R.M.Beaumont "In his own Words" - part 2

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MY CHILDHOOD IN NOTTINGHAM

Sometime in the late summer of 1909 my Mother, who was then pregnant, was advised by her Doctor that she should have several weeks of complete rest and lie down as much as possible. Otherwise she would risk losing her child. My father took her to the "Prince of Wales", at that time thought to be the best hotel in Scarborough. They had a room looking south over the splendid view of the bay towards Filey Brig. And he left her there to rest whilst he went home to work. My Mother lay upstairs, never tiring of the view, for the time she spent there.

Towards the end of the pregnancy she was fetched home to Nottingham by my Father. And 1 duly came onto the scene in the early hours of 7th December 1909, at their small house 13 Park Terrace.

Some time before he was married, my father, Richard Henry Beaumont, had taken a tenancy of this house, belonging to the Duke of Newcastle's Park Estate. My father had a housekeeper, a highly respectable and indeed redoubtable lady called Mrs. Barlow. Upon my arrival Mrs. Barlow took charge, giving me a warm welcome. And strange as it may seem, I am certain that I can remember being wheeled by her in a pram down the glass-covered porch entrance into the tiny patch of garden.

At that time my father was acting as a solicitor in a small practice in Nottingham in partnership with a Mr. Goodall. They had an office boy called Gregory Meakin, who occasionally had reason to visit 13 Park Terrace, and who was doubtless rewarded with some form of nourishment. In return, he was expected to perform some small duty or run some errand for Mrs. Barlow, who always called him "Meakins".

At some time of which I am uncertain, my father acted as Clerk to the Bingham Guardians, a body which developed into the Rural District Council. Also, because of the illness of his first cousin Glynn Beaumont, my father became the Clerk to the Grantham Spitalgate Magistrates. At first, this appointment was temporary pending his cousin's recovery from a mental breakdown. But unfortunately, Glynn did not recover, but died. So Sir John Thorold, who was then the Chairman of the Bench, asked my father to remain as clerk. I have an idea that the main reason for this was that Sir John discovered that my father was an exceptionally good shot, as indeed he was, and remained so for the rest of his life. And the Syston pheasants were a notable attraction for the local sportsmen.

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I think that at this time my father was also the Clerk of the Bingham Justices. He told me that he used to bicycle to Bingham (on the machine which I still have), and that riding up the hill from Radcliffe made him sweat.

(2017 Note about the bike, mentioned in several places: It is a Raleigh X-frame, and was made in Nottingham in 1907, we believe. After Richard's death my brother William had it, and after his death my son Sam has it, and it is kept in rideable condition)

About this time Masterman, the Nottingham County Court Judge, appointed my father his Registrar and High Bailiff. In those days this was the Judge's appointment, not the Lord Chancellor's as it became later. This made my father shed some of his other work. But as the Grantham Justices met on a Saturday he remained as their Clerk until, I believe, after the War.

Of course, I did not know all this until much later. What I did soon know was that we now lived at No. 4 The Ropewalk; and this was marvellous. I soon had a brother, Johnny, and we had a bedroom on the third floor, with a wonderful view towards country. This house also had a basement kitchen and a cellar in a rock cave. It had a front garden on two levels, and a door from the lower one onto a quiet path overlooking the Park.

I also became aware that, not far away, I had a Granny and Grandpa. A country lane through tall trees, ending in a toll gate, led to their house, which had a big garden. The grass was cut by a machine pulled by a horse (wearing boots), led by a man called Haley. And there was a big old woolly dog called Prince, friendly but smelly. You lay on the grass and played with the dog.

There were also Aunts and Uncles.

As my grandfather probably had great influence on my later life, I must introduce him. My mother's father Egbert Hacking - my other grandfather had died several years before I was born - was at this time Rector of Holme Pierrepont, a sinecure job in a tiny village which was "ruled" by the absent squire's agent (whose wife was, I think, the squire's sister). My grandfather had been placed there at the request of the Bishop, who was then re-organising the church of England in Nottinghamshire by creating a new archdeaconry. The Bishop needed an efficient, business-like administrator, which my grandfather was. He had proved this in Derbyshire, where he had been rector at Cromford, Eyam, and Chesterfield.

(2017 Note. The original footnote referred to Richard's unfinished paper “A Long Glance Back at the Diocese.” I have been trying to find out some more about Egbert Hacking, and now have too much information to put in a footnote such as this).

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Just before the War started in August 1914 mv Grandfather, then Archdeacon of Newark, acquired Hill House in Southwell, so as to be able to devote his full time to the duties which he had taken on. He had a Wolseley saloon car, of which Haley, the man who had done the mowing at Holme Pierrepont, was chauffeur. Haley joined the Sherwood Foresters and, sadly, was killed in what we used to call the Kaiser's War.

(2017 Note about Hill House. As noted in 1998, Hill House was prevously the property of the Becher family, but whether directly or indirectly, I do not know).

My mother was Edith Hacking. Her sisters were called Dorothy, Alice, Kathleen, and Winifred. Aunt Winnie, being the youngest, remained at home, and was thus the best known Aunt. The others married, and their respective husbands Cuthbert Tindall, Charley Stephenson, and Cecil Nicholas, became in time well-loved Uncles, and produced seven cousins. My mother's brothers Melville and Alfred served in the Sherwood Foresters and survived the War. They both married, producing five more cousins. The grandparents boasted of having thirteen grandchildren, all equally loved.

My younger brother John died - quite suddenly and unexpectedly - in July 1914. But he was replaced - if that is the right word - in February 1916 by Thomas, who was always known as Tom.

(2017 Note. In 2016 Caroline and I easily found my uncle John Beaumont's grave in the Church (Rock) Cemetery off the Mansfield Road. There are papers in the family archive about it).

A new character had come on the scene before the War, a young Norland-trained Nanny called Isobel Southwell, whose home was at Filey. She was a tower of strength to my mother over the terrible loss of Johnny, and took us to Sheringham after Johnny's death. Nurse Southwell became not just a friend but part of the family, and a frequent visitor for the rest of her long life. She died aged (I think) 92, a few hours after I had said, in my heart, goodbye to her in a London hospital in 1993.

Nurse Southwell usually took her charges along the Derby Road for their exercise, going from the Ropewalk to the top of Adams Hill, or further. We saw the tramlines being laid, in wooden blocks in the road, and watched the posts for the wires being erected. And I can still smell the boiling tar in my mind to this day. The tramlines at that time stopped just over the railway bridge at Lenton, beyond the entrance to Gregory Street. After that point, there were few houses, except the big ones up the hill, belonging to the Players, the Shipstones, and the Boots. And there was little traffic.

I suppose that, at first, the War made little impact on a small boy - though I remember seeing a Zeppelin. And at Filey - to which were were introduced in 1915 by Nurse Southwell - there were masses of

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soldiers. Probably most of them were convalescing. That year or the next I saw several warships in the Bay; and Primrose Valley and Hunmanby Gap were supposed to be possible places where small parties of enemy might be landed for spying.

Rationing of food soon became strict. In 1916, I think, my father took a tenancy from the Wollaton Estate, of a house in Bramcote Lane. Besides a large garden, this house had three fields, cowsheds, and stables. The grazing was let to a small farmer who milked the cows in one of the sheds; and we had a gardener called Willis, who had a cottage on the main road which he could reach across two of our fields. Lord Middleton's Agent lived in a large house on the other side of Bramcote Lane, near the road. My father's services were in demand to shoot pheasants and rabbits, of which there were many, in the Park. These were divided amongst needy people. On one occasion I was there when we trolled the Lake for pike - hitherto considered inedible. Several monsters were caught, and to ripen them they were laid out in our stable and covered in straw for several days. Then Mr. Pilkington (he was the Agent) and my father cut them into pieces, and bits were given by Mrs. Pilkington to those in need.

Bread was a problem. Like most people, we made our own. But flour was almost non-existent. At one time we were reduced to barley flour.

I remember being sent by my Mother to the village shop to buy a box of matches as we had none in the house. The shop had none either. Instead, the elderly lady who ran the shop was offering self-igniting sparklers - of which she let me have one box.

To help him in his shooting expeditions my father acquired a spaniel puppy, which he asked the Wollaton keeper to train for him. The keeper's name, appropriately, was Hedges. He lived in a cottage just outside the park wall at the corner nearest to the Derby Road. Hedges had a young son named Raymond, then aged three or four, who was very unwell and spent much time resting. Betty (our puppy, which was boarding with the keeper) adored Raymond, and they were inseparable whenever she was at the cottage. In due course Betty became an accomplished shooting dog, and came to live with us. Later, when Raymond went to school (the school was about 200 yards further up Bramcote Lane towards the village), if Betty was out walking with us, she would rush into the school, seek him out and smother him with wet kisses before returning to duty with us.

The Rector of Wollaton was a Mr. Russell, who when I knew him was already elderly. But he was a strong character, who inspired great respect from old and young. One morning when walking down

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Bramcote Lane he looked over the hedge and saw two small boys, myself and a friend, practising archery with newly-acquired bows and arrows. This he regarded as highly dangerous, and much to our terror, he walked through the gate into the field and then and there seized the offending weapons, saying he would take them to the Policeman - which he forthwith did. After some deliberation my friend - about whom I shall say more later - being much braver than me, said he would go and get the bows and arrows back. This he achieved, but only after the village policeman had given him a talking to.

At that time Mr. Russell's son was one of the best known policemen in the World. Known as Russell Pasha, he was Head of the Egyptian Police, and a terror to the Drug Dealers in the East. Once, when he came to see his father at Wollaton, he read one of the Lessons at Mattins. His clear diction and fine voice were memorable; and he had two children with whom we played.

In our field, by the road, we had a hand pump and a trough. This had been the source of water for the cottage which once stood close by, in which "Shaw the Life Guardsman" lived - who earned fame at the Battle of Waterloo. A little further along the road, in the hedge, was another handpump used by us and some of the village for water. The water was considered good to drink, and Willis the gardener used to carry two buckets on a yoke in the morning to our house. Our water from another pump was much harder. It was pumped by hand to the top of the house and used sparingly. There was also a supply of "Estate Water" which was so hard no-one wanted to use it.

The then Lord Middleton, who came to the Hall occasionally, was a fine-looking old man much dominated by his wife. It was said in the East Riding, where he was a member of the County Council, that Lady M. sat over him in the Gallery during County Council meetings and when there was a contested motion she was in the habit of indicating to his Lordship which way he should vote. We were usually invited to a "dish of tea" with her Ladyship when she was at Wollaton, and we had the freedom of the Park.

Digby, Lord Middleton, died while we were at Wollaton, and was succeeded by an elderly relative who unfortunately also died soon after. The heavy liability to Estate Duty made it necessary that the Wollaton Estate be sold. The Pilkingtons left, and were succeeded by Mr. Bell, from Thirsk, who organised the splitting up of the property for purposes of sale. Tenants were given the opportunity of buying their properties, and most of the farmers were glad to do this, obtaining their farms at give away prices. Those whose land was near the town, which could then be developed without much restriction, became very rich.

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My father could have bought our house and land for twenty years purchase, and as the rent was, I believe, moderate, it would have been a windfall. But he regarded the whole business as scandalous, and would have nothing to do with it. So he gave notice, and we moved to Southwell.

SCHOOLDAYS (1916 -1927)

Soon after the War started Nurse Southwell left us and completed her training, to become a qualified Nurse at Guy's Hospital, after which she became one of the Army Nurses and we heard and saw little of her. She was succeded by Miss Marriott, who became our Nursery Governess, and who with my Mother, taught me some elementary things. When I was seven 1 was sent to a small boarding school at Riber Castle, which stood at the top of the steep hill to the south of Matlock. There were several other boys whom we knew at the school, and we went there by train from Nottingham. It was an alarming experience for a timid boy, and I must admit that I was pretty terrified and miserable for the first term. But I do not think it did me any harm. The boys whom I knew included Pete Gauld, whose father was a Nottingham doctor and had been Captain of Nottinghamshire County Cricket, Brian Bradley, the friend whom I mentioned earlier in connection with the "bows and arrows incident", Christopher Paul, another doctor's son, and, I think, a Windley.

The Headmaster, who owned the School, was The Reverend J.W. Chippett, who had been a Master at Giggleswick, and who was well known to my Grandfather. One, if not both, of my Hacking uncles had been at Riber. Mr Chippett was a marvellous teacher of boys because he had the knack of making things interesting to them. The Matron, Mrs Summerson (Ma Summy) was a war widow, and her son John was the second senior boy. He was a gifted pianist and one of the nicest people I have ever known. The Head Boy, Luce, was not very effective in controlling misbehaviour or bullying. There were less than twenty boarders, and one or two day boys came up from Matlock. All the boys are named on the photograph, which I still have.

There were really only two classes. The younger boys were in a form room on the ground floor under the charge of a Mistress. Close to it was a large Conservatory in which was a good Black Hamburgh vine which produced a good crop of grapes. Nearby was a small bathroom with

(2017 Note about Hacking uncles at Riber. As noted in 1998, one of the uncles sent Richard postcards there, for example “There is enough stone in this pyramid to build a wall four feet high right around France. Remember me to Mr. Chippett.” That was uncle Melville Hacking (registered name Egbert Melville), and perhaps that name came into the family – it is also my own middle name – from the Victorian Rector of Matlock, William Rylance Melville who, I suspect, was some sort of mentor to Egbert Hacking. But that case is not proven and I am open to suggestions about it).

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one bath in it, in which we took turns to wash. One day I witnessed an extraordinary incident which I still cannot understand. Brian Bradley was in the bath and 1 stood by, being next in the queue. Ma Summy appeared, brandishing the steel poker which we used in the fireplace in our form room which had an open fire-grate and coal fire - badly needed in winter, being the only kind of heating. The poker had been badly bent and had clearly been left in the bottom of the fire until red- hot and then bent in the fire bars of the grate. "Who did this?" asked Ma Summy, very crossly. We did not know, and had never seen the poker like that before. Brian held out his hand for it. Ma Summy handed it to him, no doubt thinking that he just wanted to look at it. Brian held it between his two hands, which he moved about on it, and straightened it with apparent ease, grinning at Ma Summy as he did so. She was completely stunned, and turned pale with shock, because it was a physical impossibility for this to have been done, even by a strong man, with his hands alone. But Brian could only have been about ten. Ma Sammy left without a word. Nor did we talk about it either, and I do not think Brian understood what he had done.

Brian and I remained friends on and off, and I visited him at his parents' house in Pelham Crescent, Nottingham. Much later in life we were both in the 8th Battalion of the Sherwood Foresters. But alas! Brian tried to knock out a German Tank with an anti tank rifle fired from the shoulder, and was killed. That was in Norway.

It was at Riber that I learned to love Derbyshire, as we boys walked, or ran, miles with Mr. Chippett. I developed strong legs and a wiry strength that has not yet quite left me. I also learned to swim, in an elementary fashion, in the old and really quite dangerous swimming baths at Matlock Bath, to which we ran down and up the footpath once a week. My mother had learned to swim there as well.

Riber was tough. At first I hated it, and dreaded going back to school. But when I left, I remember carrying my little bag down the steep path to catch the train at Matlock station, and being in tears.

I suppose that the reason I was taken away from Riber was because my father thought it too small a school, and also that it lacked a certain amount of refinement. He was put on to Hill Side, at Godaiming in Surrey, by our friends the Curshams - who mainly lived at Holme Pierrepont, but another brother lived at Thrumpton and one son was at Hill Side. I had never met them. My father took my mother and me by train to Trent Junction, from whence we walked to the ferry and crossed the Trent to Thrumpton. I have a faint remembrance of a cricket match at the Hall, where I met Lord Byron, who was a clergyman. Also

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of course, the boy - who was the youngest son of the family, but a fairly senior boy at Hill Side.

It took me some time to adjust to the new school. It was in many ways superior to Riber, but not in its standards of Education! The Headmaster was J. Douglas, a good cricketer, who had played for Surrey and was a cousin of "J.W.H.T. (Johnny Won't Hit Today) Douglas, then captain of Essex. The school was well-equipped for cricket, and also had a nearby field, called "Marking Horn" which had recently been released from wartime food production, and where soccer could be played.

The School house itself was an extraordinary geographical puzzle. There was an ordinary house (probably Victorian) with a drive entrance from a quiet road going up hill from Farncombe. Several additions had been made to it further up the hill, with one or two classrooms, of a temporary nature, in different directions. There were several staircases. The house had belonged to Charterhouse, and been known as "Doddites". Two other Charterhouse houses were across our cricket field. These were "Robinites" and "Irvinites", and they had to be protected, by high wire fences, from cricket balls hit for six! Even so, a really good six would sometimes go over the fences and cause wrath to the respective House Masters.

We were, however, accepted by Charterhouse, and many of our boys followed by going there. We occasionally went to watch their matches, and some of their junior teams came to play our First XI at cricket. We also had an annual cricket match with a girls' school called Priorsfield, and since the girls were regarded by us with scorn it was considered very humiliating if our four elevens did not all win. We always played matches against Sandroyd and the other nearby boys schools.

Besides cricket and soccer, I seem to remember some attempts at tennis, and there was a good carpentry shop run by a patient and kindly carpenter called Inwood. The senior master, whom I liked immensely, was a Mr. Taylor, a good naturalist and most knowledgeable on butterflies and moths - the breeding of which (in jam jars) was not discouraged.

Mr Douglas was not married when I first went to Hill Side. His war-widowed sister Mrs Crabtree acted as his housekeeper. But eventually he did marry, to a Miss Jukes, the sister of a former pupil at the school. She was much liked by us and always ready to play draughts, chess, or other games with us, or to swap stamps.

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There were perhaps twenty garden plots marked out, backing onto a wall. These were shared out among those of us who were interested. I had one which had been much neglected by its former proprietor, but needless to say, after about a year it was one of the best. There was also a climbing rose, perhaps "Caroline Testout" against the wall. This rose had been shamefully treated, but later rewarded me for my loving care.

The neighbouring plot on one side was owned by twin brothers Colin and Keith Hammond. A delightful pair, they were, to most people, indistinguishable, and they traded on this! I think Keith was the elder by a few minutes. I got to know the difference quite soon. Other boys whom I remember were Wingate (a cousin of the man who was well known in the War in Burma, and very like him to look at), two Tuckeys, a Wenger, and last of all Tommy Foster. Tommy was the son of a well known London solicitor, whose firm worked for Queen Anne's Bounty - later the Church Commissioners. His mother was a Miss Gregory, whose family had been friends with the Hackings when they lived at Eyam. One summer we holidayed with the Fosters at Aldeburgh. I kept up with Tommy for a bit, but he went out of my life by going to some island in the South Seas - perhaps Fiji - and not returning.

(Note about Wingate. The 1998 footnote was “Major General O.C. Wingate.”)

I suppose that at Hill Side I must have passed the Common Entrance without difficulty, as I cannot remember anything about it. Indeed, learning what was absolutely necessary never presented any problems to me either at Prep School or Public School. But I never worked very hard, and in fact was pretty idle. In present times I do not think I should have got away with this slack attitude as I should have been "stretched" more and might have done better later on if my natural idleness had been overcome.

Looking back I cannot say that I enjoyed Hill Side much; but it was pretty harmless. I did go back once when I was a few years older. Also, after the last war I went to try and find out what had happened to the place. I walked up the hill from Farncombe but could not even find the place. All the fields had gone, and there was nothing but suburbia everywhere. Very depressing!

In the autumn of 1920 I went to Repton. I was in New House, where the Housemaster was Morgan Owen, who my Uncle Melville had known. I cannot remember why they had known one another, but it may have been to do with soccer. Morgan Owen (known as Mog) was well known for soccer. I think he was a Corinthian. He was not interested in any boy who was not good at sport - so I was of no interest to him. He was a

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bachelor at the time, but in due course he married a lady whose name I have forgotten, and who (as far as I can recall) took no interest in either the House or the School (but I may be belittling her, since I never came into contact with her at all).

I never cared much for my Housemaster though he was never unpleasant to me as far as can remember. I did however suffer much from Captain (as he then was) Strickland, who failed to teach me Maths - or anything else. I learned a bit more from Wall, a peculiar character who used to freewheel down the hill from his house on a very smart Sunbeam bicycle with a small white terrier dog in the basket. Wall would get really enraged if he was held up on the school paths and forced to pedal before he reached his classroom. The dog, which was called Pierre, was always addressed in French, and during lessons, reposed in a grandfather clock which stood in the corner of the classroom. I should like to have known Wall, in my later life.

To G.R. Smith, the History Master, I owe a tremendous debt. He used to walk about the classroom slowly, talking to us from memory about the particular section of the text book which we were meant to be learning. He would tell the story and make it live, so he got me entranced in history. He also let it be known to certain boys that they would be welcome to appear on Sunday afternoons at his small house on "the Pastures", where he would play music from his collection of classical records on an H.M.V. studio gramophone. He would play a lot of Brahms and Beethoven and (a special favourite) Bach, and I also learnt a little about Elgar, and (then very modern style) "The Planets". G.R. Smith had an elderly cousin who acted as housekeeper, and she would put her head round the door, count the bodies lying on the floor or squashed in the sofa and chairs, and would presently appear with tea, and buns or biscuits if we were lucky.

After I left Repton GRS was appointed Headmaster of Sedbergh and I was told he was not a great success there since discipline slipped under his light rule.

Other Masters whom I liked and respected, because they tried to teach me even when I was in the San or away ill, were Davidson, and L.B. Blaxland.

All of us were in the OTC, of course. I hated the drill, but learned something of rifle shooting and enjoyed Field Days out in Leicestershire. Perhaps I got "Cert. A". The Sergeants (ex Foresters) were Silcock and Moughton. He [Moughton?] eventually became School Marshall, succeeding Burton. He never forgot anyone, and immediately greeted old boys by name when they turned up, and shook their hands.

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The man in charge of the Gym was Captain Hedley. He was a terror to me, since I was no boxer. I discovered by accident that the other ex Forester officers did not care for him, and I inferred that they thought he was not entitled to call himself Captain. But he was certainly a superb gymnast, and he tried hard to strengthen weaker boys like me.

"The Boss", The Reverend (then) G.F. Fisher was greatly respected by the whole school and adored by those who knew him well in the Hall or in the Upper VI. He was recognised as a brilliant classical scholar, and only two people at Repton could measure up to him. One of those was Vassall, who had an international reputation, and the other (Fisher’s top pupil who of course followed him as archbishop) was Michael Ramsay. I remember Ramsay well as when he walked about he always seemed to have his head in the clouds.

ASTHMA

It was when I was at Repton that my acute hay fever started to develop into asthma each summer. I had suffered from hay fever at Wollaton, but the asthma was new. The Repton Doctor did not know how to treat it, but simply sent me to the "San." I was sympathetically received by the Matron, Miss Morris. She kept me in bed, but as far as I can remember not much else was done and I had to spend most nights sitting up, which did me no good at all.

At some point, the School recommended to my parents that I should go somewhere where there was less pollen. And my father arranged for me to go and stay with his eldest sister, my Aunt Georgine, who lived at Hunter's Quay, on the banks of the Clyde.

The first time, I went on my own. Quite an adventure of a journey for a boy of twelve. A night express from Nottingham on the Midland LMS to Glasgow St.Enoch. I then had to find my way to Greenock or Gourock. The trains from St. Enoch normally went on the old G. and S.W. Railway to Greenock "Princes Pier" station. I suppose I must have had some breakfast somewhere, but all I can remember is the difficult Glasgow accent. I was very worried on the journey and thought I must have got on the wrong train, as it seemed to take a long time and the train was travelling inland, when I was expecting to be following the river Clyde. But eventually we got to Princes Pier - the only time I ever went there. I walked down a covered passageway and boarded a paddle steamer, which took me to Hunter's Quay.

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I was met by my Aunt - or by my cousin, Norah. One had to pay twopence to walk off the pier, I remember. My Aunt's house, "Argyll Lodge", was less than five minutes walk along the shore road; this house, with its enclosed front porch, had a wonderful view looking south across the broad estuary towards Wemyss Bay, with Greenock and Gourock to the left. Aunt Georgine knew that I would be very tired since I had sat up all night, so soon after some lunch she sent me to bed. I can remember that I did not wake up till it was almost mid morning the next day.

My Aunt was a wonderful character. Her husband, Archie Campbell, was older than she. He had been the Doctor in Radcliffe-on-Trent, from where he had retired a few years earlier. He was a relaxing companion who was kindness itself, full of Scottish lore and proud of his Campbell ancestry (he was not too distantly related to the Duke). Uncle Archie had a very elderly sister, Aunt Amie, who lived about a half hour's walk away, towards Dunoon but on a higher level, so that her house had a good view of the Clyde. Here, in her Drawing Room, she was wont to sit, looking just like Queen Victoria, with her shawl over her shoulders and her white hair covered in a lace cap. Amie had a companion, a lady of a similar age, and a devoted servant who had been with them for years. It was not long before I was presented, and my Aunt and Norah and I went over to tea. Uncle Archie did not go - he would not have been able to walk so far, as he was a big heavy man and his legs were bad (also, he and his sister did not get on particularly well).

A few doors beyond Aunt Amie's house, in a house called "Benrhuthan", lived some Scottish friends called Smith. Mr. Smith had a Ships Chandlers business in Glasgow, and travelled there daily from Kim, his nearest pier. But he did not go at the weekends, and in the winter months they lived in Glasgow. The Smiths had a boy called Harry, who was then still at school at Moffat, and three girls Sheilah, Oonagh, and Marjorie, the last of who was still quite small. Because the Scottish schools broke up in June for the summer, these children were normally at home by the time my asthma drove me to the fresh sea air (as it did for the next couple of years). So I got to know the Smith children and some of their friends quite well. This was partly due to sailing.

The Smiths had a yacht called "Yvette", which was kept moored on the shore nearby. But I might not have been introduced to Yvette on my first visit. What I do remember is a trip down the Clyde on one of the paddle steamers, passing through the Kyles of Bute. I thought how lovely it was. I think that we all went - the Campbells and the Smiths and me. I see the Smith girls sitting on the deck laughing and having

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fun together. Mr. Smith pointed everything out to me as we went. He knew all the skippers, and took Harry and me down to see the engines. His favourite of all the boats was the ancient McBrayne Paddle Steamer "Columba", which had a beautifully shaped prow (not the later "St.Columba" - which was an ugly brute). The "Iona" was similar, though smaller.

I went once with Norah by train to Glasgow and we joined the "Columba" at the Broomilaw to sail all the way down the Clyde. We passed the huge shipbuilding yards - then still busy - including Beardmores at Dalmuir. Then we came to Greenock and Dunoon, and on to Rothesay, through the narrow Kyles of Bute and up Loch Long to Inverary. Here we stretched our legs and gazed at the castle before sailing back to Dunoon - where we left the ship to return to Glasgow.

Besides the Railway boats - from Queen Street to Craigandorran, Caledonian from Central Station, and G.& S.W.R. from St.Enoch - there was also a less frequent service by propellor driven Turbine steamers belonging to a company called Williamson Buchanan, which hailed, 1 think, from Gourock. All these were fascinating and exciting to observe from Argyll Lodge, with better moments still when Liners or Tramps passed by.

Later came the Clyde Fortnight of sailing races. One year I saw King George V's "Britannia", Sir Thomas Lipton's "Shamrock", Tommy Sopwith's "Veleta", as well as "Lulworth", "White Heather" and others. These were huge yachts, unlike any to be seen today.

But smaller boats predominated. The club house was five minutes walk away, towards Holy Loch. Uncle Archie took me there once.

The Smiths may have raced "Yvette"; but they had friends from Glasgow called Bergius who had a large yacht that needed more crew. The two elder girls sailed with them. The Smiths also had friends from Dundee called Thom, with a son Tommy who was a frequent visitor for the sailing, picnics, or paddle-boat cruises. I think both the girls were in love with him, and he later married Sheilah. Oonagh never married. Perhaps that was the reason!

One summer my father motored the family up to Scotland. We stayed the weekend at Kilwinning with the Ballantines, who had a lovely house and garden. My father had known Mrs Ballantine for many years, as she and her sister, Lady Beardmore, were members of the Tullis family. Another sister had married a Harrison from Nottinghamshire. Mrs Ballantine was a wonderful gardener. They had

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two sons David and Alastair and a daughter whom I met later called Monica.

David was a fellow asthmatic, but far worse than me. He had stayed with us in Southwell, and his uncle William had given him an Arrol-Johnston car - specially fitted for him to take out to South Africa, where it was thought that the dry air would be good for his health. But he had difficulty finding out what modifications were needed to British cars to make them suitable for rough country.

Alastair was big and strong. I believe he played Rugger for Scotland.

After leaving Kilwinning we motored on up the coast to some place near Gourock where my father garaged the car. We then crossed over to Hunter's Quay by ferry to stay at Argyll Lodge. During the visit Mr Smith took us all on a beautiful drive up Loch Eck and into the hills to picnic.

Harry Smith - who was often away furthering his studies - was a rather difficult character, but I got to know him as he and I went on long walks together into the hills. He did not get on very well with his father, which was a pity, because it was hoped that he would join his father in the business in Glasgow, and I would think that that would have been difficult for them both.

Little Marjorie Smith would later - when she was about ten - bicycle up Glen Masson with me - hoping to help land any fish that I might catch. A rare event.

Later on the Smiths moved to a newer and bigger house called "Benelli" which was nearer to Argyll Lodge. My visits to the Clyde continued over a long period of time - almost up to Hitler's War.

SOUTHWELL

Meanwhile we had moved to Southwell back in 1921 or 1922. My father bought the house known simply as The Burgage from a Mr. Bailey, who had been there many years and had been, I believe, the Managing Director of Cammel Lairds. This was a Company which had been involved in making armaments for the Government during the War, and afterwards there was of course very little for them to do.

(2017:- New Note about the move to Southwell. In fact my grandfather's Account Book shows that he sent the deposit for The Burgage, and then the completion money (total £2,400), to solicitors (Parr & Butlin) in May and June 1924 and also paid £50 to Mr Bailey for certain fixtures and fittings).

The house had a good garden, but the hedges and shrubs were not very well kept. My father worked on them himself, with major surgery being

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done by Merryweathers. At first, we had a gardener called Tam, who must have failed to make his mark with my father. He was succeded by Joseph Selby, who after driving lorries in France, had been acting as chauffeur to Colonel Higgs. Selby was a born gardener, and he and my father 'clicked'. A countryman by nature, Selby loved shooting and liked nothing better than to go on shoots with my father whenever and wherever possible. He also loved our succession of dogs, which were mostly spaniel bitches, one of which became renowned in the Oxton shoot. My father and Mr Stanley Bourne had the tenancy of the Oxton shoot for many years, jointly. Before that my father had had a share in the Stapleford syndicate, which was managed by Capt. Aldred of Beesthorpe, who had several superb large dogs which he had trained himself.

We also rented some rough shooting at Normanton, the mainstay of which was Mr Other [?], who farmed the land now owned by Taylor's Nurseries, and to the west of it. I myself learned to shoot there, and also at Gonalston. The Gonalston estate was then in the hands of Mr Edward Francklin - who taught me to fish in the Doverbeck, sometimes using his own homemade flies, one of which (a terrifying looking object) I still have. But his shoots were somewhat rough. He would send my father and Bess, our spaniel, miles round distant hedges after the odd pheasant, and "Thistly Coppice" was at that time, and may still be, a densely wooded area very difficult to beat, being impassible with undergrowth and choked with brambles and other obstacles. But boys, dogs, and any unfortunate beaters were shown no mercy and were urged to "get in there and beat it out properly."

(2017 revised Note: I no longer have any of the old flies or Hardy's of Alnwick fishing equipment. As noted before, I do remember Mr Edward Francklin, aged about 90 when I was a child, coming from Gonalston to Southwell to visit, driving a Morris 1000 convertible. I was specially introduced to him because we had the same christian name.)

The Francklins were an unusual family. There were four brothers, each with quite different gifts. Edward became Chairman of the County Highways Committee, and was invited before the war to visit Germany to see Hitler's new autobahns. He was rather nervous about this, as he told me when I happened to visit Gonalston before his departure. I asked him why? He said he had never been abroad before, and (I could hardly believe this) he had never even seen the sea!

Edward Francklin's elder brother Jack was thought to be simple minded and incapable of looking after his own affairs! We were fond of Jack, who when we lived at Wollaton used to turn up sometimes late on a summer afternoon, having walked from Gonalston. Though it was too late for him to get back, he would not stay the night with us in the house, preferring to go and sleep under the hedge in one of our fields. In the morning he would come in for breakfast and tell us about all the

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animals he had seen or heard in the night. Then he would set out and walk home, according to his own time and sense of direction.

Apart from family, people who loomed large were Dr Frank Jacob and Mr W. A. James. Dr Jacob and his elder brother and two sisters were the children of a country parson who had nothing but his small stipend, but all of them by scholarships and other means were extremely well educated. Apart from studying medicine, the doctor had been to University and done a degree and had won prizes for other specialities. His knowledge of botany was unique in my experience. He seemed also to know everything about birds and beasts as well as astronomy, and he was never tired of answering (in detail) tricky questions fired at him by small boys of an enquiring nature. At one time he became one of the country's leading heart specialists. He travelled what seemed to me enormous distances in his beautiful two seater Daimler, which had brass headlamps. Later he had a Vauxhall, of the Prince Henry type. The Nottingham General Hospital, which disappeared in the 1990s, named a ward after him.

(1998 Note:- As recently as September 1997 Richard was corresponding with Dr Jacob's nephew, another Frank, in Western Australia).

William Ashton James entered into my life when I was a boy living in Southwell. He moved to the town in about 1922 and had bought the old Prebendal House, South Muskham Prebend. This house, in Church Street, is now an Old People's Home, and has been somewhat enlarged at the back, whilst losing most of its garden. W.A. James came to Southwell because he was a friend of Edward Francklin - they had worked together as Clerks in Childs Bank in London. He was Judith Francklin's godfather, and used to go to tea at Gonalston every Friday, getting there at first by bicycle and later, in Basilico's [?] car. When he got to know us, which was through the Francklins, he started coming to tea with us every Sunday, directly after Evensong. He attended Evensong most weekdays as well, always occupying the same stall, which was kept for him.

W.A. James was the son of a Rector of Burwarton, Shropshire, and had an unmarried sister who lived at Malvern Link. She occasionally came to see him. He also had a brother called Ruston at Woodbridge, Suffolk, who was married with a daughter. But otherwise he had no family nor close friends. He had been at school at Rugby, where he had learnt some Latin, and he knew his church history.

At that time the Minster lacked a librarian, and there had been no-one to care for the books and manuscripts since The Revd. Smith who died back in 1910. So Archdeacon Conybeare appointed W.A. James Honorary Librarian.

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He was eminently fitted for this badly needed position. For the rest of his life, apart from working in his garden with his gardener, he spent most of his time in the Library, becoming the acknowledged expert on Southwell's history. At first, he was helped by Professor (later Sir) Frank Stenton, who of course was a native of Southwell who had been educated at the Grammar School. Stenton taught James to read medieval script and gave him the backround to Southwell lore. Mr James also looked the part - he had a white beard and wore a skull cap even indoors if there was the slightest draught. He had some good china and clocks in his house, and also a useful library of books, kept in tall bookcases which lined his study. I bought two of his books when he died. I soon got to know him, and learned something about the Minster's manuscripts, which with the assistance of Stenton, he started transcribing. After a while, some useful booklets about the Minster were published, and he also produced a larger hardback book called "Southwell Schools".

TRAVELS AND HOLIDAYS

Shortly after I left Repton, my grandfather arranged for me to accompany my Aunt Winnie on an Orient Line cruise to Norway. We joined a special Orient Line Express, made up of new G.C.R. carriages and pulled by a new 4-6-0 called Valour, at Nottingham Victoria Station, and we went via Worksop to Immingham Dock where we boarded the "Otranto", 20,000 tons. From this trip I particularly remember two incidents. I slipped crossing a small stream and either broke, or badly sprained, my wrist. And the ascent of the hill above Bergen on the Tram!

(1998 Note: A diary shows that the trip began on Saturday 13th July 1929, the day after Richard got home from a visit to Hunter’s Quay).

I made a more adventurous trip in 1930 by the Orient liner "Orontes" to Egypt with my Grandfather, to visit my Uncle Melville, who with his wife Rene lived at Maadi just south of Cairo. Uncle Melville, who was also my godfather, had been badly wounded in the War, and after some time in hospital he had finished his military service with Allenby's forces in or around Egypt. He found that the climate there suited him compared to English winters, and so he had got a job as a schoolmaster in the Royal Waifs [?], a charitable establishment for educating young boys. Uncle Melville got to know King Fuad, whom he greatly liked,

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and eventually obtained the entree to his palace, where he taught the king's son Faroukh.

Uncle Melville coached me at tennis. He was very good. But Auntie Rene had been a gym mistress; she was even better. So when they came to Hill House in the summer holidays much fun was enjoyed.

Whilst I was in Egypt I was taken into the western desert beyond the Pyramids to visit three Coptic monasteries. I went with a Mr Fraser in his little Jowett car, which was excellent on the loose sand. Two Frenchmen came with us. They were in a Renault, which got stuck, and we had to dig it out. My account of this journey was published in "The Reptonian" - my first attempt at journalism.

My Uncle Alfred was quite a different character. He finished the War as a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Foresters, and afterwards got the job of Secretary to the Motor Traders Association. This brought him into touch with the heads of the Motor Industry - men like Rootes, Morris, and (in racing) Sir Malcolm Campbell, whom I met once at a dinner in London. Uncle Alfred lived in a tall narrow house in Cathcart Street, South Kensington, and he and Aunt Maudie had two children Joan, always my favourite, and Alan. Cathcart Street was a useful place to stay when we visited London and an occasional refuge later on, when I was working there.

The other Hacking cousins, who used to turn up sometimes either at Hill House or the Burgage, were (in approximate age order) Pamela Tindall with her younger sisters Shirley and Erica, and Mary Stephenson and her brother Peter (the children of my Aunt Alice, who had died), and Barry and Jeremy Nicholas (the children of my aunt Kathleen). The Tindalls and the Nicholases lived in Kent and Sussex. Apart from these, there were the sons of Uncle Melville Hacking, whom I have only missed out so far because they lived in Egypt. They were David, Nigel, and Christopher Guy. All were quite different. I knew David best, and he was a real friend.

This whole tribe was cherished by the grandparents. Every Christmas my Grandfather always knew what present would most suit each child.

While I was at school my father would always plan a visit to the seaside for us boys in the summer. It was usually Filey, where 'home' to us was Mrs Jenkinson's cottage in Queen Street, in the old town. How she got us all in I do not know, though there was a shed in the garden which had two rooms. The Jenkinsons were connections of Nurse Southwell's family. One of them, Janey, became our servant for a while, and we boys loved her when we were young. There were two other girls and

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also Charley, who was the coxswain of the Spurn Lifeboat, and also Matt, who was a little older than me and a life-long friend. I think that Mr Jenkinson, who had been a fisherman, had been drowned at sea.

Other places that we visited on holiday, more reluctantly, were Hunstanton once, Sandsend (north of Whitby) twice, and Flamborough in 1928.

Flamborough was quite a dramatic visit. We had arranged to stay in one of the fishermen's houses in the centre of the village. My father had driven us there in the Arrol-Johnston, and was going to return next morning. Just as he was starting to climb the rather narrow staircase with luggage, a lady was coming down. He waited at the bottom, where they recognised one another at once, and addressed one another by their Christian names! The lady was Mrs Acland, and she knew my father because she was the daughter of Sir John Thorold. She had three children with her - Anne, Simon and Roger. We found ourselves sharing the sitting-room and dining-room with them, but we had a lot of fun as we all got on well together and were able to combine for games.

If the weather was fine, which it mostly was that year, we would walk down a track and path through a gully to Thornwick Bay to bathe, picnic, and to play on such sand as there was. On the way back up there was usually a man selling Vimto, which was much in demand if anyone had any money. Sometimes the man had ices. One day the Mums decided that we should have a shopping trip to Scarborough. This entailed a half hour's walk down to the little station (now long since closed), which was on the line linking Bridlington and Filey with Scarborough. I think that us young spent most of that day on Scarborough sands, rather than in the shops. On the long return walk back up from Flamborough Station Anne and I walked together happily talking about many things, leaving the others trailing behind, and I think that for the first time in my life I fell in love. At any rate Anne and I continued to correspond after we got home, and we have remained friends ever since.

(1998 Note: Anne Acland – Mrs Gordon (see below)).

Simon (who was at that time at school at Stowe) did not survive the war, and Roger has died since, though his children live in Devon. Mrs Acland's husband Captain Peter Dyke Acland was not at Flamborough as far as I can remember. He worked for Westland Aircraft at Yeovil, and I only met him later.

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FAMILY AND VISITORS

Up until now I have not mentioned my Beaumont relations. My uncle Rupert was next in line after my father, and he had three children George, Emma, and Everilde. When I first knew them, they lived at Honington, but they later moved to East Bridgford. Uncle Rupert had trained as a brewer at Burton-upon-Trent, but now worked for Warwicks and Richardsons at Newark, where he was the Company Secretary. His wife, my Aunt Gladys, was a member of the Warwick family. Uncle Rupert had been a notable oarsman and was a powerful man, as his son George later became.

Although Uncle Rupert and my father were quite different from one another they were great friends, and so there was much coming and going between the two families. His daughter Emmie was most distinguished-looking and very like Susannah in the portrait which I have. George, being several years older than me and physically stronger, was protective towards me when we were boys. I can remember him taking great care of me when we were both staying somewhere in East Anglia (I suppose with the Heycocks) and visited a gypsy fair. I think I repaid his kindness later in his life. Everything went wrong for George during and after the Second World War.

(1998 note on portrait, slightly revised: Susannah Beaumont (d.1804), wife of Rev. John Walter, Rector of Bingham. The portrait now belongs to my sister)

(1998 note, slightly revised: Richard's Beaumont grandmother Emma (d.1907) was a Heycock)

I had another uncle, Charles, who was the eldest of the Beaumont brothers. He had by now died, having made a disastrous marriage with one of his parents' servants. Yet another was my Uncle Walter, a schoolmaster, who was quite unlike the rest of the family. He and his wife, Aunt Edith, had one daughter called Rachel but I never really got to know her and 1 think she died when in her teens. But when I was working in London I went to stay with them once or twice, at their house at Sutton. I liked Uncle Walter a lot, since in addition to classics he was an excellent botanist. But both he and Aunt Edith died before the war.

(Revised note on Charles: as noted in 1998, Richard simply made a note that “more may be told later.” This was not spoken of. I knew that the servant was called Naomi Carpendale and that Charles died, at a young age, in early 1904 - my grandfather succeeded him as Secretary of the Gunthorpe Bridge Company. From Granny's address book I discovered that one of Charles' sons, another Charles, had gone to Canada, to Nova Scotia. Subsequently I have learned that there was another brother, Eric Beaumont, who had also gone to Canada, and that their emigration seems to have been arranged through the “Boys Brigade” or “Lad's Club” that Oliver Hind had established in Nottingham. I have also been able to make contact with the granddaughter of Charles the emigrant).

The Heycocks mentioned above were Miss Katie and her brother Commander Cecil Heycock. They lived at Fern Court, Aldeburgh, and were my father's first cousins. Katie was also my godmother. She gave me a silver mug when I was christened in January 1910. Both of them played tennis, and tried patiently to teach me. Commander Cecil retired from the Navy and had a job inspecting Naval Establishments in East Anglia. I went with him on one or two trips in his rather good, but ugly

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looking, Hillman saloon car. He also took me sailing on the river Alde, but I found it very boring and dull after the Clyde, and I was always cold.

My mother's Visitors Book reminds me of many friends. Notable among them were the Invernairns, that is, Sir William and Lady Beardmore. Sir William Beardmore was perhaps the greatest industrialist of the day. His factories and his shipyard built everything from Battleships to Locomotives and internal combustion engines. He was in advance of his time in may ways, and was always seeing into and talking of the future. He and his wife stayed with us several times, and I think it was in November 1926 that I marvelled at his great Diesel Limousine - which was too high to fit in our garage. He was testing out diesel engines, which in due course he was to put into his London Beardmore taxis, which were so successful for many years.

We generally had one of Beardmore's Arrol-Johnston cars, which were made in Dumfries. Like him, they were in advance of their times in some ways, and were not always accepted. They were the first cars to have brakes on all four wheels, and this was considered to be a danger to other car drivers, who could not pull up so quickly!

I remember Beardmore telling us during dinner one evening that he had been invited to become a Director of the G. & S.W. Railway after it had, with other railway companies, been released from government control. The G.& S.W. had an extensive suburban network around Glasgow and on Clydebank and towards Ayrshire. Beardmore agreed to become a Director, but only on condition that they would take steps to electrify the entire system, which he knew was the only way to make it profitable in the future. If they did this he would arrange for his companies to supply all the materials and equipment which they could produce, at a specially reduced cost. As this was not agreed, he declined to serve as Director, saying that there was little future for Britain's railways unless they were electrified soon. The London and South Western Railway had, at that time, already started electrifying some of its lines south of Waterloo.

Another frequent visitor was Mr Spencer from Harrow-on-the-Hill and his wife. Mr Spencer had been a director of Tarmac Limited, a company which my father had formed, so that was how they knew one another. Mr Spencer, a great amateur rose grower, had a son called Tom, who had just been old enough to be a soldier in the War. Tom turned up occasionally, to take me on the back of his Triumph motor bike (it was called Trifina) to visit other local friends, including Austwin [?] Oakes, whom I was to know better later in life, as he became for a short time

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Chairman of the DBF [Diocesan Board of Finance] at Church House, Nottingham.

Two who were friends literally from infancy were Dorothy and Charley Ransom. Their father Mr. D'Oyley Ransom was a Nottingham solicitor who was also Diocesan Registrar, and whose wife was a good friend of my Mother. The Ransoms lived in the Park, but later moved to a new house at Normanton-on-the-Wolds. I often stayed there, or went to parties. Charley had a splendid model railway line in the top of the house.

There were two Roberts. Robert Thornton's father was, I think, a Director of Smiths Bank, and had a flat at the top of the bank, in Nottingham. Smiths Bank became a major part of the "Union of London & Smiths Bank". Apart from this flat the Thorntons lived at Keyworth; I stayed there once or twice.

The other Robert was Bobby Evans. His family lived in the Park, and had been very good to my father when he lived in Nottingham. Mrs Evans was an excellent pianist; she was still playing the piano in the same house when I came back to Nottingham after the last war, when she was being looked after by her two daughters. All of them are now long since dead and the house converted into flats.

Nearby lived the Parr family. Mr George Parr was also a solicitor, an outstanding one as a young man. Of the Parrs' many children I came to know Noel best. He became my Grandfather's solicitor, and his Registrar, as well as Diocesan Registrar after D'Oyley Ransom had to be "eased out" because, very sadly, he had lost his memory (though he looked the picture of health!).

George Parr had once been an active sportsman but by the time I was in my teens he had become rather infirm. My father used to collect him in our car and take him rough shooting over some fields at Normanton and Plumtree farmed by the Holbrook family.

I must also mention the Curshams. Mr and Mrs Cursham senior lived at Holme Pierrepont near the Rectory, so they and their family knew the Hackings well. Jack Cursham, who I think was the eldest son, was killed in the Easter Rising in Ireland after the Kaiser's War. He and his brother Curzon had I think served in the Sherwood Foresters. Later I knew Curzon well. Not only had he been at Repton but he qualified as a solicitor and won the Mackrell Prize, a notable achievement and honour, and lectured me in the law of property at Nottingham University College (before it was granted University status). Curzon was also a good cricketer.

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Irene, Curzon's sister, was known just as Rene. She married a man named Sydney Challands from Darlington, and they lived later at Hurworth-on-Tees. I remember seeing their child Betty in her pram, and we were to see Betty a good deal because, as an only child, she often came to stay with her grandparents. One year Betty and her mother came with us to Filey or Scarborough and I can remember being made to dance with her, a pastime which I disliked.

Apart from that, Betty fitted in. From an early age she was very good at the sort of tennis we played.

One other family should be mentioned, the Rendels. Mrs Rendel (known to us as Aunt Edith) was an old school friend of my mother's, from Derby. She had been a Miss Leacroft, and her ancestors had lived in Southwell in Byron's time, in the house at Burgage which now belongs to the County Council and is used as a Youth Club. Mrs Rendel's husband had deserted her, leaving her with three children, Eleanor, Cecily, and Bill. They often came to stay - first at Wollaton, and later at Southwell. Bill, who was about my age, very sadly had a bad motor cycle accident and after being laid up for months was left with one leg shorter than the other. I visited the Rendels at their home too. It was in Fountain Road, Edgbaston, and I went by the Midland (LMS) Railway from Nottingham to the old Birmingham New Street station.