Page 1
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.
Page
2
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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3
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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4
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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5
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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6
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.
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).
Page
7
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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8
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.
Page
9
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
Page
10
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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11
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.
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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12
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
Page
13
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
Page
14
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.
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
Page
15
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
Page
16
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.
Page
17
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".
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,
Page
18
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
Page
19
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.
Page
20
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
Page
21
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
Page
22
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.
Page
23
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.
