Forties Doldrums
Forties Doldrums Beryl Grimani-Harrold Starting school in 1941 was very much different from the bustling place we now know. George Lane’s first-year entry seemed to me a vast area of the unknown. Two teachers I remember well were Mrs Barden and Miss Miers. They later introduced a beautiful white fluffy Bunny Rabbit to the range of toys with which we played. The white rabbit was a great favourite and much loved by all the small pupils. The Headmistress Mrs Butler is also remembered with affection as was the white rabbit. School dinners remain a distant memory but the interruptions of these meals by enemy air raids were, to small children, frightening, especially when together with our plates and cutlery we had to walk briskly from the dining hall to the shelters abutting the gardens of the houses in George Lane. Those shelters were from memory very large, very dark and with copious quantities of spiders and dust and had very low benches for seating. There were toilets, but primitive is the best description. Despite this, we survived but to us, the ‘war’ was a source of wonderment. Each mid-morning the pupils were served a small bottle of milk with a drinking straw. In my opinion, this was just awful. In the summer months, the milk smelled off and had a peculiar tang. Desperately I tried to dispose of mine and was admonished for putting the bottle back into the crate. These crates, made of galvanized metal, were used by the boys as toboggans in the snowy weather to slide down the slopes in Husseywell Park. To them, it was great fun, but no doubt dangerous in reality. Food and clothing rationing were great trials for our inventive parents. There was very little wasted and the products from allotments and cultivated gardens were fully utilised. I’ve mentioned before the Pig Club which was situated on the land now occupied by the flats opposite the New Inn and Hayes Station. This was organized and run on a business-like basis by a group of men from the locality. During the week my grandfather and his friend ‘Smithy’ looked after the animals, feeding, cleaning etc keeping the sties pristine. At weekends the other members did these chores. My father with much help from the members built the sties. The straw and food supplies were kept in one of the two barns adjacent, the second being the cookhouse in which the pig swill was prepared and cooked in an old-fashioned boiler which caused great agitation when the fire was difficult to light. Water was drawn pail by pail from the well which until recently made itself evident by the small stream dribbling across Station Hill. This was quite an exhausting chore for two elderly gents. However we, that is Sally, my friend and I, spent many happy hours helping! Clothing rationing was quite a thing. In those days the motto of the time was ‘make do and mend’ and, because of the many and serious shortages of supplies, everything that could be mended was. School uniforms were passed from sibling to sibling until they became ‘beyond a joke’. Dresses were shortened and lengthened as the need arose. Sheets when worn were repaired ‘sides to middles’! We did not seem to mind, because that’s the way things were. Shoes were repaired until it became impossible to continue and as for darning socks, well, we soon became skilled in the art. During the many raids in and around Biggin Hill, I well remember that together my mother and I watched from an upstairs window the air battles at night, with searchlights and shells overhead and around the airfield. These were sights to behold and will forever remain in my memory. Following all these trials and tribulations of those dreadful times the war finally ended and a neighbour suggested that he took two of his daughters and me up to town to see the fireworks displays for the VE celebrations. Somewhat reluctantly my father finally agreed that I should join this little band of revellers. We went as arranged to watch from the rooftop of Devonshire House. The displays were many and wonderful, and for three young girls very exciting. We left Devonshire House very late in the evening making towards Charing Cross. There were thousands and thousands of revellers, more folk than any of us had ever seen before, and yes, the inevitable happened. We three girls were separated from our adult carer, and there we were somewhere, supposedly in Oxford Street and not knowing where to go or what to do! What a conundrum! However, not many minutes after losing sight of said adult we were noticed by a family group on their way homeward. They fortunately took us through the milling crowds to safety. They said they would take us to a police station on their way home. We walked and walked, seemingly for miles. It certainly seemed forever, but as good as their word they deposited us at Tottenham Court Road Police Station. Dead tired we were placed in the care of a Lady Warder who supplied hot chocolate, biscuits, buns and blankets and we curled up for much-needed sleep. Meanwhile, a very concerned/distraught carer telephoned my parents to say ‘I’ve lost the girls’. My parents were able to direct him to the police station and reported that we were safe and suitably fed and watered. He was then sent hot foot to Tottenham Court Road where he too was fed and watered! A couple of hours later we were all bundled into a police vehicle and returned to Bourne Vale arriving around 6 am. In the turmoil of being lost all three of us were nonplussed and in the heat of the moment, Angela remembered only her name, Sally only her age, whilst all I could come up with was the all-important telephone number that in some small way saved the day. Since then telephone numbers have always been very important and a secure anchor. I remember with thanks the family who rescued us and their kindness and care of us three lost waifs. Without their help who knows what might have happened? One can only surmise. Beryl Grimani-Harrold, President HKVA
Hayes remembered in the 40’s
Hayes remembered in the 40’s Peter Harrold At the beginning of the war, I was 4 years old and unaware of the gravity of the situation. One of the highlights of that period started with Father building an Anderson Air Raid Shelter in the garden of 17, Hambro Avenue. This was a corrugated structure dug into the ground for four feet and covered with earth. Being below the surface it always seemed damp, but we felt safe. As soon as the air raid siren sounded, whether day or night, o昀琀en being woken up, we would all dive into the shelter, which was father when not on police duty, mother and three boys. This went on throughout the war. In 1944 when the Doodlebugs (flying bombs – V1’s) started, the family cat somehow knew as soon as the Doodlebugs passed over Dover as he was in the shelter way before the rest of us. We demolished the shelter after the war burying most of it in the ground as we found it impossible to completely dismantle it. Before a rocket ‘V2’ destroyed Grandfield Nurseries in West Common Road (now the Rosary Catholic Church) on 9 February 1945 and Hayes Stores opposite, I remember that outside the shop, there was a tin full of broken biscuits. You took a handful, put it in a bag, and paid a nominal sum. The other lasting memory of that period was life at Hayes Primary School and the dash to the shelters when the air raid siren sounded. The siren was situated on the junction of Hayes Street and George Lane adjacent to the lovely garden of the ‘Walnut Tree’ so could be heard over the whole of Hayes. On the same site was a police box to enable the policeman to keep in contact with the Bromley Headquarters. We continued our lessons in the shelter and, if necessary, had our lunch there. A dark and spooky time. By the winter of 1945, the school in George Lane became overcrowded, so Miss Barnes and Miss Keilly took the top two classes to Gadsden (now the Administration Office at Hayes School) which had been purchased by Bromley Council. The removal of books, pupils and equipment to Gadsden was undertaken during a par琀椀cularly snowy winter, and to make the transportation of innumerable books easier, the pupils were requested to bring their toboggans to school. These, duly loaded, processed across the playing field and Baston Road to Gadsden. There was a great shortage of vehicles and manpower at this time and this procession was the most efficient way of removal. In 1946 my twin brother and I moved to Brewood Preparatory School, a private school in a private house on Courtlands Avenue run by Mrs Wood assisted by Miss Skinner. Later we had to move to Miss Skinner’s house at 7 Sackville Avenue as Mrs Wood’s son came back from the war and needed his home back. Mrs Wood was a tough disciplinarian and any misdemeanour was treated with a slipper on the backside. Miscreants were taken into the kitchen to lean over a chair and then whacked. We in the classroom could hear the chair scrape across the floor as the slipper found its mark! Soon after the war, we were invited by Mr Milne of Kechill Gardens to join him and make camp on farmland (now the estate of Bourne Vale and Mounthurst Road) to set up his ham radio on higher ground, where we made contacts throughout the world. Many of you will remember his son Geoffrey. These were interesting times. During this period, we boys played cricket at the top of Station Hill and regularly got told off by local people for using a hard ball. We had to stop as the common rangers were onto us. Another problem we had was Sgt. Egan who lived in Bourne Vale. He was determined to stop us riding our bikes on the pavement (which was certainly not allowed in those far-off days), in the end having a word with our dad to stop this naughty behaviour. During the war, a bomb landed on the two houses opposite us on Hambro Avenue. They were unsafe and had to be pulled down. The gardens soon got out of hand with much undergrowth. So, before they were rebuilt, even though it was wired off, we went in there to catch bullies and generally play about as boys will. After peace was declared Mum bought us a fox terrier which my twin and I regularly took on the common, and on Sunday mornings, we regularly walked up to Keston ponds, with no fear of our parents for our safety or being accosted, as would be a concern today. In 1947 we had a very heavy snowfall, the second highest in my lifetime, 1963 being the heaviest. During this period, we had our sledges out and one of our favourite runs was Holland Way, but the nearer option was Husseywell Park when as well as sledges we found some metal milk crates which took us faster down the hill and across the frozen lake at the bottom (so much for health and safety). Another popular pastime was that on the way home from school we went to Hayes Farm cowsheds to watch the herd of Guernsey cows being milked, still in the traditional old-fashioned way. During the late forties, we supported Bromley Football Club at their home games, with the highlight being in April 1949 travelling to Wembley with my father and twin brother for the FA Amateur Cup Final (the first time it was held at that venue). We were accompanied by my father’s colleague Mr Greener and his son Christopher (later to become the tallest man in Britain as well as being an international basketball player). Bromley won by a single goal, repea琀椀ng their success for this trophy in 1910/11 and 1937/38 seasons. That 48/49 season they won the Athenian League title and the Kent Amateur Cup, great excitement for all the supporters. These were incredibly happy days despite the war and rationing of sweets (not finishing until 1953). We were limited to
Early Schooldays in Hayes, One hundred years ago
Early Schooldays in Hayes, One hundred years ago Jean Wilson In the 1980s I was fortunate to meet some of the pupils who had been at the Hayes Church School over a hundred years ago. Beatrice Russell and Grace Willis (née Knopp) started in 1908/9 and Bill Dance in 1918. In the classroom photograph of 1908, Beatrice is on the left in the second row and Grace’s older sister Ruth is on the left in the front row. The head was William Plant who had arrived as the teacher for the senior pupils – those over 7 years old – in 1874. He was a keen musician and the school had regular concerts. He was also the Church choirmaster and there were plenty of schoolboys (not girls) in the choir. All remembered the strict discipline at school but they also enjoyed their schooldays and still had the books they had received as prizes and the silver medal given for 100% attendance and good conduct. Beatrice Russell recalled the cookery lessons which started with a visit to buy the meat from Miss Sands, the butcher in Baston Road, who once it was weighed made them work out the cost. Grace Willis remembered the strange way in which Mr Plant did the spelling tests, standing back-to-back in a circle. Bill Dance remembered that for woodwork lessons the boys had to walk to Keston School once a week and were punished if they arrived late. Football and also netball was played on the old cricket ground on Hayes Common. The boys carried up the goalposts and the pitch was marked out with sawdust. Bill Dance also had some less pleasant experiences such as clambering over the old roof of the outside toilet to collect fallen walnuts and falling through into the bucket below. It resulted in a caning both from the head and from his mother! William Plant retired in 1920 and some parents felt that the new head Mrs Burman was ‘too modern’ but they were pleased that she continued to encourage a love of music. Winifred Timms, at school from 1917-1928 and her sister Dorothy from 1923-1929 recalled the many Nativity and other plays that were acted. Dorothy remembered being Molly Cottontail in a performance of Brer Rabbit. ‘I had a lovely rabbit costume with a super tail’. Her sister Winnie was one of the narrators. Winnie also recalled that as soon as they began school they had to start to knit vests. At first, she was slow and when she came home from school she had to sit and do so many rows before she was allowed her tea. However, at the age of eight, she knitted a jumper in pink with champagne colour around the neck and the edge of the sleeves. Another school started in Hayes in 1919, Hayes Court School, but it was not for the local children. It was an exclusive girls’ boarding school opened in the rambling old house by Miss Katherine Cox. In 1985 Roma Goyder collected and published the memories of pupils who had been at the school and I was delighted to speak with Elizabeth Belsey, who was a pupil from 1925 to 1930 and later returned as a teacher. Miss Katherine Cox was ahead of her time in her attitude towards education. She could be both autocratic and also allow the pupils considerable freedom. Described by one pupil as ‘tall, angular rather than graceful, she paddled along on low-heeled pumps dressed in loose, loudly checked clothes’. Nearly all the pupils disliked the school tunics – ‘a long-sleeved grey wool stockinette in winter, grey ‘sponge cloth’ in summer both garnished with green bobbles and fringes . . . We wore green-grey matching knickers under our tunics’. The traditional subjects were taught but there was an emphasis on English literature and also on science and mathematics. Pupils remembered lessons from her father, Professor Cox, a former Professor of Physics at McGill University who had published books on mechanics and ‘Beyond the Atom’. His lectures on astronomy ‘were well above our head’. Fanny Hopkins remembered that she was so inspired that until she was 17 ‘she read nothing except poetry and astronomy’. There were lessons from Mr Hamilton, ‘whose enthusiasm for Maths was so infectious that I actually caught a glimpse of what the subject was all about’. On the fringe of the Bloomsbury set Miss Cox was keen to ensure that art, music and drama were also well represented in the syllabus. Mr and Mrs Wheatley came once a week from the Slade School of Fine Art and his advice was to ‘draw, look and see where the lines go . . . put down what you see without fear or prejudice . . . never use a rubber’. Marion Richardson, a pioneer in art education for children, later took over and there were also talks from many famous artists including from the well-known mosaicist Boris Anrep, whose daughter was at the school. In 1926 Virginia Woolf came with her sister Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant and her advice ‘Don’t read a book because you think you ought to; only because you want to’, remained firmly in one schoolgirl’s memory. It seems to have been an inspirational place and many pupils went on to achieve great success in many different walks of life. Please send any of your memories to: contact@hayeskenthistory.co.uk. Jean Wilson
Hayes Shops in the 1920s/1930s
Hayes Shops in the 1920s/1930s author The 1920s and 1930s were pivotal in the growth of Hayes. ‘The village is changing and I don’t like it very much’, was the comment in a local newspaper as some of the mansions were bought and pulled down by developers eager to seize the opportunity to provide more homes for the many people who wanted a new life in the country. Hayes offered an ideal opportunity. The 1921 Hayes Census recorded 1,010 people in 222 houses. By 1931 the number of houses had more than doubled to 452 and the population had grown to 1678. Expansion continued and by 1939 the population had reached 6,500. The main General Store run by Edwin Tidbury and most of the existing shops in 1919, described in the Autumn HKVA Review, adapted and survived. However, the little shop opposite the school was pulled down when the road was widened in 1935 to cope with the increased traffic. Elinor Harrold in her ’Hayes Remembered’ recalled the shop with its front and back doors and the shopkeeper Mrs Russell who wore a sack round her shoulders, collected firewood and stacked it in her front garden, ‘tied up into ½d bundles to be sold for lighting the fires and lighting the [washing] copper on Monday morning’ .In the front of the shop she sold haberdashery and underwear and in the back tobacco, sweets and soft drinks. Christiana Harrod remembered the liquorice sticks and rolls with a purple or pink sweet in the centre and the sherbet dabs that were four for a farthing. She also recalled when her second cousin Amy Pearce decided to turn her sitting room at Glebe View, which adjoined the Post Office, into a place to sell cakes bread, sweets, cigarettes and later ice cream. A bay window was installed in 1931. Elinor Harrold wrote that the cakes were delivered every morning by Ackermans of Bromley.