.jpg)
L-R: Charles Frederic Metcalfe (vicar), Emily Russell Metcalfe, John Fenwick Metcalfe, Charles Russell Metcalfe c1908/9 [Charles Russell is the author of the 1987 account below]
A Whiteparish local history page from younsmere-frustfield.org.uk
The photographs and account on this page were prepared and sent by Russell Metcalfe to Roger and Patricia Keeley at the time of Roger's death in 1987 and kindly provided for use here by Patricia (now Boyle). Russell was the son of the vicar Charles Frederic Metcalfe and lived in Whiteparish vicarage from his birth in 1904 until his father moved to a new parish in 1915. He is the boy standing on the right of the photograph below. (See the note about his name at the foot of this page.)
L-R: Charles Frederic Metcalfe (vicar), Emily Russell Metcalfe, John Fenwick Metcalfe, Charles Russell Metcalfe c1908/9 [Charles Russell is the author of the 1987 account below]
.jpg)
 DSC_0982.jpg)
Left: Punch & Judy outside the church between 1903 and 1915 (Vicarage coach house and The Street in the background. The grass triangle can be seen between the stand and the crowd)
Right: The same view photographed in May 2018
.jpg)
The Coronation Tent on what is now the Whiteparish Memorial Ground (check) on 26th June 1911
This picture is repeated below within Russell Metcalfe's account
The rest of this page is devoted to an account of life in the Vicarage between 1904 and 1915 written by Russell Metcalfe in 1987. Russell (1904-1991) was the son of the vicar Charles Frederic Metcalfe. Russell's original manuscript is typewritten with a few hand corrections, but the print quality is insuffient to provide a clear scan or to use OCR techniques. I've transcribed it here as accurately as possible, retaining the original spelling and punctuation where this would be rendered differently today but also correcting a small number of obvious typos. I have left slight inconsistencies untouched. Inevitably I will have introduced errors of my own: these are gradually being spotted and removed.
 small.jpg)
Charles Metcalf [sic] at Kew identifying a timber specimen
This photograph is copyright Royal Botanic Gardens Kew so cannot be uploaded to the public website
You can view it here: Royal Botanic Gardens Kew
 small.jpg)
f
Jodrell Laboratory staff, 1963, with Charles Metcalf [sic] (Keeper of the Jodrell laboratory) centre
This photograph is copyright Royal Botanic Gardens Kew so cannot be uploaded to the public website
You can view it here: Royal Botanic Gardens Kew
Use the links below to reach specific sections, or scroll down for the full document.
Contents
The events which are recalled in the following notes all took place in or near Whiteparish between 1904, when I was born, and 1915 when my father, who was Vicar, moved to another parish in Somerset. The people who are remembered were all local residents. Naturally I can most easily recall events which took place after the age of 4, but I can remember being pushed in a pram from a very early age. At the time the population of Whiteparish was about 800.
Looking back to those days from 1987 one cannot fail to realize that from 1904-1915 we were living in a very different age. Our movements were limited by transport which was largely horse-drawn, and this no doubt focussed attention on the very restricted environment in which we lived. Hence the ability to recall so many details. The nearest point on the old London and South Western Railway was the station at West Dean, some 3 miles from Whiteparish, up a narrow lane which is still little changed since I first knew it. To go to West Dean was quite an event even if it was only to meet visitors at the station, but it was still more exciting to take a train to Salisbury or Romsey, or sometimes further afield to visit grandparents or go for a summer holiday. The station master knew his regular passengers and often greeted us with great enthusiasm when we arrived at the station. Having taken tickets we retired to the waiting room until the ringing of a handbell notified the approach of the train.
At a short distance from Whiteparish, on the road to Salisbury, there was a milestone indicating that 'Sarum' (Salisbury's old name) was 8 miles away. Romsey was 7, and, if I remember rightly, London was 84. Apart from the railway from Dean one could go to Salisbury in a carrier's cart, the journey taking about 2 hours. There were several carriers to Salisbury, and one to Romsey. Those to Salisbury used covered wagons, but the one to Romsey (operated by Charlie Stride) consisted of a wagonette with a roof over it and surrounded by striped canvas curtains. I once went to Romsey in this vehicle to attend a dancing class. The journey took about 2 hours in each direction and the dancing class lasted for about an hour.
The Wiltshire roads were made of flints and those in neighbouring Hampshire of gravel. The flints produced numerous punctures in the primitive pneumatic tyres on the early cars which were beginning to appear in the district. In the summer the flint roads produced vast clouds of dust which spread not only over vehicles on the roads but also over the vegetation on either side, so much so that shrubs were coloured white. It was quite a relief to move to the yellow gravel roads which caused fewer punctures and produced less dust. The punctures were a serious menace as many cars did not carry a 'spare wheel' and one had to clamp a 'Stepney Tyre' on to a wheel with a puncture. The amount of traffic was slightly greater than in Whiteparish along the main road connecting Salisbury with Southampton. The main road was then and still is joined from Whiteparish either at Copse Corner (towards Southampton) or at Brickworth Park towards Salisbury. Two telegraph wires ran from Whiteparish post office to Brickworth where they were joined by the much greater number of wires connecting Salisbury with Southampton. Most of these wires were carried on telegraph poles which were black in colour because they were impregnated with a coal tar preservative. However, telegraph poles near the houses belonging to wealthy householders near Landford were painted green. This was done out of deference to the social status of the people concerned.
Society before the first world war was stratified in a way that would seem almost inconceivable to-day. Contact was maintained between the social strata provided suitable deference was shown to the more elevated. My father, like other clergy, was in the privileged position of being able to maintain unreserved social contact with all parishioners and he was equally at home with every body. The doctor was probably about the only other Whiteparish resident who had the same easy relationship with everybody. The doctor in office at the time of my birth was named Allingham, but I do not remember him. He was succeeded by Dr Case, who was a keen tennis player and he occasionally took me on botanizing excursions. He also took me from time to time in his pony carriage, driven by Mrs Case, when on his rounds to neighbouring villages such as Landford. However, these expeditions ceased when Dr Case eventually purchased a car - a two-seater with a very melodious horn which was frequently sounded as he passed the vicarage on his way home. Dr Case was succeeded by Dr Hopkins, who was still at Whiteparish when we left. On some occasions a Dr Fison was called to the vicarage from Salisbury. He came in a car which, on at least one occasion, left a large pool of lubricating oil in the vicarage drive, immediately ouside the front door.
My father, whose full name was Charles Frederic Metcalfe, came to Whiteparish in 1903. It was his first parish. He had previously held curacies, first at Ambleside in the Lake District and later another just outside Bath. He was born at Kentisbeare near Honiton in Devonshire, where his father, William Henry Metcalfe, was priest in charge. William Henry Metcalfe later became Vicar of Ottery S. Mary, a parish of which my father's elder brother, John William Metcalfe was a subsequent incumbent. Just before coming to Whiteparish my father married his first cousin, Emily Russell Jackson, whose father was Vicar of Moulton near Spalding in Lincolnshire. Thus both my father and mother had a markedly clerical background which must have stood them in good stead in taking over their duties at Whiteparish. Before he was ordained my father was at school at Sherborne and he subsequently went to Pembroke College, Cambridge where he graduated M.A. Later he was at the Theological College at Wells where he became keenly interested in exploring the Mendip caves. Indeed he became quite an expert at photographing the interior of these caves by the light of burning magnesium ribbon. He seemed always to be happy at Whiteparish, although, almost from the first he suffered from what was described as a heart ailment, and, at quite an early age he was advised by the doctor to give up riding round the parish on a very heavy sunbeam bicycle. After that he either walked or drove himself in a dogcart until he bought a primitive car in 1910, a subject which is discussed further below. In spite of his heart condition he outlived most of his contemporaries at Sherborne. Moreover he was for many years a keen golfer and tennis player. He was also a keen skater and, while at Cambridge, he skated from Ely to Cambridge along the river. He enjoyed singing Victorian melodies accompanied by my mother on the piano. His rendering of 'Tavistock Goozey Vair' was a great favourite. His recitations were also very effective, the 'Jackdaw of Rheims' being one of his specialities. While at Whiteparish both my parents were active members of a Shakespeare reading group which met in the homes of the various members, most of whom lived in large houses in the district. My father spent a lot of time rehearsing the parts he was to play before the readings took place.
The Vicarage at Whiteparish, at the time when my father was Vicar, originated from two back to back cottages with a drawing room, and bedroom above, built on at the south end. The front door then, as now [1987], was approached by a carriage drive from the front gate with a rose bed to the left as one approached the door and a narrow flower border next to the house. To the right of the front door there was a large stone that had previously been used for mounting horses and the door itself was opened by a large, fluted, brass door handle. The front of the Vicarage was covered with ivy and the back was partly covered by a vine that produced small green grapes when the summer was favourable. To the left of the front door there was an ancient yew tree. Between the rose bed and the road there was an inner hedge of cherry laurel and an outer but lower beech hedge. To the right of the front gate when approached from the road there was a large laurel tree (Laurus nobilis) and a perfumed Mock Orange (Philadelphus coronarius) commonly but erroneously referred to as 'Syringa'. A turn to the right on entering the front gate led to a coach house, with a hay loft above. Beyond the coach house, which subsequently became a garage, there was a stable where a pony named 'Peggy' was housed. On one occasion 'Peggy' escaped from her stable and migrated to the tennis court where she was rounded up by my father after some damage to the turf had been caused.
Beyond the stable there was a yard in which there was a large pit for the accumulation of manure for the garden provided by 'Peggy'. In the same yard there was a store for fire logs which were obtained in large consignments from a saw mill at Redlynch. Finally there was an apple house and carpenter's workshop.
The garden was very extensive as it included land on which a separate house has since been built. In our time it included two apple orchards, a tennis court, large areas for the cultivation of vegetables and several quite spectacular herbaceous borders. There were also 2 glasshouses. We grew all our own vegetables, including potatoes. There was a cluster of hazel nut trees (Filberts) near the back door, outside which there was a well from which water was obtained in a bucket which was raised and lowered on a windlass. This well produced water for domestic use when the rainwater supply failed during the summer. The water from the well was placed in a 100 gallon galvanized tank situated beside the windlass, from where it was released via a tap into a length of guttering, to the rainwater inlet to the water storage tank under the scullery floor. The water from the well was not fit for drinking and potable water had to be obtained from the village as described below.
Returning to the Vicarage itself, the front door led into a hall, to the left of which there was a tunnel-like entrance to the drawing room. A door at the back of the hall led to a passage which, in turn communicated with the kitchen, larder and scullery in which the back door was situated. A door on the right of the hall led to a smallish dining room. The walls of the dining room were hollow and not plastered, but very thick wall paper was fastened to wooden uprights. The space behind the wall paper seemed nearly always to be inhabited by a large population of mice some of which were caught in traps from time to time. To the right of the dining room there was a narrow store room in which there was a large store cupboard. The kitchen was small, with an old fashioned range with a side boiler which produced the hot water for washing up, baths etc.
The larder was situated between the kitchen and the scullery where there was a large sink and a hand-operated pump with which water was pumped daily from a large cavern containing rain water beneath the scullery floor to a tank in the roof which supplied water to the kitchen boiler, the scullery sink and the sole upstairs toilet. In the scullery where was a large brick built copper which we never used and a tank which would take 30 gallons of paraffin. This had a built in pump by which paraffin was delivered as and when required. Between the scullery and the store room (already mentioned as being next to the dining room) there was a second larder containing a meat safe. Pheasants, rabbits and venison were sometimes hung there.
Returning now to the hall there was the principal staircase in the left hand back corner. The staircase had a major twist in it so that its upper end led to a landing which extended from the top of the stairs to the north end of the house where there was a second staircase used by the domestic staff. The second staircase had no carpet. On proceeding northwards along the landing there were rooms opening on either side. To the front of the house there was a spare bedroom, my father's study and finally a small bedroom for the domestic staff. To the left of the landing there was the one and only toilet, my father's dressing room, a night nursery and a day nursery.
Also upstairs, at the south end of the house, was the principal bedroom which was approached by a short secondary staircase. This is the room in which I was born.
Artificial light was provided solely by paraffin lamps and candles. Heating was by open fires and paraffin stoves The lamps were 'done' once a week by my mother, on a morning set aside for the purpose. My father had a special reading lamp, with a green shade, in his study. He always looked after this himself and also the very cheerful 'Bath Drum' stove which was in operation in the hall all day during the winter months. In the drawing room there was what, at the time, was considered to be a very modern fireplace with no bars and a sunken air channel to provide the draught. The fireplace had a surround of red, glossy tiles. The mantelpiece was covered with a mass of small ornaments. In the drawing room there was also a special table for silver ornaments, an upright piano, sofa, Dutch cabinet full of ornaments, and several easy chairs. In the dining room there was a quite different fireplace with 2 pairs of iron doors that could be drawn across. If the top doors were closed and the bottom ones left open a sluggish fire could be quickly brought to life; if the lower doors were closed and upper ones open combustion could be slowed down for the sake of economy. The dining room had a mahogany table of which the size could be modified by the insertion or removal of supplementary leaves. There was a sideboard, and, by the window a small table on which I was sometimes allowed to keep a cage with dormice in it. The dining room was sometimes used for parochial meetings.
In the centre of the hall there was a gate-legged table, with a silver tray on it for the reception of visiting cards left by social callers. There was also a box used for letters to be posted. At the back of the hall there was a large glass-fronted cupboard filled mainly with pewter ornaments.
There was no bathroom. My mother had a hip bath in the principal bedroom; my father had a saucer bath in the dressing room; we children had an oval bath in the nursery, during the winter it was in front of the nursery fire. The oval bath had a lid and was transformed into a travelling trunk for annual visits to my grandmother at Exmouth and for our annual summer holiday, always at a well known seaside resort such as Bognor, Woolacombe, or Swanage. Bath water had to be carried upstairs from the kitchen in large cans. Sometimes copper cans were used, or larger, painted cans with spouts. The domestic staff had to be content with a large galvanized iron bath.
The inmates of the Vicarage consisted of my father and mother, myself and from 1908 my brother John Fenwick. He sadly was killed in a motor cycling accident at the early age of 17 when he was a midshipman in the R.N. This was a blow from which my parents never fully recovered. Besides these members of the family there was a resident maid of all work and a nanny. The garden was largely maintained by a whole time garden boy named Alford who received 15/- per week for his services. (His 2 brothers were the village carpenters who had a workshop opposite the end of Newton Lane. The inside of the workshop door was multicoloured as it was used for trying out paint).
Besides tending the garden Alford also pumped out the cesspool every day and the contents were taken in a hand pushed water cart for distribution in the orchard. Not surprisingly there were magnificent crops of apples, but also complaints from neighbouring residents about this odoriferous procedure. However, the sanitary inspector, who was called in to suggest improvements, decided that no alternative was possible!
There was a succession of nannies, none of whom stayed for very long. They, for the most part, treated us children in a kind and sensible way and we were in fact fond of nearly all of them. There was one rather dubious exception. She was a very good looking Italian girl named Aliverti, and, in retrospect, I am sure she must have caused quite a lot of heart burning among the young men of the village. She was more of a bully than the other nannies and we children did not like her much. Our favourite was undoubtedly Elsie Giles from Tarrant Gunville near Blandford. We called her 'Elf', and she had a brother who drove racing cars for a wealthy resident at Tarrant Gunville whose name I believe was Farqhason. Elf spent a lot of time telling us about her brother's motoring exploits and our excitement reached a very high pitch when the brother came to see Elf in a racing car that could, even in those days, be driven at 80 miles an hour, and it was parked outside the Vicarage gate. Another nanny who was very popular with us was Daisy Matthews whose home was near Copse Corner.
As already mentioned there was usually a resident maid of all work at the Vicarage and her activities were supplemented by a char lady named Jane. One episode I remember is that Jane arrived one day with a folded umbrella from which innumerable black beetles emerged and scurried over the larder floor. The cooking was gradually taken over by my mother, after which the quality of the food was greatly improved. My mother also did quite a bit of gardening besides helping with parish affairs.
Parishioners and others visiting the Vicarage called either at the front door or at the back door depending on their social status. For example back door visitors included the carrier who called once a week for shopping orders from Salisbury. The carrier was given a list of the items to be purchased, and he collected orders from other householders as well. He then proceeded to Salisbury in a horse drawn carriers cart, purchased the items required and returned with them in the evening. Commission was charged for these services. All tradesmen called at the back door, but visitors such as Squire Lawrence, the doctor, the schoolmaster and other social callers came to the front. Visitors to the front door rang a clanging door bell situated near the kitchen, but visitors to the back door rang a bell which was operated by pulling a large iron ring attached to the end of a piece of galvanized wire. The schoolmaster, Mr. Faulkner, was a frequent visitor as he and my father worked closely together in the parish and they also shared a common interest in photography. He sometimes talked to my father for long periods through the open front door, the hall meanwhile becoming colder and colder when the weather was bad. I never knew why he would not come in which would have been so much more sensible.
The inhabitants of Whiteparish and surrounding villages such as Landford, Plaitford, Sherfield English included many characters who perhaps did not seem so extraordinary to us at the time, but who are worth remembering. These included the following:-
He was a dominant figure in the village. He lived at Cowesfield House which no longer exists. He suffered from glaucoma and wore very dark spectacles. He and his wife were strong supporters of All Saints church which they attended every Sunday without fail. He and his wife walked many miles in the district always carrying camp stools on which they rested when weary. Otherwise they travelled in a carriage and pair with coachman and footman. As far as I am aware they never had a car for they regarded cars as new fangled vehicles which made horses shy. There were sometimes parish gatherings at Cowesfield House. There was a large conservatory attached to the house in which, inter alia, oranges were cultivated, and this impressed me very much as a small boy. Squire Lawrence differed from other Whiteparish residents in having a piped water supply obtained from an artesian well. At one stage he offered to supply water to the whole village from the same artesian well, but the offer was regarded with suspicion by the villagers and turned down. After we left Whiteparish Squire Lawrence made local history by having a row with my father's successor of whose churchmanship the Squire disapproved.
This family lived at Ashmore (?) [Ashmore House, almost certainly] up Dean Lane. The captain was a retired merchant seaman. He was, like Squire Lawrence, a strong supporter of All Saints Church provided the incumbent was sufficiently evangelical. My father, unlike his immediate successor, passed muster in this respect. Mrs. Davis I remember as a lady who always wore black or very dark coloured dresses, with hat to match. Her black clothes contrasted with her very pink cheeks and she spoke in a very mumbling way. My brother always maintained that she said 'budda, budda, budda' and that her remarks were meaningless. This, however, was a misjudgement as her conversation was wholly intelligible if only one could hear it clearly. There were 3 Davis daughters, Mabel, Ethel and Amy. Mabel was a somewhat demanding, middle-aged lady. Ethel who was slightly younger was an ineffective person much given to blinking. Amy had an impediment in her speech and her conversation was almost unintelligible to my brother and myself. I am afraid we spent a lot of time imitating her.
The Faulkners lived in a house, which I believe was called 'Wayside', next to the village school of which Mr. Faulkner was head master. Mrs. Faulkner I remember as a large, stolid lady. The house in which they lived always seemed rather stuffy because no windows in it were ever opened. There were 4 children - Keith, Doris, Phyllis and Hugh. Hugh, the youngest, was about my own age and I always regarded the others as too much older than myself to be of much interest. As already mentioned Mr. Faulkner was a keen photographer and he and my father frequently compared notes on this subject. One event connected with the school which I always remember was the unveiling (if this is the correct term) of the flagstaff in the playground in front of the school, an event which appropriately took place on Empire Day, probably in 1912 or 1913. All the notables in the village were present and Mr. Faulkner photographed the assembled multitude, my brother and I standing at the foot of the flagstaff in front of all the other children. Curiously enough I again met Hugh Faulkner many year later in Jamaica where he was headmaster of a technical school. We also met again in Swanage shortly before he died and at both encounters we compared notes about our memories of Whiteparish.
Mr Russell was not a permanent resident at Whiteparish as he was Vicar of St. Martins, Gospel Oak, in North London. However he owned the White Cottage on Dean Hill to which he and his family repaired from time to time, presumably to escape from the tensions of a town parish. Whenever he stayed at the White Cottage he always came to the Vicarage and he relieved my father by preaching at All Saints Church. I anticipated his arrival with mixed feelings.. On the one hand his sermons were very much longer than my father's, and his delivery was very slow. This added to the tedium of attending mattins. The chief compensation from my point of view was that he always gave me some sweets, usually boiled sweets in glass bottles, which I was allowed to consume as and when my parents permitted. Mr. Russell was always accompanied by his wife and daughter and we frequently went to the White Cottage for tea.
This gentleman was a collateral descendent of the famous Admiral and he lived at Trafalgar House. I was very awed when I was taken there for tea, probably at about the age of 6. I was greatly impressed by the size of the house and by some very tasty sandwiches which were served for tea. I was also amazed because he had a private chapel actually in the house. Lord Nelson sometimes came to meetings at the Vicarage and I was greatly intrigued by the fact that an air cushion had to be provided for him to sit on. Why was this I asked, but never received a straight answer! On one occasion Lord Nelson gave a conducted tour to a casual visitor looking round All Saints Church and was unexpectedly tipped 2/6 for his services! [2/6 is 2 shillings and sixpence, 15p in modern (2019) decimal coinage.]
I do not remember so much about Mr Shelley himself as I do about his son John. One memorable occasion was when a gathering of children and grown ups were invited to tea at Sir George Luck's. The children, amongst whom were John Shelley and myself, were sent to amuse themselves in an upstairs room while the grown ups repaired to the drawing room. Sir George's daughter was hostess to the children. The children must have been a pretty tough lot for I remember that one of the principal amusements was to make a poker red hot in the coal fire and hold it as close as possible to John Shelley's face without actually harming him. The poor lad, who was rather a timid character, was absolutely terrified. It was subsequently decided that John and I were to fight each other while the other children looked on. Poor John came off worst in the fight. Later, when the children and grown ups were reunited for tea, I found myself sitting next to John Shelley and his mother and felt most uncomfortable at hearing John relate to his mother what had happened upstairs. I was told some days later that Lady Luck had apologized to Mrs. Shelley for what had happened. (I believe that Sir George Luck, in whose house at Landford these events took place was a retired Governor of the Tower of London, but of this I am a little uncertain).
On another occasion my brother and I were taken to a Christmas party at the Shelleys. The weather was very cold at the time and my mother insisted that we could not go to the party unless we were wrapped up in eiderdowns and sat on the floor of the back seat of the car. Cars were, of course, unheated in those days and furthermore our car was protected only by a canvas hood with side curtains. My brother and I were furious, but we survived the journey, with no harmful consequences, and enjoyed the party when we got there.
I do not remember much about Mr Long or his wife, but he had a daughter Ursula with whom I enjoyed playing.
Mr Whitaker and his wife were a childless couple. Mr Whitaker was a keen collector of birds' eggs and a room at his Vicarage was devoted to this topic. I was taken to see his collection from time to time and I always wondered why he, a good man and a vicar, was allowed to collect birds' eggs while I was actively discouraged from so doing. This, at the time, seemed fundamentally unfair.
The Whitakers were very friendly with my parents and exchanges of pulpits took place. When my father first bought a car a new home had to be found for the pony (Peggy) and the dog cart. They were taken over by the Whitakers, but Peggy did not thrive in the new stable and, as far as I can remember, the poor but faithful animal had to be put down.
I cannot remember his name, but he had a large family of boys with whom I became quite friendly shortly before we left Whiteparish. This contact only became possible when I had acquired a bicycle and was able to cycle to Redlynch. On the way to Redlynch one passed a large cyder orchard kept by a Mr Viney. He supplied kegs of cyder for my father and on one occasion the cork blew out of a keg and went over a hedge while being transported by car.
His name was Jarvis or Jervis and we sometimes went to exciting children's parties in his garden. As far as I can remember he had one daughter.
His name may have been Wilkinson, but the most exiting thing about him from my point of view was that he had an ear trumpet. It was quite a short one and he had to lean forward to hear what children were saying.
Sir Alfred lived at Melchett Court following the death of Lady Ashburton who was the previous inmate [see foot of page for information about Lady Ashburton]. When Lady Ashburton died there was a sale at Melchett Court where my father purchased various items of furniture and crockery. These included a walnut occasional table which we still have. Sir Alfred Mond, of German origin, was head of the firm of Brunner Mond and Co which was the forerunner of I.C.I. He must have come to Melchett Court shortly before the first World War. He was very unpopular because of his German origin. In order to make amends, and to show his allegiance to the Allied Cause, he presented Whiteparish with a shooting range where the villagers could prepare to shoot his ex fellow countrymen. I do not know what reaction there was among the villagers. I do not think I ever met Sir Alfred, but I heard my parents speak of him on various occasions.
I remember with much greater affection some of the less prominent members of the village community. These included the following:-
He wore a splendid uniform with a helmet and delivered the 'Daily Mail' to the Vicarage every day. The 'Mail' at that time cost 1/2d and it was sent by post from London until newspapers were sold in the village. Of course Mr Hayter used to bring letters and parcels as well. On one occasion he dropped a post card addressed to my mother while walking through a wood near Copse Corner. When he subsequently arrived at the Vicarage he told my mother what he had done, but went on to say that it really did not matter because he noticed before losing it that the post card was from Miss Fisher inviting my mother to have tea with her on a specific date which he also remembered!
He always wore an apron and a straw hat and was ever ready to exchange the time of day with those passing his saddlery down the village street. Mr. Till was supported by several co-workers and their services were in constant demand in those days of horse drawn vehicles. The entrance to the saddlery was via two half doors, on above the other, as in a stable. As the top half was always open the exchange of conversation with passers by was made easy.
I do not remember much about him except that he used to repair our boots and shoes. He may not have been very efficient because, after a time, it became customary to have our footwear repaired in Salisbury. He had a son named Hubert who, some years later, drove a delivery van at Marlborough and I used to see Hubert from time to time when I was at school there.
She was a great favourite with children because she sold 1d toys which we were permitted to buy from time to time. She also sold tins of McIntosh's Extra Cream Toffee which cost 3d. At Christmas time the toy display was enlivened by a very large clockwork toy which was placed in the centre of the window. This actually worked in the window and was a great source of attraction. Mrs. Hayes also sold a wide range of household goods and foods. The food was sometimes not of the best quality and I can remember being badly put off by some very rancid butter. Hayes' shop was a well known focal centre for villagers.
(This was the old post office, further down the village than the one which came into use not long before we left Whiteparish).
I remember Mrs Woodford as a somewhat wizened old lady. She operated the telegraph which connected Whiteparish with the outside world. It cost a minimum of 6d to send a telegram and I think this covered 12 words. In the post office there was a metal alarm clock which was the official source of the right time in the village. I believe the right time was sent by telegraph from Salisbury. Mrs Woodford also sold 1d packets of 'ruled notepaper' on which I used to write letters, especially 'thank you' letters after birthdays and Christmas. She also received sums such as 2/6 or 5/- when I paid them into my post office bank, the bank book being in the custody of my mother. The largest sum I ever paid into the bank was a golden sovereign given to me by Squire Lawrence in an unexpected act of generosity. Mrs Woodford remarked 'about time too the old skinflint'. So I imagine he must have had a bad reputation for being generous. The Woodford family also provided our daily bread and sold Teddy Bear biscuits.
He lived in a cottage up Dean Lane. He was a curious old boy whose mental state was slightly subnormal. One of his peculiarities was that he believed himself to be a boy friend of Mabel Davis. Not surprisingly his overtures were spurned and eventually my father was called on to intervene and harmony was restored.
Mr Sullivan at the King's Head was in his day reputed to be about the only person in the village who could repair cars. He himself owned a prehistoric vehicle but I have forgotten the make. Subsequently Mr Pearce, the butcher, became the principal car repairer, and he also served as chauffeur when his own car was let out on hire. On one occasion he drove me back to school at Christchurch when our own car was out of order. Mr Pearce was the first person in Whiteparish to sell petrol. Even in those days it was 'Shell' and it was sold in red cans each containing 2 gallons. 'Shell' cost slightly more than 'Pratts' which was sold in green cans. My father used Pratts and it had to be purchased from a blacksmith on the road to Southampton a short distance beyond Copse Corner. The blacksmith's stock of petrol was stored in what had previously been a garden frame situated at the bottom of his garden. We usually bought 4 or 6 cans at a time taking back the empty cans when new ones were purchased.
I cannot remember this lady very clearly but she (and presumably her husband) presided over The White Hart. Occasionally we had visitors at the Vicarage for whom we could not provide sleeping accommodation and when this happened Mrs. Hamlyn could be relied on to provide a bedroom at 'The White Hart'. Our visitors were allowed to enter the inn discreetly by an obscure door so that there was no need for them to go through the bar. Social evenings for members of the church choir were held at 'The White Hart' and I can remember my father devising and making equipment for games to keep the choir occupied after the supper. I was, of course, too young to attend the suppers myself and I do not think my mother had anything to do with them.
Mr Hinwood senior was an elderly, bearded man when I knew him and he operated a blacksmith's business up the Romsey road. Our own pony was taken there when new shoes were required. Mr Hinwood's forge was a great source of interest to me, especially when he worked the bellows and made the fire roar.
Mr. Hinwood had a son named Alfred who let out a brougham on hire which was drawn by a broken winded horse. He also had a wagonette for hire. I was sometimes taken to children's parties in the brougham and the wagonette was sometimes hired to go to the station at West Dean, or the one at Downton for trains in the Bournemouth direction. Besides letting out carriages on hire Alfred Hinwood also dealt in antiques, particularly antique ornaments. His sister Edna booked orders for the carriages and also assisted with the sale of antiques. At a later date Alfred Hinwood ran a garage in Salisbury to which our car was sometimes taken to be repaired. These repairs were seldom satisfactory, largely, I expect, because Alfred's knowledge of such matters was limited. Nevertheless Alfred Hinwood rose to being the Salisbury agent for 'Ford' cars. This was at the time when the old 'Flivver' as we called it was in vogue [the Ford Model T, produced from 1908 to 1927]. I heard that he afterwards, perhaps not surprisingly, lost the Ford agency. I remember my father saying that he could never persuade Alfred Hinwood to send in a bill. I think he knew that he would receive immediate payment when he did so, and so stored up my father's bills against a rainy day. Many years after we left Whiteparish Alfred Hinwood repaired my own motor bike when it broke down near Salisbury.
Mr. and Mrs. Lockyer lived up the Romsey Road where they had a business selling and repairing bicycles. When my parents first came to Whiteparish they stayed first at 'The White Hart' at Salisbury from where they moved to the Lockyers until the Vicarage was ready for them. Shortly before these events Mrs. Lockyer had had the misfortune to have the end of one of her fingers removed in a chaff cutter. When telling my mother about this event she is reported to have said 'I saw the poor little thing lying there and it was quite dead'.
During our time at Whiteparish machinery for grinding and crushing cereals was installed in a large wooden shed to the left of Mr Lockyer's bicycle shop and Mr Lockyer had the responsibility of working it. The machines, which were extremely noisy, were operated by an oil engine manufactured at Yeovil.
The inauguration of this mill was an event of such importance in the village that it was made a social occasion. For many years I had a photograph that was taken at the time showing the villagers outside the shed in which the mill was situated, but sadly the photograph has been lost. The mill was a great source of interest to me as a small boy and I went to see it working whenever there was an opportunity.
These included Mrs. Zebedee who dealt with the vicarage laundry. I was always glad of an opportunity to visit her because she kept bantams, and she often gave me bantam's eggs which always seemed to have a better taste than common or garden hen's eggs. Mrs. Zebedee had a daughter named Eva who, for a time, did the cooking etc. at the Vicarage. She also had a son named Burt who was one of the older boys at the village school at the time. He was one of our nanny, Aliverti's, boy friends.
On the right hand side of the road to Salisbury, not far beyond Hayes' shop but on the opposite side of the road was a largish house occupied by a Mr. William Thomas Spark and his wife. Unlike most Whiteparish residents at that time he had a short well trimmed beard. He generally wore a tweed suit and tweed cap to match. He was sufficiently affluent to merit a high social status in Whiteparish. I believe he was in some way connected with the manufacture of munitions. He always interested me partly because he owned a 'Ford' car and partly because he kept a number of dogs ranging from a black retriever to a Skye terrier. Some of these dogs lived in kennels in a paddock adjoining the house and they spent a lot of time barking at passers by. On one occasion there was a demonstration of 'Minimax' fire extinguishers in the same paddock. Fire extinguishers of this type were then relatively unknown but were obviously important in a place like Whiteparish where there was no public water supply. I remember this demonstration particularly well as I was permitted to hold a 'Minimax' while it was in operation thereby helping to extinguish a fire. This demonstration was quite a social occasion and it was attended by the usual village notables. I still have a photograph of the demonstration.
Mrs. Spark was a frequent visitor to the Vicarage, and, if she came at tea time, she had to be provided with hot water to drink because tea did not agree with her. A special glass, which fitted into a metal holder with a handle was kept at the Vicarage for Mrs. Sparks's convenience.
Another character I remember was Mrs. Dibden who had the reputation, whenever there was a jumble sale, of being the first on the scene and mopping up as many bargains as possible. Then there was Bessy Loughman (? spelling) a middle aged character who was troubled by a large goitre. She lived in a cottage at the end of the village on the road to Salisbury where she was surrounded by masses of china ornaments. On one memorable occasion she was being taken in the back of our car to a parochial outing of some kind at Downton. As the car approached Downton a husky voice from Bessy was heard to say 'Mrs Metcaf, Mrs Metcaf, me at's gone'. And there it was, on the road, far behind the car, and it had to be retrieved.
There were very large Christmas parties for children at the Wigram's at Landford, the Robinsons (? name) at Redlynch. There were also egg hunting parties at Easter time. On one occasion during an indoor hunt I found 2/6 in an overcoat pocket and was very annoyed because I was not allowed to keep it.
During the time we lived at Whiteparish there were some major changes, one of the most significant being the introduction of the motor car. Before cars and lorries appeared on the scene the earlier horse drawn traffic ranged from brewers drays from Romsey (Strong's Romsey Ale) and Salisbury, farm carts and hay wains to carriages of the wealthy with coachmen and footmen. There were also some steam traction engines with large metal wheels which churned up the flint roads. Steam traction engines were used for various purposes ranging from work on farms to household removals. There were also steam engines drawn by horses which were used to work threshing machines. This last type of vehicle always annoyed me because it seemed illogical to use horses to move steam engines. But then in those days horses were also used on the railways for moving goods trucks in shunting yards.
As already mentioned my father for some years had a dog cart. Our dog cart had a seat for 2 looking towards the front of the vehicle which was occupied by the driver and one passenger. There was a second seat for 2 facing backwards. A certain amount of luggage (or presumably some dogs) could be carried in a compartment between the front and back seats. There was no protection against the weather other than thick waterproof rugs and carriage umbrellas.
In 1910, when I was six years old, my father bought a single cylinder 6 horse power Rover. This 2-seated vehicle cost rather more than £100 and it was delivered to Whiteparish from London at an additional charge of less than £1. Until recently I still had the receipt for this car. Its average speed was about 16 miles an hour and it reached Salisbury from Whiteparish in about 30 minutes, which was rapid compared with the carriers' carts which took about 2 hours. The only other cars in the village at that time were the one belonging to Mr Sullivan at the King's Head and another belonging to Dr Case. Butcher Pearce's car was of slightly later vintage. Also at about that time the Ansells came ostentatiously to All Saints Church in a Lanchester.
My father's Rover gradually became too small for the growing family and, at one stage it was customary to remove the door on the near side so that a passenger could sit on the floor of the car with his or her feet resting on the running board. The car met with sundry adventures many of them caused by punctures or mechanical breakdowns. On one occasion it was driven backwards into a ditch from which it had to be extricated by 2 strong men. A particularly notable occasion was when my parents started on an expedition to Southampton to buy Sunday School prizes. One mile from the Vicarage the car came to a standstill and nothing would induce it to show any sign of life. So it returned ignominiously to the Vicarage drawn by a horse. The aid of Mr Sullivan was invoked and the entire engine was dismantled. I do not know precisely what was wrong but my father told me that it was repaired with a wire nail, after which the engine was reassembled and normal running restored.
After running the Rover for 3 years it was sold to somebody who transferred it to India. I often wondered what fate befell it in that country, but sadly I do not know.
Having disposed of the Rover my father acquired an 'Alldays and Onions', 2-cylinder car with a 5 seater body. Alldays and Onions cars were manufactured in Birmingham by a firm that also made railway engines. Some of the Alldays cars were presented as prizes to purveyors of 'Zambuk', a proprietary substance sold in tins, but I cannot remember for what purpose it was used. Anyhow my father acquired this car from someone who had sold so much 'Zambuk' that he had received it as a prize. Apparently he had no use for the Alldays, so perhaps he was wise enough to have obtained a car of a better make.
The Alldays and Onions car was green in colour, it had brass oil side lamps and a single acetylene headlamp supplied with acetylene generated by the action of water on calcium carbide in a brass contraption on one of the running boards. Needless to say the illumination provided was totally inadequate for driving after dark, but the consequent hazards were a constant source of merriment to my brother and myself when travelling in the back seat. The car had a bulb horn connected to the bulb by a long, flexible brass tube. The hand brake and gear lever were situated outside the body of the car and driver had to pull himself forward on the seat whenever the hand brake or gear lever had to be operated. There was no foot accelerator and the carburettor was controlled by a small lever above the steering wheel. The ignition was advanced or retarded by a second lever in the same position. Seeing that the car had a heavy five seater body and a 2-cylinder engine, gear changing was unavoidably very frequent and required great skill. Synchromesh gears were then unknown, and double declutching was essential when changing from a higher to a lower gear. The gear box was filled with thick oily grease and in cold weather it was really stiff. It is not surprising that the sound of clashing gear wheels was not infrequent, especially on a cold morning. There was great difficulty in getting into top gear for the first time in the day and we frequently had to make a fresh start in the village street after leaving the Vicarage. Not surprisingly new sets of gear wheels were required from time to time.
The petrol tank was under the front seat and the petrol flowed from there to the engine by gravity. There was an emergency hand pump for the petrol on the steering column, but I cannot remember this being used so presumably it was ineffective. The net result was that petrol failed to reach the engine on steep hills and it was then necessary to go into reverse and drive up backwards. In case of extreme emergency it was possible to lower a spike from underneath the car which stuck into the road surface and so prevented further movement. Although we sometimes got stuck on hills I do not remember that the spike into the road was ever used. Protection against the weather was provided by a canvas hood, which was very difficult to raise, supplemented by side curtains. In bad weather the hood was kept up permanently and some of the side curtains were always in position.
We had many exciting adventures with the 'Alldays', and the fact that it could carry 4 passengers in addition to the driver meant that it was in frequent demand for such purposes as taking parishioners to Salisbury infirmary or to the Eye Hospital in Southampton. There was, of course, no ambulance service in those days.
One notable adventure with the Alldays was an occasion when my father drove it down Newton Lane when the road surface was very slippery. Consequently the car skidded and it came to rest transversely across the narrow lane which was completely blocked to traffic. Hardly had this happened before another car, travelling towards Whiteparish, arrived on the scene and its further progress was completely blocked. The occupant of this car proved to be a non-conformist minister on his way to address an audience at the Wesleyan chapel. In those days when there was so much needless animosity between the Church of England and the non-conformists it was a major calamity for the Vicar of Whiteparish to obstruct the passage of a Wesleyan Minister. I feel sure that my father must have dealt with the situation very tactfully, but the event probably caused much merriment in the local pubs.
My father actually continued to run the Alldays until about 1920, long after we left Whiteparish, and its behaviour became increasingly unpredictable as the years went by. It was eventually given in part exchange for a second hand 'Swift' which gave almost as much trouble as the Alldays. The dealer who took over the Alldays afterwards complained bitterly about its performance and I was never quite sure who had the worst of the bargain. On one occasion an attempt to dispose of the Alldays was made by offering it for sale in Wimborne market place on market day. The only offer that was made for it was 5/- from a farmer.
I remember the first motor bus that provided a regular service to Whiteparish. It was a box-like vehicle, painted bright yellow, and, as far as I can remember its wheels had solid tyres. Its starting point was at Wellow in the New Forest and it came via Landford to Whiteparish and on to Salisbury, returning in the reverse direction later in the day. Its official stopping place at Whiteparish was by the vicarage wall. I only remember travelling in the bus on one occasion. The ventilation was poor and there was a good deal of vibration. The lack of ventilation probably meant that it was something of a germ trap and I was unlucky enough to pick up an influenza infection.
I also remember the first occasion when a motor coach came to Whiteparish. It was chartered to convey a party of parishioners, but I cannot remember to what destination but it may well have been Bournemouth. The coach, like the bus, was yellow in colour and it started from the churchyard gate opposite the Vicarage. Unlike the bus it was an open vehicle of the type to which we then referred as a 'motor toast-rack' because the passengers were seated in transverse rows across the coach.
My parents were called at 7.30 a.m. when tea was brought to them in bed. I presume the domestic staff must have arisen very much earlier and started up the kitchen range, as there was no other method of producing hot water. My parents then had baths, my mother in a hip bath in the bedroom and my father a saucer bath in his dressing room. The hot water for these ablutions was carried upstairs by the domestic staff, either in brightly polished copper cans or in brown cans with long spouts. These cans were filled from the boiler next to the kitchen range. Breakfast must have been at about 9 a.m. We children were taken in hand by nanny who saw that we were dressed and ready for breakfast which was served in the nursery. My parents breakfasted separately in the dining room. If the nursery breakfast was over in time we children sometimes joined our parents in the dining room, and, if we were lucky, we were given tit-bits from their breakfast which always seemed to taste much better than anything we had eaten in the nursery.
During the morning my father often spent a good deal of time in his study, a room which children were permitted to enter only on special occasions. On Saturdays we were enjoined to be specially quiet because sermons were being prepared. Meanwhile my mother was occupied with domestic chores such as issuing food and cleaning materials for the day's needs. At the same time, weather permitting, we children were taken for a walk by nanny, returning in time for a rest in bed at 12 noon, followed by lunch in the nursery at 1 p.m. My parents had lunch in the dining room and then generally found it necessary to have a rest in the drawing room till 2.30 p.m. when they again became active in various ways. My father often visited elderly parishioners and sick people during the afternoon. Meanwhile nanny took us for the second walk of the day after which we had tea in the nursery where we were usually joined by the maid from the kitchen. After tea we joined our parents in the drawing room to read books or play games. These activities sometimes extended into the hall. We were packed off to bed not later than 6.30 p.m.
There were day to day variations of this programme. When the weather was wet we were kept indoors. There were occasional children's parties, indoors in the winter and playing in the garden in the summer. In the summer there were numerous tennis parties as both my parents were keen players. Picnics in such places as on Pepperbox Hill, on Dean Hill, or in the New Forest took place in the summer.
This routine became somewhat modified when it was decided that I, and subsequently my brother, were to have lessons. My mother taught me the essentials of reading and writing, and I am sure that this individual instruction was far more effective than the present practice of being instructed in a class at school. Later my lessons were entrusted to a Miss Wallace (or Wallis) who came daily on a bicycle and gave me lessons in the dining room and piano lessons in the drawing room. Her teaching was also effective. Later on I had joint lessons with a girl of about my own age named Rhoda L'Estrange. These lessons took place at Rhoda's home in Forty Acre Lane to which I walked every day in all weathers. Rhoda used to accompany me part of the way home after the lessons were over. Our teacher was a Miss Rawkins. Eventually the time came when I was sent to a small boarding school at Christchurch at the age of 9 and, at the end of my first term, the First World War started. The move to the boarding school was somewhat traumatic after the sheltered life at the Vicarage but I managed to adapt to the new regime quite quickly.
Sunday at the Vicarage was a day which we children regarded with rather mixed feelings. It started with my parents getting up in time for the 8.00 a.m. communion service. After breakfast we all assembled in the dining room at about 10.30 a.m. From 10.30 - 10.35 the three bells were rung by Mr Beauchamp, Mr Tubb and a third ringer whose name I do not recall. On Sundays my father wore a clerical suit with a long frock coat, and, when he went out he wore a Noah's Ark hat. We children, of course had clean clothes and we rather resented the fact that they had to be kept clean. At 10.55 a single bell was rung by Mr Beauchamp for 5 minutes, and, during this period the vicarage family, but excluding nanny and the maid, walked to church where Mattins began punctually at 11.00 a.m. Nanny and the maid went to Evensong at 6.30.
In church most members of the congregation had their allotted places. Squire Lawrence and his wife sat at the front just below the pulpit. They generally walked to church, but sometimes came in a carriage and pair with coachman and footman. Behind the Lawrences sat the Ansells (or Andsells?), a wealthy family from Broxmore House whose prosperity was maintained by activities in the city of London. There were two very voluminous daughters, and, as already noted, the family came to church in a Lanchester.
(The Ansells sometimes gave Christmas parties for the children from Mr. Faulkner's school. I remember one such party where there was an enormous Christmas tree, and, miracle of miracles, there was an H.M.V. Gramophone with a very large horn which reproduced songs such as 'John Peel', and instrumental music which sounded very artificial.)
Returning to the church service, the vicarage family sat a little further back than the Ansells, and Captain Davis and his family occupied a pew near the front of the north aisle.
The organ was played by Mr Lockyer from the bicycle shop, and as his activities were clearly visible to a large part of the congregation I amused myself by watching the stops coming in and out. After a time from the appearance of the music sheets I could predict which chant was to be played. A small boy pumped the bellows and he sang lustily and often not in tune. The lessons were read by Mr. Faulkner.
After the service and subsequent conversation with parishioners we returned to the vicarage for lunch which had been prepared by the domestic staff while the service was in progress. In the evening my mother read stories to us children from a large blue 'Sunday Book' with gold lettering on the spine.
My brother and I led a very sheltered existence until we were exposed to life at boarding schools. Most present day youngsters would have found our mode of life very dull. However it never appeared to be so to us and we were content with playing in the house and garden. We both had 'pretend houses' in the garden. Mine was under the Bay tree by the front gate. My brother's was under a large yew tree beside the tennis court. These 'houses' were called 'Bay Villa' and 'Yew Villa' respectively. To have shared a single house would have caused untold friction and my parents showed great wisdom in keeping them separate.
We also had our own little gardens. I remember the thrill of sowing nasturtiums 'Variety Tom Thumb' and Virginia Stock. My garden also boasted a lavender bush and a hollyhock. There were also Sweet Williams and Eschscholzias. Water for the plants was very scarce in the summer but we had a large apothecary's mortar on the path separating the two little gardens and we were permitted to keep this full of rain water. We kept guinea pigs in the orchard and they multiplied in a big way and the mystery of how this happened was never fully explained. Nor were we able to find out where the cat's kittens came from. Cultivating our little gardens and searching for Bee Orchids on Pepper Box Hill and for Sundews in the New Forest undoubtedly initiated my interest in botany. So an interest in plants at and near Whiteparish must ultimately have had some impact on the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew [see foot of page for further information].
Although we had contact with other children at parties and social events, there was no contact at all with the village children. We also had little contact with the surrounding agricultural community. However I was always interested in fields of wheat, barley and oats, turnips and swedes. Hay cutting was an important event. The hay cutting was done by horse drawn machines, and the self binding machines, also drawn by horses, for harvesting grain crops seemed almost miraculous. Then there was rick building, and the thrill of seeing a threshing machine at work is still memorable. We were never allowed to go very near these operations in spite of repeated requests to do so. Ploughing was mostly by horse drawn ploughs, but some ploughs were introduced which were operated by cables attached to two steam engines on opposite sides of the field.
On the animal side there were cows, sheep and pigs. Many of the villagers kept a pig in the back garden and I was always very distressed by the sounds they made while being slaughtered. The sheep were cared for by dedicated shepherds who sometimes operated from shepherds' huts on wheels which were moved by horses from field to field or down to down. One year was specially memorable because a farmer named Gay had a lamb that was born with 5 legs, and I remember being taken to see this unusual animal.
Mrs. Gay was the owner of a primitive gramophone (phonograph) with cylindrical records and a horn that was so large that it had to be supported by a metal stand. To have this instrument demonstrated by Mrs Gay was a memorable event.
Mr. Fulford operated a farm on the Cowesfield estate from where we collected butter and eggs, and, on very rare occasions, a chicken. The eggs were laid by hens that lived freely in the farmyard. Eggs cost abut 1d each, but in times of abundance one could get 18 for 1/-. Rabbits and hares were to be seen hanging in the vicarage larder from time to time and venison was supplied from the Deer Park at Brickworth by a Mr. Sheriff. This deer park had the reputation of being the smallest in Britain.
Most of the young people in Whiteparish attended the school of which Mr. Faulkner was head master. He was assisted by about four, rather severe-looking school ma'ams. We often saw the children playing in the school playground as we went past. One game that always interested me was 'Hop Scotch'. I was never allowed to join in, so never discovered just how it was played. This game was sometimes played in the road as well as in the playground. This could be done with impunity because there was so little traffic. Another common activity was trolling hoops along the road. The girls had wooden hoops and the boys had metal ones. I was allowed to have a wooden hoop, but never a metal one. This seemed all wrong to me because boys always had metal hoops.
Another pastime was to convert the circular lid of a tin box into a wheel which was pulled along the road on a string that was threaded through a hole in the centre of the lid. I had quite a number of these lid wheels at one time or another and greatly enjoyed running them along the road.
If one went past the school when lessons were in progress one could hear multiplication tables and other items being recited in unison. Writing was learned on slates using slate pencils. Basically instruction was in the 3 R's but I really have no idea how effective it was. I only went into the school on special occasions such as when jumble sales were held.
At the vicarage we burned a considerable quantity of fire logs which came from a sawmill at Redlynch. Fires were started with chopped up twigs and thin branches a large quantity of which were kept in a large wooden box in the scullery. Those in the village who could not afford fire logs from a sawmill gleaned their own from the various copses and woods in the neighbourhood. There were often large contingents of firewood gleaners, particularly as I remember up Dean Lane. For the most part they were women, who collected the wood in an odd assortment of hand carts ranging from old perambulators to wooden boxes on wheels.
National events that I remember were the death of Edward VII and the coronation of George V. On the day that we heard that Edward VII had died I came down Dean Lane with my mother when one of the church bells was tolled. This was unusual on a week day and my mother explained that it was because the king had died. I then asked a number of questions about why it was necessary to toll a bell on such an occasion.
When we celebrated the coronation of George V I was amongst those who joined in a festive lunch in a tent on the field next to the vicarage. Later on I collected some bags of sweets from a shepherd's hut in the same field. This field was the focal point for the celebrations but I cannot remember many other details about them.
The Coronation Tent on what is now the Whiteparish Memorial Ground (check) on 26th June 1911
Another, much more trivial event, which was nevertheless a major sensation at the time when it took place, was an occasion when a large, very ancient elm tree which stood beside the stile leading into the field next to the vicarage was found to be on fire. No doubt the fire was started by children who made use of a hollow space at the base of the trunk in which to start it. This happened on Ascension Day, and a lady named Miss Bristow, who attended the 8.00 a.m. Service was so upset when she heard about the tree that she called the fire brigade from Romsey to extinguish it. I remember the event particularly well because I had never previously seen a fire engine, and the one from Romsey was, at the time a very modern one which was propelled by an internal combustion engine instead of being drawn by horses. It was installed in a field on the opposite side of the road from the elm tree. Here there was a pond from which water was pumped on to the burning tree which was quickly extinguished. This event was a major talking point in the village for some time afterwards. Photographs of the fire engine were taken from which picture post cards were made and sold in the village. For many years I had a set of these photographs, but sadly they have been lost. However, the day on which the fire engine came was made even more memorable for the children by a Sunday school outing in the grounds of Miss Bristow's house. So she was a popular figure that day.
In 1914, when the First World War started, Whiteparish, like the rest of the country, was faced with numerous stresses and problems. First there was the call up and general rush to join the army. I was old enough to understand the general enthusiasm that this engendered, but at the time the full horror of what was to follow was scarcely appreciated, especially by those who rushed to join the forces. Those who were left at home had to face many new problems. One that affected life at the vicarage was the arrival of refugees from Belgium, when that country collapsed under the impact of the German forces. It was unusual for foreigners to be seen in Whiteparish at the time and it was not easy for the local community to deal with the refugee problem. Two groups were assigned to Whiteparish. One consisted of a number of peasants from an agricultural community, whose men folk were presumably in the Belgian army. These ladies were housed on a farm near Brickworth. One of them was an extremely massive lady who, soon after their arrival, had to be provided with new clothes. Rumour had it that when she was being measured for this purpose the dressmaker found it impossible to reach round her waist, so a second person had to walk round her with a tape measure! These well meaning peasants used to catch large numbers of sparrows under sieves supported by sticks, the sparrows being attracted by a sprinkling of bread crumbs. When the sparrows had congregated beneath the sieves, strings attached to the sieves were pulled thereby causing them to fall and trap the birds. Many of the resulting corpses were brought to the vicarage at Christmas time in the expectation that we would enjoy eating them.. This practice had to be tactfully discouraged.
The second group of refugees, who all I believe belonged to one family, were installed in a cottage near Newton Corner. The husband was a diamond cutter from Antwerp, and his family belonged to a more educated group than the peasants. They could speak French and I tried, very unsuccessfully, to talk to them having just started French at school. Special newspapers were published for the refugees and it was my father's responsibility to distribute them. On at least one occasion I delivered them by bicycle.
Although he was only six years old in 1914, my brother took Lord Kitchener's call to join the army very seriously and he made up his mind that his services were urgently needed. This preyed on his mind to such an extent that he sent a letter, addressed to Lord Kitchener at the War Office asking if he could join the army forthwith. To the amazement of my parents he received the following typewritten reply, on official War Office notepaper, dated 2nd December 1914:-
'Lord Kitchener is afraid that Master Fenwick Metcalfe is not yet old enough to enter the army. Perhaps when he grows up he will be able to obtain his wish!'
The letter, addressed to Master Fenwick Metcalfe, Whiteparish Vicarage, Salisbury is still in my possession, and the envelope is stamped with Kitchener's signature. In the event he actually entered the R.N. As a Naval Cadet at Dartmouth some years later. The naval tradition was stronger in the family than that of the army.
My recollections must end here for soon afterwards we left Whiteparish and moved to a parish on the Quantock Hills in Somerset. I never knew why my father decided to leave Whiteparish at that particular juncture, and it seems very surprising that he should have done so while the First World War was at its height. He was presented with a testimonial when he left and also with a very comfortable arm chair which is still in my study to-day. After the war we visited friends at Whiteparish from time to time, so contact was not lost altogether. My own affection for the place still endures and it is to be hoped that the village will retain its traditional atmosphere for as long as possible. I should imagine, however, that there is, to-day, a risk that it will become a dormitory for surrounding towns.
On one occasion, which I remember only too clearly, the vicarage narrowly escaped serious damage by fire. This arose through my father's interest in photography. One of the main problems was that the lack of electric current made it difficult to obtain enlargements from the glass negatives on which photographs were always taken in those days. Because of this problem my father bought a photographic enlarger in which the illumination was produced by burning vaporized methylated spirit on a gas mantle. The methylated spirit vapour was very dangerously produced by heating the liquid in a special container over a methylated spirit stove. The apparatus was kept and used in my father's study, and on one occasion I was allowed in to see the enlargements being made. All went well for a time, but suddenly there was an escape of vaporized methylated spirit and in a moment the whole enlarger was on fire. However, my father very courageously picked up the blazing lantern, carried it along the landing and downstairs to the hall. Then he took it out through the front door and deposited it in the drive, where the fire eventually burned itself out.
To-day the risk of fire damage would be much less when fire extinguishers and running water are available. But at the time when this accident occurred there were no fire extinguishers at the vicarage and only rain water was available. In these circumstances, if my father had not remained calm, the whole vicarage could easily have gone up in flames. As a small boy I was quite frightened by this event. I do not think any more photographic enlargements were made while we were at Whiteparish.
[Text version 1.00 14.3.2019]
Names: Metcalfe or Metcalf, Frederic or Frances? The family photograph displayed on this page is labelled on the reverse with Charles Frances Metcalf. The Kew records show his son (Charles Russell) as Charles Metcalf. However, Charles' signature at the foot of his two letters to Roger Keeley in 1987 clearly shows Russell Metcalfe. Russell's son John also signed his letter to Roger as John Metcalfe. Finally, Russell used the spelling 'Metcalfe' throughout the account above. I have retained the "e" on this page in line with the signatures, but it is possible that the "e" was added during Charles Frederic/Frances' lifetime and that Metcalf is also correct.
Lady Ashburton was Louisa Caroline Stewart-Mackenzie, who was born on 17th November 1858 and died in February 1903, aged 75. She was the second wife of Bingham Baring, 2nd Lord Ashburton, who died in March 1864, aged 64. [From Wikipedia and other internet copies of it.]
Metcalf, Charles Russell (1904-1991), Keeper of the Jodrell Laboratory, Kew, see The National Archives. He was appointed an Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (OBE) in the Queen's Birthday Honours in 1966 (Wikipedia).
Charles Metcalf died 16th June 1991 [ref: Whiteparish, 100 years of an English village, Eric Chase, Janette and Don Munro, 2000 or so]