First published in the Wylye Valley Life magazine, No.14, Friday 16th November 1984:
Childhood Days In Warminster 1927 – 1936
Gwen Howell (nee Ball) (1922-2019) recalled:
In 1927, I first went to St. John’s School but it was only for one week. The teacher was Miss Lyons, who lived at Holly Lodge at Boreham Road, the one with the clock above the front door. Although I was only five, I hated Miss Lyons, so I kicked her in the leg and ran all the way home to Woodcock.
After that, I went to North Row School (now Dewey House) and I loved it there. Miss Trollope was the Headmistress, and my teacher was Miss Pollard (now Mrs. Nicholls). What a difference a teacher can make with kindness!
My brother Philip and I would run out of school at 12 o’clock and go straight round to Charlie Corden’s garden (where the Long Room is now) and watch the monkey in the cage there. The cage was very high and the monkey would go and down a pole inside.
Soon after, we all moved to the Common Close School. The teachers were Miss Trollope, Miss Pollard, Miss Blackhall and Miss Hayward.
We still used to go and see the monkey; in fact we never missed a day without seeing him.
We would also go up to the fountain [the Morgan Memorial Fountain] that stood in the road by the Post Office. We’d press the little lion’s nose and put our mouths under to drink the water.
The taxis stood round near the fountain. Mr. Sloper, Mr. Cuff, and Mr. Garrett were the drivers. And Mr. and Mrs. Tanswell would be at their garage (where the Kwiksave Supermarket is now) looking out for their sons, Eric and Howard, to come home from school. They were friends of my brother.
When I arrived home in winter time, it was so cold, I used to put my hands in warm water and they used to tingle then. Mother would say to me “Do you want to go up to Mr. White’s shop at the top of Furlong, to get a one-penny fat cake?” [A lardy cake]. They were big and the best I’ve ever tasted. And for a farthing you could get a tube of coconut sweet tobacco. When Mr. and Mrs. White retired from their business they gave me a keepsake which I still have to this day.
I used to have to wear button-up boots, a lace apron and a handkerchief pinned on it with a big safety-pin. I hated those boots but I had to wear them because I didn’t have any others. My father [Harry Ball] would cobble our shoes with bits and pieces from little Miss Francis’ shop in George Street. It only cost a few pennies for a few nails and a bit of leather but father only earned fifteen shillings a week.
On the way to school my brother and I always used to meet Mr. Raymond, the bank manager [ Bank, lived at Glencoe, Boreham Road] and he would give us a few coppers eachday for sweets but we used to go to Mr. Stainer’s cake shop in East Street (where the [Hong Kong House] Chinese restaurant is now) for two-penny’ worth of stale cakes and we used to get a bag full but they were better then than they are today.
On the afternoons, coming home from school, we would see Mr. Garratt, who lived at Oxford Terrace, coming home from work at the railway station. He always saved us a piece of homemade cake out of his lunch-box.
Monday was market day in Warminster and I used to go and see the fowls and animals in the pens at Fairfield Road. Mr. Dart and Mr. Waddington were the auctioneers.
Oh, the fun I used to have with the Baverstock children, Hilda and Frances, hitting our iron hoops with sticks and playing ‘whip and top’ down Market Road (now Fairfield Road). We hardly ever saw cars going down there. The cows were driven loose through the town. Those were the days and we played hitting a ball with a stick along the water in the ditch inside the iron railings at Market Road [Fairfield Road].
In the light evenings , myself and the other children would go over the market and go inside the auctioneer’s stand and ring his bell and run away. There was only one police house in Station Road and these were the days of Superintendent Barratt.
Another naughty thing we used to do, was to go apple scrumping up Mr. Artindale’s. He owned East House which was where the Garage, East End Avenue and the Ridgeway now stands. There was a high wall all up the side of [the top part] East Street, with double, black doors in it and we used to go through. The gardener’s wife used to chase us out but not before we’d picked up the apples!
Sometimes, my friends and I would watch the farrier, Mr. Alec Fitz, shoeing the horses. We would stand near the anvil for a warm in the little tin shed at Furlong. That little shed is still standing there today.
In 1932, I went to the Avenue School. The Headmaster was Mr. Dewey and the teachers were Miss Gardner, Miss McNaughton, Miss Hodge, Mrs. Watkins, Mr. Davis and Mr. Silcox. We used to move to different classrooms for every lesson.
Whenever it was a sewing lesson I used to sit in the back row, talking, and the teacher would make me take my chair into the playground and stand on it. Here, I would wave to the engine driver [the railway ran behind the school], the only one I can remember passing through the Station. This made all the class laugh. I have to thank my mother for teaching me to knit, sew and crochet. She taught me all I know.
My favourite teachers were Miss Trollope, Miss Pollard, Mrs. Watkins and Mr. Leslie Davis.
Freddie Bartholomew used to live at Portway, by the corner of the Avenue School field. When he was about four years old he used to say recitations. He was ever so good. One instance I can remember was at an evening’s entertainment at St. John’s Parish Hall. Also there, Gloria Sloper was a little dancer, and Vera Shepherd and I played a duet on the piano. Alas, Freddie was the only one of us who got to Hollywood!
At Christmas time, my friends and I would go carol singing at the big houses along the Boreham Road. One thing we used to do was to go to the Reverend Dixon’s house (Prestbury House, which is now Warminster Conservative Club) several nights running. One night he said “Haven’t I seen you before?” So I quickly gave him a false name. I told him I was Jacqueline Simmonson! Everybody fell about laughing, it was so funny. He said “Here you are, here’s a few coppers and don’t come back again.”
The town was full of characters and everybody knew each other. If a stranger came to town he was spotted straight away.
There are three people that stand out in my memory. Squire Temple, he lived at Bishopstrow and he rode a ‘sit up and beg’ bicycle. Bunny Wyatt had a shop in Silver Street, opposite AshWalk and he would go through town with his pony and trap. He had a great big white moustache and he dealt in vegetables and old clothes. Old Edwin Wickham lived at Oxford Terrace and he walked with his feet pointing outwards and all us children nicknamed him ‘Charle Chaplin’.
I tell my grandchildren now lots of stories about the old days. They listen and ask for more. The names I have mentioned here, I hope will be remembered by some of you because, to me, they were some of the nicest people I ever knew.