The edited transcript of a tape-recorded interview Danny Howell made with Winifred Brown (nee Stokes), at her home, 47 Corton, during September 1989. First published in Danny Howell’s book Remember The Wylye Valley (Danny Howell, November 1989).
Winifred Brown said:
“I was born in Corton, 82 years ago [1907]. I wasn’t born in this house, I was born in two cottages that was made into one house for my father, down opposite Sundial House. The back of the house faced the road. The front overlooked an orchard. A white horse was painted on the end of our cottage by a very old man that lived up the top of the garden. I can’t remember his name, because I was only a baby at the time. The man said to father: ‘Do you mind if I paint something on your wall?’ Father said: ‘Yes, of course I mind, what are you going to do?’ He said: ‘I want to paint a man on a horse.’ Father said: ‘Alright, but put it out of sight.’ So, this man painted this on the wall of our cottage, and it faced the man’s garden. You couldn’t see it from the road.”
“Later, the cottage was condemned and pulled down. Where Mrs. Lowndes lives now. they were having some work done there, they were doing some re-building and they asked if they could have the bricks from our old cottage, the ones with the painting of the horse on. It was moved there. My husband was out of work at the time and he helped a firm, from Salisbury I think, to rebuild those bricks and the horse into what is now Mrs. Lowndes’ place [White Horse House, Corton].”
“My father came from Somerset. His name was Stokes. He married at Corton. He worked for a lady and a gentleman who had Sundial House. They didn’t have a car, they had a pony and trap, and my father was like the chauffeur, the groom. My mother was a parlourmaid there at Sundial House; that’s how my father and mother came to meet. The lady who they worked for, said: ‘If you’re thinking of getting married, I’ll do your reception.’ So, that’s what happened. Mother, like father, was also from Somerset.”
“When the two houses made into one were condemned, because they said it wasn’t fit to live in, my father moved to here, the house I live in now. This was three cottages here originally, not like they are now, they’re two now. In the middle house there used to be a bake oven, and the neighbour, the woman who lived there, used to say to the people who lived either side of her: ‘Would you like a loaf baked?’ She used to bake bread for her neighbours. They didn’t do a bread round or nothing like that, she just baked bread for herself and her two neighbours. It was a round bake oven in the wall but it’s gone now. It’s been gone for years.”
“Father was of medium build and he was clean shaven. He was very nice but he made his children know what good manners and discipline were. I had five brothers and one sister. I was the youngest. If I sat down on the floor and kicked my legs against the floor, as a kiddy, my father would say to my mother: ‘Oh, for goodness sake pick that kid up and keep her quiet.’ My mother wouldn’t. She said: ‘No, she’ll get tired of it before I shall.’
“I went to school at Corton School. It’s the village hall now. Corton School was very nice. I started there when I was five. I used to walk between home and school with my brothers and my sister. There were over 40 children at the school. There was a teacher for the younger children and a governess for the older ones. We did reading, writing and arithmetic. Some afternoons they used to take us out on a walk along the lanes around Corton. The two teachers used to show us all the different flowers. They’d tell us about nature. We used to have some very happy times.”
“We never had a school uniform. You went in your ordinary clothes, and shoes or boots. I always had shoes. When our shoes wanted mending, mum or dad took them to a cobbler in Warminster, but they were usually repaired by my brothers if they could do it.”
“When we were children we used to have some lovely Christmas times. The village people used to go round carol singing. I used to like that. We never had a Christmas tree in the house. We’d have a few presents but nothing much.”
“I was 14 when I left school. I went to work at Salisbury, in a nursing home at Crane Street. I had to clean the wards. It was hard work, especially when you had the old matron chasing you about to see that things were done properly. She was very strict and and everything had to be just so. I lived in. Well, I had to go from here to Codford Station and catch a train up to Salisbury. I worked in the nursing home for four years. I didn’t come home every weekend, only occasionally.”
“I didn’t see much of my parents for a while. I couldn’t send any money home to them because I never earned much. I only got a couple of shillings a week and I had to work hard for it. People get a lot of money today and they’re not satisfied. Well, I’m not satisfied with my pension. No sooner you get your pension money and it’s gone. By the time you pay one bill, and another, your money is gone. It simply goes. The price of things goes up and up, you never hear of things coming down.”
“The young chap that I married worked for a farmer in Corton. The first time I saw him he was going across the road, to go into the farmyard. I happened to be coming down the road and he spoke to me. Who should come along at the time but my brother. He hurried off in front of me, to mother, to tell her that I had been talking to a boy. I copped it when I got home. Girls talking to boys was frowned upon.”
“It was only a friendly talk. He said he liked it at Corton but it was a bit quiet. I said to him: ‘Where do you come from?’ He said: ‘Weymouth.’ That’s how the conversation went. I didn’t realise at the time that this was the man I would marry. But to think that my brother went home and told my mother that, as if he couldn’t keep it to himself. Coo, didn’t I get a telling off. I was 20. My mother said: ‘Now look here, my girl. If you want to see that young man you bring him home to meet your father and me, and we’ll decide what’s best.’ I brought him home to tea to meet them. My parents got on alright with him. Things had to be done properly in those days.”
“My husband’s name was George Brown, and like I said, he was working on a farm at Corton. That was West Farm. My father had worked up there before he worked at Sundial House. My father used to make butter and cheese in what they called Dairy Cottage. You could go up there and fetch your milk.”
“There used to be a blacksmith in Corton. He had his forge opposite here. He used to shoe horses. The lanes around here used to be very busy with horses and carts, and there were lots of horses on the farms. The blacksmith’s name was Fred Carpenter. And we had an undertaker in the village. I mustn’t leave him out. The undertaker lived up Chestnut Cottage.”
“We used to go to church at the little church at the top of the village. It was very nice. They’ve sold the church and villagers have got to go to Boyton now for services. I got married at Boyton [in 1930].”
“There used to be a shop and post office in Corton. It was near here, the end one of the two cottages next to here. That’s the one just this side of where they’re building that new house by the telephone box. It’s a little cottage with all berries around it. I wouldn’t say the shop sold everything. It sold a few odds and ends. You could get your stamps and that, but for telegrams you had to go to Upton Lovell. Mrs. Withers had the shop, and Mrs. Matthews. It’s been closed for over, or about 40 years.”
“Tradesmen used to come round Corton. There was a grocer, two butchers, and a fishmonger, who used to call. So, we needn’t have went to town for anything. We didn’t have to go out of the village for anything, but you could go into Warminster if you wanted to. Now, there’s nothing here, and there’s only two buses to go to Warminster, on Thursdays and Fridays. There’s two mornings following. What woman wants to go out two mornings following when she’s got her work to do?”
“You couldn’t have had a happier village than Corton. I’m sorry to say it’s altered. How can I explain what I mean? My father used to have a garden and his neighbour used to have one. The neighbour would say: ‘Hey, Mr. Stokes, how’s they parsnips and they carrots getting on?’ Dad would say: ‘They’s alright.’ The neighbour would say: ‘If you give me two carrots or two parsnips I’ll give you some potatoes or peas, or whatever you want.’ That’s what people used to do. People would share and share alike. There were many more people living in Corton years ago, and they were more friendly people. People were more happier, more helpful and more friendly.”