sadly died in 2004.

The Crittle Family at Crabbes Creek House on 28th December 2011. Left to right: Jarrod with baby Kiai, Radha, Jamie, Barley / Boodle, Ben's father, Thomas Siemsgluess, Hamish, Herry (partly obscured) Frog, Ben, Prue, Peter Crittle, Catrina Lake, Kizzy, Rebecca, Marijke, Tara, Edward, Nathan Siemsgluess, ?

In the Sully: Alex, Samantha, Sashie, D'Arcy, Charlotte, Milly
Photo by Edward on his Sony

The Powell Edwards Line

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Novington Manor, in the centre in the trees, with Odintune on the left

The Powell Edwards links to the Pugh family stem from Howell Powell Edwards (1827 - 1897), who became tutor to the family of John Evans and Elizabeth Pugh Evans, married their daughter Elizabeth Pugh (1832 - 1873) in Aberystwyth in 1852.

Howell Powell Edwards was born in Llysworney, Glam and went to Jesus College, Oxford and obtained a BA in 1848 (MA 1851). In 1851 he is recorded as a curate in a parish in Newcastle. He later became vicar of Llangattock, Caerleon and retired as Rector of St Andrews and Dinas Powis, Cardiff. They had ten children and their eldest son Howell Powell Edwards (1855 - 1916), born at Llanbadaran, Cards, married Katherine Elizabeth Bonsall (1854 - c1911), daughter of Thomas Bonsall and Katherine Hughes, in Aberystyth in 1881. Howell became a solicitor at Gray's Inn and purchased Novington Manor, an ancient estate recorded in 1258, in 1885 having made his money in property, owning a section of Oxford St. The Powell Edwards family own it still.

Click the heading for some photos from the Powell Edwards archive [to be continued]

Dr Griffith Pugh 1909 - 1994

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Griffith Pugh with his daughter Harriet

Lewis Griffith Cresswell Evans Pugh was born at Cotton Manor, Shrewesbury, Somerset on 29th October 1909, the son of Lewis Pugh Evans Pugh KC. He married Josephine Helen Cassel, daughter of Sir Felix Cassel, 1st Bt. and Lady Helen Grimston on 5 September 1939. He died on 23 December 1994. He graduated from Oxford with a Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery and an MA in Law. He always went by his middle name of Griffith - and was usually called 'Griff'.

Lewis Griffith Cresswell Evans Pugh, physiologist and mountaineer: born Shrewsbury 29 October 1909; married 1939 Josephine Cassel (three sons, one daughter); died Harpenden 22 December 1994.

Griffith Pugh was best known for his contribution to the success of the 1953 British Everest expedition led by John Hunt during which Edmund Hillary and Tensing Norgay made the first ascent of the highest mountain in the world. It was Pugh who insisted on the importance of provision of adequate oxygen and of fluid for the climbers high on the mountain. This opinion was given not from the armchair but from experience on mountains and backed by meticulous scientific observations in the field. It therefore carried weight with climbers, who could be sceptical of scientists whose work was confined to the laboratory.

Pugh came from an old Welsh family; his father had been a barrister in Calcutta. He was a naturally gifted child and had no academic problems at school, cruising through Harrow and then reading Law at Oxford. He would rather have read Chemistry. He emerged with a thorough grounding in Roman Law which he felt was quite useless to him. However, through friendship with a psychiatrist he was drawn towards medicine and returned to Oxford, where he was undoubtedly influenced by the strong tradition of physiology left by J.S. Haldane, recently retired from the staff there. He qualified from St Thomas' Hospital in London just in time for service as a Medical Officer in the Army during the Second World War.

He had a varied war record, serving in Britain, Greece, Crete, Egypt, Ceylon, Iraq, Jerusalem and most importantly in the School of Mountain Warfare in the Lebanon. Pugh, who had some Alpine climbing experience before the war, was an expert skier. He had skied in the World Championships in the downhill and was selected for the cross-country squad for the 1936 Winter Olympics but could not compete because of injury. On the strength of this he was recruited to the Cedars School, where he spent a happy two years training raw troops, many of whom had never been on a mountain, far less worn skis, to become expert mountain troops to oppose crack German forces drawn from the mountain regions of Bavaria. He studied methods of selection, training and load carrying on skis using the simplest of physiological methods.

After the war he found himself at 35 married and with no obvious career. Taking his Lebanon reports with him, he approached the Hammersmith Hospital and was given a house physician job there. Five years at the Hammersmith gave him a grounding in clinicalresearch but the busy multi-faceted life of hospital research was not ideal for one of Pugh's temperament. Fortunately for him, with the start of the Korean war in 1950 the Medical Research Council started a Division of Human Physiology headed by Professor Otto Edholm at its laboratories in Hampstead; Hampstead became the base for Pugh's work for the remainder of his career.

Soon after Pugh started there Eric Shipton approached him regarding oxygen equipment for the forthcoming Everest expedition. Pugh decided that information necessary for the proper design of masks and apparatus would have to be obtained at altitude from acclimatised men. Hence he was included in Shipton's 1952 Cho Oyu Expedition in preparation for Everest. On this trip Pugh did vital studies on the rates of breathing in climbers and on food and fluid intakes, all of which helped in the planning of the next year's expedition. On Everest itself Pugh continued his physiology, now addressing more basic questions about altitude acclimatisation.

After Everest in 1953, Pugh turned to problems of cold. 1956-57 was the International Geophysical Year when Vivien Fuchs and Hillary crossed Antarctica. Pugh was with the New Zealand team, his third expedition with Hillary, working on cold and the hazards of carbon monoxide poisoning in Antarctic tents and huts. At this time the two of them dreamed up the idea of a scientific and mountaineering expedition in the Himalayas lasting nine months, as was common in Antarctica, to study the long-term effects of altitude. This dream was realised in the 1960-61 expedition usually known as the "Silver Hut" expedition led by Hillary, with Pugh as scientific leader. The winter was spent at 5,800m in the prefabricated hut before an attempt was made on Makalu (8,400m) in the spring. A tremendous amount of physiological work was done on many aspects of heart and lung responses to this prolonged period of low oxygen, both in the silver hut and higher on Makalu.

This was probably the high point of Pugh's career, though he went on to do important work on cold and hypothermia. When cross-Channel swimming became popular he worked on how the swimmers avoided hypothermia. He showed that only if you have a good insulating layer of fat can you withstand the hours in cold water. Characteristically he was himself the principal control subject who became hypothermic while his cross-Channel swimmer subject remained warm.

In 1968 the Olympics were at Mexico City at 2,300m and Pugh studied the effect of this altitude on athletes' performance. He predicted correctly that the altitude would increase times for long-distance events but the reduced density of the air would givea small advantage to sprint events. He investigated the deaths of youths involved in outdoor pursuits. Lessons from his work have been learnt by those involved in running these activities and by clothing manufacturers, so that despite the great increasein numbers venturing into the hills in all weathers the number of cases of hypothermia has diminished.

Griff Pugh was in the direct line of great British eccentrics. Anecdotes of his absentmindedness abound. He frequently could not remember where he had left his car parked in London and would take the train back to Harpenden and report his car stolen. Thepolice would eventually recover it. The story that on one such occasion his children were in the mislaid car is probably apocryphal.

His latter years were clouded by a series of accidents which left him considerably crippled. He coped with this disability wonderfully and continued sailing Pelican, his 35ft catamaran, for many years.

James S. Milledge - The Independent
Friday, 27 January 1995

Lewis Griffith Cresswell Evans Pugh (1909-1994), best known as the physiologist on the successful 1953 British Everest Expedition, inspired a generation of scientists in the field of altitude medicine and physiology in the decades after World War II. This paper details his early life, his introduction to exercise physiology during the war, and his crucially important work in preparation for the Everest expedition on Cho Oyu in 1952. Pugh's other great contribution to altitude physiology was as scientific leader of the 1960-1961 Himalayan Scientific and Mountaineering Expedition (the Silver Hut), and the origins and results of this important expedition are discussed. He had a major and continuing interest in the physiology of cold, especially in real-life situations in Antarctica, exposure to cold wet conditions on hills in Britain, and in long distance swimming. He also extended his interest to Olympic athletes at moderate altitude (Mexico City) and to heat stress in athletes. Pugh's strength as a physiologist was his readiness to move from laboratory to fieldwork with ease and his rigor in applying the highest standards in both situations. He led by example in both his willingness to act as a subject for experiments and in his attention to detail. He was not an establishment figure; he was critical of authority and well known for his eccentricity, but he inspired great loyalty in those who worked with him. US National Library of Medicine

Lewis Griffith CressweIl Evans Pugh 1909-1994
Despite the fact that our Honorary Member, Dr Griffith Pugh, never considered himself to be a mountaineer, he made three major contributions to mountaineering and to our knowledge of the mountain environment: firstly, his solution of the problem of 'The Last Thousand Feet' of Everest lead- ing to the successful first ascent in 1953; secondly, his organisation and leadership of the Winter Physiology Party of the Silver Hut Expedition 1960-61 that wintered at 19,OOOft in the Everest Region; and thirdly, his successful investigation into the causes and prevention of deaths in the British Isles due to hypothermia.
Pugh was born on 30 November 1909, the son of a barrister. Between 1928 and 1931 he read Law at New College, Oxford but later changed to medicine and spent a further three years at Oxford before qualifying at St Thomas's Hospital in 1938. Whilst at University he raced in each of the three skiing disciplines and was chosen for the British Olympic 18km cross-country team of 1936, but because of injury could not compete. He also climbed regularly in the Mont Blanc region and the Bernese Oberland.

In 1939 he was called up to serve in the RAMC. Posted to the Middle East, he served in Greece, Palestine and Iran. In 1942 he received a telegram from W J Riddell, with whom he had been a contemporary at Harrow, asking him to join the newly formed Mountain and Snow Warfare Training School at the Cedars of Lebanon. There he spent the next two years with W J Riddell who was in overall charge of both snow and rock instruction. David Cox was Chief Instructor (Rock) and a New Zealander, John Carryer, was Chief Instructor (Snow).

This School had a number of functions: it acted as a leave centre, a training centre for mountain troops and as a survival training unit. Pugh had had no training as an exercise physiologist - a concept that did not exist at that time in the British Armed Forces. Further, there was no gen-eral awareness that different physical tasks need different physical attributes or indeed of the great diversity of human physical capability. He assessed that the instructors at the School had the most appropriate physical char- acteristics and so they acted as yardsticks for the selection of personnel who came to him from all over the Middle East, including the Long Range Desert Group (now the SAS). Only 25-30% qualified for training and Pugh had a special group who could be completely self-contained for up to eight days, ski-mountaineering 20 miles a day. He regularly climbed on skis for 3-4000ft during a 12-hour day and this was continued for weeks on end.

The papers that he wrote during this period were incorporated in a series of Army Training Manuals and, on discharge from the army, he joined the staff of the Post-GraduateMedical School at Hammersmith. He stayed for five years until the formation of the Medical Research Council's Unit of Environmental Physiology (known as the Department of Human Physiology) where he was head of the Laboratory of Field Physiology.

Pugh's involvement with Everest started early in 1951, some months prior to Eric Shipton's appointment as leader of the Reconnaissance Expedition and over 18 months before John Hunt was made leader of the 1953 Expedition. During this period he launched a new era of high-altitude mountain exploration by providing it with a factual, scientific basis. Mountaineers followed what I would sum up as 'Pugh's Laws' to enable the first ascent of Everest and all the other 8000m peaks to be made within the next few years.

In 1957 Pugh was asked by Nello Pace of the University of California to join a physiological team working at Scott Base and associated with the Trans-Antarctic Expedition. He visited the American Base at the South Pole a number of times and did research into the warming effect of solar radiation, into carbon monoxide poisoning in tents and into tolerance to cold. It was here that, with Edmund Hillary, he conceived the idea of the Silver Hut Expedition 1960-61, using polar techniques to spend the winter at 19,000ft examining the stress of altitude on each part of the transport systemofoxygeninhumans. This produced new data not only on fundamental biological mechanisms but also, more significantly, on sea-level patients with heart and lung disease. In addition, by showing that the barometric pressure in the Himalaya was higher than expected, he demonstrated in theory that Everest could be climbed without supplementary oxygen. This theory was proved on Everest in 1978 by Habeler and Messner.

Later, in the 1960s, Pugh was asked to investigate deaths in young people from hypothermia in the British Isles. Because of his knowledge of fatigue in mountains he was able to do this very rapidly in a brilliant piece of research, and so saved many young lives.

Involved in the Mexico Olympics, he predicted correctly that the distance events would be slower at altitude, whilst owing to reduced air density, sprinteventswouldbefaster. Pugh always stressed the importance of field work to supplement laboratory and climatic chamber studies. He preferred to take extreme examples at 6000m rather than 4000m and for months rather than days. He also studied Olympic rather than club athletes.

Pugh was well known internationally and the Eighth International Hypoxia Symposium in 1993 in Canada (the year of the 40th anniversary of the first ascent of Everest) was appropriately dedicated to him in recognition of his work, which has remained the 'Gold Standard' to which others are compared and on which we build.

Pugh's tall athletic figure and bright red hair matched his highly individual style that gathered a garland of legends in his lifetime. With his dry sense of humour and love of life he was always a stimulating companion. His lasting contribution was that he saved many lives and, without self-interest, enabled others to win fame and glittering prizes. He will be remembered by his friends with great affection, amusement and gratitude.

Michael Ward in the Alpine Journal

Children of Lewis Griffith Cresswell Evans Pugh and Josephine Helen Cassel

David Sheridan Griffith Pugh b. 17 Sep 1940
Simon Francis Pugh b. 21 Jun 1945
Harriet Veronica Felicity Pugh b. 19 Oct 1946
Oliver Lewis Evans Pugh b. 24 Aug 1955

Memories of the Test at Whitchurch by June Gracey

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'[Your photograph] was a happy reminder of days fishing at the Mill when Gavin was about 10 years old. Piper came with us each day armed him some breadcrumbs (grandfather's suggestion) to drop in the water and provoke a 'rise' so the boy would not be disappointed and turn into a keen fisherman - which he did. Grandfather left him the Mill and its bit of fishing in his will. Unfortunately living so far away it became impossible to keep after a few years. Gavin could tie a number of excellent flies and was so keen'

Extract of a letter from June Gracey, Sir Alfred's granddaughter, to Herry Lawford 25th July 2010

Click the heading for more photos of this stretch of the Test and of the Mill

Early Memories of Home Life

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Two views of Stocks Farm in 1938

It would seem very strange to my children, but life in the fifties and sixties was very different in a thousand ways to today and much more similar to that lived by previous generations.

There is a marvellous book called 'Scenes from A Hampshire Childhood' by Gerald Ponting in which he describes growing up in a Hampshire village in the 40s and 50s, and which is similar to my own early experiences. Life then hadn't changed that much in the preceeding 100 years. It was only since the late 60s (ie when I was in my early 20s) that the huge changes that are still with us today began to be felt.

Stocks, which we moved to 1950 from Danegate, lay almost two miles outside Meonstoke and had no mains water, electricity or drainage, though there was always a telephone (Droxford 135) which connected to the 'exchange' in Droxford. You could dial 'local' calls, but 'trunk' calls had to be placed through the operator until all exchanges were given numbers (STD or 'Subscriber Trunk Dialling') and one could dial direct. Rather as with postcodes today, something was lost when we no longed had to use names for places when ringing them (eg Flaxman 309).

Water came from a deep well on the downs half a mile above the house and next to 'the cottages', and was raised by a pump which had to run at least once a day (the job of whoever lived in the cottages at the time). On a still day, one could hear the pump start up and chug away and know that if the tanks in the roof of the house had run low there would soon be enough water. The holding tank on the downs was inspected once and the water declared unfit to drink because of animal droppings in it, but despite this, none of us suffered from any illnesses. Mains water arrived in the lane in the 70s and we were connected, but in fact we continued to use the sweet downs water for many years thereafter, an electric pump eventually replacing the old chugger.

Hot water came from a tank in the main bathroom, heated by the AGA in the kitchen. It was a coke-burning type and had to be filled regularly from a heap in the stables, carried in 'scuttles' and poured through a hole in the main hotplate which was normally secured by a heavy plug. The fire needed 'riddling' in the morning and again in the evening and the ash was carried away to be put on paths or the flower beds. It could be set low to burn quietly all night and gave a comfortable warm heat throughout the kitchen and to the rooms above and was ideal for drying clothes. The AGA was converted to burn oil sometime in the 70's, and the job of looking after it disappeared.

There was no mains electricity until the 60s, and we made our own with a huge generator which ran in the stables outside the kitchen. It had an exhaust which discharged black smoke through the wall onto the roadside. It was a bit of a brute to start by hand and one had to be careful - as with the tractors - not to be caught by the suddenly flying handle. It chugged rythymically for hours at a time, providing light and a bit of power (for things like an iron or the wireless and later the television), but there were so few electrical appliances in those days. The house must have been considerably darker, though I don't remember us particularly using candles, except at dinner.

Drainage was to a septic tank in the garden which sometime backed up, necessitating a thorough 'rodding' with a huge set of bamboo and brass rods. A handsome stone lion, now in the garden at Piers's house in Coventry, stood on the main drain cover next to the drive. Sometime in the 60s a larger tank coupled to a deep soakaway was built under the cherry tree in the garden, and our drainage problems diminished as long as we remembered to order the slurry lorry in time. The house still has no mains drainage to this day.

The farmyards and buildings drained into an ancient pond, and as there were chicken, pigs and sometimes cattle in the yards, the water in it was certainly not drinkable, but that didn't stop us playing in it and on it a great deal. We had boats to play with but they weren't as much fun as an upturned umbrella.

The wireless and a wind-up gramophone was until the mid 50's the only entertainment apart from books and comics. I used to 'Listen With Mother' after lunch and play with my toys - a 'Muffin the Mule' string puppet was a favourite - and read picture books such as 'Snorri the Seal' and a magical one about an Indian boy's journey through the Great Lakes. Later, I loved comics and the 'Beano' and 'Dandy' were delivered weekly. Fuff had the 'Eagle', but I never really liked that, even when I got to his age. Perhaps I was scared of 'the Mekon'. The radio sci-fi programme ‘Journey Into Space’ was also so frightening that I had to listen to it with Fuff. I can still hear one of the characters calling ‘Mclain, Mclain......’ into the void.....

The wind-up gramophone had a curious curved hole at the back which acted as the speaker, and one had frequently to change the steel needle which was lowered more of less carefully onto the old shellac recording to play our mainly classical repertoire at 78rpm. Records played with a needle made a characteristic scratching sound which can be heard very clearly in this damaged but beautiful recording of Kathleen Ferrier singing Land of Hope and Glory on the last night of the Proms in 1951. We must have acquired an electric gramophone sometime in the late 50s as I remember Fuff buying the first vinyl LP for it - I think it was 'Oaklahoma' - and later 'High Society'. These were played at 33rpm and were the main source of music until the 7" 'singles' records played at 45rpm arrived. My first 'single' was Cliff Richard's 'Living Doll'.

The toys we played with most were ‘Dinky’ Toys – scale models of cars and in particular racing cars. My brother and I collected them - and he still has nearly 80 models (including mine as he ‘inherited’ them when I grew out of playing with them). We particularly loved playing with them in the ‘Dromes’ at St Ronan’s. But my particular favourite was an battery-operated fork-lift truck, which one could steer and which had forward and reverse gears as well as a lifting platform.

Sweets were a great treat, then as now, but St Ronan’s had the excellent rule that one could only have 16 pieces of sweets a week. The rationing process is also described here. I used to buy mine at the village shop - Cooke’s in Meonstoke - and pack them carefully into a biscuit tin to take to school knowing that unless one’s parents brought you more, they would have to last the whole term.

All of this sounds perhaps mean or frugal, but of course it wasn’t. It depends entirely on your expectations. And perhaps we are now returning to an age when excessive and unnecessary choice and availability disappear – but please don’t take away the internet or my iPhone!

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The Cars of Our Youth

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My Mini Cooper S outside Stocks, with Annette and a Fiat 2300

Cars played an enormous part in our youth; wanting them, getting them, driving them and looking after them. They probably occupy the same part of boys' minds as ponies do in girls'....

I was incredibly lucky in that I could drive on the farm at Stocks at an early age. I expect I drove cars before tractors, but tractors were an early source of fun and as they were far heavier and more difficult to control, one leaned a lot from them. But when I was about ten, Patrick got an old Willis Jeep which was used to run all over the farm. Naturally, we drove it too and loved it. It was started - as in sporting cars today - by pushing a button on the dashboard. I don't think it even had a key. It had four-wheel drive and heavy-duty tyres which mean it could go anywhere - even straight up Old Winchester Hill or along the muddiest tracks. It was open and had no doors and the windscreen could be laid flat on the bonnet, which made it pretty exhilarating to drive. At night, we used to shoot rabbits from it, driving round the fields and seeing their eyes in the headlights.

Then there were tbe farm cars - mostly Morris or Austin vans or shooting brakes with animal or pheasant feed and bales of hay in the back. I remember that at one time we had seven cars at Stocks, and they were usually full of dogs. I drove them on the fields of course, but even sometimes on the road as the Stocks Lane was pretty quiet and one soon reached the road up to the 'cottages' on the Down which was private and therefore legal for us to drive on.

My first car, on the lane leading up to the cottages - which can be seen in the background

On my 17th birthday my parents were kind enough to surprise me with a car of my own, which they hid on a lawn at the back of the house. It was a Mini van, new, costing in those day £515 (about £8000 today). There were seats in the back, but no windows (as that was cheaper to tax and insure). I loved it of course and quickly passed my test - and later my Advanced Motorists' Test. It gave me great freedom as my parents no longer had to drive me to and pick me up from friends' houses and parties and naturally I lavished much time and not a little money on it.

Fortunately petrol wasn't a problem, as we used the cheap petrol from the farm pump (it attracted lower duty as it was for farm use) and I didn't drink, so there was really no restriction on my driving. I was soon taking the car with Charlie Skipwith and Tony Ashforth to Torquay (where Charlie was working in an hotel), on summer holidays to stay with the Courtaulds in Polzeath and also to Wales, where my brother Fuff and his wife Belinda had bought a farm.

I don't know when the Mini van disappeared, but in my first year at university, I drove a Humber Super Snipe, which was somehow surplus to requirements at Stocks. It was wonderful for transporting large numbers of friends around but it of course I wanted something a bit sportier, and my parents were kind enough to get me a Mini Coper S. It came from the famous race car garage of Jan Oder - Janspeed - at Downton near Salisbury. [Click here for the fascinating story of Downtown Engineering and Janspeed]. I had a 1100cc 'S' - an unusual engine size developed by the firm. I remember racing Nick Duke and Charlie Skipwith (in Nick's hot 1500cc Anglia) back from Downton in it. It was originally green with a white top, but I had it resprayed white with a black top. My mother kindly gave me a special racing seat to put in it, and much time was spent at Laddie Taylor's Garage in Droxford where Graham the mechanic was induced to coax the last drop of power out of it. It was this car that I up and down to and from London when I was at university and which took me to the White Horse during the holidays, with an early portable 45rpm record player on the back seat. I even did some light rally driving in it and entered a Brands Hatch open day when one could drive round the racetrack and frighten oneself on the corners.

Nick Duke had his hot 1500cc Anglia and, when he was lucky, he could also drive his father's Aston Martin DB5 Vantage. Amazingly, I used to drive it quite often as well, and once even drove it up to London and back. Charlie Skipwith had a 1500cc Wolsley; quite a quick car, but he stuck white racing decals on the side which tended to attract the attention of the local police. We called it the 'racing sheep'. Nick then graduated to a Triumph Stag and a Reliant Scimitar, while Charlie, after borrowing his mother's lovely yellow drophead Ford Consul (which he managed to get stuck on top of a silage heap at Belin Wallis's farm), had a Lotus Cortina (sadly stolen from outside Shouldham St one night) and a Marcos.

I had a couple of non-serious accidents in the Mini Cooper; one in Florence where it was hit by an even smaller Fiat and one in Queen's Gate, and once I had to be towed out of a ditch beside the road at Baddersley when I went to sleep after playing Scalextric all night with Charlie Skipwith and Tony Ashforth. Fortunately I avoided the Itchen, flowing fast along the other side of the road....There was also a bicyclist who ran into it when I edged forward at a traffic lights in Windsor and cut his knee. That time I was accompanied by Frances Duke and we helped the man home, only to have the police become involved because I had 'left the scene of an accident'. However in the early years I was never stopped for speeding and had a clean record (apart from the Windsor accident) right up until my first speeding ticket from a camera in about 2002.

After the Mini Cooper, I had an Austin 1800 - known as 'the landcrab' because it was almost as wide as it was long. Actually a friendly and practical car, it had front-wheel drive and a 'bench' front seat and could carry a lot of people comfortably.

When I got engaged to Prue, it was time to get something a bit more sporting again and we bought Cilla Clemson's Alfa Romeo Spider, a lovely white drophead 'Graduate' model with a superb exhaust note and an eight track tape player. This lasted us very well until we were married and used to borrow Mel Watson's Rover 3500 V8 which he left in England. Thereafter we got first a BMW 2002tii and then a more family-sized 2500, which, when we sold it, ended up on Fuff's farm in Wales with one of his girlfriends.

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A Short History of Tractors in Hampshire

2010-01-19T20:45:00.000-08:00

For a boy, growing up on a farm was heaven, as it meant having access to all the farm machinery - and being allowed to drive the tractors.* Before the arrival of tractors, all large farm implements such as ploughs or binders were horse-drawn; the only machine capable of moving being the enormous and extremely heavy steam engine, which was generally used in a stationary location to power thrashing machines and mechanical loaders. Tractors only appeared on British farms in the 1930s, and Patrick recalled going up by train from Litchfield to collect one and drive it back to the estate, where the many men then employed to work with the horses must have eyed it with some apprehension.

My earliest memories of tractors was of a dark-blue Fordson which arrived at Stocks when we did in 1950. It had to be started by hand, with a swing handle which could whip back viciously if left engaged after the engine had caught. There were two fuel tanks, one for petrol, which was used to start it, and one for TVO (tractor vaporising oil), which it ran on. These had to be switched over manually at the carburettor when the engine had warmed up. It need careful use of the choke and the throttle (a simple pull wire held open by teeth) to get it going at all. It was just possible to start it alone by running round from the handle at the front as soon as the engine caught and juggling with the choke and throttle, but it was usually a two-man job. There was of course no power steering and the clutch and brakes were very heavy. The brakes in particular were 'slewing brakes' which could be applied on one back wheel alone to help turn the tractor quickly at the end of a furrow. Although we also had the little grey Massey Fergusons, a caterpiller and even, at one point, an odd orange Minneapolis Moline, the Fordsons were the main workhorse. Later, diesel Fordsons appeared, which had electric self-starters and power-assisted steering. The early diesel engines were made by Perkins and while idling made a strange and satisfying 'meringue-meringue' sound which my brother Piers and I used to imitate incessantly.

I was allowed to drive tractors as soon as I was strong enough and loved doing so, so much that by the age of eleven or twelve, I was doing a share of the 'corn cart' at harvest time - driving the tractor alongside the combine (harvester) while the corn was unloaded by elevator into a trailer while on the move. One then sped back to 'the pit' beside the dryer, backing up the trailer and emptying it before racing back to pick up the next load - before the combine's tank was full again. There were no cabs, so one was at the mercy of the elements, but the feeling of being in the middle of a great field when ploughing or cultivating, with the sky overhead and only the gulls for company, was marvellous. For accuracy, I was never able to plough, an art which involves considerable skill and at which John Spreadbury and later his son Andrew excelled, winning ploughing matches thoughout Hampshire for years. Similarly, I never drove the combines (except to try them) as this too needed considerable experience and their cost (at nearly £100,000 - a huge sum in those days), made them too valuable to leave to a boy.

Soon tractors became highly sophisticated, with air-conditioned cabs and all manner of comforts, such as wireless. But something important was lost when we could no longer feel the elements as we worked on the fields. And of course the curse of safety now prevents anyone under the age of 15 even riding on a tractor.

*Tractors have arguably played one of the most significant roles in modern life, contributing to the move of millions from the land and creating the dustbowls of North America through indiscriminate and repeated ploughing (and the ignoring of traditional crop rotation). A most interesting history of the use of tractors and their sociological and environmental effects is included in the otherwise marvellous comic novel “A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian”.

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Consumption in the 60s

2010-01-19T10:01:00.000-08:00

There has been an incredible change in spending and consumption habits since the 1960s.

In our teens in the 60's we hardly ever ate out. Almost all meals were taken in our own or other peoples' houses. There were few restaurants and they were only used for special occasions. Pubs only rarely served cooked food. A 'ploughman's (a bread roll, cheese and pickle) or a scotch egg was about the only thing available to eat. So if one didn't meet at someone's house, you ate first and then met up at the local pub and had a couple of beers (pubs didn't then serve wine). I didn't like beer or any other alcoholic drinks, so I drank coke.....but as there were no drink-driving laws in those days, drinking in any event wasn't a problem.

In our late teens our main expense was petrol, but that was cheap and our cars were in any case small - almost always less then two litres (see The Cars of our Youth). My Mini and later Cooper S used relatively little petrol and I was anyway blessed by being able to fill it up from the farm petrol pump! Charlie Skipwith had sporty Riley with a white racing decal on the side. Nick Duke had a finely tuned Ford Anglia maintained by the Duke's firm's mechanics and of course 'free' petrol. So our outings to the White Horse in Droxford were pretty tame affairs and we always made it home in one piece (Charlie lived at Studwell House next door, so he had no problem).

Even at university, when I still didn't drink, an evening would be spent with friends in a pub, with a refectory meal or sometimes egg and chips from 'German Edie's' as a base and little spent on either. My main expense then was the drive up to London to see my girlfriend Penny, and buying food which would then be cooked in her flat.

We had jobs from the late 60s but lived at home or in our London flats where we cooked at home almost every night (pork chops and dried Surprise peas or a Fray Bentos steak and kidney pie in Piers's and my case - ...) . We rarely ate out in London, although we occasionally went to The Pot in Earl's Court or San Frediano in the Fulham Road. The great restaurant revolution was only just beginning. Robert Carrier's in Islington opened around then. Before that, if one wanted a very good meal, almost the only place to go was Wiltons in Jermyn St.

Later on, business life involved quite a bit of entertaining and being entertained, but at a fairly modest scale and cost. The priciest places were unofficially 'off-limits' or actually banned under the firm's guidelines. No one ordered ever ordered champagne or high-priced clarets. It would have ruined our reputations and our prospects to be thought over-indulgent or wasteful of the firm's money.

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June Gracey

2010-01-19T07:24:00.000-08:00

Gladys Hollick (Sir Alfred's eldest daughter), Arthur Hollick, June Vapenik (nee Hollick), Gavin Vapenik, Ian Hollick, Lady Nina Herbert and Sir Alfred Herbert.

June Gracey, nee Hollick, formerly Vapenik, was born in Leamington in 1920, the eldest daughter of Arthur and Gladys Hollick. Gladys Hollick was Sir Alfred Herbert's eldest daughter by his first wife, Ellen Ryley. June had a younger brother, Ian, who died in 2004.

June married Capt Milo Vapenik in 1941 and had two children, Gavin (1943) and Jane (1950). Capt Vapenik died and June was married again to Dr Nigel Gracey. They lived at Swalcliffe Manor, Banbury before moving to Jersey.

June was very close to her grandfather and has kept many of his writings and effects, including a large bronze bust presented to him by the Institute of Engineers.

Sadly, despite being very fond of Coventry and Hampshire, she isn't well enough to travel.

Memories of Valentine (Nicholas) Lawford

2009-11-10T14:29:00.000-08:00

Dear Herry:

At a dinner last night I found myself recounting those amazing years I spent knowing Horst and Nicholas in Oyster Bay. There's a Nor'easter battering Manhattan, so things are quiet so I thought I'd see what Professor Google had to say . . . and that's how I found you. I've tried to respond through your website, but I couldn't get past Outlook Explorer, so am sending this GMail to GMail.

I had taken a small getaway cottage in Locust Valley and met them at a party given by flower designer Barry Ferguson. "Dear Boy," said Nicholas at some point, "you don't know a soul out here. Come to Sunday lunch tomorrow." And that's how I met Greta Garbo.

So began three years or so of many chatty dinners -- sometimes at home, other times at Burt Bachach's and often at a favorite joint called Wall's Wharf in Bayville right on Long Island Sound. I don't recall how many dinners there were, but I'm thinking it was, gulp, fifty at least. Usually it was just Horst, Nicholas, myself and a friend of mine, Robin Roosevelt.

I certainly don't need to tell you, but it was always fun and fascinating. Horst was, shall we say, more "visual," but Nicholas could take you into other worlds. There was never any sense of name dropping or showing off, just an inside view of a world long gone. Once I wanted Horst to threaten to sue Madonna for failing to license his Maidenform photo in her Vogue mucic video. Then there were various authors who came to call for bios on Noel Coward and, do I have it right, Stephen Tennant.

And now, that world is long gone.

Robin and I had dinner with them on a Sunday night when Nicholas mentioned he was going to have some simple procedure at North Shore Hospital. Horst said the problem was because Nicholas ate too many nuts. We were to have dinner at Barry's house a few days later until he called with the report of Nicholas's Shell Fish Dye reaction. I thought these dinners would go on on on, but no. It was over.

I just wanted to share with you these few memories of one of, in retrospect, one of the greatest influences in my life. He mentioned you and said we should all get together sometime. When next you're in New York, or I'm in London, let's do just that. I'd like to make a toast.

My best,

David Osterlund
November 2009

An Aesthete's Lament said:

I just spotted your blog today and am rereading Mr Lawford's memoir. Once long ago I spent the loveliest afternoon with him and Mr Horst, at their delightful house in Oyster Bay, and was stunned by your uncle's enormous charm. He was a lovely man. And a damned good writer.

November 2009

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Tony and Marjorie Powell Edwards

2009-10-30T23:46:00.000-07:00

Tony and Marjorie Powell Edwards at Novington Manor with Annette and Patrick and Pat Tetley

Marjorie and Tony Powell Edwards lived at Novington Manor, Plumpton, Near Lewes, East Sussex. The Powell Edwards family had owned the estate since 1885.

On 15 October 1946 Captain Ivor Howell Powell-Edwards, known as Tony, who was born in 1909, married Marjorie Raphael of the Raphael banking family. He had previously married Vivien Nicoll in 1933 and had two daughters with her. He died in the Brighton area on 30 September 1979 aged 70. Like his father he was a soldier. He served in the Irish Guards from 1928 to 1932. He retired in 1932 as a Second Lieutenant. Then he went on to the Reserve Officers list and was promoted to Major. In WWII he served in Norway, North Africa and Italy. He was wounded twice.

In 1956 Marjorie organised dances for her two step-daughters; Antonia who married Ian Joicy Dickinson in 1957, and Virgina who married Alec William Gordon in 1960 (ref: The Times).

Tony’s father was Herbert Ivor Powell-Edwards (1884 to 1946). He was educated at Winchester and Oriel College, Oxford. He served in the Army for two decades and was awarded the DSO at Gallipoli. In 1927 he became a Lt-Colonel. Like Richard Raphael, Marjorie’s father, he was a good cricketer and played for Sussex. In 1921 he wrote a history of the Sussex Yeomanry. He was Chairman of the East Sussex County Council from 1934 to 1937.

Rosemary, Marjorie’s sister, married her cousin Henri Raphael, on 28 June 1950. He had been awarded a Croix de Guerre and died in 1959. Rosemary died on 2 October 1972. Her addresses were given in the Times as 10 Rue Benouville, Paris 16, and Flat 3, 76 Sloane Square. A daughter called Marguerite was born in Kensington in 1953.

Edith Rosa Raphael, the mother of Marjorie and Rosemary, died on 16 March 1962 and was cremated at Golders Green.

Marjorie Powell-Edwards died in the Brighton area on 6 October 1987 aged 79.

[Details supplied by Dick Weindling, who's father Marjorie helped escape from Vienna in 1939, a fascinating story]

What Did We Wear?

2009-09-24T23:10:00.000-07:00

Herry and Piers with Patrick in the orchard at Stocks c.1955 with Danny the spaniel

For the first ten / twelve years I doubt that I paid much attention to what I was wearing. Early photos show me in shorts, and we certainly wore shorts at St Ronan's (1953-1958), though I think that we may have been allowed into long trousers as we turned twelve. I can remember my delight, though, on getting my first pair of proper football boots - made by Adidas - instead of the heavy round-toed boots that we wore in those days. But 'PT' shoes were still plain white plimsoles and we had to wear a grey felt 'squasher' hat outside in summer.

I became more interested in clothes when at Winchester (1958 - 1964) where the early fashion was for 'drain-pipe' trousers. I had mine taken in to a ridiculous 13". I can also remember getting green and black check jacket and some 'oxblood' shoes at Basticks, the best of the local high-street shops (and coincidentally owned by the family of Richard Froomberg, who would later open Grey Flannel where I bought most of my clothes from the 1980s onwards). Here too we moved from plimsoles to much coveted 'Green Flash' gym shoes.

It was at Winchester that I developed a liking for black, wearing a black sweater and a black silk knitted tie for many years. The tie even came with me to the early days at Millers.

In my late teens / early twenties I became resolutely fashionable, at least at parties, wearing Mr Fish shirts and sometimes an orange silk cravat.... but the best was a superb velvet DJ from Blades, which had straight cut velvet trousers with a silk stripe. I never saw another one like it. There is a good description of the clothes and tailors of the day in David Mlinaric's piece on the V&A website here. I also had some suits made by a tailor in Winchester - Mr Thornton - that were less successful as he didn't know how to cut good crisp shoulders. I had one tight grey suit with a double-breasted waistcoat from him and wore it on a business trip to Yugoslavia with Bill Birch Reynardson, prompting him to comment laconically 'Il faut souffrir pour etre belle'....

I would also sometimes wear a short fur coat with wide shoulders of my mother's; something that was not unusual at the time. Our friend John Rendall for instance was often seen in fur and always wore snake-skin boots.

Arriving at Millers, I affected Turnbull & Asser shirts, often in the bright colours of the day. I can remember Frank Ledwith looking disapprovingly at a brick-red shirt and saying 'You'll never get onto the Baltic (Exchange) in that' - but my suits were less flashy, coming mainly from Moss Bros, though they concealed some incredible linings. I had one black silk suit which had a canary yellow lining and to my shame, I made the mistake of wearing it at the 21 SAS passing out ceremony where, as the 'Best Recruit' I had to march up to collect the cup, turn and march back. I can still remember the looks of amazed horror on the senior officers' faces as I turned sharply after my salute, sending my coat-tails flying......

My colleagues at Millers - particularly Christopher Bird - affected suits by the likes of Douglas Hayward. However, Christopher would grow rapidly tired of his suits and more than once I was deputed to return one to the tailor, who in those days took them back with good grace, even though they had clearly had a couple of week's heavy wear!

In the 70's, at Harvestgate, I would wear polo-necked jerseys and a corduroy coat which Patrick bought for each us from Dingles of Plymouth.

I also frequented Piero di Monzi in the Fulham Road and occasionally bought his rather smart ready-made suits. They usually had hairs on them from Piero's beautiful weimaraners which lounged around the shop all day. I have a grey cashmere overcoat from those days that I still wear occasionally.

Thereafter my clothes became less fashionable but I still had my shirts made, sometimes in Japan, where the tailor at the Palace Hotel turned out some good ones. In those days the yen was nearly 1000 to the £, so they were comparatively inexpensive. Later I would have my office shirts made in India, most of which I have still. For years my suits still came from Grey Flannel, made to measure in Italy, but slowly even that pleasure was replaced by the largely stock items that I wear today.

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Careers in the 60s

2009-09-09T09:31:00.000-07:00

Setting off on a career was different in the 60s, and the concept only applied to men. When the boys left their (single-sex public) schools, one or two went to university, but most did not. Those with connections to the land went to Cirencester (like my brother Fuff) while others joined their father's businesses (Nick Duke and James Duke and Sons) or followed their father into the navy (Johnny Cooke). One started his own successful fishing business (Ian Hay and The Rod Box) and another became a restaurateur (Charlie Skipwith and Cobbetts).

School friends at Winchester were all destined either for the City, the services or one of the professions - and mostly went to university first, not to learn anything in particular, but to have a good time. Oxford was favoured because of the school's links with New College. Interestingly, absolutely no one went into the sciences, manufacturing or engineering, though one or two brave souls went into IBM.

None of the girls went to university; instead they went to finishing schools like Doina in Switzerland and Daisy Martinucci and Signorina Signorini in Florence - and some did the season. Afterwards - or instead of - finishing school, they (eg Penny Hitchcock / Cenci) went to secretarial school, the favoured one being Miss Sprules's (Miss VM Sprules and Miss Aristea Glyka) above Barclays Bank in Winchester. A few (eg Belin Wallis / Martin) went to Miss Balfour Barrow in Parchment St. Thereafter they took secretarial jobs in London, and shared flats. Publishing was a favoured job; poorly paid but socially entirely acceptable. But the idea was to get a good husband, not to work for more than the time taken to find one. 'Work' was bringing up children, looking after a husband, sometimes joining a charity or doing a part-time job for pin-money, gardening and looking after the house. Above all the family came first, and family meals were sacrosanct.

Consequently, my generation grew up with the men in some sort of career or business, while their wives stopped work as soon as they got married or in a few cases, when children came along. There was no thought of any other arrangement, and family life therefore followed the traditional pattern of our parents.

Everything began to change in the 70s and particularly in the 8os.

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Miss Sprules's Secretarial Academy 1933 - 1994

2009-09-06T02:40:00.000-07:00

Miss VM (Violetta Maria) Sprules was a teacher at one of the first secretarial schools in London and had as her student, Miss Aristea Glyka (born 1914), who had been educated on the continent and spoke both French and German. When in 1933 Miss Sprules decided to set up on her own, she invited Miss Glyka to join her and they began a secretarial college teaching typing and shorthand. The first school was in Victoria and had five pupils. During the war they evacuated to Oxford and the school had its premises first in an old rectory and then in The Carfax.

The school became too large for their Oxford premises and when the lease came up for renewal in the 1960s they decided to move to Winchester because it had a similar 'college' atmosphere. The Barclays Bank building had just been built and they moved to the second and third floors of the chambers above the bank and Ms Iris Rigg and Mrs Eileen Sealey joined them, the school remaining there before moving to Northgate in 1987 when Miss Sprules and Miss Glyka retired to Itchen Abbas, having lived as companions since 1933. Mrs Mary Wood had joined them in 1974 and on their retirement she became the school's principal. The school was sold to St James's of Kensington but bought back and Miss Glyka returned to part-time teaching until it closed in 1994. Their students went into many professions and government offices, particularly the Foreign Office and some even went into the Prime Ministers' office.

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Sydney Photo Album Index

2009-09-03T06:05:00.000-07:00

Some the family's photo albums are on Flickr and this page provides an index to them

1960s - Prue's 1960s photos
1970 - Bordeaux Accompanying Charlie and Lucie to the boat to Australia
1975 - Nick's Wedding to Jay Jay at Wickham Church 7th June 1975
1975 - Harvestgate
1975 - Danegate and St Ronan's
1975 - Windlesham Manor July 1975
1975 - Holiday in France with the Martins and Hays Aug-Sept 1975
1975 - Penny and Peter Crittle at Harvestgate August 1975
1978 - March - August Mostly at Harvestgate
1980 - La Lointaigne, Roquebrune with Mel and Beatrice and the Allez's
1980 - Castell Howell - with Annie Sept 1980
1989 - Jess's Wedding

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A Day - Saturday 29th August 2009

2009-08-28T22:01:00.000-07:00

05.53 Wake and rise almost immediately. Ayako wakes too and worries about the cats. It's 12C outside and they come inside as soon as the front door is opened. Koko sleeps on unaware on the floor beside Ayako even as Cecil creeps into the bedroom. He slips up onto the bed and curls up beside Ayako. She's happy and murmurs as she goes back to sleep.

05.55 Open the curtains and make coffee. Fill Koko's water bowl. Bring the coffee back to my study and sit quietly. Pranayama. Prayers of thanks to Baba for me, my family and friends, and requests for help (and today thanks for having helped) those who are ill or suffering. Several Gayatri Mantras. Loka Samasta Sukino Bhavantu.

06.09 Finish prayers and then coffee. Start laptop up (which has been in sleep mode; it's rarely turned off.) Determine to write a day's journal. Watch the light come up (sunrise today is 06.08 according to the iPhone. Sunset at 19.58. The glass is high: 1038). The sun gilds the magnolia leaves and lights the bedroom windows. No rose at my window today.

06.16 Koko comes by and waits to be let out. She always get up up at this time. She does her rounds of the garden and comes in for a biscuit before going back to bed.

6.18 begin work. What's to be done today? Writing, photographs, letters, banking. I must send some photos to June (Gracey). I had sent her some of the visit to Coventry earlier in the week, but now have the Herbert Museum press release photos. She's only had one of me with Ayako and Kei before. I have been trying to remember what i said I would send people from Colin Balfour's funeral. Was there something to send to Juliet (Birch Reynardson / Stewart-Brown)? I will e-mail Bill BR as we hadn't managed to see each other since he dashed off to Les Azuriales.

06.22 The sun is throwing weak shadows on the bedroom wall, but the sky is clear. I see that it's not yet risen above the trees, but it's going to be a lovely day after the stormy autumn weather of Friday (28th August). Koko comes in from the garden and I get her a biscuit from the kitchen. Parky is on a chair watching the cooker where the mice live. Koko lies down in the corridor. Silence.

06.35 I have been writing on the laptop, but haven't yet looked at e-mail or Facebook, or checked Twitter. I had suggested to Lucy Brooke at the funeral that she contact Justin on FB, as she said that she remembered him very fondly and wanted to know where he was and what he as doing, but she said rather dismissively that she didn't have time for it. It's funny how people turn down the opportunity to catch up with old friends that they would love to see or hear from, just because of prejudice against the the medium.

06.40 Look at a postcard from Cecilia and Ham who are back at their favourite place for a break - Morton's Hotel at Corfe. Look at a postcard from June Gracey, thanking me for photos of Dunley. She was shocked by the changes; said that she much preferred the old simple style. It's now rather overdressed.

06.44 Look at a credit card statement. Boodle has managed to use £190 for Kate's mobile phone. She was going to contact us this week but hasn't. Probably too late now as she must be going back to Australia. Also on the statement is Kei's Mac and iPod Touch and three vet's bills. Much higher than usual this month but luckily the payment received from Skandia will cover it all. Put it on Ayako's desk as she uses that card and always reconciles her statement with her credit card slips. I don't (bar looking down them to see if there's anything out of the ordinary. I look now at mine, and see that Radha has put her car insurance on it as she warned me she would. I have 99,000 Coutts 'points' which might be enough for a flight to Sydney, as I have been deciding that I should visit in the autumn - probably in November.

06.53 Look at an invitation from the Friends of the Marlborough Telescope for the National Trust FETTU (From Earth to the Universe) launch party - on 5th September when I shall be away (or only just back). Am already missing Makiko Hiratsuka's Mozart recital that day. Decide to put something on the Journal about both events and write to Marlborough to find out where the Hubble images will be available on the internet (apart from the Hubble site itself, which may well be the answer)

06.56 The sun is still not showing above the trees and it's quite cold; my nose is running despite my having a jersey over my shoulders. Koko has gone back to bed and Parky is stalking about.

07.01 Pay a penalty charge for driving in a bus lane. Have been deliberating whether to challenge it as I can't remember doing so and never usually do, but this was on the day that I was picking up the Lexus in Colindale. I hate these automatic fines for tiny infringements. There's absolutely no mens rea or even inconvenience to the buses. I'm expecting a fine from a mobile camera for speeding on the Hog's Back too, although it hasn't arrived yet. And Ayako has just received one for speeding in Harrow - on dual carriageway with absolutely no danger to anyone or anything else. But I did get them to cancel one sent from a camera last month for 'parking' in Smugglers' Way, when I simply stopped for a few moments to make a phone call from the car.

07.09 A sliver of sun is showing on the bedroom wall beside the magnolia. The laptop makes its usual platform announcement noise to tell me that someone has logged on to Skype. Australia's on line but not yet Kei who is in Sydney with James, staying with Boodle.

07.21 Give up trying to pay the bus lane fine online. The system's not working. The sun is up now, lighting my bookcase. 'Lapin' is waving.

07.22 Kate arrives to take Koko for her morning walk. She's earlier than usual today as she's going later to stay with her mother in the country for the weekend.

07.38 Pay bills and send off papers to accountants. Statement to Y. Sunlight flooding the drawing room. Ayako and the cats are asleep.

07.41 Look at e-mail and other comms. Check spam folder and recover a couple on non-spams as usual. Ramesh in hospital with pnuemonia after an operation on his pelvis. Doesn't sound good. Seeing Wayne Liquorman on 19th Sept who will be closely in touch.

07.48 Check Facebook. Nothing much there and nothing from Sydney. Hide several apps that friends like to use.

07.54. Check Twitter. Zenera has seen Herry the Herrison (heron) and reply. Susan, having recovered from cancer, is quiet.

07.57 Begin to feel like breakfast. But will walk and shower first. 13.3C

08.56 Walk, shower and breakfast over. Took a few photos of my favourite houses in the sun on my walk around the block which covers about a kilometre and takes 10 minutes. Breakfast in the cafe with Ayako and the cats, who sniff at my boiled egg.

09.00 Start Outlook. Check to do list. Have to send out 200+ invitations to the Fine Cell event at the Leathersellers' Hall on 19th November. Also some work to do on charitable donations via the Inland Revenue website and renewal of private health insurance (getting more expensive of course). 16C

09.17 Start work on a letter to June Gracey and an e-mail to Keith Railton, chairman of The Herbert trustees and to Ludo Keston, the CEO (recently joined and formerly CEO of Stratford). We met in Coventry earlier in the week and a press release was out out as a result.

10.30 Complete the e-mail to Railton and Keston and send it.

10.31 Leave with Ayako and Koko for shopping and the Koko's walk. First to the Chinese laundry in Battersea to drop off and collect stuff. I wait in the car while Ayako goes in. She talks to a young man wanting his Gucci suit invisibly mended. We then go to B&Q and I wait while she gets some more Ronseal (she is treating the Lutyens garden bench) and then go and walk Koko in Spencer Park. Glorious bright day and now a little warmer (19C). We are early so there are none of the usual dogs and their walkers there. We usually see Jo, a spry 70 year old with three dogs, but our friend Annick, who was also a regular, had her dog put down a few weeks ago and so no longer goes. (Ayako's painting of Othello given as a present the week Othello died, is here).

11.50 Return and resume writing this journal and the letter to June Gracey. I should have gone to the post office to get more stamps but it'll soon be closed as it's Saturday. But I may have enough.....

12.19 Look at Facebook and see that Kei has reported on her day in Sydney - Fort Dennison and The Rocks. Write a bit on The Sand's End restaurant / pub / cafe that Nicholas and Julian Waldemar-Brown took us to for lunch yesterday. An instant favourite. Reported on Qype and Facebook with photos.

12.22 Resume writing to June. Several photos of Coventry and two of Ivor Pugh that June has asked for and Anthony and Mary Pugh had sent me, to be included. Write descriptions on the backs. June was obviously keen on Ivor when she was young. In one photo of him taken in 1941 he is in uniform; the same year June herself married Capt Milo Vapenik at Stoneleigh.

13.15. Complete letter to June Gracey. Ready for posting but it may be too big to go in the box, so Kate will take it on Monday.

13.20. Lunch in the garden. It's not that warm - it's about 22C, but there's a cool wind. Smoked salmon salad. H. Forman's smoked salmon from Waitrose. it's pretty good. We keep the best - from Partridges at the Duke of York's, for parties.

13.40. Reading. I've just finished book two of the Millennium Trilogy, The Girl Who Played with Fire. They are terrific detective novels by a Swede, Steig Larsson. The third one will be published in English translation in October. Kei has also read the first, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and took the second one with her to Sydney.

In the same vein - and actually how I came to Larsson's books - I love the Kurt Wallender dectective novels by Henning Mankell. And if not those, something by Jeffrey Deaver. But I'm not reading detective novels this afternoon; I'm re-reading one of Eckhart Tolle's marvellous books that are both highly advaitan and also excellent psychology. I will put some excerpts onto my recently begun spiritual journal.

I read The Economist and an old speech by Harry Kacic about the historic misunderstanding after the First World War that led to the creation of a Serb-dominated Yugoslavia. What he had to say then (1991) was very prescient. I never managed to read any Tolle!

15.12 Kei rings from Sydney on the main phone. All well. She tried to get us on Skype but I was in the cafe reading and snoozing in my favourite chair (which the cats have tried to commandeer) and didn't hear it.

15.32. Deal with some e-mails: one from Julian Waldemar-Brown who gave us lunch yesterday, and who I have been helping with his anti-piracy business, Maritime Threat Resolution. Another helping my old prep school, St Ronan's, tracking down old boys. Today is quiet and the flurry of e-mails on piracy and the organising the Drapers' Almshouse outing to Winchester in September, has subsided.

15.43 Drive to the gym, Esporta in Smugglers' Way, listening to Radio Four on the way there and back (about two miles). I work out for about 35 minutes from 4 o'clock (the latest I can go in as I have a 'days only' membership), using eleven machines and some recently recommended floor exercises. It's a bit of a bore, and its a pity to be exercising inside on a lovely day when one could go for a long walk instead, but as I rarely do the latter, the gym keeps me relatively fit. Fortunately I don't suffer from any aches and pains yet, unlike so many of my contemporaries. On Radio Four I usually listen to the marvellousAmerica, Empire of Liberty series by David Reynolds. It's now on my iPhone as a series of podcasts.

16.40 Tea - Earl Grey at my desk. Carrying the bench that Ayako has been painting outside now that it's dry. It looks very well.

16.48 Resume the St Ronan's e-mail. I can point them to George Greenwood, a colleague in the mutual insurance world, Michael Cowdy, who became bursar of one of the Cambridge colleges, Puggy Stephens, whose father ran Bain, Stephens Poole and whose mother had been such a sensation on the tennis court and one of the Saumarez-Smiths.

17.00 Drinks outside. Ayako doesn't usually drink as it upsets her tummy and also interferers with her midnight meditation, but today's an exception. We have a bottle of Two Roads, a lovely South African sauvignon semillon and some Asda rice crackers which are delicious, and talk over the day. The robin comes and feeds on the bird table. Koko sits with Ayako on her chair. I take a photo on my iPhone and send it to Kei in Sydney. Later, when it turns cold, we move so that we are still in the sun. Belin Martin sends an e-mail that I pick up on my iPhone and I ring. We talk about Colin Balfour's funeral and I come inside to send her the photos. We are sorry not to be able to join them on their ruby wedding holiday in France.

18.30 Supper of pasta. A slight contretemps about Mozart!

19.00 Return to writing and Ayako clips the lavender into a huge plastic bag. Get a reply from Ludo Keston and adjust the Herbert website to provide a link to the Herbert's historian.

19.30 Ayako goes for her bath - a candle bath in which no backscrubbing is required.

20.00 Ayako finishes her bath and I retire to the sofa in the drawing room. I have just got a book on Japanese cinema which I thought would interest Ayako (it does) and Kei and I read that. I also have the Economist and the Tolle. Later a murder mystery comes on, chosen by Ayako. I never touch the TV controls and watch whatever she is watching. I usually have my iPhone with me and use it to read and check things while watching. This time though the film is a good one and I concentrate on that.

21.30. Ayako's tired as she's not used to drinking these days, and goes to bed early. I move Koko's bed from her place by the fire in the drawing room to the bedside. Koko follows slowly as it's a little earlier than she's used to.

10.15. Go round the house locking up. Bed. Ayako's already asleep as she's not meditating tonight. I can't massage her back as I usually do. Koko snores slightly. But sleep comes quickly as always.

Sir Alfred Herbert on Shooting

2009-06-12T01:18:00.000-07:00

Sir Alfred Herbert (second from left) at a shoot in 1950

Sir Alfred loved the country pursuits of shooting and fishing. His greatest love was fishing, and he wrote a monograph on the subject in about 1935 which can be read here. He was also a fine shot and particularly loved grouse shooting on the moors of Scotland and the North of England. My father Patrick's Shooting Book also records Sir Alfred as a frequent guest at Litchfield (which of course is the estate next to Dunley). This monograph on Sir Alfred's shooting experience was written in about 1950

Of the three British game birds - grouse, partridge and pheasant - the grouse must, I think, take the first place in his home among the moors and mountains of the North.

The red grouse is a truly wild creature found nowhere else but in these islands and those who are fortunate enough to enjoy his pursuit find themselves surrounded by some of the most delightful scenery in the country.

The grouse may be shot be walking in line (to my mind the least satisfactory way) over pointers or setters, or by driving.

I recall with vivid memories my first opportunity of shooting grouse through the kindness of my friend the late JK Starley. He is was who produced the Rover Safety Bicycle, which, as his advertisements very truly claimed, 'set the fashion to the world'. This machine was one of the forerunners of all bicycles used throughout the world today, and finally signed the death-warrant of the penny farthing, which for many years preceded it.

Starley had rented a moor in Scotland which had a limit of 200 brace. After killing 120 brace he was called away leaving 80 brace still to be shot. I had a telegram from him asking if I would like to take a friend and finish the quota.

Up to that time I had never even seen a grouse, except on the table, so it is easy to imagine the excitement with which I accepted this quite unexpected invitation. With a Coventry friend, William Burton, who was quite a good shot, we caught the night train to the North and arrived at our destination - Garve, on the shores the Beauly Firth - in good time next morning. Here we found comfortable accommodation in the local inn, an excellent innkeeper and a ghillie with a couple of pointers and a couple of setters. The moor was a delightful one within sight of the sea and in three wonderful days of perfect weather we killed the 80 brace and in due course returned from one of the most exciting holidays I can recall.

This was in fact the only time I have shot grouse over dogs and I am convinced that this is one of the most delightful ways of pursuing them. though, of course, it gives scope for only two or at most three guns to take part.

Walking in line with seven of eight guns is less satisfactory. It is very difficult to keep a straight formation, particularly on hilly ground: the young and enthusiastic are continually getting too far jn front, while the older and less athletic members of the party lag behind and the line is continually getting broken.

Driving is a much more complicated business, involving scientifically-sited butts, a well-organised group of beaters and all sorts of other preparations, but it is well worth the trouble and , with good weather and a reasonable stock of birds, it provides shooting at its best. Driving, however has its own particular risk of accidents for the inexperienced or excitable. When streams of grouse are coming from all directions and at all angles and if one has turned round two or three times in the butt, it is quite easy momentarily to lose one's sense of direction. The line of butts, which are not always very conspicuous, may be forgotten for a moment, and is then that dangerous shots at low birds may be fired. As a safe-guard, upright posts are sometimes stuck into the butts at the right and left of the gunner, so that his gun comes into contact with these posts when it has reached the limit of its swing.

For a good many years my nephew, Gerald Herbert and I rented a small moor in Aberdeenshire - The Forest of Birse. A jolly party of us stayed at the Huntly Arms Hotel, Aboyne, where we were hospitably entertained and provided with wonderful Scottish food. When taking a moor I think it is far better to stay at an hotel rather than to take a house, for with a hotel there are no problems of catering and the lady members of the party have a real holiday instead of being worried with all the problems of household affairs.

A party of young and thrifty students used to come out from Aberdeen University to help us with the beating. They camped in a tent on the moor, did their work in first-rate style, and were quiet happy to earn a beater's pay, which in those days was I think, about six or seven shillings a day. But times have changed.

In grouse shooting one is very much at the mercy of the weather, which may vary from extreme heart to quite wintry conditions. On the high ground, gales, fog or even snowstorms may be encountered.

The stock of birds fluctuates within wide limits from year to year from a variety of causes; weather, nesting conditions and good or bad growth of young heather, and the absence or presence of grouse disease. In a goodyear the problem is to kill enough birds to reduce the stock to reasonable numbers. If too many birds are left, one may be confronted next season with an outbreak of disease through overcrowding and lack of food. While we had several satisfactory seasons, we did have one very disappointing one when we were able to have only one day's shooting and that was a very poor one.

During one of my visits to Scotland, my host enquired if I would like to shoot a stag. In his garden was a life-sized silhouette of a stag cut out of a sheet of iron as a target. He lent me a rifle and after a few shots at it I managed to perform satisfactorily. I was taken by the keepers to a wood and posted outside among some rocks. A stone wall ran alongside and I was told that if there happened to be a stag in the cover he would most likely jump the wall in front of me. Then the men proceeded to beat the wood and sure enough a magnificent stag jumped the wall at the exact spot indicated. He caught sight of me and stopped short in astonishment looking straight at me for a moment. Up went my rifle, but it was wobbling so much from excitement that I missed him clean. And that was my one and only shot at a stag. Looking back I am thankful I missed such a beautiful creature.

Now we come to the partridge - a very good second to the grouse. He gives far more widespread sport to many hundreds of people, often quite near to their homes, and thus saves the long journeys and much of the time and expense which grouse-shooting involves. For many years hampshire ran Norfolk and Cambridgeshire very close for partridge-shooting records, but throughout the country (with of course some notable exceptions), the partridge has suffered many setbacks during recent years. in fact we have learned that modern agriculture and partridges do not agree.

We used to believe that the old proverb, 'the partridge follows the plough' was true and so indeed it was when the plough and all other farm implements were drawn by horses and farm work followed its old leisurely routine. Now all has changed and the horse has practically disappeared.

In the old days we could very safely predict that a dry nesting time would result in a satisfactory stock of birds, but now, apart from weather risks, which are always with us, we have to contend with such fatal operations as the making of silage, which involves cutting the silage crops in which the partridges are very fond of nesting, at the very time that the birds are sitting and when very many of them and their eggs are inevitably destroyed.

Now we have also the various noxious and deadly sprays which destroy insect life so essential for baby partridges and eradicate weeds, the seeds of which are another favourite food, while the dressing ofd seed corn with poisonous compounds is a further source of loss.

Even when satisfactory covers are hatched and keepers' faces are wreathed with smiles, we cannot feel safe for one by one the young birds disappear mainly, I believe, because so much insect life which essential has been poisoned. But in spite of all the troubles of the past few years there are some welcome signs of improvement, though it is certain that we shall never see a return to the wonderful bags of past years such, for example, as the following: On a beat not far from Whitchurch, 315 brace of partridges killed in a single day (in this I had the luck to take part); on another beat near Longparish, 198 brace and on only 700 acres and my own beat, 156 brace. These bags were all made in the thirties. On another beat not far away there is a record 530 brace in a day.

Sir Alfred Herbert shooting at Dunley, accompanied by his keeper, Crouch

Vermin, of course, we have always with us. When I first came to Dunley it became a by-word that our main preoccupation was to deal with the 'Three R's' - not reading, 'riting and 'rithmatic, but rats, rabbits and repairs. Rabbits, through myxomatosis, have largely disappeared, and although from a farmer's point of view this is a blessing, they did supply excellent sport for many people, who had no other form of shooting, and particularly to lads in the learner stage.

This superb photo, which appeared in Country Life, is not of Sir Alfred, but of Capt George Brodrick and his gamekeeper Norman Buckingham. Capt Brodrick bought Dunley in 1979 and his widow continues to live there.

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Sir Alfred Herbert's Motor Cars

2009-06-04T23:54:00.000-07:00

Motor Cars by Sir Alfred Herbert. This monograph, the original of which is corrected in his own hand, was probably written in the mid 1930s. The last car he mentions owning - the Lancia Astura 27hp - was being made in about 1935. A copy has been provided to the Coventry Transport Museum

The first self propelled vehicle I can remember was a motor bicycle. The Coventry Humber Co. made some experimental machines of this kind, with two long tubular horizontal cylinders. We were called upon, at the works, to bore out the first of these cylinders as the Humber Co had no machinery that would do the job.

About the same time, a small single cylinder motor was introduced. It was clipped to the front fork of the safety bicycle and drove the front wheel by a friction roller engaging with the tyre. This was probably the precursor of the outboard motor now used for boats. I think the first motor of this type was made by Werner. Leon Bolle, a Frenchman, was among the pioneers of the motor bicycle.

One of the earliest of Coventry's motor builders was the Horseless Carriage Company which started business with great eclat in the old Coventry Cotton Mill; Iden was the manager. This was succeeded by the Daimler Motor Company, of which Colonel Manville, subsequently Member for Coventry, was chairman. Charles Martin, an engineer of great courage and confidence, with Italian and American experience, joined the Daimler Company at an early stage. He now rusticates in the Elysian Fields of Kenilworth and breeds Guernseys.

The first motor vehicle I drove was a motor-quadricycle built by the Enfield Company and owned by my old friend, WS Hubbard of Leicester. It went extraordinarily well and I had a great thrill.

The first car I drove was a small de Dion with engine at the back and with belt transmission. This also belonged to Hubbard.

Then I had a motor tricycle and after that an American steam-driven Locomobile. A multitubular cylindrical boilier, the shell reinforced by coils of high-tensile steel wire, supplied the steam. The boiler, which was under the seat, was fired by a circular burner like an exaggerated gas ring. Before starting, a removable section of the burner was taken out and heated in the kitchen fire. It was put back into postion, the petrol was turned on and vaporized by the hot section of the burner. It was then lighted (with a great bang): in a few minutes pressure was up to 220 lbs. The blazing burner just behid the driver's legs was rather terrifying and unexpected draughts brought the flames a good deal nearer to one's calves than was pleasant.

The water tank had to be filled up every twelve miles, and a rubber bucket was part of the outfit. Naturally it was never safe to take the chance of finding a convenient ditch or pond at precisely twelve mile intervals and so every time water appeared one stopped and filled up the tank.

The engine was a tiny two-cylinder double-acting marine type with link motion for reversing. There was no gear box and the drive was always direct on top. The whole thing was extremely light and beautifully made. Steering was by tiller and was sensitive and correct. The car was almost perfectly silent and delightful to drive. At the foot of a hill you stopped and watched the hand of the pressure gauge gradually climbing up to 220 lbs, then the throttle was opened and the hill rushed, as long as the pressure lasted.

My next venture was a small single-cylinder car built by EJ West of Coventry, with a de Dion engine. Then came another West car with a two-cylinder engine made by Forman, who was, I believe, the predecessor of the present Alvis Company. This car carried two in the front and two in the back in a tonneau, a minute wagonette, with a door at the back.

I had now got the fever and bought from SF Edge a four-cylinder Gladiator built by Clement of Paris. France at the time was definitely leading in the development of the motor-car. She had been building cars successfully at a time when we were limited by the legal necessity of driving mechanically propelled vehicles at speeds not exceeding four miles an hour and preceeded by a man carrying a red flag.

The Count de Dion and Panhard Levassor were among the earliest French engineers to develop the internal combustion engine and in Germany Benz was early in the field.

This Gladiator was really first-rate judged by the standards of its time. Up to now all motor-cars had open bodies. Few of them even had wind-screens making goggles a necessity and weird and wonderful garments: in cold weather shaggy coats, and when it rained a waterproof called a poncho, reaching down to one's ankles. One sat on the cushion in a pool of water, which did not matter much until the poncho began to leak. I got a local coach builder to rig up a canopy for the Gladiator with a windscreen in front and side curtains of waterproof material running on rings - a wonderful contaption but quite useful in bad weather.

Next I got from Edge a four-cylinder 15HP Napier with an extensible hood which clipped to the top of the windscreen side curtains, and a good many elements of a modern car.

Then came a 40HP six-cylinder Napier;a big car holding seven people with an outside seat on the running board for the mechanic. When in a good mood this was a comfortable and speedy vehicle, but it suffered from crank-shaft whip.

A six-cylinder closed car built by the Standard Motor Company came next and then a 20/30 HP four-cylinder Renault. This was about 1907. It was far in advance of its time and gave wonderful service till three years ago when I fanally persuaded a loacl dealer to take it away.

Just before the war I had a 45HP Rolls with a double-purpose body built by Hamshaw's of Leicester. While the body was being built, I drove the chassis with a temporary wooden body of the soap box type and in this form it was the most delightful car I ever drove before or since, having practically no body weight. It was rare to require any gear but at the top, and from four miles and hour to fifty or sixty it was perfect. During the war it was impossible to get petrol enough for a car of this kind and I sold it and dropped back to very modest vehicles: a two-seater Standard with a dickey, followed by a Windsor.

Then the four-wheeled brake was introduced in France and as English makers were rather slow to follow this, I imported an excellent Delage; very satisfactory but badly sprung.

After that my nephew, Gerald Herbert, brought me an early Lancia to try. The independent front wheel suspension made it altogether delightful , particularly on bad surfaces and it sat on the road like a poached egg on toast. Lancia engines were good but never very silent. I have had four or five of these cars in succession. My present one - and eight-cylinder Astura of 27HP - is satisfactory and comfortable. The long chassis has always appealed to me, there is plenty of room for dogs and guns and other impedimenta and a comfortable interval between front and back passengers.

I have always been rather a fogey about speed: forty miles is the limit at which I am driven. my idea of a perfect driver is one who never causes his passengers to look up from what they are doing, whether admiring the scenery, reading, or, as is my frequent practice, dictating letters.

Motor Cars by Sir Alfred Herbert. This monograph, the original of which is corrected in his own hand, was probably written in the mid 1930s. The last car he mentions owning - the Lancia Astura 27hp - was being made in about 1935. A copy has been provided to the Coventry Transport Museum

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Sir Alfred Herbert's Hobbies - Fishing

2009-06-01T23:11:00.000-07:00

Fly fishing in Yorkshire. Photo by Nicholas Waldemar Brown

Alfred Herbert loved the country pursuits of shooting and fishing. His greatest love was fishing, and in the 1930s he wrote a monograph describing his fishing career. It has fascinating descriptions of the rivers he fished and the people he met as well as the places he stayed in, and he gives space to his great fishing friends - particularly Dr FM Haig, Canon 'Tommy' Downing and Dr Hugh Bankes-Price.

FISHING

Like most boys of my age, I started fishing by catching minnows and sticklebacks with bent pins. Afterwards came coarse fishing for roach and perch, but fly fishing did not begin until my early twenties. Then I met Tom Iliffe, one of Dr Iliffe's brothers. He was a fly fishing enthusiast and quickly infected me.

On his advice a blue Mahoe spliced fly rod was bought from James Ogden of Cheltenham with all the rest of the equipment. Tom Iliffe gave me lessons on the lawn. Quite apart from the hope of catching trout, there was a certain fascination in the art of casting and as soon as I got the hang of it I was keen to test my skill on a river.

After a good deal of enquiry Derbyshire was chosen and I found myself installed in the Charles Cotton Inn at Hartington. Oliver, the landlord, was a fisherman and through his good offices I got several days on the Dove, and its tributary the Manifold. These are limestone streams, not so clear as the chalk streams of the South, and more apt to run thick after heavy rain, but with plenty of week which means fish food and that means fish.

I made friends with a great character, one Fosbrooke who knew everybody in the neighbourhood. At one time he had been a water-keeper and in a long life he had accumulated a great store of knowledge about fish and flies. I kept in touch with him for many years.

My first day of trout fishing brought me a wonderful piece of duffer's luck. Fosbrooke took me to the Manifold and set me fishing in a lovely pool at the foot of a weir near the remains of an old Saxon flax mill, called The Brund. For once everything was just as it should be: weather cloudy but fine, water in perfect condition, and trout madly on the feed. Those were the days of wet fishing - three flies on a cast. Fosbrooke had chosen the flies wisely. He showed me all the likely spots for casting and before the days was over my basket was heavy and my heart very light. That experience made me a fisherman. But duffer's luck does not come often, nor last long, and fishing with all its joys usually gives more blanks than prizes.

The Dove below Hartington runs through Beresford Dale, first though meadow lands and then through the Dale itself, between high limestone banks covered in part by turf but with rock always near the surface and breaking through here and there into cliffs and pinnacles.

It was my good fortune to fish the Beresford Dale water for several years. At first my friend Haig and myself had rods on it; afterwards I rented the whole stretch of water. Beresfored Dale had been has been famous for its trout for generations. Charles Cotton, 'the father of flyfishers' lived at Beresford Hall on the high ground beside the river. Every years his friend, Isaac Walton, rode on horseback from his home in London to spend a fishing holiday with Cotton on the Dove. In memory of their friendship, Cotton built a fishing house, which still stands at the head of Beresford Dale. Over the door is inscribed 'Piscatoribus Sanctum', with Cotton's and Walton's initials intertwined. Here they lunched and rested and sheltered, just as it was my own good fortune to do long years afterwards.

Sir Alfred outside Charles Cotton's Fishing House

The Beresford water joins Lord Hindlip's fishing and here I met Ernest Lock, his keeper, who has tied flies for me ever since. He now lives at Andover and has charge of some beautiful water on the Anton for Colonel Ratcliff. He tells me I am his oldest customer for flies and I think this must be true for it is well over forty years since he first supplied me.

I owe much to my fondness for fishing, for it brought me three of my best friends: Dr FM Haig, Canon Downing and Dr Hugh Bankes-Price who, I grieve to say, have all passed away.

Dr Haig succeeded Dr Reed and practiced in Coventry for many years. He will be remembered still with affection by his many old patients in the City. From him I leared what little I know about the art of dry fly fishing, of which he was a past master. He was so thorough, so skilful, and so accurate both in his work and in his sport that we called him 'The Professor', a name which stuck to him until his death.

Canon Downing, known to his friends as Tommy Downing, was curate of Trinity Church, Coventry. Afterwards he became vicar of Knowle, where the memory of his unselfish devotion to his work is treasured by many of his old parishioners.

Dr Bankes-Price was house surgeon at Coventry Hospital, during the time that my second wife, then Mrs Lucas, was matron. When Dr Haig left Coventry for Woking, Bankes-Price bought his practice and when he in turn relinquished it he settled near Lampeter in Wales where he combined doctoring with farming. When he set out for river or field he was always s little anxious lest his patients should think that he was unduly neglecting the practice - so he set forth in his dog cart with top hat and professional overcoat - and groom in livery - all covert. It was refreshing to see the joy with which he discarded all these trappings at the end of the journey and emerged in country suit and cap, his Clumber spaniel slept in seclusion under his seat.

These three spent many happy fishing days with me on many rivers and the memory of them is very dear.

Both Lathkill and Wye are beautiful streams not very far from the Dove. The former is, or was, full of trout, but I never had the good fortune to fish it.

I fished the Wye above Rowsley many years ago: there were then plenty of trout, but when I fished it years after, I found that the brown trout had diminished in numbers and their place had been largely taken by rainbows, which were obviously doing well - quite contrary to general experience.

Now we leave Derbyshire and come South-West to one of the most charming districts in England - the Cotswolds. I began to explore this country quite by chance. Mrs Bankes-Price gave me 'A Cotswold Village' by Gibb, a book which I recommend to all who love the unspoilt countryside. On my motor-tricycle I made expeditions to some of the beauty spots described in Gibb's book and then began to search for fishing.

Cotswold scenery is less wild and romantic than the Derbyshire hills and dales, but it has charms of its own. The main roads are mostly on high ground and the wide expanse of stone walled country, often rather lacking in trees and with few hedgerows, gives the impression of austerity and dreariness particularly in winter. But leave the highways and take the byeways, which lead down to the valleys, and there beside the little rivers you will find lovely grey stone villages set among green pastures and sheltered by groups of beech and elms.

The pleasant 'Glarstershire' speech of the people is dying out thanks to wireless and talkies and to more frequent contact with the outer world, but among the older people it still remains and adds to the feeling of remoteness from the rush and bustle of city life.

Bibury is a typical Cotswold village on the banks of the upper Coln. In the garden of the Swan Hotel there is a wonderful spring of water welling up from the limestone to join the river. It's brightness and transparency are amazing; every pebble can be seen through four or five feet of water.

Before the motor car the village was an oasis of peace and rest and the angler was undisturbed even when fishing from the main street, beside which he river flows. Now there are many tourists, the village inn has doubled, but Bibury still remains a beauty spot. Arlington Row, a group of cottages beside the river, is typical Cotswold architecture at its best. Pictures of it have been hung in the National Gallery, now it is preserved by the National Trust.

We used to stay at the Swan, to fish the Bibury water and one year I rented some fishing higher up the river beyond the village. Here my friend, Bankes-Price and I had a red-letter day. There was a great rise of Mayfly and the trout were feeding madly; a gale lashed the surface into waves and accurate casting was impossible, but no matter where our flies alighted, a trout was waiting to seize them. I am afraid to say how many fish we caught, but I think over twenty.

At Bibury Arthur Severn, a great fisherman and a fine sportsman had a Hatchery for many years and sent trout all over the country. It is great fun to see his huge breeding fish at feeding time; dashing madly at the food and rolling about like porpoises.

Some miles below Bibury the Coln runs through Fairford, another pleasant village, but on a main and rather busy road. The Bull Hotel has a length of beautiful water, plenty of trout but uncommonly hard to catch. They rise freely but they have seen many artificial flies and felt them too and have acquired great discrimination. I have fished here often. I remember Mr Carbonel, once vicar of Fairford, who was master of the angler's art and who rarely went empty away. There is a fine church at Fairford with wonderful stained glass windows - rather terrifying to evil-doers.

And then I discovered the dearest of all little rivers, the Leach, which rises among the downs and runs through Eastleach to join the Thames at Lechlade Mill. Eastleach was a much larger village in the past; there are actually two parishes Eastleach and Eastleach Turville. The two churches are hardly a stone's throw apart and the custom was to hold morning service in one and evening service in the other.

Harry Penson was a typical Cotswold farmer, his house and garden were close by the river which ran through his farm. I rented his water and remained his tenant form twenty-five years. Gradually I was able to rent adjoining stretches from Barton, George White, Luker, Arkell an Lord de Morley so that at one time or another I had fishing rights on almost the whole length of the little stream. At first I used to stay at Penson's farm, where he and his good wife treated me as a friend rather than as a lodger. later on when my family increased in numbers we had to find more roomy quarters and I rented a small house from Innocent in Lechlade. At other times we put up at the Lechlade New Inn Hotel, a very comfortable place with the Thames (rather surprisingly) running at the bottom of the garden.

On the Leach, Haig, Downing, Bankes-Price, my eldest daughter Gladys, and I had great times. There was a good Mayfly rise and for some time before and after its appearance the Alder was very successful. Indeed, even while the mayfly was on, trout would often prefer the Alder.

As I have not kept a fishing diary, I can only trust to memory for some of the good days, but some recollections come back to me: A wonderful Mayfly rise, in heavy rain, Penson carrying a huge umbrella, pointing out the rises and laughing with delight as one fat trout after another came into the net.

Another day on the water below Arkell's when I waded a rather deep stretch of not more than a hundred yards and came out wirth nine good fish all on the Alder.

Still another day when my daughter, Gladys, and I got twenty-two trout before lunch an not one after, and once more when whole day's fishing had resulted in nothing up to six o'clock, then it suddenly turned cold and the fish came madly on and six brace were killed.

But every day on the Leach was delightful, whether the bag was heavy or light, and I remember every twist and turn of the stream with the regret that the fishing is no longer mine, but with the hope that my lucky successors have as good times as I had.

In 1913 my late wife and I rented Asthall Manor not far from Burford. The Windrush ran through the garden and we had some miles of fishing. It was heavier water than the Leach and did not hold so many trout, but they were bigger and there were grayling too and pike and great chub. I have noticed that where there are some pike the trout, though less numerous, are larger and always healthy as the pike make short work of any invalids.

The Windrush had an amazing hatch of Mayfly, far too much in fact, for the fish soon became gorged and would look at nothing.

It was great fun on the river bank. We kept our rods all set up in the billiard room and if conditions looked auspicious we could start fishing in five minutes.

Windrush memories include one three pounder trout which took my Mayfly and promptly weeded me, apparently hopelessly. My sister-in-law, Miss Pepper, threw stones into the water above him until his nerve gave way and he left his weed bed and came down the stream and was played and killed. The thirteen pound pike, which adorns the hall at Dunley, was caught in the Windrush too, One of my labourer friends told me he had seen a pike 'as long as the bar of a gate' in the lower water, so off I went. He was not as big as that, but he was big enough to give me a very exciting ten minutes when I hooked him on a light trout spinning rod. He made a gallant attempt to go over a big weir, but he just failed and I got him after a great fight.

Other rivers I have fished are the Lugg, near Leominster, and the Rye in Yorkshire, near Rievaulx. Both these rivers are different in character from the Cotswold streams; they depend more on surface water and less on springs, so they rise more rapidly in wet weather and shrink faster in dry times. They have steep banks with bushes and trees coming down to the water. On both streams the minnow is legitimate as well as the fly, and often accounts for the larger fish.

Foe spinning I used a short rather stiff rod and a natural minnow (killed previously of course) mounted on aerial tackle. It was not necessary to make long casts of to use a spinning reel. With a fine dressed line I found it best to collect the line in the left hand and to cast from the coils in the hand. Wading upstream and casting close under the banks paid best. This means recovering line rather quickly to keep the minnow spinning, as it comes down stream. On a larger water some form of spinning reel must be used, one of the thread-line reels or a Pfleuger.

Fishing on the River Itchen. Photo by Derek Hampshire

In 1918 we came to my present home - Dunley near Whitchurch. This is the real chalk country and the Test and the Itchen are considered the best dry fly rivers in England. But although I have never had the good fortune to fish the Costa and the Driffield Beck, in the North, I believe they are nearly as good.

The Itchen was the favourite water of the late Earl Gray and he writes very charmingly about it. I know little of this stream, in fact only one beat which belongs to my great friend, Phelps, who for may years has given me happy days, generally in the Mayfly time. Phelps has one of tbe most charming places I have ever seen; the river divides into two streams both of which run through his garden, which in this and many other ways comes close to the Garden of Eden. On the whole I prefer it for I believe neither Tigris nor Euphrates produce trout and graying and one does not miss the Serpent. The trout which are large and rise freely offer quite enough temptations.

One stretch of this water is unique: the main river and the Old Barge stream run parallel for some distance with a narrow path between, and to have a trout stream on either side is surely more than any fisherman deserves (except perhaps Phelps) and whichever way the wind blows it is always right for one stream or the other.

The Test I know better. I have fished it up at Oakley, where it is quite clear and free from contamination and as bright as gin. Just above Whitchurch i have an Old Mill with a small length of water which adjoins the Whitchurch Angling Club.It was here that Charles Kingsley fished and here that his 'Chalk Stream Studies' where inspired. Another beat on the Lower Test at Compton, above Romsey, I have rented for a good many years. Here the river is wide and deep and the trout run larger (the limit is a pound and a half) but they are not very numerous. For some unknown reason this beat has gradually deteriorated, especially during the last three years; not only are there fewer trout but even the grayling, of which there were any number, are much reduced. At one time many grayling were netted every year, an still increased, while now although netting has been discontinued they are very little in evidence. The Mayfly too, of which at one time there were almost too many, has grown less and less, but the Mayfly comes and goes without apparent reason, and it may return. I hope it will for, on heavy water holding big trout, the Mayfly is all to the good, though on smaller streams I would rather be without it for the fish become gorged and and refuse for some time afterwards to even rise for smaller flies. The Compton water is entirely without shelter for the valley is wide and flat, and every wind of heaven tears across it, generally from the West, (mine is the East or left hand bank). if not from the West, then from the north, so that one has to flog against it more often than not and long casting is necessary for it is a big water. There are Halcyon days of course when 'every wind is laid' but the are few and far between and so are the days when a gentle breeze from the South-East comes to cheer the fisherman and fill his bag.

Just above Compton is Stockbridge water, perhaps the most famous length on all the river.

At Longstock, higher up, through the hospitality of Mrs Beddington, i have had many delightful days. It would be hard to imagine a more prefect water. it is well sheltered by woods with paths running through them, so that after having fished up the beat, one can walk back again through the woods without disturbing the fish.

At Leckford my friend Barker, alas no more, often invited me to fish. This too is a beautiful stretch.

Compton holds many happy memories for me of days when with my late wife [Florence], Haig, Downing, Price, my sister-in-law Margaret Pepper, or other friends, we have fished through the long summer days, often staying for the evening rise, and have driven home tired but very content. My wife's best trout was three pounds. once I had a four pounder, and Miss Pepper had many good fish including a grayling of three pounds and a half. She is one of the best woman anglers I have ever known. She was my pupil and I am very proud of her skill. She casts a beautiful line, has marvellous eyesight (a great gift to anglers) and an instinct for choosing the right fly. On of the most interesting days she and I had at Compton produced thirty-four grayling, of which she caught fifteen without changing her fly.

The Middleton water at Longparish I used to fish when my friend, Hornsby, rented it, a very attractive beat, but Hornsby - a fine shot and an excellent fisherman - has to the regret of all who knew him, left the district.

The Dever is a tributary which rises near Micheldever, and joined the test at Bullington. This I used to fish with my late wife when Henry Nicholl was alive. to him I have been indebted for many good days with rod and gun, and I remember his always as one whose charm and courtesy were unexcelled. The Dever is wide and shallow and full of trout, though I think that the grayling have increased in recent years.

And now we come to Hurstbourne Fishery, belonging to the Portsmouth Estates. This includes almost all of the Bourne from St Mary Bourne down to its junction with the Test above the Heronry. It is this water about which Plunkett Greene writes in 'Where The Bright Waters Meet" which all anglers should read and which leaves little to be said by one so unskilled in writing as myself.

Six lucky men, of whom I am one, have rented this water for some years. Edward Grove is the leading spirit and manages the water, and us, fore love of the job, and so gently does he drive his team that we are almost unconscious of his guiding hand, and everything fits together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle: everybody knows where to go on every day of the fishing season without risk of being disturbed and, which is much more important, without risk of disturbing anybody else. Wilkins, the keeper, is an old hand with his heart in his work and every day in the year he is doing something to make things better for us all. He is a great hand at spotting a trout and many a good one has he spotted for me.

Several books have been written about the Test, among others 'A Summer On The Test" by JW HIlls, 'River Keeper' by Hills and 'Fifty Years On The Test' by CE Pain.

Dry fly fishing was known and practised long before my time, but when I began to fish it was by no means general and I was fortunate enough to see its growth and development.

It would be a presumption for me to offer any advice to the old hands who know so much more about the subject than I, but one picks up ideas and get experience during long years , which might be helpful to the beginner.

I suppose an engineer naturally stresses the importance of having the best possible machinery for any job that comes his way, and as I am at least some sort of engineer, I feel that one should start fishing with really good equipment. One of my favourite business mottos (I believe it is original) is "the best is good enough, but only just". Anyway it is a sound motto for a young fisherman. Get, if you can, a split cane rod, with some backbone in it (9'-0" for choice); a reel with a large barrel for quick recovery, and the best double tapered line you can find, and be sure it is heavy enough for the rod (better too heavy than too light). These are the essentials, and there is one other, a good big net wit a telescopic handle and a good stiff bow. Collapsible nets with a leather thong in front are no good for a weeded fish. You cannot dig him out because the net collapses.

Every fisherman has his own ideas about flies and "de gustibus non est disputandum" but I think that most of us have a far greater variety of flies in our boxes than necessary. I am sure that that i have, but i am learning. The most important thing about a fly is its size, colour coming definitely second. Maxwell for instance found that scarlet Mayflies of correct size killed just as well as those of natural colour. As to the merits of winged versus hackle flies I am no good as an adviser, for I wobble continually and make an inglorious compromise by using both. Frequently during a rise I have killed fish with three or four flies all of quite different colours and patterns. Niceties of pattern probably appeal to the angler much more than to the fish. Form is important; slenderly dressed flies are better than mops.

The trout sees the floating fly mainly as a silhouette against the sky and is conscious of its size, shape and natural behaviour, far more than of colour. With a wet fly, colour is no doubt of greater importance. By natural behaviour I mean that the fly should float freely over the fish at the same pace as its natural prototypes, and without drag either positive of negative. Avoiding drag is most difficult; get behind your fish when you can, but when you must fish across the cast as slack a line as possible, so that for at least a second or two the fly floats freely before intervening irregularities of current snatch the fly across the water. Experts are said to be able to cast lines with a bow (convex side upstream) and if they can it is no doubt an advantage, but I have never attained such skill.

I have just ordered my stock of flies for the coming season. Here is the list in what I believe is the order of merit at least for the Test and the Bourne:-

Reg Quill, winged and hackle
Greenwell's Glory, winged an hackle
Iron Blue, winged
Medium Olive, winged and hackle
Pale Olive, winged and hackle
Tup
Red Spinner
Sedge
A few nymphs of sorts

I raise a respectful hat to the big game fishers who circumnavigate the world in search of monsters: sharks, swordfish, tunny, tarpon and the like, using for bait fish far bigger than any I have ever caught, but I envy them not at all, preferring the familiar chalk stream and the quiet refreshment that it brings.

Here is my ideal:- to wade up a long and broad shallow in May or June, the water just deep enough to come halfway up one's thigh, and with patches of weed alternating with clear spaces of clean bright gravel; a gentle breeze at one's back, bright sunshine but with occasional clouds and a gentle shower every now and then; a rise of Olives or Iron Blues, just enough to bring the trout out from their shelters to take up feeding positions over the gravel patches, and with the light just right so that every fish can be seen.

To see the trout and not merely the ring of its rise adds greatly to the joy of fishing, because you can chose your fish and like carpenter with the oysters pick out those of the largest size, and avoid wasting your time on the smaller fry. When you can see your fish you can quickly decide what he is up to and what will be his most likely response to your efforts. If he lies deep and inactive in the water he may rise to you but the odds are against it. If he is deep but animated and moving from side to side with little jerky darts he is probably feeding on nymphs and will probably take an artificial one if you are not too much of a dry fly purist to use it. I am not. But if he rises quietly and sucks in every dun that floats above him, then he will probably take your fly if you present it to him neatly and deftly. If he lying on top of a weed patch with his back showing brown and bright with only an ince of two of water to cover him then he is yours almost for certain.

I say almost, for although he will take your fly you may fail to hook him. If you tighten too soon, the fly is snatched away, if too late it is rejected, if you strike too hard the 4X gut breaks and you leave your fly in his mouth. Even when well hooked he is not yours for certain, for he will surely plunge into the weeds if he can, and seizing a weed in his mouth, hold on like grim death to a deceased African. If you are quick and clever you may haul him downstream before he has realised what is the matter. But even if he weeds you there is still some hope. First slacken the line, he may fancy the trouble is over and come out of cover. If not, don't try to pull him out with the rod, but lower the rod and point it straight at the fish and put a firm but gentle pressure on him by pulling the line with your hand. Why this manouvre should succeed I don't know, but it often does. If not, then up with the rod point and reel up steadily, keeping a gentle pressure on the fish, wade up behind him and dig him out with you net, if indeed he is still there, for often enough the trout has got rid of the hook by this time and left it embedded in the weeds.

But the ideal does not often come in the angler's way and he must be content with something part way between best and worst.

The worst is something like this:- A tearing downstream wind making neat casting almost impossible and always a labour; no fly, or very few and those blown off the water as soon as they hatch; fish sheltering under the weeds and the water so rough that they would be invisible anyway; masses of floating weed from some upstream neighbour, who has chosen that very day for weed-cutting. It only remains to step into a hole and fill both waders with water, to stagger to the side and to smash one's rod point in struggling up a greasy bank, and the day is complete - especially if the flash has been left behind and the sandwiches are soaked to pulp in the rain.

But if few days reach the ideal let us be thankful that few are really of the worst.

Of loch fishing I have done little save for some dapping years ago in Loch Carrib were we were nearly drowned by our boatmen who got us on a mass of rocks in shallow choppy water, on which we bumped and bumped , expecting any moment to see a rock come though the bottom of the boat, but all was well and we got safely ashore at last.

For dapping, a light seventeen foot rod is used, at the end of the line some yards of floss silk are tied on and then a cast, with a natural Mayfly (or two) mounted on the hook. The boat drifts with the wind; when the rod is lifted the light floss silk is carried forward by the wind and when the point is lowered the fly falls light;y on the water where it floats until it is picked up again for a fresh effort, or until it disappears into the mouth of a great trout. Then the line is tightened slowly and the circus begins.

But I must not forget Loch Leven at Kinross, in some ways the most wonderful loch in the world. More than once over a thousand fish have been killed in the day. The fish average something under the pound. This sounds incredible but the loch covers more than four thousand acres so it means only one fish to four acres after all. There are about forty boats with two rods (and sometimes three) in each. Fishing goes on till midnight in the summer and very keen fisherman take three or four hours sleep and start again before dawn.

Loch Leven it must be admitted is rather commercialised. There is a large building on the Kinross with offices, waiting rooms, stores, boatmen's quarters and a tackle shop, where everything necessary to the fisherman can be bought. Boats can be reserved in advance by telephone and the while thing is organised on thoroughly businesslike lines. But for those who have only limited time to spare, Loch Leven probably offers the best chance of catching trout of any place in the British Isles.

There is a station close at hand and excellent roads. You can leave London by sleeper and be on the loch in good time the next morning. While to folk living in Glasgow or Edinburgh it is quite possible to start in the morning, fish all day and be back at work the next morning.

The actual fishing is comparatively easy. the boat is rowed up wind and then allowed to drift down broadside on; one rod sits in the bow, the other in the stern, and as the wind is always behind the line goes out with very little effort. Four wet flies are used, the favourite patterns are Peter Ross, grouse and green, grouse and claret, woodcock and yellow, Wickham, teal and red, teal and green, black and blue, the butcher is generally used as top dropper.

In this wet fly fishing colour does no doubt count more than with the dry fly and it very often happens that most of one's fish select one particular fly on the cast. the tail fly on the whole probably catches more fish than the droppers.

As in all fishing the weather is the main factor., an overcast sky but without heavy black cloud, and a gentle breeze from the East are the ideal conditions. With heavy winds the water gets very rough and fishing is then uncomfortable, but not necessarily unproductive. In hot calm weather the loch become glass smooth and then one's chances are very poor; in fact it is hardly worth going out until the evening. Just before sunset on such days there is often a rise of white moth (caenis) a small fly with greenish body and white flat wings. This appears in incredible quantities covering the boat, settling on one's coat, hat and face, and getting in eyes, ears and nose. Then the fish usually come on and feed greedily making a chain of rises in succession without troubling to go down between rises. They are almost impossible to catch in these conditions. There is no satisfactory imitation of the caenis, and if there were the artificial fly would only have one chance in a million. But don't give up hope. Wait till the sun has quite disappeared behind the western hills, then there comes a chill in the air, the white moth disappears as suddenly as it came, some larger flies are now seen and taken by the fish and the angler's opportunity comes to him at last. And it is worth fishing as long as one can see, and after.

Of sea trout fishing I know very little, and I envy those who have the chance of catching these most sporting of all fish. We spent some days on the Ythan over August. There are plenty of good sea trout but we were not lucky. Most of the fish are caught by trolling with a sand eel mounted on a spinner, but it is a slow business without the interest and exercise of casting.

The original manuscript - typed (probably by Miss Tidd), with Alfred Herbert's handwritten corrections - is 25 pages long]

Cliuck here for some reminiscences by June Gracey, Sir Alfred's grandaughter, on fishing on the Test at Whitchurch

Herry's Early Experiences of Banking

2009-05-25T10:19:00.000-07:00

My idea of what retail banking should be like is heavily coloured by my first experiences of it. I opened an account at Barclays* in Winchester when I was about 13 and had just gone to school there and a small amount of money was deposited in my account by my parents and occasionally topped up.

I didn't need much; just enough to go the school shop a couple of times a week for egg and chips (2/6p) to supplement the appalling food that Francis King served in Phil's. Other things were bought on my mother Annette's account - groceries at Cullen's in Jewry St and books at Harrington's in Parchment St. Later we used to go to the Two Bare Feet coffee bar (also in Parchment St) and have weak cappucinos in glass cups and saucers and imagine that we were cool.

As a conequence, I went rarely to the bank (these were the days long before cash machines) to draw out money, but when I did, one entered the rather splendid high-ceiling banking hall and I sought out Carol, an absolutely stunning blonde cashier, who always cashed my £5 cheques with a smile and later some banter. Not infrequently, the manager of the bank, George Corse, would come out of his office beside the cashiers' desks and talk to me. Whether this was the normal attention he gave to young customers of the bank, or whether the fact that my parents were friends of one of the Bank's directors, Henry Lambert (and his wife Diana), doesn't matter. It was then customary for the manager to try meet his customers as often as he could, and I would often see him on the floor of the bank just chatting to people as they came in. He invited me to play golf and on one occasion gave me lunch at the Georgian Restaurant in Jewry St.

In time he used to tease me about Carol, and even much later when he had long retired and I met him on the street, he would remind me of her and my £5 cheques. Sadly Carol didn't heed Stendhal's advice to beautiful women and married and divorced more than once. But George Corse's customer care could provide a useful lesson to bankers today.

* Above the banking hall were offices where the secretarial school of Miss VM Sprules and MIss A Glyka could be found. Many of my friends attended.

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Town Thorns Residential School, Easenhall

2009-05-22T22:20:00.000-07:00

Sir Alfred Herbert acquired Town Thorns Manor at Easenhall in the late 1930s as place to which Coventry children could be evacuated in time of war, and gave it to Coventry City Council. After the war, it was turned into a school for children with learning difficulties. The Town Thorns Residential School for ESN Children was opened in January 1954, run by a Mr Brittan and his wife.

Mr Brittan wrote to Sir Alfred and Lady Nina Herbert in January 1954:

"Many times since January 20th when we opened as a residential school for ESN children, the boys and girls have spoken about the "lovely house" and "when are Sir Alfred and Lady Herbert coming to visit us?" We are very grateful for this opportunity to work with these problem cases in such delightful surroundings, and both the children and staff would welcome the chance to thank you personally. Perhaps the best thanks you can receive is to know how great has been the change for good in these children - mentally, morally and physically."

One of the children wrote to them on 1st November 1954, "I am writing to thank you for giving us the use of this school and its grounds. Perhaps you would like to visit us one day for lunch or tea. Please write to say when you can come. Our album will show you some of the things we are doing here. Yours faithfully, Pauline Plant".

Later letters - written up until 1956 (Sir Alfred died in 1957) thank them for various gifts - a boat for use on the lake, 'waist slips' for the girls, fountains pens and propelling pencils and the like.

Although after Sir Alfred died in 1957, Lady Herbert maintained her links with the school, but she suffered a stroke in 1963 and never recovered.

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Sir Alfred Herbert and St Barbara's Church, Earlsdon

2009-05-21T23:41:00.000-07:00

Sir Alfred was considerably involved with helping the inspirational vicar, the Rev Claud Russell, with the building of a new church at Earlsdon, Coventry in 1929-1931. and the Lady Chapel at the church is dedicated to the memory of his second wife, Florence. A later vicar of St Barbara's, Canon Cooke, married his granddaughter June Hollick to Capt Milo Vapenik at Stoneleigh in 1941 and Claude Russell and another local vicar, the Rev AP Wales, remained good family friends for many years.

The history of the church can be found on the church's website here .

The original consecration of the church was reported in The Coventry Standard of 3rd October 1931 thus:

"St Barbara's Earlsdon - Consecration by the Bishop of Coventry - Tribute to Vigorous Leadership - Canon CAH Russell"

On Saturday afternoon, with dignified ceremonial, and in the presence of a large and representative congregation, the Bishop of Coventry (Dr Mervyn Haigh) consecrated the first portion of the new permanent church of St Barbara, situated on the corner of Rochester Road and Beechwood Avenue, Earlsdon. The consecration of the church marks the culmination of a strenuous ten years leadership by the present Vicar, CAH Russell, backed by a no less eager and enthusiastic congregation. It was a happy thought for the Bishop to choose the occasion to make an announcement that he proposed to confer upon Mr Russell an honorary canonry in the Cathedral.

The first sods for preparing the site of the new church were cut on Sept 29th, 1929, the foundation stone was laid by Sir Alfred Herbert on September 28th 1930, and the pillars of the western porch, which is to be given by Freemasons to whom the Vicar is chaplin, were set up at an imposing Masonic service this year. Services were transferred from the old church in Palmerston Road to the new church on Sunday.

The New Church

The new Church has been built by Messrs Harris of Coventry, from the designs of Messrs Austin and Paley of Lancaster and Mr HT Jackson, architiect has acted as Clerk of the Works. It is built in a modernised version of the Mediaeval style and consists of a nave with side aisles, a chancel terminating in an apse, an organ chamber and vestries on the north side, and a porch and a Lady Chapel on the south side. The north aisle and the west front are of a temporary nature, and when funds permit the nave will be extended another bay and a half, the north aisle will be rebuilt, and the permanent west front with the Masonic porch erected. The present accomodation is for 416 people. The design is of the 14th and 15th Centuries, the aisle and clerestorey windows being square-headed and treceried, and those of the apse pointed with the exception of the east window which is circular and is filled with stained glass. The exterior material used is strong and durable Staffordshire brick with internal facings of sand stocks made locally.

St Barbara's is claimed to be the first Church of England church in which the use of reconstructed stone has been permitted. It is a prefect imitation of natural stone and is more durable and less porous. The interior of the chancel, apse and Lady Chapel, and of the nave piers and arches, are of this stone. The rooks are of Columbian pine and the lighting is concealed in the roof timbers. The ancient pulpit, dated 1661, is of a type known as the wine glass, and has been given by Mr J Rochelle Thomas in memory of Jane Rochelle Thomas. The chancel is paved with terrazzo and the sanctuary of the Lady Chapel with marble. The choir stalls have been made from seats removed from the Cathedral.

The Lady Chapel, which is the gem of the building, is divided from the chancel by three arches, in which are elaborately carved oak screens. The chapel forms a memorial to Lady Herbert and the cost of its sumptuous decorations has been borne by Sir Alfred Herbert. It is divided from the nave by a carved oak screen. The three side windows and the eastern rose window contain stained glass. The walls are oak panelled with carved figures of saints on either side of the altar. The roof is of hammer-beam construction and the hammer-beams are carved to represent angels with outstretched wings. The chapel contains a stone with an inscription in memory of Lady Herbert.

The gifts received for the furnishing of the church are too numerous to mention. Sir Alfred Herbert and Mr and Mrs H Mander have given the choir vestry, and Alderman J.I. Bates (a generous contributor to the building fund), has given 50 chairs. [Alderman Bates also contributed to the building of the Herbert Art Gallery and Museum and a gallery there is named in his honour]. The approximate cost of the building, excluding furnishing and Sir Alfred Herbert's gifts, is £16,000, of which £4000 remains to be raised.

The Service

The congregation filled the new Church long before the ceremony was timed to commence. A procession of clergy entered and took their places in the chancel. They included the following: The Revs Canon Conder (Leamington), Canon TW Downing (Knowle), CVB Robinson and AM Pryde (St Mark's, Coventry), HC James (St Thomas's), GW Clitheroe (Holy Trinity), LEW Bosley (Radford), GHK Pedley and DA Foster (the Cathedral), PA Morson (St Mary Magdalene), and EW Bryan (Whitnash). Among the congregation were the Mayor of Coventry (Ald Batchelor), Sir Alfred Herbert, Mrs Pepper and the Misses Pepper (relatives of the late Lady Herbert). Mr and Mrs Harold Blyth (Leamington), Mr and Mrs J Rochelle Thomas and Miss Rochelle Thomas, Col and Mrs WF Wyley, Ald J.I Bates, Conncillors OM Flynn, TE Friswell,and J Holt, Mrs GA Dickins (Warwick), Mrs AHM Russell, Mrs CAH Russell, Miss M Russell, Miss Evelyn Russell, Mr and Mrs Paley (Lancaster), Mrs WH Herbert and Miss Herbert, (Leicester), Mrs Alfred Herbert, Mr HT Jackson (Clerk of Works), Mr EJ Corbett (Chairman of the Building Committee), Mr JW Lee and Mr WH Spencer.

Punctually and three o'clock the Bishop was heard knocking at the west door demanding admittance. Within was the Vicar (the Rev CAH Russell), with the churchwardens (Mr R Head and Mr H Clements), and the choir. The door of the Church was opened and the Vicar petitioned the Bishop to consecrate the Church. The Bishop having expressed his readiness to do so, the Vicar delivered the key of the church to the Bishop, and after a prayer at the Church door, the procession passed to the sanctuary singing Psalm 122. "I was glad when they said unto me'. The Vicar was accompanied by the Archdeacon of Warwick, Ven H St B Holland (who took the place of the Archdeacon of Coventry), the Provost of the Cathedral ( the Very Rev CE Morton), Mr Walter Browett, (Diocesan Registrar), Mr PS Nichols (Chapter Clerk), and the Bishop's Chaplains (the Revs AK Swallow and R Jones).

After more prayers, the Bishop and his procession visited the appointed places including the font, the praying desk, the lectern, the Chancel steps, the pulpit and the two altars where the Archdeacon read appropriate passages of
Scripture, and the Bishop offered prayer. Then, seated in a chair with a table before him, the Bishop ordered the sentence of consecration to be read by the Diocesan Registrar. This having been done, the Bishop signed it and ordered it to be enrolled and preserved in the miniments of the Diocesan Registry.

The Bishop pronounced the sentence of consecration, setting apart the Church in the name of St Barbara, and then proceeded to the entrance of the Chancel, where he traced the consecration cross on a pillar. During the singing of the hymn 'City of God', a mason carved the cross in the stone. The Bishop then addressed the congregation, and during the singing of the hymn 'O Worship the King', a collection was taken for the building fund. Prayers and the Benediction offered by the Bishop concluded an impressive service. Mr E Alcott (choirmaster and organist) officiated at the organ and the service was sung in a reverent and dignified manner.

[The Coventry Standard then prints the whole of the Bishop's sermon]

After the service the visiting clergy were entertained to tea in the Parish Room.

The ceremony of consecration was concluded on Sunday morning when the Bishop was celebrant at at an early celebration. Special services were held during the day, the Provost preaching in the morning and the Archdeacon of Coventry (Dr JW Hunkin) in the evening.

The Coventry Standard Friday and Saturday October 2 & 3. 1931
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Sir Alfred Herbert's Induction Into Coventry's Walk of Fame

2009-05-16T13:36:00.000-07:00

Coventry has created a 'Walk of Fame' in Priory Place near the Cathedralwhere the most famous of those with links to the city (as chosen by the public) are commemorated with plaques set into the pavement.

On Saturday 26th May, Sir Alfred Herbert's plaque was unveiled at a ceremony at which Herry and his brother Piers represented the Herbert family and Herry spoke.

Sir Alfred's gifts to the city were many, and some are enumerated in the brochure accompanying the first opening of The Herbert Art Gallery and Museum.

It’s a great honour for the family of Sir Alfred Herbert that the public should have voted him on to the city’s Walk of Fame; he loved the city and in particular the many who worked with him and for him building up his highly respected machine tools business which was for a time, the largest in the world.

He was born and brought up in Leicester, but from the time that he persuaded his father to allow him become an engineering apprentice – an unusual career in those days for a public schoolboy from a wealthy background - he made Coventry the centre of his working life.

His first joined the firm of Coles and Matthews in the Butts, but by 1888 he had bought the business in partnership with a school friend and by 1894 had formed the firm that bore his name - running it until his death in 1957 at the age of 90.

In 1889 he married Ellen Ryley, the daughter of the manager of Lloyd’s Bank, who was born in Little Park St, very close to where the Herbert Gallery and Museum stands today. She bore him four children – all daughters. Sadly she died in 1918, just after he received his knighthood for his services to the country as Controller of Machine Tools during the First World War and also just after he bought his estate at Dunley in Hampshire, which was his country home until he died.

Thereafter he married Florence Pepper, a matron at the Coventry and Warwickshire Hospital. Very sadly she too died, in 1930, but not before he had begun the negotiations to create Lady Herbert’s Homes and Garden, which are still much valued today.

His final marriage was to our grandmother Nina, herself a widow, in 1933.

They maintained a simple flat ‘over the works’ at Edgewick and used to stay there in the week. However during the war when bombing was expected, they were persuaded to stay with his granddaughter June Vapenik and her husband at Leamington Spa. On the awful night of 14th / 15th November 1940 they were there, and she can remember him watching in agony from the windows, pacing up and down saying ‘My poor men, my poor men’. His granddaughter later took in five refugees from the city, as many did.

Those of you here well know the enormous success of his business up until the time of his death, and of his role as benefactor to the city, but above Sir Alfred’s great talent as an engineer, he was probably an even greater manager and leader of men, and treated every man as an equal. He would go down onto the works floor at all hours and especially on the night shift, cigarette in hand, and chat to whoever was there. As the Bishop of Coventry said at the memorial service for Sir Alfred in the shell of the cathedral in 1957, ‘he thought and cared and planned and suffered ..... with those men with whom he had worked so long. He did not regard them as his employees as much as his friends.’

And the Coventry Standard ‘s headline put it beautifully: ‘The Humble and Eminent Unite In A Tribute To A Man Who Was Both’

Herry Lawford and Dr Piers Lawford
Step-grandsons of Sir Alfred Herbert
Also representing June Gracey (nee Hollick, later Vapenik), his granddaughter
Coventry 16th May 2009

On 24th August 2009 on behalf of Sir Alfred's family, Herry donated the glass sculpture commemorating Sir Alfred's induction into the 'Walk of Fame' to The Herbert Art Gallery and Museum, as being the most fitting place for it to rest. Here he is handing it over to Keith Railton, chairman of the Coventry Heritage and Arts Trust outside The Herbert.

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The Swedish Connection

2009-05-05T09:17:00.000-07:00

Apart from some eccentric cousins who lived in Wimbledon, the Baronesses Gwendolyn and Winifred Leyonhrufrud, Herry has no Swedish connections, but on one occasion, he possibly came close to acquiring some.

His senior partner's family [name not included to preserve their privacy] were friends of the Swedish Royal Family. Specifically the senior partner's father had become friends with the King and Queen of Sweden in the South of France and the relationship continued over many years.

In the summer of 1969, the senior partner asked Herry to come down to a dinner party he was giving at his home, Adwell, which he was glad to do, and he stayed the night. The guests at the dinner party were the King and Queen of Sweden, their daughter Christina, Princess Margaretha of Denmark and her husband John Ambler and Lord and Lady Carrington. There was probably another young man, but Herry can't remember him!

He sat next to Princess Christina at dinner and got on very well with her. He also found Lady Carrington very charming - on his other side. [One of the Carrington's daughters married Lord Ashcombe, Camilla's first cousin].

When back in his office a few days later, he had a phone call from Sweden. Unfortunately, he was out and his secretary took the call but said that the caller left no name or number. It's possible that it was Christina; he had given her his card......but that is just a young man's conjecture!

Alfred Herbert's Schooldays

2009-04-30T23:18:00.000-07:00

The Stoneygate Class Lists of 30th July 1880. Click to read. 'Herbert' is mentioned on both pages.

Alfred Herbert went to school at Stoneygate, a private school on the outskirts of Leicester with - in those days - some 50 pupils.

The class list for July 1880, when Alfred was 14, show him excelling at divinity, English and the sciences. In that year, he won the Class II prize jointly with another boy, as well as a music prize. He still had at least two or three years to go and was must have been top of Class I when he left. Interestingly, the boy next to him in class was William S Hubbard who excelled in maths, algebra and geometry and with whom he later went into business. Also, above him in Class 1 was David Gimson, who went on to be an accountant and in 1918 became the Financial Director of Alfred Herbert Ltd, only retiring in 1953.

Although Alfred was expected to go on to university and into the church when he left school, he met up with Hubbard, who had joined Joseph Jessop's Engineering Co in Leicester. Herbert was fascinated by what the small lathes at Jessops produced, so he persuaded his father to let him follow his friend's example. Subsequently he became an apprentice at Jessops and thereafter joined Coles and Mathews, a firm of engineers in The Butts, Coventry, which he later bought with Hubbard and which became the foundation of his own company, Alfred Herbert Ltd.

The 'Great Paul' being transported to London. Herbert and Hubbard took this as the logo of their firm.

He must have been interested in engineering from an early age. In fact, a short memoir that Alfred wrote in 1954 recalled that during his schooldays he was fascinated by the transportation in 1882 of 'The Great Paul', a 17 ton bell for St Paul's Cathedral from Taylor's foundry in Loughborough by a special lorry built by Coles and Matthews - the firm he later joined in Coventry. He wrote that he was at Stoneygate as the bell passed the gates and that 'we boys were allowed to see the procession and I climbed on to the lorry and wrote my name in pencil on the bell'. The story continues: "It was an imposing cavalcade preceded by a man with a red flag. Then came two great traction engines hauling the bell, a caravan for the men to sleep in and a water-cart completed the train......At Fenny Compton the road gave way, so boiler plates and jacks had to be sent to the rescue. The journey took about a fortnight and ultimately the bell was safely delivered."

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The Peter Lawford Connection

2009-04-27T23:46:00.000-07:00

Peter Lawford (1923 - 1984), the actor was the son of Sir Sydney Turing Bruce Lawford KCB (1865 - 1953) and May Sommerville Bunny. Sir Sydney's father was Thomas Acland Lawford of Kinnellan, Wimbledon Common (1816 - 1884), himself the the son of Samuel Lawford (1775 - 1865) of Blackheath, a banker. Samuel Lawford was my great-great grandfather.

Sydney Lawford was married twice, first in 1914 to Muriel Williams (daughter of Sir Hartley Williams) and then in 1925 to May Bunny. Peter was born in 1923, before her marriage to Sydney Lawford, which suggests that Sydney may not have been his father.

Peter married Patricia Kennedy, daughter Joseph Kennedy and sister of (later) President JF Kennedy at St Patrick's Cathedral, New York in 1954 and after divorce in 1966, he married Mary Ann Rowan (1971) and Patricia Seaton (1984).

Peter and Patricia had four children: Christopher Kennedy Lawford, Sydney (McKelvey), Victoria (Pender) and Robin.

Capt Humphrey Drummond of Megginch 1922 - 2009

2009-04-26T22:51:00.000-07:00

For Humphrey's obituary, see The Times of 14th May 2009

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Piers Lawford

2009-03-22T21:28:00.000-07:00

Piers

Lady Herbert's Memorial at St James the Less. Litchfield

2009-03-01T23:26:00.000-08:00

St James the Less, Litchfield, in the 1930s. Note Lady Herbert's tomb and the lychgate, as well as the wall and the path up to the church

Sir Alfred Herbert's second wife, Florence, died unexpectedly in May 1930, the day before the completion of the legal arrangements for the creation of Lady Herbert's Garden in Coventry. She was buried at Litchfield in a tomb which she later shared with Sir Alfred, and her mother raised a lychgate at the entrance to the churchyard in her memory. The following press cutting (from June Gracey, her step-granddaughter) gives more detail about the memorial and Sir Alfred's improvements to the churchyard.
The Late Lady Herbert - Memorials at Litchfield
Beautifying the Churchyard
Memorials which have been erected at St James' Church, Litchfield, Hants to the memory of the late Lady Florence Herbert, wife of Sir Alfred Herbert, of Dunley Manor, Whitchurch, Hants and head of Alfred Herbert Ltd, Coventry, were dedicated on Saturday afternoon by the Rev Canon TW Downing, of Knowle, Warwickshire.

The memorials consist of a churchyard wall, which completely fronts the churchyard along the side of the Newbury to Wincheter main road, and a long slab path from the road through the churchyard to the church porch, these being the gift of Sir Alfred Herbert; also a handsome lych-gate, which is the gift of the late Lady Herbert's mother and two sisters.The lych-gate is constructed of English oak on a stone base, and there is a seat on either hand. On the beam on the road side of the gate is inscribed "Come Ye Apart and Rest Awhile" and above this is a bronze tablet which bears the inscription:

"To the Glory of God and in Dear Memory of Florence Herbert, the Gift of her Mother, Louisa Pepper, and of her Sisters, Blanche and Margaret Pepper. May 25th 1930'

The tablet is surmounted by a bronze cross. A paraffin lamp hangs in the centre from the roof. On the churchyard side of the gate appears the words "Depart in Peace".

One feature of the design is that the lych-gate has been set back from the road, which permits of more safely for worshippers leaving the church, the road past being a particularly busy one [sic]. It also allows a car to draw up comfortably without obstructing the road.

Besides giving the churchyard wall and path, Sir Alfred has greatly beautified the churchyard in many ways. One side has been completely opened out, decayed trees removed, and hundreds of bulbs planted in the grass. Another typical work of Sir Alfred has been to ascertain the number and names of children buried in the churchyard, without monumental recognition, and he has erected a headstone on which all the names of those children have been inscribed.

Picture of Beauty

The lych-gate on Saturday was surrounded by a wealth of spring flowers, and daffodils, primroses, hyacinths, lilies-of-the-valley and suchlike flowers abounded in the churchyard, which was a perfect picture of beauty, whilst the day was most genial, the sun shining brilliantly while the clergy and large congregation gathered for the dedication ceremony. The immediate members of the family present were: Sir Alfred Herbert, Mrs Pepper, Miss Blanche Pepper, Miss Margaret Pepper, Masters George Blyth and Gerald Egan, Miss Betty Price, Captain and Mrs Hollick and Master Ian Hollick, also Mr Albert Herbert FRIBA of Leicester, (the archictect responsible for the scheme), who is a cousin of Sir Alfred Herbert. There were also present several members of the Coventry firm, including Mr Oscar Harmer, Mr J Pickin, Mr D Grimson (Directors), and Mr H Grinyer (London).

A short service in church preceded the dedication.

The original cutting can be seen here

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Lady Herbert's Homes and Garden, Coventry

2009-03-01T10:16:00.000-08:00

For some more photos of the homes and the garden, click the heading. Florence is also commemorated by the lychgate at St James the Less, Litchfield

Flowery Oasis in Central Coventry
[The Midland Daily Telegraph, Friday May 30th 1930]

It is a particularly happy thought that a section of Coventry's old City wall, built nearly 600 years ago in order to ensure the safety of the inhabitants in those troublous days, should now become the central feature of "A Place of Rest and Refreshment from the Growing Turmoil of the Streets".

As Coventry has already learned through the medium of these columns, Sir Alfred Herbert has made himself responsible for a scheme whereby the most complete remaining section of the city wall, stretching between Cook Street gate and the Swanswell Gate in Hale Street will be cleared of its unsightly surroundings, the old stonework restored, and the vicinity laid out with beautiful gardens in memory of Lady Herbert, who's death took place on Sunday.

It is pathetic to contemplate that Lady Herbert passed away only one day before a legal agreement was reached between the Corporation and the owners of the whole of the remianing property which it was necessary to acquire before the success of the scheme could be realised.

Coventry has had other reasons for appreciating the civic generosity of Sir Alfred and Lady Herbert, who were jointly interested in demonstrating their devotion to their own work people as well as to the city at large, and it is tragic to realise that Lady Herbert will be unable to see the culmination of a scheme with which she had been so closely concerned.

Some time must obviously elapse before the reconstructed 'Rope Walk' - the site of the scheme - is named, but in response to Sir Alfred Herbert's wish, the memory of his wife will be perpetuated though the medium of this flowerly oasis in embryo, with the massive city walls and gates as a reminder of the civic grandeur associated with the spot.

Some such scheme as this has been 'indicated' for many years and it is somewhat surprising that city Councils of the past have tolerated the growth of masses of mean sheds and the accumulation of unsightly rubbish around the city walls which Coventrians of the C15th built with such thoroughness and care, and the existence of which was alone responsible for Coventry's prominent place in the affairs of England in the Middle Ages.

Days of Civic Inertia

When the writer visited the spot yesterday, he was more than ever forced to the conclusion that some extraordinary species of civic inertia must have descended upon the city's governors of the past century, who must have regarded these ancient stone walls with little more regard than would have been paid to derelict tenements.

It is amazing to find for instance that the City Council has had to repurchase what might normally have been considered to be its own walls and gates. They must have belonged to the city for centuries, and even in the semi-destroyed state which the vengeance of Charles II caused them to be left, there were still large sections which remained in perfect condition, particularly the many handsome gateways. While it is true that modern Coventry may have found the presence of gigantic walls and narrow gateways a handicap to its development, it is by no means inconceivable that means could have been found of preserving some of the best features of these embattlements without restricting progress.

It was in the course of the C14th when royal rivalries, intrigues and civil wars and rebellions were frequent occurrences, that Coventry's citizens became convinced of the necessity of surrounding the city with a wall for its adequate protection. In 1328, the inhabitants of Coventry, headed by the monks of the great Benedictine monastery obtained a patent from Edward III permitting them to take a toll of all vendible commodities brought here over a period of six years towards the expense of enclosing the city.

Matters progressed rather slowly, and it was no until 1353 that the recently consituted municipal corporation commenced the job. The first stone was laid in that year by the mayor at New Gate, situated near the junction of Much Park St and Whitefriars St. Richard II appears to have supported the men of Coventry nobly in their gigantic task, for not only did he confirm the powers granted by his father, but granted liberty for the digging of a large quantity of stone from his park at Cheylesmore. This support was continued throughout his reign through the medium of generous gifts of land.

The man of Coventry went about their task in a manner which cannot fail to arouse admiration. They built a magnificent wall, equipped with gates and towers, in which architectural beauty was exploited to the uttermost, and despite the fact that the task took 40 years to complete, the patience of the masons was even equal to the task of beautifying the gates with rich carvings. The wall was completed in about 1395.

It had a length of three miles and in the main wall, the wall was three yards in thickness. There were 32 towers and bastions including twelve gates. The gates were by no means stereotyped in style, and it is unfortunate that the only two remaining ones, Cook St and Stanswell Gates, are among the least imposing of the twelve. Greyfriars gate, which formerly stood at a spot near the bottom of Hertford St, was a particularly fine structure, the tunnel-like aperture running for about twenty yards between two immense circular towers, backed by a solid fort-like structure of considerable depth and containing apartments for men and arms.

For about 250 years these stupendous wall, gates and towers stood in all their completeness, and an annual tax was payable fro their efficient maintenance. Coventry prized her walls in those days with an almost fanatical devotion. In toublous times the inhabitants took their share in the task of 'watch and ward'. As years went by the solidity of those walls became a prize well worth fighting for, not only by the inhabitants who lived under their protection, but also by rival royal factions who appreciated their value as a sanctuary against powerful enemies.

At last came a time when Coventry's walls shut out a king. in 1642, at a time when Charles I had thoroughly alienated Parliament and the country by his high-flown contentions, and after he had failed ignominiously to obtain possession of the walled town of Hull, he came to Coventry with the hope of making this strongly-fortified city the centre of his Midland operations. He had a large force with him, and demanded admission. The people of Coventry welcomed the King, but would not admit his troops. Charles attempted to enter the city by force and even burst one of the gates with cannon-shots, but the citizens manned the breach in the very mouth of the royal guns.

The cavity was filled with carts, barrows and timber, and the King's cavaliers were repulsed with heavy musketry fire from the battlements sustaining very heavy loss. Some years later, popular opinion turned round in the direction of Charles II and Coventry gave some extravagant demonstrations of its loyalty to the new King. Nothing however could efface from his memory the affront which Coventry has offered to his father in that time of his greatest trouble. He resolved that Coventry's walls should never again form an obstacle to the entrance of a sovreign, and in 1662 he sent the Earl of Northampton to demolish the city walls.

The first breach was made at New Gate, where the first stone was laid many years before, and which was also the point at which Charles I had been refused admission. Nearly 500 men were engaged in the work of destruction, which went on for three weeks and three days, but it is stated that the wreckers far exceeded their duties in the wholesale destruction which they carried out.

From that time onwards, Coventry seems to have lost interest in its former proudest possession. From time to time, either sections of the wall were demolished, always at great expenditure of labour, and often with the aid of gunpowder. The stone and other materials were used for building operations, and although there are no records in existence, it is apparent that the Corporation sold remaining sections of the wall to private persons.

The fine gates which were not destroyed by Charles's men were demolished from time to time. New Gate was taken down in 1762. Bishop Gate in 1764. Gosford Gate in 1765. Spon Gate in 1776 and the handsome Greyfriars Gate in 1781. In view of the wholesale destruction which went on for another century or two, it is surprising that even Cook St and Swanswell Gates remain.

Col WF Wyley performed a valued public action when he purchased Cook St Gate and presented it to the city in 1907 and that generous action has now been handsomely followed by Sir Alfred Herbert's gift. Between Cook St and the Swanswell gate in Hale St a considerable section of the old wall still remains, along what has been known as 'Rope Walk', a distance of 150 yards. Most of it consists of an open passage 110 yards in length and 50 ft wide, now used as a timber yard by Messrs Newarks. At the Cook St end there is a wide block of property largely consisting of large sheds, garages etc together with some cottage property and some other buildings of a more permanent character. The Swanswell Gate has also been used as a dwelling house
for many years, and the roadway which once passed through it has been blocked up. There is also some cottage property adjoining.

In its recent parliamentary Act the Corporation obtained powers for the compulsory acquisition of the whole of the property indicated in the accompanying plan, and Sir Alfred Herbert has now come to the aid of the city by offering to pay the costs incurred to the estimated extent of £10,000.

It will be seen that the scheme will also effect and important improvement of Cook St, for it is proposed to demolish all the property surrounding the gate, and to leave it open to more advantageous inspection. The Swanswell gate will also be restored, the gateway in its centre opened, and the space thus cleared will be laid out as ornamental gardens.

Certain section of the wall adjoining this spot are completely covered by buildings, but the foundations will, presumably, be uncovered. The City Engineers have carefully collected large quantities of original stone from the city wall which have been uncovered from time to time, and it is probable that this will be used in the restoration work.

Rebuilding the Coventry Cross

Sir Alfred Herbert makes a very interesting suggestion in the course of his correspondence with the City Council on the subject, when he expresses the hope that it may be possible to gather together some of the fragments of the old Coventry Cross which formerly stood in Cross Cheaping, and re-erect it in the 'Rope Walk' gardens.

There has been more than one such cross in Cross Cheaping the purpose of them having been to designate the site of the market. The first of these erections was quite a simple affair, but a more elaborate one was erected in 1422 at a cost of £50. In 1540 this was removed and its place occupied by a gorgeous Gothic pyramid of four stories, 57 ft high, its niches containing statues of religious and historical personages, the whole being richly adorned with pinnacles, metal-work heraldic shields etc so highly illuminated with gold and colours that it is a tradition that it is almost impossible to look at it when the sun shone.

In 1669 the cross was repaired and beautified at a cost even greater than that of its erection, but from that time onwards it was wholly neglected and in 1771 it was taken down to save the cost of repairs. A similar fate befel this valuable old relic as was met by the city walls and gates in a period of amazing absence of civic pride. For many years it was known that portions of he cross were in existence in various parts of the city and neighbourhood.

The Midland Daily Telegraph, Friday May 30th 1930

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Alfred Herbert Ltd

2009-03-01T06:21:00.000-08:00

Alfred Herbert Ltd of Coventry, Warwickshire.
Telephone: 8781. Telegraphic Address: "Lathe, Coventry". (1937)

Alfred Herbert Limited were machine tool makers in Coventry.

1866 Alfred Herbert was born, the son of a wealthy landowner. The extent of the Herbert family fortune was considerable. His father, in addition to owning a town house in a salubrious area of Leicester, was the largest landowner in the parish of Whetstone, south of Leicester.

Alfred Herbert was educated at Stoneygate Private School, and was destined for University and/or parsonage, until he met up with an old school friend William Hubbard, who worked on a lathe at Joseph Jessop's Engineering Co in Leicester. Herbert was fascinated by what the small lathe produced, so he persuaded his father to let him follow his friend's example. Subsequently he became an apprentice at Jessops.

Later he became the manager of Coles and Mathews of The Butts, Coventry, and began producing machinery for the cycle trade, with guaranteed orders from the Premier Cycle Co (owned by his brother William).

1888 On Mathews' departure, Herbert bought the business for £4000 in partnership with William Hubbard. With the help of Hubbard's considerable inventive capacity, they began making drilling machines and hand lathes, which sold very quickly at about £28 each.

The letterhead of Herbert & Hubbard's firm. Note the logo - the 'Great Paul' - the bell which Alfred had seen being transported to London when he was at school at Stoneygate.

1889 Alfred Herbert and William Hubbard's business was in Upper York Street, Coventry, under the name of Herbert and Hubbard. After a time the partnership foundered and Hubbard was bought out. Later the firm became known as Herbert Machine Tools and eventually grew into the world's largest machine toolmaking company.

1889 Pill picking and sorting machine.
1894 Became private company.
1894 Catalogue of Horizontal and Vertical Milling Machines, Universal Cutter Grinder, Sensitive Drills, Capstan Lathes for general and repetition work, Universal Grinding Machine, Special Machinery for Cycle manufacturers.
1900 Taper Screwing attachment. Article and description in 'The Engineeer
1912 Directory. As machine tool makers of Butts and Ironfounders of Canal Road, Edgewick.
1914 Listed as machine tool makers. Specialities: hexagon turret lathes, capstan lathes, automatic turning machines, automatic screw machines, milling machines, ball bearing drilling machines etc. Employees 2,000.

1919 Labour saving machine tools.

1920 February. Issued catalogue entitled 'The Turret Lathe and its Work'.
1920 June. Capstan Lathe with Rotating Multiple Stops. Photo and article.
1920 June. Small surface grinding machine.
1920 September. Exhibited at the Machine Tool and Engineering Exhibition at Olympia with ten stands of machinery, tools and other equipment.

1940 August. Visit of the King and Queen to Alfred Herbert Ltd

1944 Became public company.

Sir Alfred and Lady Herbert making a presentation to apprentices 1951

1957 Alfred Herbert died on 5th June 1957 and since the entrepreneur's death, the firm has been one of decline.

1961 Tool makers, mechanical engineers, importers and factors of machine tools, components and small tools. 4,700 employees.

1968 By this date they also owned Holbrook and Sons and Churchill Machine Tool Co.
By the early 1970's the workforce was around 12,000 nationally, but redundancies had begun.

In 1980 Tooling Investments took over the firm, but with debts three years later of some seventeen million pounds led to the firm's collapse.

Graces' Guide - the Best of British Engineering 1750-1960s

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The Herbert Art Gallery and Museum, Coventry

2009-03-01T01:57:00.000-08:00

The following is extracted from the brochure above, which was produced for the first opening of the Herbert Art Gallery and Museum in 1960. The photos are of Sir Alfred and Lady Herbert, our grandmother.

Alfred Herbert was born on 5th September 1866, the son of a Leicestershire farmer. After attending Stoneygate School in Leicester, he was apprenticed to Jessop and Sons after which he came to Coventry to take up the position of works manager in a firm of jobbing and general engineers, Coles & Matthews, in The Butts.

A year later the partnership was dissolved and the business was offered to Alfred, who was 22 years of age at the time. He went into partnership with an old school-friend, WS Hubbard and with their fathers' supplying the necessary capital, formed the firm of Herbert and Hubbard.

Hubbard was a clever mechanic with considerable inventive genius, so they decided to make machine tools, the first of which was a very ingenious machine for picking, sorting and storing pills. Machine tools suitable for use in the rapidly expanding bicycle industry were produced and quickly added to the firm's growing reputation. After two or three years Herbert and Hubbard dissolved their partnership and in 1894 a small company, Alfred Herbert Ltd was formed in which Alfred Herbert held the majority of shares. The new firm rapidly forged ahead with the production of machine tools of all kinds; agencies were taken on and foreign branches established all over the world.

Soon after the outbreak of the First World War, Alfred Herbert was appointed Deputy Director and then Controller of Machine Tools at the Ministry of Munitions, for which service he was awarded a knighthood.

During his lifetime Sir Alfred Herbert developed from very small beginnings, the largest machine tool works in the world.

Not that he is only remembered as one of the greatest industrialists of his day; he was also great in another sphere, as benefactor to his adopted city of Coventry.

Among his many gifts to the city were £2000 in 1934 to equip a ward in the Warwickshire and Coventry Hospital for wounded soldiers, two acres of land in The Butts for a park and playground; Lady Herbert's Homes and Garden as a memorial to Lady Florence Herbert in the centre of the city, Town Thorns Manor, which he gave to Coventry as a childrens' home, £10,000 to the hospital and the loan of a like sum free of interest; a covenant with the Cathedral Reconstruction Committee whereby it received £25,000 over seven years; and £200,000 for the provision of the Art Gallery and Museum which is being opened today. This latter sum, with the accumulation of interest, has meant a contribution of nearly £275,000 to the cost of the buildings.

In addition to his public gifts, his private gifts were also many; such as the £25,000 he disbursed amongst his employees to celebrate his 90th birthday.

His death on 2nd May 1957 brought to a close a life of immense achievement and generosity. He was a natural leader of men and carried to the present age the Victorian virtues of thrift and industry.

He will long be remembered not only for his public gifts for which the Herbert Art Gallery and Museum will stand as a most fitting monument, but also for the unfailing courtesy and kindness he extended to all those who worked for him.

The world lost one of its greatest engineering geniuses, Coventry lost a true and loyal friend and Alfred Herbert Ltd its founder and father.'

The Herbert website records Sir Alfred's contribution thus:

The Herbert Art Gallery and Museum is named after Sir Alfred Herbert, a local industrialist who founded Alfred Herbert Limited, at one time the world's largest machine toolmaking company.

In 1938, Sir Alfred donated £100,000 to the City of Coventry to pay for the construction of an Art Gallery and Museum. Building work started in 1939 on a site on the other side of Bayley Lane from the present building.

At the start of World War II only the basement had been completed and work was stopped.

By the end of World War II the city centre lay in ruins, and work on the gallery was put on hold, although the basement was converted to a temporary art gallery in 1949.

In 1952 new plans were drawn up and on 20th May 1954 Sir Alfred was able to lay the foundation stone of the new building. He also donated a further £100,000 to the scheme.

In 1956 the plans were revised to include a room for science and natural history collections. This was because of a bequest from Alderman JI Bates which gave an additional £34,500 to the scheme. This room was called The Bates Room in his honour.

Sadly Sir Alfred did not live to see the Art Gallery and Museum opened as he died on 5th June 1957 aged 90.

On 9th March 1960 Lady Herbert, his third wife, declared the Art Gallery and Museum open

Click here for some recent photos of the Herbert Art Gallery and Museum after its reopening in October 2008

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Sir Alfred Herbert's Memorial Service in Coventry Cathedral 1957

2009-03-01T00:25:00.000-08:00

"Humble workers and eminent industrialists united in Coventry Cathedral this week to honour in a Memorial Service the great man who embodied them both - Sir Alfred Herbert. The tribute of little women pensioners who came from the homes he provided for them in Lady Herbert's Garden, and the tribute of the company directors from the length and breadth of the land would have been of equal value to Sir Alfred.

One line in one hymn stood out in the whole service provided food for thought by those who loved and those who honoured him. It was 'Beauty for ashes of the vanished years'. Besides being a man of faith, Sir Alfred has left much behind to show for the vanished years. The quiet works of this generous man were enumerated by the Bishop, Dr Cuthbert Bardsley. Some had never been heard publicly before; all had been done in an unostentatious manner.

As the bishop spoke, a few yards away men worked on Coventry's glorious new Cathedral, answering a request for silence in such a way that not a sound disturbed the simple service - building quietly for the future as Sir Alfred had, yet paying their respects to him as he had to his employees and fellow men.

Twenty-six stewards, employees of Sir Alfred Herbert Ltd, conducted the 2000-strong congregation to their seats in the Cathedral under a grey sky. Many were there an hour before the service started and sat in a cold wind to pay their tribute. Others had travelled hundreds of miles for the occasion.

The service was relayed to Holy Trinity, where the organ music for both services was played by Mr L Tanner. Mr David Pugh, son of Lady Herbert, read the lesson from Revelations, and the service was conducted by the Provost, the Very Rev. RT. Howard. The Bishop was preceded into the Cathedral by the Coventry Cross, born by Mr Raymond Lucas, and employee of Sir Alfred Herbert Ltd. Brother Ronald; the Rev Ian Miller, Vicar of Foleshill, and the Rev RM Spurin, the Foleshill curate who are works chaplins at Sir Alfred Herbert; the Precentor of the Cathedral, the Rev JH Proctor; the Rev Lincoln Minshull, Superintendent Minister of the Methodist central hall; the Provost of Coventry, Canon E Moore Darling, Canon Missioner in the Coventry Diocese.

"A man who did much good in his lifetime". Thus Coventry's Lord Bishop described Sir Alfred. He said: "it isn't easy to be rich and a good man. The temptation of the wealthy man is to retire from creative life to live an entirely selfish existence. "Not so Sir Alfred Herbert. He could have retired years ago and enjoyed himself. But he didn't; right up until nearly the end he and Lady Herbert would travel up to the factory each week. He could have ceased to take any interest in in the men in his factory. He had plenty of money with which to live in luxury. But no. He thought and cared and planned and suffered right into his eighties with those men with whom he had worked so long. He did not regard them as his employees as much as his friends. 'Sir Alfred', stated the Bishop, 'was a man who did good with his money and his mind. Just as money could be used for good or ill, so could the mind.... Sir Alfred had a brilliant, scientific mind aligned with a perhaps still more brilliant administrative mind. To you men who have lost a 'boss' - a greatly respected and almost venerated boss - our hearts go out in sympathy. To his wife and family who mourn the loss of husband and father, we extend our deep compassion. But your sorrow should today be tinged with pride that it was your privilege to know and serve and love a very great man, a prince among men, a good man, full of the Holy Ghost, and of faith. May his soul rest in peace and let light perpetually shine upon him."

Family and Principal Mourners were: Lady Herbert, Miss U Tidd (private secretary), Mr and Mrs AO Hollick; Mrs J Vapenick; Major and Mrs W Allen; Mr and Mrs DWAH Allen; Mr and Mrs I Hollick; Mr and Mrs J Pugh; Mr I Pugh; Mr D Pugh; Mr and Mrs P Lawford, Mrs RS King Farlow; Mr D Bankes-Price; Mr H Piper [chauffeur]; Mr EH Busby [chauffeur]; Mr J Crouch [butler]; Mr G Price; Mrs A Stanley; Miss E Hoffa; the Lord Mayor of Coventry, Alderman Mrs Pearl Hyde; the Town Clerk, Mr Charles Barrett; the Deputy Mayor, Alderman HHK Winslow; and the Chief Constable, Mr EWC Pendleton. Thereafter a list of all those who attended - four columns of names.

The Coventry Standard 1957

Click here for more photos of the memorial service as well as his burial at Litchfield.

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Sir Arundel Tagg Arundel 1843 - 1922

2009-02-10T11:44:00.000-08:00

Click the heading for more photos of Sir Arundel Arundel

Sir Arundel Tagg Arundel KCSI, CIE, (1843-1922) was my maternal great-grandfather. Arundel had a son and two daughters, Violet (known as Vi, who married Evelyn Norie) and Marion Fraser (known as Nina), who was my grandmother.

Sir Arundel Tagg Arundel, K.C.S.I, was the second son of William Tagg, Esq, (1808 - 1881) and Rachel Mary Drew (died 1889), daughter of Samuel Drew, Esq. Samuel Drew was born on June 4th 1838, Beatrice on April 14th 1841, Arundel on July 1st 1843 and Emily-Mary born Sept 4th 1848.

Arundel was educated at University College School and at University College, London (B.A. London 1863); and married Catherine Helen (1853 - 1933), eldest daughter of the James Duncan Sim, Esq., C.S.L, Madras Civil Service. Arundel entered the Indian Civil Service in 1865. In 1870 he assumed the surname of Arundel and was appointed Private Secretary to the Acting Governor of Madras in 1875. In 1880 he became President of the Madras Municipal Commission and a Fellow of Madras University. In 1885 he was District and Sessions Judge at Kistna, India, Collector and Magistrate there in 1887, a Member
of the Board of Revenue 1892; M.L.C. Madras 1894 ; Secretary to the Madras Government in the Revenue Department 1896, Chief Secretary 1897, and a Member of the Council 1898. He was a Member of the Council of the Governor-Gen. of India 1901-6 (then Sir Andrew Fraser), and in 1906 Chairman of a Committee of four Members of the Executive Council to consider Lord Minto's proposed reforms; jointly recommended a Council of Ruling Chiefs and Legislative Councils and, with one other Member, that an Indian should be admitted to the Executive Council. He was a J.P. for Surrey and lived at Glebefields, Edgeborough Road, Guildford.

Arundel and his wife Catherine Helen are buried at St James' Church, Abinger Common, and his gravestone records:

Sacred to the memory of Sir Arundel Tagg Arundel
Born 1st July 1843
Died at Guildford 8th November 1925
"In thy presence is fullness of joy" (Psalm 16:11)
And of Catherine Helen his wife
Born 18th May 1853. Died 23rd May 1933

Nina married my grandfather, Col Archie Pugh in Calcutta in 1904. Their wedding photo is below:

Standing: Uncle Norrie Roland, Uncle Lewis Pugh, Grandfather Lewis Pugh Evans Pugh, Attorney-General of Bengal ('Puff-Puff'), Lt-Col Archie Pugh (Annette's father), Sir Arundel Tagg Arundel, Lord Curzon's Home Member (Annette's maternal grandfather), two uncles
Sitting: Aunt Marjorie, Auntie Vi Norie (Nina's sister), Grandmother Lady Arundel, 'Nina' (Marion Fraser) Arundel, Annette's mother), Welsh Grannie (wife of 'Puff-Puff'), Unknown
At foot - Nancy Stevenson Moore

The witnesses were Lord Curzon, the Viceroy and Sir Andrew Fraser, the Govenor-General. For a report on the wedding from the Indian press, see the local press.

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Family Weddings 2004 and 2005

2009-01-24T04:33:00.000-08:00

Radha and Neil married in Sydney on 5th June 2004. The service was at St Mary's Church, and the reception at the Australian Golf Club. Click here for photos of the wedding and here for events around it.

Edward and Marijke married in Melbourne in October 2005. Click here for photos

Family Christmas 2003

2009-01-23T22:56:00.000-08:00

The family at Quay West Christmas 2003

The family came together at Christmas in December 2003 and for New Year. We stayed at Quay West and watched the fireworks from the balcony. The Australian cricket team were having a party on the next balcony.

Click the heading for some more photos

Lady 'Nina' Herbert (nee Arundel later Pugh) 1874 -1967

2009-01-22T23:48:00.000-08:00

Granny Nina with 'Step' (Sir Alfred Herbert) at Dunley c 1953 [Photo by Gavin Vapenik, his grandson]. Click the heading for more photos

My grandmother, Marion Fraser Arundel (known as Nina), was born in 1874 in India, the second daughter of Sir Arundel Tagg Arundel KCIS. Her elder sister was called Violet - always known as Vi - who married Evelyn Norie.

She married Archie Pugh - later Col AJ Pugh CBE, VD on 18th December 1904 in Calcutta Cathedral. He was a solicitor in Calcutta and and a member (and from 1912 Colonel) of the Calcutta Light Horse for 32 years. They had six children - Archie ((1908), Jimmie (1910), my mother Annette born in 1914, Ivor (1916), Michael (1918) and David (1922). The children were brought up mainly in Wales, at the family home at Cwmcodwig, Llanfarian. Their cousin Ruth Howard (born 1910) who remained a close friend all her life has written about their childhood in a short memoir here. An excerpt dealing with Nina and her family can be found here.

Col Archie Pugh died in Wales in 1923, aged only 52.

Nina remarried Sir Alfred Herbert KBE in September 1933 as his third wife and devoted herself to his business Alfred Herbert Ltd in Coventry and around the world and his estate at Dunley, in Hampshire. Step called her 'an angel' - and indeed she was a beautiful and gentle soul who loved poetry, studied Ramakrishna and other great texts and became a Christian Scientist. This latter teaching caused the only arguments between Step and Nina, when a doctor would be normally consulted but she demurred.

Nina Herbert beside her husband, Sir Alfred at Dunley. Left to right: Gladys Hollick (Alfred's eldest daughter by his first wife Ellen Ryley), Arthur Hollick, June Vapenik (their daughter), Gavin Vapenik, Ian Hollick, Nina Herbert, Alfred Herbert

After his death in 1957, she moved to Wadwick House (part of the Dunley Estate) with Mackenzie as housekeeper and other staff. She was accompanied everywhere by her spaniel 'Bramble'.

In 1960, she opened the Herbert Art Gallery and Museum in Coventry as well as conducting a number of other civic duties, such as attending the reconsecration of Coventry Cathedral.

She sadly suffered a stroke in 1963 and was nursed at home by two Sicilian nurses, Maria and Conchita until she died in 1967. She is buried in Wales.

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An Excerpt from Ruth Pugh's Memories of her Childhood

2009-01-18T03:42:00.000-08:00

One Christmas during the declaration* of war was spent in Uncle Archie and Aunt Nina's house Cwm Coedwig* & was very jolly. Nearly twenty children all first cousins must have gathered in this hospitable house. Saunders & nanny Howard were in change in the nursery * they were great friends. Nanny Howard [was] tall & thin with a very quite * & nanny Saunders round* rosy* & very forceful as she had had to be.
Ruth & cousin Annette who were to remain friends all their lives would argue with each other as to whose nanny was the best.

Annette had a pony called Creamy & was made to share it with Ruth. Uncle Archie would take his * small sons out to the local hunt. Griffith went too & either Annette or Ruth depending on whose turn it was. As the winter dusk fell the long hack home had to be done with pain & grief saddle sores & aching limbs to* the* blowing of horns* * * & good but the horses & ponies had to be put away rubbed down {20} & fed first.
Carols would be sung in the evenings. Aunt Nina played the piano & everyone danced Sir Roger de Coverly up & down the Hall which was decorated with fir & holly. It was an occasion for the little girls to wear frilly dresses & sashes Annette’s brother Archie gave Ruth a kiss behind the nursery door.

Ruth Pugh - later Stevens and Howard - from a brief memoir written in the early 1990s'. Click the heading for the full memoir

Ruth's Memories of her Childhood

2009-01-14T01:27:00.000-08:00

Annette, my mother, with David and Ruth in Wales c.1920

Ros y Gilwen / Morgenau – First World War

{1} It was a cold bright spring day when the children arrived with nanny –Alice Saunders – at Ros y Gilwen. Rooks were cawing & wood pigeons cooing. Sheep were in the big field under the ha-ha & a few early lambs bleated plaintively.
Griffith had ridden all the way from Shrewsbury sitting up * beside the chauffeur in front. He was very thin with round blue eyes & fiery red hair. As soon as the car drew up by the shallow wide slate steps he was out running about on spindly legs – he was a child who was into everything. His little sister Ruth, Baby as she was called, the youngest of the family was a sad sight. She was “delicate” so was bundled up into sheepskin coat, fleece outwards, on which she had been sick several times. Her red hair was hanging in bedraggled rats tails & her little face was pinched with misery. William & Margaret the butler & house parlour maid were there to greet them & he was carried inside & hurried away to be cleaned up before she could be hugged by her two eldest sisters, Veronica & Gwladys who had been left in charge of organising the move.
Lewis was still in India & Sophia in the house they had just left, Coton Manor near Shrewsbury, seeing to things.Already the furniture & staff had been installed - Mrs Jones, etc (*Doris Culverp*)
{1R} Lewis had not liked the Shrewsbury house [It was a?]pretty Kate Greenaway house, red brick with white painted* gable windows & a * with * * * & shrubs. Sophia loved [it?]. He was a countryman [&] there was nothing much for him to do & he craved to be back in Wales. Sophia loved the * – her county relatives came to call & she spent time going round antique shops & dealers choosing furniture & china.
There was a quarrel but Lewis got his way. He was also concerned about the looming clouds of war & wanted a place * large family where they could be safe & have good food. So Ros y Gilwen later called Morgenau was taken on a long lease & the family of five girls & one boy moved in * to live there through the war years. In a remote & beautiful {2} part of Wales.
Ros y Gilwen was a typical * country estate in that Pembrokeshire part of Wales in the early part of the century. Like the others* it* sat in the remote countryside entirely self sufficient, a home farm, a large garden, walled fruit, vegetable garden, a stable at back.
There were some bad times but on the whole that last summer was a happy one. Lewis, who was doing well by this time, came home from India every summer when the law courts closed & blissfully * he hacked* about his acres wearing a Norfolk jacket thick woollen socks & * * boots* long* & thin* with rounded toes. He carried a stout stick to scratch pigs * * & beat down nettles. He was a tall handsome man much liked by his workers to whom he spoke Welsh. The Welsh tradition was encouraged & the children learnt Welsh doing * * * the island story. Grandmother Pugh insisted on the Lord’s Prayer being said by even the youngest in Welsh & everyone [sang] {2R} the Welsh National anthem.
Sometimes Lewis would be accompanied by his daughters, Griffith too would go along but not Ruth who was considered too frail. Me too, me too she would say but no one took any notice & to make up she was allowed to make little cakes in the kitchen with Mrs Jones.
Sophia did not care [for] Wales, she was very English but she cultivated the local gentry & gave parties for the older girls. There were lots of young people in that part of Wales before the first war & lots of fun to be had. Transport was difficult & mostly bicycles & ponies were used.
One dear young man had a magnificent * Indian motor bike & used to roar* down the back avenue* * & the house to impress the girls. One day he took Ruth for a ride – her mother was furious & forbade him the house for a * “So dangerous now don’t you take a child if that * - the or *”. To the girls were all in love with him. He was to become a famous racing driver & was sadly killed driving home on one summer night.
{3} G & R still under nanny’s rule we [were] sometimes allowed down for dessert*. Frilled* white silk shirt, lacy dress* with wide satin sash & * necklace were worn. Ruth sat on Lewis’ knee & picked at grapes*. Snuggling* up * * & “making eyes” The girls were jealous, “Look at Miss Polly Pic* they sneered until told to be quite by Sophia. The dining room was panelled in dark oak – above the walls were painted royal blue & the windows * with mustard velvet curtains.
Ruth was given a pony, a small Welsh Grey called Tard. She was supposed to have a weak heart so was not allowed to bicycle with others. One great grief of the early life happened on frosty winter morning when all the ponies & horses were careering about the field & Tard slipped on the icy grass & fell snapping* her leg. She had to be shot by one of the uncles who happened to be staying.
Bad things were always connected to animals. Sophia’s black Pomeranian dog ran away & strayed into the * railway line & was crushed to death by an on-coming train. Dear* pigs were slaughtered, * * * heads cut off on a block in the stable yard & much loved cats invariably took to the wild. Occasionally the children {3R} Playing in the wild dingle near the garden glimpsed*them but they never came back in spite of * * & saucers of milk hopefully put out under the bushes.
That first Christmas all the family went* up to Granny’s house set on a very steep hillside with magnificent views on the estuary. Everyone was there, uncles, aunts, cousins & friends & of course the nannies. The children vied with each other as to whose nanny was the best. The two main contenders for the crown was the Cwmg*y family & *. One nanny was late * with grey hair & the other round* & stout with black hair * * grey & a rosy red face. They were great friends & sat always together in front of the nursery fire waited on by the nursery maid who brought them supper up on trays.
Plays were acted mostly historical & legendary scenes, games were played & there was singing round the piano & country dancing. It is hard to imagine how it all happened – the house must have been crammed full – but it did & one supposes expectations were not so high as nowadays & most people were {4} used to simple living. Of course there were the servants. Every household would have maids, under maids, boot boys & so on & it was not difficult or uncomfortable to live with someone always ready to bring in logs & make up fires, to take hot water up flights of stairs in jugs with* w* be * * placed in basins * with flowers & covered with freshly ironed damask face* and chamber pots under every bed, a slop pail which was emptied each morning. At Morgenau* there was one bathroom on the first floor & on the nursery floor a big hip bath which had to be filled with * cans – in winter it was placed in front of the nursery fire – the children loved this method of bathing. There was a lavatory encased in varnished wood with a pull up handle to flush the china bowl which was painted with willow pattern people. For some time Ruth could not understand how these people could survive* the flushing water. “Don’t be silly baby” said Griffie contemptuously they are painted people. Griffith was the fount of all knowledge as long as Ruth was concerned. He took her on to the farm & explained about birth & death & showed her * & calves being born until they were told to clear off. But how do the babies get there? Asked Ruth who was puzzled. Griffith whose rather sketchy knowledge did not quite {4R} run to this ran off shouting*. Ruth never did find out the facts of conception until many years later.
{6R} Life gradually settled down that first summer. Sophia was busy organising the household & furnishing the house; * * for Lewis * back from Calcutta for the summer break*. The elder girls (all four of them) were at school in Epsom with the unlikely motto of Sacria* Sanctification embroidered in gold or green on the pockets of the dark* blue blazers – Mrs Jones made delicious meals & brewed kettle* beer* & the housemaids sang about their work & giggled with the lamp boy & the delivery boys.
When the girls arrived home for the holidays they were shocked to find the little brother & sister “so ignorant” & at once set up a school room in a little room behind the big hall. The children were not enamoured of this & regular lessons given in there by V,G &P soon lapsed. There were other things to do, dresses to be made in new styles, new dances to be practiced. Calls were exchanged between the other big houses in the neighbourhood. Letters were exchanged sent by one of the farm boys on a pony – there was of course no telephone. Informal dos were arranged at short notice. Hops as they were called. There were a * of young men in the families around & friendships were made. A cottage was rented by the sea at Borth a long stretch of sand made bathing possible for even the youngest & getting* picnics among the sand dunes * {7} place * the weather. Picnics * place in the rock+y cove at Gwbert on sea near Cardigan - an isolated place with a row of neatly* build bungalows along the cliff & a small hotel with a magnificent view of the bay – a place of mystery for the young ones as no one went to * in the summer time. Sometimes Sophia & her American friend would join the party & sit on * * cliff well wrapped up in coats & hats while the young people shrimped & fished about in the rock pools for crabs. They never found any * * & tiny* grey strips with black eyes were cooked for tea on a primus stove gradually they turned pink. They were a little too small & R soon got tired of it besides she did not like the sizzling boiling water which was the shrimps death knell. The girls* could swim – in decent bathing dresses & frilly caps, the children jumped about in blue & white striped suits like a pair of comics shivering with cold & fear*.
{7R} Before the first world war there was a sudden in flux of American books. Huckleberry Finn, Brer Rabbit, Little Women & Beaufort* Jo & stories of the wild by Francis Thompson, * Jack London – a series about the American Sioux Indians - * * was called Deerskin* & became the idol of G & R who pleaded for Indian suits & ran about whooping & insisting on riding their ponies bare back.
{8} After Ruth recovered from her colitis* Saunders had to have a holiday. She did not get many nor indeed regular wages. Sophia regarded her as an appendage of the family & never thought that she might want a life of her own.
She had trained as a hospital nurse & had been engaged to a young man who went off to the war & was immediately killed. She must had a strong sense of duty for she gave up everything for the family for* whom* she was a loved member for many years first as nurse then housekeeper & lastly confidential maid & companion to Sophia who grew very stout in later years & made violent scenes often about money. Although Lewis earned well he was forced to give up his appointment as Judge of the High Court of Bihar & Orissa & go back to his more lucrative position as leader of the Bar in Calcutta where he had a great reputation as a pleader. He had an extravagant wife & six children to support. Sophia who herself had wanted to be a doctor & had trained at Bart’s hospital was a woman before her time & she insisted that all her girls (& her son of course) should have a good education & what* she called “A good chance in life”.
{9} Ruth was a nervous child – she was frightened of many things & when the screech owl called in the fir * outside the house she had a paroxysm of terror* & thought the witches had come for her & worse* screamed for her mother. Nanny would come running in her red flannel dressing gown & would pick up the child holding her in her arms & holding her tight against her capacious bosom until the screams stopped.
Other fears were of the * * boys in the Prescelly hills, a great picnic place but where if you were not careful you could slip on the emerald green grass & be sucked down * death.
When the winter winds lashed the trees outside the nursery window she imagined she was a boat on the sea & lots were being drawn for who was to be eaten. She invented a mantra for herself which she said again & again with eyes tight shut in the shelter of the bed. It was simply the words Roses & Violets endlessly & gave great comfort.
The house had been half shut up – the pretty honey coloured drawing room shrouded in dust sheet. Nanny & the children moved downstairs & used Sophia’s room & Lewis’ dressing room. The staff was reduced by *
{10} That first summer at R & the last one before the war was a magical time, Veronica had had a season in Calcutta & was discontented & bossy. She wanted * once to get married & have babies of her own – Gwladys was to go one* next* & would be followed by Phyllis, but during the war years they had to remain at school or rather school in Paris & come home for holidays. They were not quite grown up yet. The next winter S & Lewis returned to India where they were to get stuck for the duration of the war. Saunders had returned from her holiday & was as usual the lynch pin of the household. After war was declared there was [a] feeling of excitement – Young men enlisted, servants ran away to join up in whatever way they could, after* the * refugees from Begium started to arrive & books were published with pictures of children struggling across the Flanders plain, but the house, farm & garden were still a going concern & somehow winter was got through & eventually summer came. Young men injured returned from the front, in uniform with Sam Brown belts with shine like newly picked chestnuts, small moustaches. The sons of most of the big houses F*, P* Castle Malgwyn went* of[f to] the war anxious to be in it at the start as it was not expected to last very long. Nearly all of them were to be killed in France.
The country house gradually retreated {10R} behind closed blinds* & many never opened up properly again.
There were also many visitors at this time. They flirted with the girls & spoiled the children. He* brought a water pistol for Griffith & a cage of white mice for Ruth. A bugle appeared which everyone tried to blow without success. Finally it was given to Nan who later was to use it to summon the children into lunch or dinner as it was called in dark years & dinner had become supper, was to be eaten round the kitchen table.
The children now sleeping in the big spare room were curious about their elders behaviour. After they were supposed to be in bed they would hang [out of] one of the windows & try to hear what the sisters & their young men were saying as they sh* about.
{11} When the blow came that was to shatter this Elysian existence, Lewis gathered his whole household together in the dining* to announce * that England & Germany were at war. The bright summer light flooded through the bay windows highlighting the golden curtains & the family portraits on the blue walls, catching Lewis’ reddy* hair & the red gold heads of the assembled children * * white eyes. There was a feeling of excitement & awe – no one knew what to expect. For the very young children was associated with armour, crusader castles & brave deeds. The older girls had already begun to think & * * the possibility of war *& a feeling * * & fear. Stupid * * one of the maids giggled nervously, was quieted* by William. Most of the young men around were involved in join[ing] up & some already had their uniforms & the girls would soon begin classes to become VADs. [Voluntary Aid Detachment]
{11R} Many arrangements would have to be made as Lewis & Ada with him would return to Calcutta. Life for everyone would be completely changed as * set* in*. All the girls were at boarding school or in Paris & the little ones would be left in charge of nanny – Mr Worth* would continue to oversee the farm & gardens & it seemed possible that life would more or less continue as usual. No one foresaw the inevitable decline as it was thought the war would not last long.
Gradually the staff left* Williams* Margret* every one [of] the maids were to go into munitions factories & the boys to become soldiers, but for Griffith & Ruth innocent in their unawareness * for the next few years they* were in paradise. Nanny looked after them & provided & left them free to run wild provided they came in for meals. Later she was given a bugle said to be German which everyone tried to blow. Nanny used it to summon the children in to meals but often they did not want to come & said they thought it was an old cow mooing. Their best friend * * the son of Mr Worth* - the three spent nearly all their time together. Henry* was a pale boy with a pudding basin hair cut of mouse coloured hair. He was terrified of his father & said What will my Da say he’ll take the strap to me if he finds out.
Mr Worth* was rather * an Englishman* {12} but Mr Worth was kind & rather downtrodden it was supposed. The children were sometimes asked what* but they didn’t like it very much. They were both anxious that everyone should know their place & didn’t encourage the children friendship *.
There were some games of which he certainly would have disapproved. They took place in the laurel shrubbery outside the back yard gate & were in the nature of explorations. The boys would vie with each other who could pee the furthest & Ruth took down her knickers to see how she was different. There was some innocent fumbling* about – psychologists would say the very early awakenings of sexual awareness. Interest was lost very quickly & the laurel game abandoned. Henry’s father would have had a fit if he had known.
As winter drew on the children were taken to Cardigan to buy clogs – the leather uppers were * & had to be buffed with dubbin, the soles were of wood shod with iron it was desirable to pad out a bit with thick woollen socks. The clogs were lined up in the back passage outside the kitchen & took on lives of their own – it was a terrible thing when small feet become too big & the once friends had to be abandoned. Iron hoops were * along with hooks made out of the straightened handles of old buckets – wooden {12R} hoops were considered ridiculous & sissy. Griffith had a big * & Ruth a smaller * one much like themselves. The clatter made by the iron hoops * * was deafening as they * across the flagged back yard. There wasn’t much in the way of toys – a few * of various kinds & * with long * used for cutting * etc. * * & books. * * of the war a new set of books appeared about Zeppelins. It * * Zeppelin & a family of baby Zeppelins attached to the parents with strings * we thought they were silly & didn’t last long * & children’s paper, the school stories began to have spies* in them which was very exciting.
{13} As autumn & winter came things began gradually to decline. Ada went back to India while she could, thinking it was her duty to be with Lewis. “No one can look after your husband but other people can look after your children” she said often, leaving them in the charge of faithful Saunders. Mr Worth was to run the farm & life was to continue as usual. The war would not last long. But soon the farm workers, the maids & boys * the place drifted away. Williams & Margaret* were followed by Mrs Jones – old William* Daniels was left to cope with the large walled garden which he kept locked behind a heavy wooden door in the brick wall. He became very bent & hobbled about with his stick getting more & more cross – He disliked the children anyway – they climbed into his mushroom shed through a hole in the roof & stamped about in the loamy* soil & ran along the high slate capped garden walls. Eventually Mr Worth too was to go. The elder girls were VADs, the middle ones were at boarding school & came & went but found the old house depressing & life very dull with all the young people gone. Soon they too went about their own affairs leaving Griffith & Ruth in possession of Eden. The children did not mind, they were happy, they had each other & their own {14} secret world & private language. Other people were something of an intrusion.
On one visit Phyllis was shocked at the lack of discipline & decided that the children should start education. She set up a * in the small library behind the big hall & called it the “school room”. She bought copy books with unlikely sayings like “The sun shines in summer”, “Children must tell the truth” “Goodness is better than wealth” & set out simple sums but her efforts were not successful. “I am very board” wrote Ruth to her brother & Griffith gazed into space & refused to learn. It was soon given up. As the year dragged into winter with no let up – life became increasingly hard for Saunders. She had no time to discipline the children & the only rules were that they must come in for meals, they must leave the clogs in the back passage by the kitchen & Ruth was not to go out without a wide woollen scarf crossed on her chest & secured behind her back with a safety pin. They always wore clogs in the winter, these were made of coarse leather with wooden soles shod with iron. Nanny rubbed dubbin into the uppers when she had time & with their woollen socks they were very comfortable & became good friends. The children hated having to have new ones as their feet grew. {15} They made a terrible clatter on the stone flags of the back yard & added to this was the sound of iron hoops which were beaten along with the straightened handles of old buckets. The * at the end * on to hoops & they could be batted* along at high speed. The child only knew about wooden hoops from pictures & considered them very “sissy”.
In spite of the lack of education reading aloud was the greatest pleasure in the dark evenings before a good log fire in the big hall.
The Beatrix Potter books, Alice in Wonderland which they thought very silly, Strewel Peter & Nonsense Rhymes, a funny book about a family of Zeppelins, father, mother & baby moving* about* on London – they graduated to the Tarzan books, school stories about Spurs* - Saints* later on Shakespeare & Gulliver’s Travels, Robinson Crusoe in children’s editions – these were great favourites. The children ran about in perfect freedom, if they were naughty no one knew about it & they were very happy. Of course there were squabbles from time to time. Griffith would inform Ruth “Today we will go right down to the bottom of the dingle” & Ruth would reply “No we wont, I want to * * * * up the marigolds* for the cows.” Don’t be sill baby, cows don’t eat marigolds, you can’t”. “Yes I can” {16} Evan said I could “Anyhow I’m not silly, you are. You can’t even say your alphabet. Anyway cows do eat marigolds.”
“The trouble with you baby is you don’t know what’s what & what’s not.” A great pronouncement to which there was no reply.
As time went on there was strict rationing. Everything became scarce. Inspectors came round to see if food was being hoarded, the horses, except for the pony & some of the farm animals were requisitioned & driven off. Young soldiers were billeted in the house & eventually the * came to cut down the huge trees in the dingle for props to shore up the trenches. The children loved* these great brawny* neck* with * noses* beards & thick woolly hats. All day the sound of their two handed saws & great axes which two men wielded in turn filled the dingle. The great trees fell leaving spikes on the stumps which looked like fairy castles with towers & battlements. The logs were hauled up to the road on the far side of the woods with chains attached to heavy horses. It was very * & the children spent much time down there being petted* & given sweets & made much* of – supposedly men were homesick far from home & their own families. {17} The billeted soldiers were not so nice. Nanny disapproved of them & bullied them. They were ordered to be in by ten* o’clock at night when the back door was locked. If they were not in they would have to sleep in the back yard. This they frequently did & told the children gruesome tales of being bitten by rats. And then the food inspector came to call. Mr Williams – after a look round the place he came to look in the house but he was no match for Saunders. She showed him the almost empty store room & sweetened him up with cups of scalding hot tea & then accompanied him into the big hall. There he saw Griffith & Ruth sitting side by side on the sofa with their * heads* bent over books. They looked up at Mr Williams with round enquiring blue eyes & he was charmed. He looked at the books. So it’s Welsh is it he remarked with a smile & went away. Once off the premises the children jumped about with shouts of joy & helped Saunders to carry out the tins of sugar & sacks of flour & * * & some special tins which had been hidden under & behind the sofa, back into the store room.
Poor Saunders must have had a dull time when she was not too tired to go to see the Worths & occasional visit from the district nurse who would come with her son {18} Frank a gangling boy of about 12. Nan & her friend would * & the children including rather * Frank would play Snakes & Ladders or Ludo or some such game. Then there would be cocoa & [a]way on her bicycles in * dark night.
Once a week there was a trip to Cardigan, about 5 miles away in the pony trap. The pony had been spared the requisitioning because it was too small. They would trundle into the small town & first visit Mrs Owen in the chemist shop & then on to Nanny’s friend * Jones the fishmonger who kindly allowed her to stable the pony & trap in his yard while they went to the cinema. This was an enormous treat – films were shown in a sort of hall with a corrugated iron rood & a tinny piano. Sometimes if it rained hard it was impossible to hear the piano at all. The favourite films were The Thief of Baghdad [1924], The Mark of Zorro [1920] etc & Douglas Fairbanks was the hero.
Bewitched by the * * later they would trundle home in the darkening night with a carriage lamp lit by a candle on each side of the trap. They did not give much light but the pony knew his way & they came safely home. Then there would be a supper in front of the kitchen range.

India Trip, Probably winter 1913/14
It was fortunate that S was a good organiser for Lewis was too busy making money to support the large family to take much part in the administration. It must have been quite a problem. One winter S took the two youngest & nanny of course back to Calcutta for the cold weather. Torn as she always was between husband & children it seemed the best thing to do.
There are few memories of this time but a picture of a big square white house with a veranda, a colonnaded porch on whose steps sat a Chaprassi dressed in white with a scarlet sash who carried messages, letters* to the post & he knew exactly everything that went on, all of which was relayed to the other servants in the go-down* at the back of the house where they slept & cooked their currys by the light of a flaming* kerosene lamp & laughed & exchanged gossip in their free time.
The children love it there were children’s parties, visits to the Zoo a very splendid place, drives & rides on ponies & Lewis’ horse & walks to the Maidan. In charge Ayah, who would sit round in a circle with all the other Ayahs under a p*ple tree while their charges messed about among themselves.
G was always an original, on one occasion of a children’s party the carriage was ordered for nanny to take the two children. “Nan you sit in front with Hussein* & baby & I will sit in the back”. It will be quite alright insisted G. Nan saw no harm in it. She may have thought they just wanted to play at being Ladies & Gentlemen which they sometime used to do. She agreed & off they set. {5} As they rolled* down the red road Nan noticed passers by laughing & shaking their heads but thought nothing of it until she saw someone pointing. She looked round & saw Griffith sitting up with his solemn little face adorned by a black moustache with waxed points which he had got out of a cracker. Ruth sitting beside him had been vowed to silence was* was hastily * that took * place between the two Ruth in hopeless giggles.
On another occasion with the carriage the horse shied & the side wheels fell into the ditch beside the built up road. Ruth was thrown out & dislocated hip but Nan who had been trained as a nurse at Barts hospital was able to get the hip in again & after a few days in bed strapped up, the child recovered with no lasting bad effects.
It came to an end with the happiest memories of Sunday expeditions to the Zoo when they mingled happily with the Indian families & their children & visits to the Ezra* family who lived in a big house of birds parakeets * * * minah*. They had a huge garden & collected up animals, small deer & monkeys & so on. Sophia loved* going there – Lady Ezra was a large woman lavishly dressed in colonial style & she gave tea parties for lady friends & was famous for her * puffs*. One day S was taking the {5R} the children with her had forgotten the children in the * of the party & they ran out to play in the gardens. In one secluded patch there was a huge & very fierce monkey who had to be kept chained up. When Sophia came to & called to the children there was no response. The garden was searched & the two were eventually found sitting happily one on each side of the dangerous monkey who had his arms round their necks. He did not wish to let them go nor did they wish to return to boring everyday life.
Sadly on the way home a tragedy occurred * family * for a loss of duty with the Indian * service was on the same ship. When the bugle sounded the parents kissed the children good night leaving them in charge of the cabin steward went up to dinner. The little girl was feverish & cried a lot. When the mother came down after dinner no baby ** But where’s the baby she asked. The little boys rather shamefacedly replied “Oh she cried & cried & when we told her to stop she wouldn’t so we said that if she went on with that we would put outside. She did not stop. Between them they forced open the porthole which was secured {6} With a huge screw nut & pushed the baby out.
Christmas with Uncle Archie
One Christmas during the declaration* of war was spent in Uncle Archie & Aunt Nina’s house Cwm Goedweg* & was very jolly. Nearly twenty children all first cousins must have gathered in this hospitable house. Saunders & nanny Howard were in change in the nursery * they were great friends. Nanny Howard [was] tall & thin with a very quite * & nanny Saunders round* rosy* & very forceful as she had had to be.
Ruth & cousin Annette who were to remain friends all their lives would argue with each other as to whose nanny was the best.
Annette had a pony called Creamy & was made to share it with Ruth. Uncle Archie would take his * small sons out to the local hunt. Griffith went too & either Annette or Ruth depending on whose turn it was. As the winter dusk fell the long hack home had to be done with pain & grief saddle sores & aching limbs to* the* blowing of horns* * * & good but the horses & ponies had to be put away rubbed down {20} & fed first.
Carols would be sung in the evenings. Aunt Nina played the piano & everyone danced Sir Roger de Coverly up & down the Hall which was decorated with fir & holly. It was an occasion for the little girls to wear frilly dresses & sashes Annette’s brother Archie gave Ruth a kiss behind the nursery door.
Another Christmas
{22R} The Christmas was spent at Cwmera* Granny Pugh * * dower house north of Aberystwyth. It was quite a small house but everyone was crammed* in. the nannies in charge * children managed somehow * they were great friends. {23}
The house was of grey stone in the Teifi valley looking towards the Prescelly hills from where the great stones of Stonehenge were brought, dragged somehow for over a hundred miles in the days of the Druids.
The house was capacious & comfortable one once * solid * with Jacobean style windows. It was capacious & comfortable in good Victorian style. There was a wide oak* staircase * which was the side door set with stained glass, blue & yellow. The westerly sun flooded through making patterns on the flagged hall floor more brilliant than any carpet. After a few weeks everyone had settled down to the usual routine of country house living of the period.
The older girls had already installed themselves in the first floor bedrooms across the hall landing from mother’s room & father’s dressing room.
Brass cans of hot water were brought up by the maids several times a day * * *. Ruth * to be a * mother’s room while she changed for dinner. {23R} The Rector came to tea bringing with him two of the choir boys. One was chubby with round face & chestnut hair & the other * with thinner features. The girls promptly fell in love with them & they became one of the * subjects for confidences in bed at night. Going to church became an excitement. The boys sang like angels & were quite uninterested in the simpering little girls in their pretty hats. {24} It was a very happy time spent at Cwmgoedwig* for the two little girls. It was a change from boys. Confidences & imaginings* were exchanged in bed at night. They were interested in clothes, Annette’s nanny always saw that they were properly dressed. * night Annette’s long dark * hair was * up in * * & tied at the top * * *.
Aunt Nina took them shopping in Aberystwyth Annette had a pink coat & a pink straw hat finished* with velvet ribbons rose buds & daisies. Ruth was very jealous & to comfort her advice was taken from Mrs --- about a hat for her. It had to match the yellow coat with the black velvet collar which had caused such disaster. Eventually a yellow straw [hat?] was done to be trimmed with black velvet ribbons & buttercups & a few forget-me-nots for “contrast”. Ruth loved [it] & christened it * but the elder sisters made fun it & called it sissy & *. The time came to * * as a house had been found further down the valley. The girls came to * pack up & take Ruth away the hat was packed in its box together with all the other bags & bundles into an open touring car.
Later the priceless hat could not be found & Ruth cried & accused her sisters of having [left] it behind. Oh no they said, {24R} said it must have blown off the back of the car. Ruth never forgave them.
Annette’s mother, Aunt Nina was a glamorous creature with soft blonde hair piled up on her head & very pale blue eyes. She * about in blowing old * chiffon & played the piano & sang when the children came down to the dining room in the evenings. One evening just when uncle Archie was * return to India he too sat listening & suddenly started to cry – tears ran down his cheeks & he *. The children were ushered quickly away without understanding why he was crying.
Perhaps he had something hurting inside. They fled away to the safety & security of the nursery & cocoa & ginger biscuits. Very* small children have not the equipment to question, understand or analyse, like animals they accept was[sic] is done to them with a vulnerability that strikes deep into the heart.
The realisation that an adult could suffer pain (for reasons they did not understand) was a shock to the little girls. The protective shell of * * childhood was rudely* *. So grown ups could have feelings & sorrow & pain? Such things were * * had been accepted * suddenly became * as happening to other {25} people in the outside world. A small loss of * occurred & a step towards growing up.
Nobody talked to the children about the facts of life – it was not considered good for them to know & questions were expertly ignored or falsely answered with fables of gooseberry bushes or storks etc. It was Griffith who told Ruth that babies were born like cows having calves * later to **, but conception remained an unfathomable mystery for many years. She was getting fat & had to explain why. At this time they became interested in the human body particularly breasts – having none themselves, they speculated wildly. A land girl was sent by the authorities to keep on the farm. She was a big strong buxom girl & wore open necked shirts, khaki breeches. She * a * * top of the house & the children became very fond of her & would * her* into their room* at bed time. She would tell them stories & lean* on their beds so that they had a good view of the cleavage between her young firm breasts as they wound their arms round her neck & pulling her close. They were sad when she left.

{25R} Soon the baby was born another boy. At prayer time Annette was told to thank God for the birth of another brother. Thank you God she said as instructed I’ve got two* already & they are so lovely. Poor child she was to have two more.
In the Jan* Welsh countryside everybody hunted in those days from the landed gentry on their smart polished horses down to the farm lands[?hands] with * tied below the knee with twine* * hacking the clumsy farm horses with feathery feet. At everybody’s first kill blooding had to take place. A du* * smear* of the fox’s last * * life blood had to be daubed on the cringing* cheek. & reluctant or not one became a member of the hunt. * * * long to survive into the years ahead.
Annette had a pale* pony called Creamy. You must share him with Ruth said her mother. “I don’t want [to] he’s mine, I won’t” Her father said she must share things so a reluctant* Ruth was made to go on alternate days trailing slowly on the fat* Creamy. On these long days & the long hack back in the late afternoon as a pale moon shone in the darkening {26} sky & frost crisp beneath the feet. The soreness of legs & bottom shifting from side to side to ease the pain & longing beyond all caring for the day to be over. Too tired even to have the bacon & eggs. The only consolation was a birthday present of a beautiful * * silver sandwich tin* in its own leather case with * stamped in black which could be buckled on to the saddle * * a small snack at a lull whilst the hounds drew yet another cover.
When the boys came home from school there was a good deal of ragging & silly jokes, sardines were played in the evenings with much giggling & there were kisses behind the nursery door. The little girls were glad when they went away & left them to their womanly* chores. They c* sheep* * the * valley & were sometimes allowed to take the older little boys out in the p*.
The drive at Cwm was steeply cambered & fell away at eastern* side in shrubberies. One day the p* went out of control & heavily weighted it plunged* down the side * fell onto its *. The little boys were astonished but unafraid* but the girls were aghast with much heaving they got the p* upright & fled down to the safety of the road which led past the farm gate. Don’t tell, {26R} don’t tell they admonished each other & the boys who did not know where they should not tell. It had all been a great excitement.
After Morgenau – Bridell and Trip to India
{27} The following autumn mother decided to take Ruth back to India with her. She hated being without a child & always had one in bed beside her if possible. Griffith was at prep school & was to spend the Christmas holiday with Miss Tate.
The house in Wales was shut up – shrouded in dust sheets with Saunders & Lewis the butler left in charge as usual. Lewis was very * not pompous at all, during the winter he wore father’s boots & drank the wine in the cellar.
Meanwhile Granny Pugh had moved from Cwmeran* - the steep hill was too much for her - & gone to live in a villa on the road to Aberystwyth. She was kind & forbearing & always had a cup of tea & a piece of bread & butter to give to the itinerant tramps who passed up & down the county. Gradually she got a name for her good hearted * & became a recognised stopping off place for the travelling people who passed that way.
Unfortunately they exploited her & the end of the agreeable arrangement came when * some of them* unaware* of the existing tradition & respect in which* granny was held, stole grandfather’s gold watch & the cook’s winter vests. The family put a stop to it. {28} So childhood * on – experiences of many homes, many people * one them. They stretched* & grew up. Peaceful acceptance was * & *. Childish things were put aside & troubles y*ings undertaken. Nothing would ever be the same. {29} The departure from Ros y Gilwen was the flight from paradise. The gates closed behind them & the children were kept apart. A * which lasted all their lives. G* [looks like E] had to go to school & Ruth had to stay with friends & relatives until another house could be found.
Eventually Plas y Bridell was bought & as usual Saunders was put in charge. It was a large comfortable house with a slate roof & stone paved hall & had a huge beech tree on a mound overshadowing the less good rooms where the children slept. It did not have the elegance or charm of the old house. After the family left it became a convent of unclosed order [of] nuns who cut down the beech tree & spoilt the original & most attractive feature of a not very attractive property.
The transition period was a lonely time for Ruth – her beloved brother at school & she spent time alone with nanny with occasional visits to friends of her mother who had two slightly older nieces who came to stay & thrilled Ruth with their glamorous clothes & ballet dancing & talk of “going on the stage”. She had a very lazy & obstinate donkey to * her the few miles to their house. Sometimes the donkey would stop to munch the wayside grass & refuse to move until Ruth had to get off & pick a switch out of the hedge to encourage it to move on.
Mother possibly aware of the lonely little girl decided to take her out to India in the autumn when Ruth was ten*. They would spend the cold weather in Calcutta & come home for the summer & Ruth would then go to boarding school, St Monica’s, in the autumn.
A butler had to be engaged to * the house in Wales, Lewis, who was to remain for some time – when the family [was away?] he & Saunders ran the house. Lewis could turn his hand anything & * his duties as butler to take in the * of the chickens & cutting up wood. He was a rubicund & jolly person & thought of himself as head of the establishment. He wore father’s boots & happily drank his way through the cellar in the long dark evenings. For the summer a ladies maid was installed to look after mother’s & the girls’ clothes. She loved handkerchiefs & gloves & was rather genteel. She did not last long, there was also a chauffeur, a well educated man who had fallen on hard times. The girls used to invite him into the * room for parlour* games in the evening after mother had gone to bed – she would not have approved, he was paid £3 a week.
{31} When the family departed together* to India the house was shut up & Saunders & Lewis were left in charge.
The whole family except for Ros* & Griffith at school out for Paris where to buy clothes for the girls. They stayed at the St James d’ * hotel in the Rue de *, an old Palace* with a big courtyard behind iron gates. There were long red carpeted passages down which Ruth used to run helter-skelter*with the maids doing the rooms. It ws the only exercise she got & she longed to stretch her legs. Everyone was too busy to take her for a walk.
Long hours were spent at the dressmaker Madame M had a “salon” at the top of a tall old house in the Rue d’ Alsace* which had a creaky very small lift all * & * & holding two people or one if it was mother who had become very stout. Up up clanging & creaking & at the top * Madame Mayerne* who continued to make dresses for all the girls until she became very grand & successful. Evening dresses were ordered, dresses for the races & tea dances & “* for mother” & Ruth was not left out. She had a thin* wool dress, * with a pleated skirt * * collar with a narrow* ribbon of royal blue & a * blue taffeta one checked with white with a huge bow on the behind. The blue * {32} Une petite fille vous * madame.
And then came the account, Mother would wave it aside “Send it to my husband” She would say “Mais cher madame monsieur ne pay pas”
Nonsense, of course he will pay. Poor Mme Mayerne*, she was terrified of * her husband & mother. In * she would call for her husband a huge buffalo of a man with a * face. The two would confront each other with rage across the * salon. Madeline* Bent* the fitter would cower* behind the door & the little assistants would giggle behind their hands.
* madame bellowed M if the note* is unsettled the dresses will not be made & stormed out of the room. Of course the dresses were finished in time – mother was far too good a client & had sent her so many of her friends & of course the bill was paid. But father could never accept Mother’s* determination that her daughters should be properly dress to take their place in the Calcutta season. Mother had the reputation for having the best dressed daughters & the best look in Calcutta.
Ruth hated the rows about money, she would slink* away but in later life she was grateful for all mother’s struggles. The Aberystwyth cousins, the other side of the family stayed in their Welsh home behind the * of the hydrangeas in the new {33} house with * peacocks* on the * which * *. In Griffith Evans had built for is retirement as * * * general* in Calcutta.
The Evans side of the family took after their Strachan grandmother – they were dark & skin with more delicate features than the red headed * cousins. Aunt Emma was like a porcelain figure with piled up white hair “which turned white in a night” after some shock or other. She wore a black velvet ribbon choker round her neck in mourning for those who died as victims of the F* *. Uncle Griffith’s son Lewis who won a VC in the first world war took the daughter to live with him after the death of their parents & there they stayed their whole lives – only one married. Probably they had happier lives than their cousins but less interesting.
The next call was to Marseilles where Mother, father, two sisters & Ruth were to embark * the P&O Liner Kaiser* * considered very up to * & fast* * was full of ants that got into everything. But first gloves had to be bought, long white kid gloves for the balls & * for the races – Marseilles was at that time well known for glove makers.
Ruth made a friend * * ship * - her father was a colleague of * & later they were to do lessons together with two {34} other children in a large shady garden* of a house in Ballygunge a suburb of Calcutta.
That year they lived in a big flat newly constructed & standing in a large garden with grass & many flowering trees. There was a big veranda shaded in the midday heat by green Ch* which the servants let down every morning & rolled up in the evening to let in the cool air.
The veranda had * trees & a huge cage for birds, * finches* & cheeky * green parakeets with red heads. There was also a grey parrot who sat on a stand & * sun flower seed which he then spat out on the floor*. Ruth would have liked a little monkey but this was not permitted but she did have a nice fat roan pony called by the unlikely name of Pamela Pudding.
In the morning she would ride with her father * horse* Boudicca was slow & stately. They would progress down park St to the Maidan then on to the race course where they would greet friends & go home. The * would be waiting squatting under the trees & would produce from the folds of their clothes pieces of sugar cane & small bananas* which the horses loved.
{35} Ruth loved to help her sister dress for evening parties. Mme Mayerne had made their beautiful dresses. For Gwladys a very full skirt of white * with little garlands & dark pink* silk flowers* here* & there & for Phyllis a a * * style in pale yellow * taffeta with a huge water lily & * hanging* * the waist. These were the best dresses for the ball at Government house. Their daytime dresses were made of Indian cotton by the * who sat on the veranda holding the material between the toes of one foot, thus giving him three hands to hold the stuff * for hemming* & seaming*. He had a little sewing machine which hummed along while the birds trilled & sounds of clashing brass utensils & conversation drifted up from the compound where the servants lived. The * * had some sort of meal to eat & Ruth used to mix it up with water in little brass bowls.
The girls had lots of admirers as they were called & on Sunday evenings mother* often* had open house & any friends could come to dance*. Often there were fourteen or so & there would be lots of games & singing. Ruth had a friend a tall dark young man who always seemed a bit apart from the others. She was allowed to stay up for dinner {36} * night & if there were thirteen people he & Ruth would sit at a little table by themselves as mother was superstitious about the number thirteen.
Quite often in the evenings when the setting sun flamed behind the big * & bats * about in the palms – would call in to see Ruth. He would * a while & they would play cards & on the evenings when everyone was out & the * & * * * * * & Ruth would hang over the veranda * hoping hoping that he would come.
She was soon to be the years * * * was just before Christmas & was a good excuse for a party & he arranged a * & picnic party. The * would set off with the horses some time before & the servants in a ghari* horse drawn * to carry the picnic to the outskirts of the * where the jungle & paddy fields began. The girls invited all the many* people they liked best but when Ruth pleaded for her friend Alis* to be included she was told it was not possible “He hasn’t got a pony – it would be too many” & so on. Ruth burst into tears with hatred in her heart. She complained bitterly on his next visit but he said never mind you * {37} ride together. No wonder she was in love with him. They were to meet again years later at somebody’s wedding & it was his turn to fall in love. He wanted them to get married but nothing came of it although their friendship continued. He had * married no children & the marriage ended in divorce. He must have seen the child of whom he had been so fond, grown into a desirable woman on whom he could lavish all his care & devotion. Sadly during the 2nd world war he fell from a balcony in a flat in Cairo & was killed, No one knew if it was suicide or an accident.
After the War & Briddell
The end of the war was a sad time. Father who had taken so much trouble to establish his family in his homeland was begged by his old friend Richardson to relinquish the lease. He had had a very good offer to sell to a Birmingham industrialist & he did not want to refuse. Father felt he could not stand in his old friend’s way & plans had to be made to get another house. The family were on the move again. Eventually another house was found (description) but the intervening months & weeks were not good ones. Griffith went off to school & Ruth was sent to friends & relatives. One visit was to Mrs * (description). At last P y B was bought – Griffith was able to come back for the holidays & all the old family things appeared from storage & made the place like home. The children were all excited but it was not the same as in the old paradise days. He was * & grown up & a lot more bossy than usual but as something of the old life was restored he relaxed & happily climbed the great {40} beech tree outside the house & made stews with a snared rabbit, potatoes & onions in a fir wood at the end of the drive. He borrowed a rather* old pot from Mrs Jones. Still with * * * was only a rubbish* old* one* & the stew burnt* with a nauseous smell. As autumn approached the parents left for India, Griffith went back to school & the house was half closed down i* dust sheets. Ruth was left with nanny & the butler Lewis who had agreed to stay on as general factotum. He & Saunders would keep the place going. Lewis was [a] rubicund* jolly* person & Ruth loved going with him to feed the chickens & pigs.
During the winter he established himself comfortably in the servants hall & helped himself freely to father’s cellar & borrowed some of his clothes notably father’s boots.
Anxious probably about her youngest daughter’s isolation & always wanting to have one of her children with her, mother decided to take Ruth out to India with her in September & so began another period of changes. The patient resignation & acceptance of which young children have to bear has always astonished me – their vulnerability is so *. They must accept – they cannot do otherwise & are at everyone’s mercy.

Schooldays
On their return Ruth would go to boarding school where all her sisters had been. It was a {41} strict school run by two ladies - * Miss Brown who was in charge of the girls’ general welfare & * * beneath* Jones who looked after the scholastic side. She was * graduate a “blue stocking” & it was due to her efforts that the school flourished & provided an excellent education. Sadly she suffered from what would now be called depression. Suddenly she would appear with a * in her eyes & instruct the wholw school to assemble & be put to work * the hymn books in * oiled cloth. They all knew that this heralded Miss HJ’s departure & she would not be seen again * the next term. A*y her* friend’s * came as visiting * * Vera P* * B’s * Claire Leighton & Winfred *by – Felix Swinstead Sir John Maimolt*. The school was strict – no talking in the bedrooms, getting up at 6.45 washing behind screens* * * bath three* a week. Beds had to be made & clothes folded & prayers at 8.30. The school motto was service* & sanctification* which was emblazoned on the girls * blue blazer’s pockets in gold thread.
Ruth settled down happily at school * on school stories by Angela B* she was pleased to be with * of her own age. She was quick to learn & good at games, especially gymnastics, presumably from her {42} earlier experience in tree climbing but gradually the restrictions & rules began to be tedious & she longed to be free. Although generally aiming to please, she became something of a revolutionary & found it hard to conform. She grew up individual & *some unsubdued by school regulations. Ada did not encourage conformity, she knew that Ruth would safely stay under Miss Brown’s hand & she had no patience with “silly” regulations about school uniform etc. Which was * macc*filed or vyella shirts & * gym * * mauve dresses for changing into for afternoon games.
Ruth outfit was made as usual by M. Mayerne in one of the flying trips to Paris en route for India. * of navy she had a royal blue coat, * blouses * made of * * & the changing-into dress instead of dull mauve was pale cyclamen crepe de chine with petunia trim – She was sketchily kitted out with regulation liberty bodice & black woollen stockings & pyjamas. Matron had to provide the missing required items including woollen combinations for the winter & * *.
Occasionally a sister would come for visiting day but mostly these like holidays were spent with school friends longing for freedom from the straight jacket of {43} of school regulations. At the same time she longed for permanence – for parents who actually came * * who could be relied on & who provided comfortable suburban homes for their children with thick carpets & eiderdowns & * bathrooms. She was to be at St. Monicas for six years & during that time childhood was finally left behind.
42R
Epilogue at Morgenau
The years passed & although Ruth was supposed to be delicate it was Griffith who succumbed to a bout of pneumonia. Poor nanny as if she did not have enough on her shoulders. For the cherished heir, the only boy in a family of 5 girls & he to get so ill that he nearly died. Nanny & Ruth sat by the big fire in the bedroom (all the coal had to be hauled up from the yard but the child had to be kept warm) & several* jackets for him made of cotton wool & an old sheet. Nanny kept guard on the poor child who steadily * & his tortured breathing filled the room – is he going to die? Asked Ruth terrified. Nothing* * it replied nanny. The doctor, * *, came every day in his pony trap or on a bicycle through the dark evenings then one evening as the sky darkened & owls hooted in the fir plantation ne * stood beside Griffith’s* bed as the child’s breathing eased & he opened his eyes “Good” pronounced the doctor, the fever has broken & the crisis is past, he will live & now we must do everything to get him better, Nanny did not take her clothes off for many days & was dead tired. Her devotion undoubtedly saved Griffith’s life & he made a quick recovery, but the strain had been too much for nanny. She could cope no longer & Gwladys had to be sent for. She was working at a hospital at Eta*les & the commandant * reluctant to let her go. We can’t spare {43R} You as more casualties are expected daily. Permission to leave is refused.
All G’s innate stubbornness & determination came welling up, she stuck out her chin* & said “I must be relieved Ma’am – I have to look after my small brother & sister who need me. I have to go with the weight of responsibility * * too soon * & life called on. That autumn it looked as if the was was over – Armistice was declared & everyone to * to join in the rejoicing. There were bands & choirs flag waving & all the lights wee lit. All the children * about & people hu*ed each other & shouted & sang. But there were sad faces that evening for many of the young men who had gone so cheerfully to war had died in that dreadful carnage. Years later it was all to start up again, the waste, the grief, the agonies, will they never learn.
Meanwhile mother & father were stuck in India & would not get home until spring. The children’s full* life continued – they ran about in the day & well muffled up in the evenings. Chestnuts were roasted in a brass box with a long handle which was * on the burning logs. Ludo, snakes & ladders were played & hoops made. Ruth was shown how to knit. There was never any shortage of food. Butter meat* {44R} & * & eggs came from the farm & there were mushrooms & blackberries in season.
Old William* Daniels still tended the garden as well as he could so there were vegetables. There was a shortage of all tinned food which had to be bough on coupons & the greatest treat was a tin of peaches or a tin of sardines.
She became mother’s confidential friend during her bad times. She put up with the rages, menopausal difficulties p* with calmness & good sense. She had beautiful handwriting & would write many of mother’s letters for her.
{45} Alice Saunders, daughter of a butcher in Cambridge* had trained as a nurse which was why she came to look after Ruth. Round faced & red cheeked with a bun of black hair striated* with grey. She was a comely woman. Mother called her Saunders or nurse & to the family she was Nan or Nanny. She was much loved by everyone. She devoted her whole life to the family & took everything that happened in her stride with patience & humour. She was really a saint. It was rumoured that she had had a young man who had gone to the war & been killed. She never married. As the children grew older & went off to school she would go to other people who needed her – She nursed Annette’s grandfather through his terminal illness. ( he * * in his will) & was always sent for when anyone needed help. She was to nurse Phyllis when she died as a result of a disastrous riding accident & to go to Griffith’s young wife to nurse & help* with his first born son David – a tragically defective child due to his mother contracting German measles during her pregnancy. In the Second World War she was to stay with Ruth when her husband was away serving with the Royal Navy. Nanny would listen to her anxieties & comfort her while brushing her long red hair as she had always done all her life when Ruth was a child.
{46} That last summer before the outbreak of the first world war life was normal in an English country house. Father walked around his garden & farm whacking at things with a stout* ash stick & poking at his pigs. He was leading the life he had always wanted – mother was busy organising the household, writing innumerable letters, making plans for the girls & instructing the dress maker. The girls frolicked* around & laughed & flirted with the young people of the neighbouring big houses.
Ruth loved to be with her mother * by her big desk in the bay window of the * in the sunshine – the bees* hummed* in the – hedge below the window. Mother used up many stamps which came in * books. As she finished each book it would be thrown into the WPB* & Ruth* would retrieve it, * the small books & hoping to find a stamp or two which had been overlooked.
In the summer evenings she would be in her mother’s bedroom as the sun set behind the * beech tree on the lawn “helping” her dress for dinner. Her favourite dress was of * * coloured satin with a lace fichu & Ruth would chose for her a diamond star to wear on her breast.
Sometimes the children would be allowed into the dining room for dessert. The long oak table was laid with china & glass & silver candlesticks. The walls were half panelled in oak & painted royal [blue] {47} Above & there were long * velvet curtains. * * & left drawn * * * *.
Ruth wearing a * dress of net & lace (which still survives* in 1990) with pale olive * sash & * necklace. Would sit on her father’s knee her head * * * aim that * * * spread on his shirt * He fed her with * * *. Griffith wearing corduroy shorts & a frilled* white shirt sat proudly up * on his mother’s right reaching out for everything in sight. The older girls thought all this ridiculous “You’re greedy Griff they said & look at Baby making big eyes”. The *ing was not altogether harmonious* - there were tensions & jealousies which sharpened the experience & brilliantly *ed these moments which were to remain as a lasting memory. Perhaps a melancholy a miasma* of what was to come hung as a veil above the room. It was soon time to go. Mother & father to sail for India where they would be stuck for the duration of the war, the carefree young men who would go to war & most of whom [would] be killed & the girls to be thrust quickly into the rigorous* * of VAD life * * unexpected * * of war.
The house would remain * set facing east & west, most of the rooms would be shrouded in dust sheets – mother’s * china ornaments would be put away in cupboards, the garden would gradually be over grown. {48}Only the farm remained * * depleted.
The young children with the heart touching acceptance of what is imposed upon them were left. Nanny Saunders was put in charge & was to make possible the paradise years. The parents never expected that the war would last so long or conditions become so extreme that the burden they had laid on nanny’s shoulders would eventually heavy to be bourn. The lamp boys went off to join up, the housemaids to the munitions factories, there was no cook in the kitchen, no men to carry the coals & light the lamps or chop the wood, no electricity or telephone & * was *.
Due to the farm & kitchen garden there was no shortage of food & because there was no one to supervise a * the children were left almost completely free to go where they willed, to make they own ploys*, became somewhat eccentric perhaps & resourceful* independent* completely absorbed with each other & cushioned from the darkest aspects of the war by nanny’s abiding love & * happy years in the garden of Eden.

Transcribed from a manuscript written by Ruth in the early 1990s

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The Lawford Family Connections with Lawford Hall

2009-01-12T09:23:00.000-08:00

Lawford Hall at Lawford in Essex

There are two Lawford Halls. One is at Long Lawford, near Rugby and the other at Lawford near Manningtree, Essex.

This is a photo from Geograph of the Hall at Little Lawford near Long Lawford, about which there is a fanciful story about ghosts to be found on an American website about Rugby. The relevant passage reads:

"Not far from England's Rugby lie the ruined remains of Lawford Hall, where a family ancestor who had lost an arm during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I was known as One-Handed Boughton. After he died, his ghost was said to have appeared from time to time, riding across the neighboring grounds in a coach-and-six (a coach drawn by six horses), scaring the villagers out of their wits.

A room in Lawford Hall which had been preserved as his bed-chamber was reputedly haunted. No-one could sleep in it, and none of the locals would work in it. The family finally decided to lay the ghost. The website describes the ceremony, which, it says, took place about 1754:

"Twelve clergymen were assembled, each bearing a lighted candle, all of which went out except that held by Mr.
Hall, erstwhile Rector of Harborough Magna. He immediately laid the ghost by conjuring it into a bottle, corking it
tight and throwing it into the pond [in a clay-pit opposite the Hall].

"Around 1810 an old glass bottle was discovered in a pond near the site of Lawford Hall. It passed into the
possession of Mr. Allesley Boughton Leigh of Brownsover Hall who was happy to allow it to be seen, but the
cork has never been drawn.

"Sir Francis Skipwith tells us that on a visit to Lawford Hall and enquiring into the possibility of fishing in the pool opposite he was politely deterred by Sir Edward Boughton on the grounds that he could not consent to disturbing the spirit of his ancestor... May God have mercy on us all."

[For a much longer and more dramatic version of this story, click this link to the New Zealand Otago Witness 1872. (With thanks to Damien Kimberley of the Coventry Transport Museum]

There is no evidence that any Lawfords actually lived at this Lawford Hall, though we don't know who actually built it.

The Hall at Lawford in Essex is more interesting for us as it actually had the family coat of arms over the door until about 1994. I saw them there on a visit, but on enquiring about them more recently, I was told that they had been moved inside as protection from the weather. This house, which was built sometime early in the C18th, was owned in 1866 by TW Nunn, according to plaque on the wall of Lawford Church, and was inherited or bought by the Nichols family some time in the late C19th - according to the present family's daughter, who lives in one wing. Indeed there are gravestones in the churchyard of both John Nichols (1859-1939) and Robert Nichols (1893-1944)- both of whom have interesting entries in Wikipedia. But the coat of arms - if my memory is correct - means that it was indeed originally owned or built by one of our line of Lawfords, and likely a member of the Drapers' Livery Company, as the same coat of arms appears on the ceiling of one of the main rooms at the Drapers' Hall.

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