to open - Mellis eNews

In memory of Dorothy Dye who passed peacefully away
11 March 2015, aged 101 years.
First published in 1992 ‘Dot on the Green’ has been
reproduced with the kind permission of Sandra and Barry.
Mellis eNews.
June 2015
2
Early Days
I was born, Dorothy Walton, on 27th May 1913 at a house on the common
now called Mead Cottage. In those days my family called it Cold Water
Hall because it was so very cold living there. Later I moved with my
mother, father and brother to a cottage in Drury Lane.
When the First World War broke out my dad was called up into the army.
He had to go to France and like many young men, he never came back he was killed in the trenches at the age of 24 years. My mother was left a
young widow with two small children to bring up. Drury Lane wasn't a very
nice place to live. There were no pathways to the six or seven houses
there and in winter the lane was under water all the time. It was
impossible to push a pram down it. My mother was very fortunate in
having a young girl living with her for company. She was about fifteen
years old and helped to look after my brother and I. Her name was
Elizabeth Aggas. She was the daughter of John Aggas of Mellis, the
coffin-maker, who lived opposite the church and was church clerk for
many years. When it was winter time, Elizabeth used to lift us children out
of the pram, clamber on to the footpath in the field alongside the lane, and
walk us home, whilst mother pushed the pram through the mud.
One thing that stands out in my mind is the pond where we had to fetch
our water. It was a dangerous job as there were slippery steps to go
down. The water was horrible - covered in weed and frogspawn. Every
drop of it had to be boiled and then strained. We had to wash our clothes
in it and even bath in it in the tin bath every Friday night.
Near to Mellis Lodge in Drury Lane there was a caravan lived in by Tim
and Nellie Hall. Nellie was a real Romany. If you ever went down the lane
to call on them, she would answer the door smoking a clay pipe. She was
a little, thin woman with unruly hair which she always kept covered in a
headscarf. Tim was a very kind man. He would always stop for a chat if
ever he saw me in the garden. He and his wife would go around all the
houses in Mellis selling linen pegs which they made on a special machine.
Another character I remember from those days was Surrey Brown the
roadman who lived right at the bottom of Drury Lane. He kept goats and
there was always one that used to chase us when we were nutting or
blackberrying down there. Surrey's daughter was a very keen churchgoer
and took the role of organ blower. She always wore a long black coat,
black boots, a round black hat and steel-rimmed glasses.
3
I was a nervous little girl and when a plane came down in Drury Lane
during the First World War, I was absolutely terrified. I was glad when we
moved out into one of the cottages attached to The Laurels. The Laurels
was owned by a family called Cross who had one small son called Teddy.
He was a little bit backward and they relied on me to watch over him and
take him to school. Many a time he fell into the groups (ditches) on either
side of the Carnser path and had to be taken home for a change of
clothes. This didn't go down very well with the headmistress.
Father and Mother in the first war
At this time I became friendly with a girl called Dorothy Stammers who
lived in a cottage at the end of Sunnyside. (The house was thatched and
caught fire in 1926 when a spark from a train fell on the roof). Mr
Stammers used to keep pigs: the sty was on a meadow between his
house and the Laurels. I remember very well the pig-killing sessions which
took place in his yard. The pig-killer was Arthur Bennett who lived near the
railway crossing. We children looked forward to this event very much. The
pig was taken out of the sty into the yard and then put on a long slatted
table before its throat was cut. Next it was plunged into a barrel of boiling
water so that all the bristles could be scraped off. After that it was cut up.
When they came to the bladder they would throw it up in the air and all the
4
children would scramble to get it. You could blow it up like a balloon. As I
was a friend of Dorothy's I was allowed back to the house to watch all the
parts of the pig hung up in the outhouse. During the week I would be
given some of the crispy scraps that were prepared by Mrs Stammers.
They were very tasty.
My brother's close mate was a boy named Alfred Cooper. He was a plump
little chap and his nickname was "Butcher". Unfortunately he lost his
mother during the birth of her last child. My mother was sorry for Alfred
and his sister Joan and did all she could to help Mr Cooper with feeding
and bathing them. They lived at Walnut Tree Cottage near the old windmill
that used to be up on the Common. The mill wasn't working then but an
old man called Frank Howard used it to keep his chickens in. One day this
old man found he had a hen come home to him with a little brood of
chickens. He couldn't afford to keep them so he gave them to Alfred who
reared them until they were a nice size and then sold them for 7/6 each on
the market at Diss. He also used to work for Adam Mann who kept pigs at
the top of Cowpasture Lane in Thornham. One time he gave Alfred the
pippin, which was the name given to the runt of the litter. I think it cost him
a shilling. Alfred made a run for his pig with wire netting and a little house
for it to sleep in. All went well for a while until one day his Dad called up
the stairs to him, "Your pig is gone, boy!" Alfred flew down the stairs to
look, but lo and behold, the pig had disappeared. He was very upset of
course. They never found it but thought it might have got in to the pond at
the back of Walnut Tree Cottage and been drowned and eaten up by the
pike that lived there.
About this time our great grandparents farmed Glebe Farm. Their name
was Peake and they often employed stone-pickers on the land. My mother
was one of them - and back-breaking work it was too.
5
Hearth and Home
When we were young mother used to cook wonderful dinners for us. I
particularly remember pea soup and dumplings in the winter. Another
favourite was bubble and squeak made with leftover potatoes and
cabbage fried up in the pan. For a second course at dinner we sometimes
had roly poly pudding; this was a suet pudding made with jam and tied up
in a cloth and boiled. Sometimes we had spotted dick made in a similar
way with currants. For tea we often had a boiled egg with bread and butter
soldiers. My brother liked the yolk and I liked the white so he generally ate
his first and passed it over to me! When it was the right season, another
teatime treat was sprats.
In those days food could be scarce and one way of getting a good dinner
was to have a rabbit pie. I've seen my mother skin many a rabbit. Some
women wouldn't do that job and took them to the butcher who would skin
and hulk them for 6d. Sometimes mother would skin pigeons and serve
them for dinner with plenty of vegetables.
Of course we had no electricity in those days. Everything revolved around
the kitchen fire. Trivets stood around the hearth to stand saucepans and
kettles on, and there were others you could hook on to the bars of the
fireplace. We always had to have a thick fabric kettle-holder hanging
nearby because the pan handles got so hot. We used bellows to draw the
fire when it got very low. For baking we had a brick oven.
Ironing was done on the table with flatirons that were heated on the fire.
You had to have two so that one could be getting hot while the other was
used. All this made ironing a very drawn-out affair. Around the
mantlepiece we always draped a "mantle" which was an ornamental cloth
held in place with brass studs. It was about six inches deep with heavy
fringing - very colourful to look at but dreadful for collecting dust.
Nearly every family made up faggots for firewood. The menfolk would go
out to the hedgerows and cut long pieces of wood and bundle them up
into a faggot. These would stand outside on the Common until they were
needed. Then they were chopped up and put on the fire. I've seen my
mother chop many a faggot as she had no husband to do the job for her.
Inside the house there were no such things as carpets. We had lino which
had to be washed with a cloth called a dwile. In the front room we had odd
mats here and there but in the kitchen we had a brick floor covered in
coconut matting. This was horrible - when you picked it up off the floor
6
there would be inches of dirt underneath. We made rag rugs from sacking
and old garments cut up into strips. The pattern was marked on the
sacking first and the design made by pushing the rags through with a
special hooked peg. Some of these rugs were very pretty and outlasted all
the bought ones. Stone water bottles were used at night to keep you cosy
in bed. We wrapped them in a piece of old blanket but you had to be
careful not to stub your toe on the stopper.
We had quite a long journey to the toilet at the bottom of the back garden.
It was joined to the wash-house. We had a candle-lantern to see our way
down there in the dark and on windy nights it would sometimes blow out.
Once inside there was a big seat for mother and a little seat for us
children. Always there was a candlestick with some matches, ready for
lighting, not forgetting the little square pieces of newspaper hanging on a
nail - no such things as toilet rolls in those days. Sometimes we used the
tissue paper that oranges came wrapped in!
When we lived at Sunnyside, there was a toilet vault for the seven houses
along our row. It would go several months before it was cleaned out. Bill
Garnham used to take turns doing this. He was the brother of Mr Soames
who kept the Bungalow Stores and was a great friend of the family - I
suppose that was why he helped out with the problem! It was all done in
the dark of course. Bill used a long handle with a scoop on the end and
had a hurricane lamp standing nearby on a broken chair. He would scoop
out the sewage into pails and carry it to a large hole he had dug during the
day on waste ground at the back of the Post Office. It didn't do to leave
your windows open that night!
We used the outside toilet for years and nobody minded it except for my
cousin Jean's husband, Eric. Whenever they came to stay for the
weekend, Eric would hop into his car and go off to Diss to make himself
comfortable. With a fag in his mouth and a newspaper under his arm he
would say, "I'm now off for a session!"
There were water pumps all over Mellis to supply us with drinking water.
One stood in the Poplars orchard to supply the three cottages there,
another stood opposite the Laurels. There was one in the Railway Tavern
yard and another by the entrance to the village shop. There was also a
well at the top of the Carnser path near the church and the school.
Everyone on that side of the Common would get their water from the well it was icy cold. People at the top of the Common had to fetch theirs in a
galvanised cart with handles on the side. For some it was a long way to
fetch water. When our pump was dry, mother and I used to carry a bath
7
and a pail each and walk to the pump at Mellis Tavern. We had to have
several rests, especially if we had to take water to my grandmother's at
Poplar Cottage when her pump dried up. But the well on Mellis Common
never dried up, not even in1926 when there was a drought and water was
rationed.
8
Mellis School
My days at Mellis School were happy ones. I started at five and stayed
until I was fifteen. For a time our headmistress was Mrs Peart who lived at
the end of Sunnyside Row. On the whole she was very good at looking
after us. I remember her coming round the class with a spoonful of
sulphur when we had sore throats. She was very interested in music and
often got up nice concerts for us - she always chose Bertie Gooderham
and myself for the solo singing. She trained us as a choir and took us to
Bury St Edmunds Assembly House where we won the banner.
I remember an occasion when one of Mrs Peart's children caught scarlet
fever and she did not stay at home to look after him. We were scandalised
that she should be spreading germs around the rest of the children so
Vera Turrell and I took all the pupils to the top of the Common during
morning playtime and hid in the gorse bushes with all the rabbits scuttling
about. We kept a watch on the school and saw a police car arrive and
"Nitty Nora" who looked for lice in the children's hair. We got very
Mellis School 1918
frightened when we saw a car coming up the road. It contained Mrs Clark,
the school manager. I can still hear her saying "What the hanover is the
matter with you two girls!" We took the children back to school and of
course we were in great trouble. We both had the cane across our hands
and had to stay in at playtime for a week. I suppose we should have
9
known better, but we didn't think it fair that the teacher should risk
spreading scarlet fever around the class.
At one time we had a very strict headmaster; His name was Mr Ellwood.
I've seen him put boys across his desk and give them six strokes of the
cane. The parents often used to complain. Spencer Wilby from the Falcon
was caned so much that he couldn't sit down. There were a lot of children
for such a small school and discipline was very harsh. Mrs Smith, another
teacher, would hit us across the hand with a ruler if we were naughty.
Some of the boys were very mischievous. One of their favourite tricks was
to go behind the school lavatories and lift up the wooden trapdoors at the
back and sting the girls' bottoms with nettles. One boy, Bertie Gooderham,
went one better than that - he caught Miss Rampling, the teacher!
In summer, my friends and I often bought bottles of ginger beer to drink at
playtime. We would save our bottles and fill them with water from the well
in the afternoon. We would unwind the bucket and let it go to the bottom
and then wind it up again. It was a very hard job. When the old bucket
was full of water, it would hit the sides of the well. It took two or three of us
girls to wind it to the top and sometimes there was hardly enough water
left in the bucket to fill our bottles.
There used to be a very large stone between the school and the
churchyard - it has worn so small now that you can hardly see it. One of
our games was to see how many children could balance on it without
falling off. It brings back happy memories when I see it on my way to
church.
In those days you stayed at the village school unless you got a
scholarship to Eye Grammar School. I remember very well sitting the
exam. Six of us had to go to Gislingham for it. We were taken in Mr
Drage's tub cart pulled by a horse. Mr Drage was the village postmaster.
None of us passed the exam that day - it was very hard. But we did go to
Eye Grammar School on Mondays for cookery and laundry classes. We
travelled on the little train that went between Mellis and Eye two or three
times a day.
10
Button Boots and Bloomers
When we were at school, us girls all wore white pinafores. Our mothers
starched them until they were quite stiff. And I remember wearing black
socks and button boots that had to be done up with a button-hook.
Another thing we wore were gaiters - these also had to be done up with a
button hook. All the girls wore wide ribbons in their hair and it was quite a
competition to see who had the best bow. Sometimes we carried a
"Dorothy bag". This was a bag with a draw-string top made to match your
best dress. The whole outfit was matched up with socks and buttoned
boots. But since I was a plump little girl, my legs would bulge over the top
of my boots.
In the winter we always had to wear combinations to keep warm. They
were thick with long legs and an opening at the back. They had pieces
inserted at the front for when our bosoms gradually filled out. Mother
would never let me leave them off until the month of May was out. She
used to say "Shed not a clout till May be out". Another thing we wore was
a liberty bodice. I wore one of these until I started to wear a bra - and as I
was a big girl I soon had to get into one of those!
I nearly forgot to mention my knickers.
They had long legs and were called
bloomers. There was a little pocket for
a handkerchief - or anything else we
might like to hide. They were mostly in
pastel shades and were worn for best.
For school we had similar ones in
navy blue. I remember my
Grandmother Porcher making me a
special pair of knickers for parties.
They were white calico with broderie
anglaise around each leg. When I was
dressed to go to a party she would
come along and pull my knickers
down a bit so that the pretty part was
showing. You always had to show a
bit of your knickers! But in every other
respect we were taught to be very
modest. My mother always insisted
that even when I went to bed I had to
put my nightdress on before I took my
underclothes off. Mothers were
11
Me in everyday wear
always like that in those days and liked to teach their children that their
bodies were private. I was never put into the bath with my brother.
In holiday times I used to help my mother do the washing on a Monday. I
didn't like it very much but I couldn't get out of it. In those days washday
lasted until dark on winter days. I think we had about six baths standing
around for different rinses. The powder we used was called Rinso. We
also had a bag of Reckett's blue to make the whites even whiter. There
was an old scrubbing board for the shirts and a huge old mangle with
wooden rollers. I had to push the sheets and blankets through the mangle
while my mother turned the handle. We hung all the washing on the
Common. It was quite a way to carry the washing from the wash-house
and the basket was very heavy. It took some time to put the linen line up
and fix the props - and of course we had to be careful of the cows and
horses that were turned on to the Common on the 16th of May every year.
Trouble really started when the cows grazed on our side of the station.
Once I remember looking towards the Common and seeing a cow kicking
its legs up in the air trying to get rid of a sheet caught up in its horns. We
ran out to chase it but the damage was done - the sheet was ripped to
shreds. There was a young man called Repp Wilby who lived at the
Falcon pub whose job it was to round up all the cattle in the late afternoon
and get them over to the other side of the station. He was called the
Pinner. But often when his job was finished, the cattle would wander back
again, and down the road as far as Yaxley. Car drivers were furious when
they met them on the road. Mellis was not always the cleanest place to
walk in the summer months - you were always walking in cowpats.
While the cattle were grazing on the Common, gates were put up to stop
them straying into other parishes. There was one at the far end of Mellis,
almost into Gislingham. Another was hung on the Burgate road; it had a
little hut for the gate-keeper to sit in and was known as Ted's Gate. There
was also a gate on Primes Road which stopped the cattle getting into
Thornham. One gate was hung near the Glebe Farm and this was the one
that I used to keep. By this I mean that I would open and shut the gate for
farmers going to Diss market on Fridays. Some of them travelled in cars
and some in horses and carts. When we children opened the gates they
would drop pennies in the road. We would squabble over who would keep
the gates, especially this one. I remember very well when I was
recovering from measles, I was the only child keeping the gate so I got all
the money - I felt very rich. It was not until the 11th of October that the
cattle were taken off the Common for another year.
12
Common Games
We played all sorts of games on the Common. When the evenings were
pulling out, we would be allowed to spin our tops on the road. We painted
them in bright colours and it was more or less a competition to see whose
was the prettiest. We also had iron hoops which we could bowl along with
a skimmer. Then there were skipping ropes and of course marbles. We
took these along to school according to the season. Girls used to play with
their dolls until they were twelve or thirteen years old and we often had a
game of mothers and fathers. Reggie Bennett was one of the boys who
would agree to act as a "father".
After the games—tea. Dorothy Stammers is on the right.
Sometimes my friend and I would stand near the station with a book and
pencil and write down the numbers of all the cars that went by. At the end
of the day we might only have six numbers which shows how things have
changed. At other times we might make a pair of "stilts" from a couple of
old treacle tins with string attached through holes in the side. We were
never at a loss for games.
One game I particularly remember was called "a pin for a peep". My friend
and her sister would put together a box full of odds and ends and they
13
would call their friends and ask them if they would like a quick peep in the
box. The charge for this was a pin and when they got home they would
give all the pins to their mother who used them in her sewing. People who
were poor in those days couldn't afford to have things made for their
children so pins were always useful at home.
The game of five stones was very popular with us kids. The stones were
pretty and shiny, not very big. You put them on the back of your right hand
and threw them up, turned over your hand and caught them. Then you
would lay them on the floor and pick them up one at a time. You had to
have a very good memory for the games which went like this:
onesers, twosers, threesers, foursers, fivesers, box me, creeps, cracks,
no cracks, puzzles, feed the corn, pick the middle, lay an egg, drop an
egg, jump the Devil over the bridge, drive the cows to water.
Every now and again the boys would get a craze for making popguns from
pieces of elder. They would cut an elder stick from the tree and scoop out
the soft pith to make it hollow. Then they would get a piece of ash or elm
and shape it like a small pump with a handle to push through the middle.
But before they inserted it in the elder tube they spat on the end and
pressed it on a table to make the end fray out like a brush. For
ammunition they used acorns or pieces of chewed up newspaper. The
gun made a nice loud pop when you pushed the handle in. Even I had to
have one of these.
When there was a freeze we went ice-skating on the ponds around Mellis.
The best one was outside Cyril Abbott's house (now called New
Cottages). It was a big pond and held a lot of skaters. Sometimes we
would stand lanterns around the edge and skate in the dark. It looked
really pretty. I wasn't very old at this stage and I spent more time on my
bottom than on my feet! We had an old gramophone with a horn which we
played as we skated.
I went to school with a boy called Reggie Broad who was very nicelooking - all the girls from our class were after him. He was a "home" boy
who was brought up by Mrs. Ruffles from the Glebe. She was very strict
with him and had a very loud whistle that she would blow when she
wanted him to come home. I remember once watching a cricket match on
the Common in front of the Blacksmith's house when Reggie Broad was
chasing a Mellis girl. As I sat there they knocked me over and I landed on
a dog which promptly bit my arm. My mother had to rush me to the
Doctors to have a tetanus injection and I've been afraid of dogs ever
since.
14
Nuts `n May
My mind goes back to the time when we were children and liked walking
across the Common in summer time picking all kinds of grasses. It was
amazing what we could find to do with them. There were the dandelions
which had finished flowering and had a white head of feathery seed. We
called them "one o' clocks". As we blew on the stalks, the seed would
blow away one or two at a time. We would say one o'clock for the first one
and two o'clock and so on until the seed had all blown away. Then of
course we would know what the time was! Another thing we did as we
blew them was to say, she loves me, she loves me not, until we knew the
answer.
We used to pull up rushes from the end of the swamp three at a time, knot
them together at the top and hold them between our teeth and braid them.
We got so good at this that we would end up making little baskets. There
was another rush which was much thicker. These we would split open so
that we could scrape out the pith with our fingers. It looked like yellow
cotton wool and we used to make flowers out of it.
Another kind of grass was known as "cock and hen". There were a lot of
red seeds growing up the stems, If you pushed these seeds upwards with
your finger and thumb, you sometimes got round bunch at the top which
was called a hen. If the stem broke half way up you would finish up with a
tail sticking up like a cockerel. Sometimes we picked plantains and twisted
the stem round the knob-like seed head and pulled it tight. Then the top
would fire like a pop gun.
One thing I liked picking was a nice bunch of maiden hair fern which I
would take home and put in a vase. These had hundreds of little brown
hearts growing up the stalk and they were so light they would shake about
when they were in a vase. There was also a plant called "parson in the
pulpit" which looked just like a man with a tall green leaf at the back. "Clog
wheat" was a kind of pale green grass with a top like wheat. If you picked
the tops of these and put them under your cuff and worked your arm up
and down, you would find that the grass had crept up to the top of your
arm. One thing we often looked for was four-leafed clover since it was
meant to be lucky, but it's very rare and I never found any. Dock leaves
were very common and they were useful for relieving nettle stings.
In the early mornings when we were children we would go out on the
Common and look for mushrooms. If ever we found any and they were
small we would cover them up with grass so that no one else should find
15
them. Lots of people would be out looking as Mellis Common and the
meadows around were famous for them. You had to be careful in case
you picked toadstools by mistake. Proper mushrooms would peel very
easily and looked nice and white.
In Spring, near the glebe, the children used to love picking purple orchids
or "cuckoo flowers" as we called them. They also grew by the side of the
little Eye railway line. Cowslips were plentiful and another flower we called
"milkmaids". There was a kissing stile between the Poplars and Glebe
Farm where we often liked to sit and chat. From there you could walk
through to Green Lane and come back along the Thrandeston Road. We
loved that walk as there were lots of wild strawberries by the sides of the
road - some of them were quite big. In the fruit season we often went
down to Yaxley to pick medlars from the trees that grew by the road near
Yaxley Cherry Tree. The medlars were dark brown in colour and quite soft
to handle. We used to make them into medlar jelly. When cowslips were
in bloom we picked them to make cowslip wine - it was lovely to drink. My
favourite walk was through Cowpasture Lane to Lockwood's House at
Thornham. We often went blackberrying and nutting there. I used to take
my blackberries to our village shop, called Marsh and Co then, and sell
them for tuppence a pound. It was a lot of money in those days.
One day when it was warm, my husband and I were sitting in the back
garden and he reminded me of when we made daisy chains at school. We
used to pick the daisies, make a slit in the stalk and push another daisy
through and so on until we had a chain. We made long ones as
necklaces, shorter ones to go round our heads and very small ones as
bracelets. We also picked hips and haws in the autumn and made strings
of beads out of those.
16
Village Folk
During harvest time it was the youngsters' job to take dinner to the
farmworkers out in the fields. I still remember what was in the baskets we
carried - pork and onion puddings, all hot and steaming, and potatoes in a
piece of muslin. The baskets were covered in a nice white teacloth. If we
were lucky we might get a bite to eat. At four o'clock we would take a big
bottle of hot tea. This was called "fourses". At dinner time the men drank
beer. When harvest was over and the wheat and barley gathered in, we
children would take our sacks and go gleaning for our chickens. Mother
didn't keep chickens, but grandfather did - he had hen coops hidden away
in the bushes across to the glebe. We loved to collect the eggs and get
them ready for Mr. Cobbin the egg collector who came from Thornham in
his horse and cart.
In a house near the chapel lived a man called Tommy Lambert who was
employed by the Council to catch sparrows. There was such a shortage of
corn during the war that wasting it on sparrows was a sin. Mr. Lambert
would pay you a ha'penny for a sparrow. Catching them was done by
The house where I was born
propping up a sieve with a stick, tying a piece of string to it and sprinkling
a little corn underneath. Then, when the sparrows came to get the corn,
you would pull the string and catch the sparrows under the sieve. It took a
bit of patience. There was also a bounty on rats tails. The Sanitary
Inspector objected to all the dead rats that laid in farm sheds. You got a
ha'penny for one of them.
17
One well-known character around Mellis was Jimmy Dean, nicknamed
Jimmy Crow, who regularly walked from Thornham with a basket of
bloaters. He sold them for a penny ha'penny each and shrimps for
tuppence a pint. Bloaters were cooked on a grid over an open fire where
they sizzled and smelt delicious. Dicky Bird was another character from
Eye who was well-known in the village. He had an old pram and used to
go to Diss market to buy up junk. Sometimes he would have something
quite decent to sell. He always wore a black bowler hat. He also used to
walk around delivering the Diss Express from his pram. It was nearly
always teatime before you got your paper - or maybe it came just as you
were having your Friday night bath!
Jimmy Brooks was the chimneysweep who walked from Eye pushing a
handcart with his brushes in. He charged a shilling a chimney. I once
heard that he knocked the biggest chimney off at Savill's Mill. He was a
tiny, bandy-legged man and always as black as the ace of spades from
the soot. Everyone had Jimmy Brooks to clean their chimneys even
though he was not the cleanest of sweeps.
Sometimes a pedlar from Mendlesham called from door to door. He
carried a wooden box slung from his shoulders on a black strap. There
was a tray at the top containing reels of cotton, skeins of darning wool,
needles and so on. When this tray was lifted off, underneath would be
pretty little aprons, teacloths and dusters. Another traveller was Mr.
Hasted from Palgrave who used to visit Mellis with a horse and cart selling
paraffin oil. He also had a barrel of vinegar with a tap on it. We went out
with our vinegar bottles and filled them up. He would tease my mother and
say to her, "Come on, give us a kiss!" She would say, "Go on your way
you old varman" - quite a common saying in those days.
There were three cobblers in the village. Mr. Alderton rented a hut in the
Falcon yard where he would toe and heel your shoes and put hobnails in
them. There was also Mr. Doughty who lived in Primes Road and Mr.
Mouser who lived along Turkey Row. Mr. Mouser was a little man with a
long white beard who always wore a hard black bowler hat. He was
famous for being the father of 21 children twice!
A missionary preacher known as Uncle Ted sometimes parked his
caravan outside the church gates and held services there. He wore plus
fours and a black wide-brimmed hat. He always got large congregations
who enjoyed letting their hair down in the hymn-singing. We all became
very friendly with him and would take turns to invite him home for a meal.
18
Out and About
Years ago cars were a rarity and we would get about on our bikes. My first
bicycle was called a Drayton. I had it when I was twelve and it lasted
many years. In those days we thought nothing of cycling to the Picture
House in Diss. Sometimes we got soaked to the skin but it didn't bother us
then. We also used to cycle miles to dances, which were known as
"sixpenny hops". I remember coming home from Wetheringsett with
several of my friends one evening when the roads were like glass from the
frost and snow. When we got as far as Stoke White Horse we came into
collision with each other and over we went, acetylene lamps on fire, our
bikes all twisted. I was black and blue all over but I dared not tell my
mother since she had told me not to go out because the roads were
dangerous. I went to work next day but I could hardly sit on the seat of my
bike - I had to stand on the pedals most of the way.
One way of getting about was to use the little Eye railway train. This
consisted of two ancient Great Western Railway coaches pulled by a little
engine on a single track. It went backwards and forwards to Eye several
times a day, stopping at Yaxley Halt. It would always be standing in the
siding waiting for all the mainline trains to pull in. In those days the
fireman was Len Wilding and the driver, Bill Wayman. There was a goods
train as well as a passenger train. The fare to Eye was 3d return and if
you went to Diss it would set you back 5d. But the town was such a long
walk from Diss Station that we mostly preferred to cycle.
I loved going to dances in my early years. The young men in those days
were very polite - when they had finished dancing with you they would
always take you back to your seat before walking back to their own. I've
heard my aunt talk about the dances that were held at Pulham Aerodrome
when she worked there during the First World War. All the girls had cards
and their partners would book dances with them for the whole evening by
signing their cards. The men wore white gloves so as not to dirty the girl's
dresses and the girls carried fans to cool themselves when it got too hot!
My friends and I often went to dances in the Town Hall at Eye, but on the
way home we sometimes met Sam Root and the sewage cart! This would
go around Eye at night cleaning the toilets. There would be old Sam Root
sitting on the cart eating his bread and cheese and Mr Chambers would
be leading the horse. Lanterns hung around the cart for of course they
worked in the dark. When they had finished they took the cart up to the
Moors to be emptied. It wasn't very nice, I can tell you. You needed your
lavender bags then!
19
Shops and Trades
Thomas Whitmore, the Relieving Officer and Registrar of births and
deaths, lived at The Towers adjoining the Railway Tavern. Several of the
family lived at the same address. Mother Whitmore, an elderly lady, would
sit at the table in her Victorian chair, making beautiful lace_ It was called
tatting. She gave most of it to the church for trimming altar cloths. I used
to get her the balls of cotton she needed. She had a daughter called
Florence who ran a kind of sweet shop in her front room, supplied by a
"traveller" in sweets from Yaxley. All his sweets were in boxes which
Florence kept on her large dining room table. She had a beautiful pair of
brass scales_ Unfortunately she was robbed left, right and centre by the
big boys of Mellis who would go in there on a Sunday to buy sweets. One
would ask for a quarter of sweets and while she was weighing them out,
another would hold down the scales so as to get half a pound. She would
get very angry if she found out and would chase them out of the shop with
a stick and threaten them with the police. The shop next door was owned
by an uncle of hers whose name was Simpson. He made his own
sausages. Sometimes I helped put the sausage meat into the skins - they
were beautiful sausages. We called him "Tell You What" after a phrase he
always used.
Marsh’s Shop, Mellis
20
The Bungalow Stores was built by Mr Wright and Mr Sutton. The latter
married Elsie Howard, the village blacksmith's daughter.
Those two ran the shop for some years before selling it to Mr and Mrs Joe
Browne. People by the name of Mr and Mrs Soames bought it off them
and then Mr and Mrs Flowers took it over. Finally it came to Mr and Mrs
Alfred Browne. They had a fire when a chip pan caught alight and caused
considerable amount of damage. After that it was no longer run as a shop
for groceries, but was bought by Mr Kerridge as a welding workshop.
Marshes was the other village shop. It sold most of the things we needed.
I particularly remember the big blocks of salt we used to buy. The grocer
would saw off a slice for 2d and crush it with a rolling pin. And sugar was
never sealed up in bags as it is today - it was weighed out in the shop and
put into a funnel of dark blue sugar paper. A young man called Simpson
from Yaxley used to be employed at Marshes. We called him Luggs.
Together, the family that owned the shop and Mr Simpson were known as
"Missie and Ma, Luggs and Pa".
Before we had milk delivered in milk bottles, we had Mr and Mrs Goodliff
come round from door to door with milk in a churn. We always had our
jugs ready for them to ladle into. We felt sorry for them in the terrible
winter weather. Often they would get wet to the skin but they were always
obliging. To earn myself some money, I sometimes used to fetch milk in
cans from Rodwell's Farm and deliver it to people in Turkey Row (now
called Church Row). For doing this I earned about sixpence a week.
Some of it I saved up for the Sunday School outing and some I spent at
Nunn's shop - perhaps on a farthing gobstopper.
Nunn's was the baker's shop by the church. Before that it was owned by
the Burrows family. They had twin girls called Gladys and Blanche and a
younger daughter called Annie. Mr Burrows went round with a horse and
cart selling bread and cakes and hot cross buns at Easter. He also used
to sell penny monsters - large bottles of lemonade. Eventually Nunn's took
over the shop and also sold bread. Walter Abbot was their roundsman. I
loved going into the shop on my way to school - the smell of the bread
and cakes made you feel so hungry. Once when Mrs Kerry's oven went
wrong, they let her do her baking in the shop oven. I believe they often
helped people like this and many took their own bread to be baked there.
The Wilby's took over the Falcon pub in 1905. (It ceased being a pub in
1926 and is now called Falcon House.) Beer was tuppence a pint and
Woodbines five a penny. Ginger beer was sold in bottles with a marble in
21
the top and cost us a penny ha'penny a bottle. On Saturday evenings
during the summer the village men would play quoits on the Common next
to the Lion Hotel. They played on a pitch made of clay and threw quoits
with a feather in them. Mellis men would play men from other villages and
we children would stand and watch the matches.
At the beginning of the century the big corn mill by the railway was owned
by Mr Robinson who lived in The Poplars. He owned all three houses
there (one of which I lived in for many years) and kept stables with several
horses in. He ran out of money, so I understand, and could not finish the
smallest house which was built in 1893. Mr Robinson died in 1909 and the
mill was bought by Major Savill who had just retired from the army.
There was a huge fire at Savill's corn mill one morning in 1933. We were
woken very early to find the whole Common lit up by the blaze. The
building was made of wood and plaster. My brother worked there at the
time and he immediately ran to the office to help get the ledgers out. He
also helped to rescue the old Whitmores who lived at the Tower nearby. It
was a great shock to them. The mill was later rebuilt with galvanised steel.
It was camouflaged during the war since any buildings alongside railways
were targets for German Bombers. Even the church was sandbagged.
The lodge belonged to the well-known Flatman family who had a fine
apple tree orchard. The best apple they had was called Doctor Harvey. I
went there each year for some of these lovely apples. Old lady Flatman
would say to me "if you help me to fill my wheelbarrow, Dorothy, I'll give
you some." So that's what I would do. I can see her now standing there in
her little leather apron. When the wheelbarrow was full, the apples would
be packed in hampers and taken up to Mellis Station to be sent to the
Norfolk Hotel in South Kensington.
22
High Days and Holidays
The most important woman in my life was my mother. She was a Mellis
woman and was respected by all who knew her. Almost every child in
Mellis called her Nanna Walton and she took many a child under her wing.
Her cottage was always open to the young folk and we would all gather
together on special days such as Easter. On Good Friday afternoon we
would walk down Green Lane to pick primroses and violets and palm.
When we got back home again there would be a lovely tea ready for us all
- always newly baked cakes and home-made bread and jam. After tea my
mother would help us all to bunch up the flowers that we had picked. We
each had a long stick to tie these bunches from the bottom to the top.
These we would carry around the church on Easter Sunday. Every Easter
Monday there was a men's walking race between Norwich and Ipswich.
My friends and I would walk to Yaxley to see them pass. We always wore
our new Easter bonnets. Jack Mole from Scole always won the race.
Christmas was another special time. On Christmas Eve mother would get
us to bed early and we would hang one of her black stockings on the end
of our bed. In the morning there would be an orange and an apple in the
toe of each of them and always a white mesh stocking with small toys in it
- a few nuts, a small bag of dolly mixture, a sugar or jelly mouse and a
chocolate watch in gold paper. When we came downstairs there would be
a small doll for me and a little car for my brother and perhaps a card game
each and that was our lot. It was as much as mother could afford. I
remember one Christmas when the First World War was on we were each
given a wartime doll by Auntie Vi's boyfriend who worked at Pulham
Aerodrome with her. My doll was dressed as a nurse in a blue uniform
and my brother had a tommy soldier with a khaki peaked cap and dressed
in blue with a red tie. I wish I had them now.
We used to go carol singing around the whole of Mellis. It took us three
nights and we used to carry the little organ that we used for our
pantomimes. The money was divided between a charity and our church.
People used to ask us in for drinks and hot mince pies. It was very nasty
walking around the farms in all that mud. Sometimes we have known
children getting stuck and losing their wellies. We liked calling at the pubs
in Mellis - people there were always very generous and liked to join in with
the carols. We always had to carry our hurricane lamps as Mellis was
always such a dark place in the winter months and you never knew when
you were approaching a swamp. There would be the odd one or two
people who wouldn't answer the door, but you could see them peeping
behind the curtains.
23
Every summer for years Bert Stock's fair used to pitch on the Common
outside the Tavern. There were swingboats, coconut shies and the old
steam roundabouts with galloping horses. It usually came to Mellis after it
had been to the Eye Flower Show in August. We all looked forward to this
very much and the pubs did a roaring trade for a week. In later years
when my mother lived at Sunnyside, my son Barry used to help them set
up and when the week was over, to pack again. He only earned a few
shillings but he had lots of free rides. I shall always remember the fair
because that's where I met my husband. He lived in Ipswich at the time
but worked as a wheelwright in Mellis and lodged with Mr and Mrs Cliff
Whiting of New Cottages, Mellis. He had
just broken off his engagement with his
girlfriend and I had just finished with the
boy I had been going out with. We met on
the steam horses and finished up man and
wife after six years of courtship.
Me with my mother and brother
A lot of our courting was done on the stiles
around Mellis. We always called them
"Kissing stiles" as they were favourite
places for courtship with the boys and girls
of the village. Some of them were hidden
by hedge growths and you were always
secluded. I think I can still remember where
they all were. I remember when I was in my
teens when I had one certain boyfriend, we
were followed everywhere by the young
boys of Mellis. They would even get up into
the trees to pester us, especially in Joyce's
Lane.
One regular event that we all looked forward to was the arrival of the
barrel organ man and his monkey who used to play outside the Railway
Tavern. When he turned the handle, some beautiful hurdy gurdy music
came from that little organ. I sometimes turned the handle whilst he went
round with the hat to get a few pence off the people who were standing
around. I also remember an old Romany caravan with a domed canvas
roof that regularly pitched on the Common between our house and the
Glebe farm. My son Barry and his pal Robert Arbon used to roast
potatoes on their brazier outside the caravan. I can see those two boys
now hiding up in the bushes playing cowboys and indians. One day as
they were playing, Robert fell into a bed of nettles and my mother had to
take his trousers down and cover him with vinegar from top to toe.
24
Something he will never forget!
About August every year the children of Mellis would start to make
bonfires for November the 5th. We made old carts out of pram wheels
nailed onto a wooden frame and pulled by thick string. We went from door
to door asking for rubbish, old mattresses, tyres, anything. The bonfire
was built on the Common opposite our house and nearly every child in the
village came. They started buying fireworks as soon as they appeared in
the shops. The boys always bought bangers and rockets, the girls
preferred pretty ones such as catherine wheels, snowstorms and
sparklers. I will always remember the jumping jacks. On one occasion my
Aunt had one jump up her skirt and burn her leg. My husband used to
make a lovely guy to sit on top of the fire. It was always sad to see him
topple over when the flames reached him. We sometimes baked potatoes
around the fire or roasted chestnuts. The fire was always enormous and
would still be smouldering the next day. My son always got up early and
went out searching for spent fireworks and these were carefully put in a
box and treasured until next year came round.
For home entertainment we had an old wireless. Every so often we had to
cycle to Diss to get the accumulators charged. But later Mr Brame from
Diss would collect them from the door and bring them back recharged. If
ever he missed a week we would get very cross because we would miss
our favourite programmes. It was quite a while before we got our own
television and our children sometimes used to walk up the road to the
Youngmans to watch the Perry Como Show. It was looked upon as a
great treat for them.
When I was young I loved visiting my friend Ruby's house because her
mother had a pianola. It was like a piano only you played it with your feet.
There were piano rolls with lots of small perforations on them and these
would be played automatically when you pressed your feet on the pedals.
I was crazy about this thing - the music was lovely. Every time I went to
the house I would ask Mrs Holmes to play. She would say "Just let me go
and feed my animals and then I'll play you a tune." I could have listened to
it for hours.
Before the war my brother taught evening classes in art at one of the Diss
schools. Seven of us would cycle there from Mellis to be his pupils. I was
never any good at art but I made the number up. My brother used to say
to me "You're hopeless!" and the only time I had any help from him was
when there was an inspector coming round. I shall always remember the
day when he was called up into the Army. My mother was in tears as she
25
said goodbye to him at Mellis Station. She had been through it before
when she said goodbye to my Dad in the same place - and he never
came back. Luckily my brother returned six years later as a Major and we
were all very proud of him. Later he became an artist and taught art at
Oakham School. He did a lot of restoration work for the royal family and
twice he showed the Queen around his school.
It was a very sad time in my life when my dear brother died suddenly in
1987. He had just spent a long weekend with me in Mellis. He enjoyed
that weekend very much going around all the houses in Mellis where we
used to live as children. I am proud to be the owner of some lovely
paintings which he did for me. I shall treasure them for the rest of my life
and when the time comes they will be shared between my two children.
26
Ailment and Remedies
My Grandmother Porcher was never very well. Three young men in her
family were killed within a month of the First World War and she never
really got over it. She deteriorated very quickly and her eyes troubled her
a lot. My aunt would soak a man's handkerchief in cold tea and bandage
her eyes with it. She would sit blindfolded all day long, having the
handkerchief changed every so often. Poor Grandmother also had
bronchial chest and my aunt used to make linseed poultices to put on her.
She would buy some linseed, soak it in boiling water to make a paste and
put it between two pieces of cotton, mostly old sheets torn up, and lay it
on her chest. This would bring great relief.
There were some funny remedies years ago, but some of them were very
effective and I still use them today. I remember that if we ever got a
splinter in our fingers, mother gave us a piece of bread to chew until it got
soft. Then she would put it on to the bad finger and bandage it with a
piece of rag. It always did the trick. Lo and behold, the splinter always laid
in the chewed bread the next morning. If we ever had lung trouble we
were given a remedy called Scott's Emulsion. It was horrible and tasted
fishy. Grasshopper ointment (price 2/6d) was applied to wounds and for
gout or rheumatism there was Eade's Pills. For the treatment of colds we
used pieces of camphor; these were shaped like polo mints with a hole in
the middle and we would thread them on string and wear them around our
necks until our colds were gone. Mother would watch that we never went
out without a piece of camphor. If we had an earache we would have a
small roasted onion in our ears!
Once mother skinned and cooked a mouse for my Auntie Vi when she
had whooping cough. This was supposed to be a good cure and Auntie Vi
always used to tell me how nice it was. I couldn't fancy that cure - I think I
would rather have had whooping cough. I escaped having this complaint
when I was a child so I didn't have to have a mouse. They were usually
fried and I am told they tasted just like chicken.
Every Friday night my brother and I were forced to take a spoonful of
syrup of figs to keep our bowels open. We hated it. Mother used to call it
Grunfers Wine to make it sound more palatable. In hot weather I suffered
a lot with my feet and mother would put cabbage leaves in my shoes to
cool them down. They worked well but had to be changed frequently.
Grunfer was the name we gave Grandfather Porcher when we were very
small. He was a wonderful man and we loved him dearly. Every Sunday
27
us children and Dorothy Stammers would go to Poplar Cottage and he
would put a penny for each of us in a piggy bank with our names on. He
would keep them for a whole year and then we would have a Sunday
counting them up for our Sunday School outing. Grunfer worked on the
railway all his life, first at Bury and then as a ganger on the Mellis to Eye
railway. He was a very active man and never late for work. When my aunt
and I were a little late setting off for our jobs in Eye, he would say "If you
don't be setting off soon, you'll meet the others coming back!" He would
get our bikes out, pump up the tyres and tie our macs to the handlebars,
getting them ready for the road so we just had to push off. He never had a
day's illness in his life but sadly, when he got old his mind began to
wander. He would go out at strange times, often in the direction of the
house he was born in. People were very kind to him. We had a scare one
night when he went missing and we found his old trilby hat floating on a
farm moat. But he had been taken in by a very kind woman and given a
meal of bread and cheese. Grandfather died at the age of 84. He was a
good, kind and honest man. We all loved him.
Grandfather Porcher
28
Trips and Outings
My friend Ruby Holmes lived at Manor Farm in Mellis and she often used
to come and play with Dorothy Stammers and me. But they were both a
little older than me and would sometimes go off on their bikes and leave
me alone - I didn't have a bike then. The old saying "two's company,
three's a crowd" is quite true, as much now as then. But I have been a
lifelong friend of Ruby's and she has always been there when I needed
her. I remember when I broke up with my first boyfriend she came to my
rescue and took me off for a fortnight's holiday in Brighton to cheer me up.
We had a marvellous time! At the guest house there were several
Brighton football players staying which made it much more fun. We spent
out and only had a shilling each to get back to London where we were met
by Ruby's sister-in-law. (she gave us a little more money to get back to
Mellis.) Whilst we were in Brighton we used to hire a beach hut every day
and after a day or two we became great friends with the hut attendant.
After that we didn't have to pay for the hut or the deckchairs. He knew we
were short of money and was very kind to us - he even gave us pennies
to go to the loo! I don't think you would dare trust a man like that today. It's
a different world we live in. One of the footballers brought us sandwiches
and chocolate to eat on our journey home and saw us off on the train. He
was a very nice lad.
Mellis Junction
29
One Sunday years ago I went on an excursion to London (5/- return) with
my friends Stella, Basil and Bill. The thing I most remember was getting
stuck in a lift! The boys went off and left us for a while and Stella and I
decided to try using the lift. The door opened and in I went but Stella
wasn't quick enough and the doors closed. I was petrified. The lift didn't
move and I kept pressing the buttons until it suddenly went up. I nearly
died of fright. I'd made it go up alright but then it wouldn't go down! I finally
got back to Stella and made the doors open and there she was waiting for
me, shaking from head to foot.
I had a similar experience when my brother and I went to Notting Hill Gate
to visit Aunt Lily who was working in London at the time. She thought she
would take us on the tube since neither of us had travelled on the
underground before. We didn't know we had to be quick to get on. My
aunt told us to follow her smartly before the doors closed and left two
frightened little country bumpkins standing on the platform. We watched
her disappear into a big black tunnel and thought we would never see her
again. But a lady came up and told us not to worry - our aunt would be
sure to catch the next train back. She was right - a very worried aunt flew
out of the carriage and rushed across to take us in her arms. We were
very young and my, how pleased we were to see her.
30
Singing and Dancing
I was christened in Mellis church and I sang in the church choir for forty
years. It was a big choir with men, women and children. In order to raise
money for the organ blower and the electric light, we also put on
pantomimes at Christmas. All the children of Mellis were very keen to take
part in these and we always had a cast of over twenty. The producer was
Margaret Newstead and the rehearsals took place in our house, Poplar
Lodge, where my husband and I have been living ever since we married.
Our final rehearsals took place in the Memorial Hall.
We always had lots of supporters and we toured the production around
the surrounding villages, raising money for charity. In Mellis, people could
book their seats at Savill's office where two of our star players, Basil
Browne and Bill Cornelius, worked. Bill was very clever at putting words to
music and he had a little organ which folded up like a suitcase. He took it
everywhere he went. Basil was a brilliant comedian, and if ever he lost his
lines no-one would ever know - something would come into his head to
cover it up. He once fell off the stage while he was acting in Mellis
Memorial Hall and my husband had to fetch his cart to bring him home.
We called the doctor who told him he had broken a bone in his knee. Basil
always took a female part in the show and was wearing ladies knickers
made of union jacks at the time! He worried more about what the doctor
would think about his clothes than he did about his injured knee. He had
to go into hospital where he stayed for three weeks. Stella Burridge
replaced him in the pantomime. She was a good sport and always took a
funny part.
Stella Burridge has been a livelong friend. She was a very handy person
to have in the village. She would often help out as a midwife and would
also lay people out. Once when she was delivering her daughter's child, a
Mellis man came knocking at her door to ask her to attend his wife who
was in labour. She quickly made her daughter comfortable and off she
went to the other lady. Doctor Bailey from Eye always said she would
make an excellent midwife, she was so good at it. Stella's mother, I
remember, used to keep a bath of water in her back garden especially for
drowning kittens! When people had an overflow of kittens they would take
them to Kerry's and she would pop them in a sack and drown them in the
bath. For this job she would receive a small payment.
Incidentally, I still love singing and in 1984 when Billy Graham came over
from America for "Mission England", my friend Joy Hawthorn and I joined
the choir. We had to go each week for practices until such time as we
31
were ready to take part in the large choir which was formed on Ipswich
Football Ground. All the choirs from miles around joined up in that one big
choir. It was a great experience and one which I enjoyed immensely.
Stella Burridge and myself dressed for Pantomime
32
The Drapers Shop
When I first left school I worked in Eye at a first class drapers shop. Three
ladies ran the shop - Mrs Rowling and her two daughters. I was taken on
as an apprentice and later became an improver. I had a very stiff training.
At first I wasn't allowed to serve a customer at all. I remember very well
the time I served my first yard of elastic. I had to measure it and put a pin
in it and then the bosses had to check it to see if my measurement was
right. It was very embarrassing in front of all the customers. I earned five
shillings a week.
Later I worked for Harold Warnes the solicitors next door to the drapers.
When I started I just had to sort out the papers and books. I must have
done it well because they asked me to stay on. I didn't think I would like it
but I said I'd have a go and I started book keeping evening classes in
Diss. I also took shorthand and typewriting classes at a private school in
Eye run by Miss Winterton and Miss Bull. After about five years of this
work, I longed to go back to shop work and as there was a vacancy at G
H Nunn and Co of Eye, I decided to apply for a job. Luckily I got it and I
stayed there for thirty seven years until nearly all the Nunn family had
died.
It was an all-round drapers catering for everybody. It sold haberdashery,
lino, carpets, hats, material and menswear. I even had my wedding dress
made there. It was run by the Nunn family and employed dressmakers,
milliners, tailors and a tailoress. There was also a cook and two maids
called Joan Norman and Lucy Frost. It was drudgery for the little maids in
those days, because the living quarters were upstairs and every lump of
coal had to be taken up the iron backstairs. The cutlery had to be cleaned
in an outhouse with some horrible brown powder and a piece of rag and
the iron stairs had to be scrubbed regularly. We worked by gaslight when I
first went to the shop but it wasn't long before we switched over to
electricity and then we opened part of the shop to sell electrical equipment
and lightbulbs. Soon we were made agents to the electricity company to
receive money for quarterly bills from people in the surrounding villages,
to save them running to Diss to pay their bills.
It was very cold at Nunn's shop in winter. The only means of heating was
a couple of old paraffin stoves. When there were no customers about we
would stand over them with our skirts held up to warm our legs. There
was a small coal fire in an adjoining room which we had to clean out in the
morning and tend during the day. But woe betide us if we put too many
lumps of coal on - the boss would come along and take them off and then
33
we would have a miserable fire all day. "Waste not, want not" was his
motto. When the railway man came in with his parcels, we weren't allowed
to cut the string - we had to untie every knot and wind it round our fingers
and put it in the string box. When we weren't busy with customers, out
came the old string box and the bundles had to be unwound and done up
again. We were forever tidying up. All the drawers had to be tidy with
everything laid out in rows. We even had a cubby hole for brown wrapping
paper - it would never do to waste any brown paper from parcels. Another
thing we had to do was to ask the customers to give us the "odd" money
so as to save the boss's change. This became such a habit that even
today I ask shop assistants if they would like it.
On Saturday mornings we had to clean all the windows of the shop. If you
have ever seen Commerce House, which is opposite Eye Town Hall, you
will realise that this was quite a task. We did it with a bucket of cold water
and a washleather and took it in turn to be the one that stood on the
bottom of the ladder. Even in winter time we did this job - frostbitten
hands, chilblains and all.
There were so many of us working in the shop that we had to go upstairs
in turn for a midday meal. And of course the shop never closed for lunch.
The family went up first together with my aunt who worked there. When
they had eaten, a bell would ring and then we would go up. There was a
bedroom were we could rest on wet days. It had iron bedsteads and
marble wash hand stands - nothing very smart. I remember very well one
occasion when we sat on chairs eating monkey nuts, looking out on the
Town Hall. As we ate the nuts we threw the shells out of the window. But
when I returned downstairs the boss was waiting for me with a dustpan
and brush and I had to go outside and sweep up the shells on the
pavement. But he wasn't a bad boss and on the whole they were happy
days.
Every year at harvest time we had a Grand Sale. All the farmers used to
come and spend their bonus money. Men's shirts went for 1/11d or 2/6d,
neckties were 6d and ladies clothes went very cheaply - dresses at 5/11d
and coats at 10/6d. We girls had to work very hard during the sale. Half
the stock was hung up outside on iron hoops and there was a pole
containing men's straw hats at a shilling each. Sometimes on Saturday
nights during the sale, we'd hear the Town Hall clock strike ten before we
were ready to cycle home to Mellis. Before the sale began, Mrs Nunn
would sort through the stock and mark it with a price. At the bottom of
each ticket she would write, very small, the amount we shop assistants
would get as a bonus if we sold the article. If it was an easy sale we might
34
only get a farthing. If it was something hard to sell we could get as much
as threepence. Some of the items we marked "God help us!" which was
our special code for something hopelessly difficult. We kept all the tickets
of things we sold in empty Sylko boxes and strung them together in
bunches adding up to a shilling. At the end of the three weeks sale I
sometimes got about two pounds in bonus money. I felt very rich then.
I only ever got one tip and that was when I was working on the men's
outfitting side. I had to measure men for suits and one man was so
pleased with the fit of his new suit that he gave me sixpence. I met him
not so long ago in Diss and he told me the suit was still going strong!
One of the customers we supplied clothes to was the Kerrison School at
Thorndon. The master, Mr Settles would bring the lads in for whatever
they needed when they first arrived. Some of them were trained for the
land and needed farm clothes - boots, braces, breeches and collarless
shirts. They were also supplied with a nice sized suitcase and a
"housewife" which was a small box containing needles, pins, tapes,
cottons, bootlaces and a collar stud.
When we were getting short of shirts made from old Horrocks striped
shirting material for the boys at Kerrison School, Mr Nunn, our boss,
would spend all day cutting them out from old brown paper patterns. This
event always took place in the afternoons and was done on the outfitting
counter. There was silence all during the procedure except for a little
swearword or two from the boss when he had cut them wrong, perhaps
two right sleeves instead of a right and a left. We used to be glad when a
customer came in so we could talk. There were also the dark blue blinds
to be made. A girl named Peggy Gower from Thornham used to machine
these up. When it came to fasten them onto the poles we would have one
or two more harsh words from the boss when he hit his thumb with the
hammer. His favourite expression was "Cow it!" Then perhaps the spring
wouldn't work and the blinds would refuse to roll up properly - all this
prolonged the blind episode. Whenever Peggy saw Mr Nunn approaching
the blind cupboard she knew what was in store for her. But the blind
cupboard was just a wall away from Mr Cullyer's grocery shop and when
we girls used to have to tidy it out we amused ourselves by knocking on
the wall to the boys that worked next door.
On one occasion during the war we had a bad scare. It was on September
11th 1940 when a German bomber flew over the town, machine-gunning
as it went. It dropped a bomb near the wool shop on the corner of the
street and it bounced through the roof of the carriers van from Ipswich
35
which was parked outside our shop. We were inside, lying on the floor
when we heard this bomb go through one of the windows above the shop.
It landed between the bed and the chest of drawers. We had a
commercial traveller in at the time who had trained as an ARP warden. He
flew outside, put his tin hat on and went upstairs to investigate - rather a
silly thing to do. He came down very quickly and told us all to get out. He
sent us over to the Chemist's on the other side of the street. As it
happened, it was alright as the Royal Engineers were soon on the spot
and discovered that it was a dud bomb - a five hundred and twelve one!
They took it away and detonated it. We were all suffering from shock and
had to be sent home. The incident was reported in the papers the next
day.
During the war., my aunt and I often had to get off our bicycles when the
sirens went during our ride home from work. We would throw our bicycles
down and lie flat on the ground as the bombers passed over Eye
Aerodrome. Very nerve-racking it was at times. We were not allowed to
have very bright lights on our cycles so it was a job to see where we were
going at times. It was the same at home - everyone had to have dark
blinds and if you showed any light when the ARP wardens came round,
you were in trouble. My husband was an ARP warden and had to do his
rounds. He was exempted from other service since his work in Mr
Howard's blacksmith's and wheelwright's shop was classed as essential
agricultural work.
Nunns at Eye
36
The War
I heard the news of war being declared as I was sitting in the school choir
at Mellis. Dr Simpson the rector, gave it out in the service. My brother and
his girlfriend, Kit Long from Diss, had left to take my cousin back to
Epping and received the news from my aunt when they arrived. They had
to travel back to Mellis with very dim lights. One of the first things we did
was to build an air raid shelter on the Common. All the people along
Sunnyside got their spades and helped to build it. We lined the walls with
lino and carved seats out of the earth. In one of the corners we built a
pantry where we stored tinned milk and biscuits. We had a parrafin stove
and a small tin kettle. When the siren went we used a hurricane lamp to
guide us into the shelter. There wasn't a lot of room but we managed
alright until the All Clear sounded.
There was a fire watchers hut opposite the village hall where the air raid
wardens used to sit. I was married by this time and my husband was a
warden. Powerful searchlights were put up on land near the Yaxley Bull
and we were able to pick out enemy planes in the night sky. I was called
up into the services like everyone else but since I was pregnant by then I
was exempted and joined the Red Cross instead. We were trained by Mrs
Clarke from Orion House in Mellis and had to go to the Lion Hotel
opposite the Tavern twice a week to learn how to treat casualties.
Early in the war a train load of children arrived at Mellis Station from
London. They were evacuees. Each carried a pillowslip with their
belongings in, plus a gas mask and an identity tag. They were taken to the
village hall and handed over to village families. Every household with a
spare bedroom had to take in an evacuee. My mother had a little girl
called Pat Latimore. When various families had chosen who they wanted,
the rest were taken by coachloads to Eye Town Hall - about one thousand
and twenty of them!
We had a neighbour at the end of our row called Bloss White. He lived
alone and when the siren went for an air raid he would always come into
our house as he was nervous being alone. He was rather a rough, bluntspeaking man and he would sit in our kitchen with his cap on. When the
planes went over he would shout "Here come the buggers - they killed my
brother!" All the time this was happening our little evacuee had been
brought down fast asleep and laid on the bed we made up for her under
the kitchen table. Sometimes she would sleep through it all and didn't
wake up till the morning when she would be back in her own little bed.
37
Right at the beginning of the war, train loads of Americans started arriving
in Eye to build the Aerodrome ready for the bomber squadrons. Eye was
full of Americans. They used to go to Nat Hawes's cycle shop in
Thornham to buy their bicycles to get around the various village pubs.
They couldn't ride bikes properly and wobbled all over the road. When
they passed our house on their way home from Mellis Tavern they would
be very merry and riding their bicycles even worse. And they would
always be making a lot of noise. They had no difficulty in getting girlfriends
around here. There were dances held in every village hall and of course
they had a dance on the base every Saturday night. My cousin Jean got
quite friendly with one of the Americans when she came to stay in Mellis.
She lived in Epping, but came regularly to stay with my two aunts who
lived next door to me. We often entertained Americans at our house and
sometimes they would come early in the morning before breakfast - they
even came to have a shave. I have often been chased by them running at
me with a shaving brush and have had lather all over my face!
One of mother's evacuees was friendly with an American as well. She
came down from London most weekends so that she and Jean could go
to dances on the Base. I would sit up and wait for them to come home.
The boys would come back with their pockets bulging with nuts and
candy. Jean's American boyfriend was like one of the family. His name
was Arthur Sellers although his nickname was Red since he had red hair.
He was 22 years old when the war ended and he had to go back to
America. He was very upset at leaving us although of course he was
pleased that the war was over and that he could see his family again. For
a while he wrote quite frequently but when his letters stopped we didn't
know if he was alive or dead. We wrote but got no answer. Then one
morning - all of 33 years later - my husband brought me a cup of tea in
bed and said "Who do you think has written to us - our American Friend
Red." Our son Barry got on the phone to him in America and later he
came to England with his wife Mary. There were 15 of the family to meet
him for a reunion at the Orwell Hotel in Felixstowe. You can imagine how
much we enjoyed it. We were so pleased to see him after all that time and
we are still writing to him regularly.
38
Married Life
I was married in Mellis Church on August 9th 1941. Basil Browne from
Yaxley was our best man. My husband's brother should have taken the
role but was in the Airforce and his leave was cancelled at the last minute.
Basil was very pleased to fit in but was very nervous although I must say
he made an excellent job of it. Unfortunately the day after the wedding
Basil had to go abroad and was later captured by the Japanese. I sent
him photos of the wedding but they never reached him and we didn't see
him for four and a half years. When he did return I went to Mellis Station
with his dad to meet him and I'll never forget how bad he looked. I felt very
sorry for his parents as their eldest son Teddy never came back. He was
killed in service in North Africa. By a strange quirk of fate, my brother saw
his grave in Cairo. You can imagine how he felt when he saw the name
and number of Teddy Browne on the gravestone. They had worked
together in the office at Savill's. He took a photo of the grave and sent it
home to Teddy's parents. They were very grateful but they never got over
their sad loss.
Owing to the war we didn't have a honeymoon. As they used to say then "Is your journey really necessary?" All our food was rationed and
everything we bought was "utility". I hadn't been married for more than
three weeks when I had to go to hospital for a small operation. Each
morning at eleven o'clock we had training sessions in putting on our gas
masks. We had to sit up in bed and see how quickly we could put them on
in case there was an air raid. It wasn't a very nice sight, I can tell you, with
all the patients sitting up in bed wearing those hideous things on their
heads. We weren't allowed to go anywhere without them - they were
carried in little brown cardboard boxes with straps which we slung over
our shoulders.
My first baby was born in 1943. We had a nice shiny "utility" pram, black
with a cream lining but it had no springs and on the country lanes it didn't
last long. Nothing did, but we managed. The baby had a special gas mask
to lay in but when he got older he had a "Mickey Mouse" mask which
wasn't quite so frightening. My second child was born in 1947.
Both my children were born at home Poplar Lodge. In those days if you
had a big house and someone to look after you, you always stayed at
home. My mother looked after me very well.
She had to light the fire in the wash house at the bottom of the garden and
fill the old copper with water. We had a small fireplace in the bedroom with
39
Married in Mellis Church, 1941
40
a fireguard where all the babies clothes hung airing. Dr Shackleton Bailey
was my doctor and Nurse Cook was in attendance. She was an excellent
maternity nurse and attended me for both my confinements. Every drop of
water had to be carried upstairs and the same applied to the coal and
wood for the fire. When I was up and about again, it was the proper thing
to go and be "churched" before you ever went anywhere else. I went both
times. It was a simple little service with just myself and the Rector - a
service of thanks for the safe arrival of the baby.
My children, Sandra and Barry
At that time we were often awakened very early in the morning by the
sound of bombers taking off from Eye Aerodrome. Sometimes we thought
they would never get over our house. Occasionally on sunny afternoons
my husband and I would walk out with the baby in his pram and wait for
the planes to come back from Germany after an air raid. We would count
them in and sometimes know how many were missing if we had counted
them on their way out. I was a Sunday school teacher during the war
years and, coming home one Sunday afternoon, a German plane came
41
over the station and I had to throw the children and myself down in the
ditch until the plane had stopped machine-gunning.
Towards the end of the war, doodlebugs were a great scare. They
sounded like motorbikes in the sky. One day I was standing by the
window with the baby in my arms when I heard one coming over - the
noise was terrific. I knew that as long as you could hear it you were safe
but on this occasion it suddenly went silent and I knew it was coming
down. I dived into the cupboard under the stairs with the baby and the
next minute there was an almighty bang. Glass flew everywhere as the
windows caught the blast. But the doodlebug just missed the village but
landed in a field at Thornham.
42
After the War
Both my children were brought up in Mellis and went to the local school
until it closed. They never gave us any trouble in their childhood years and
as my husband and I got older they have been a great comfort to us. One
thing I particularly remember is Coronation Day in 1952. For the grownups there was a wonderful gala night at Savill's corn mill when we all
dressed up in red, white and blue. We often had dances in the mill and
people came from miles around but we could only hold them at certain
times of the year because of the corn that had to be stored there.
I always liked to keep busy and when I finished working at Nunn's shop I
worked for an electronics firm at Park Road in Diss. On my first day I
discovered that two other ladies from Mellis were also working there and
mostly we used to cycle there together. But sometimes when it was windy
we took our bikes to the station and paid a shilling for ourselves and our
bikes to be taken home. This was in 1966. We had a very nice social club
at work which arranged parties and dances and seaside outings once a
year. These outings were great fun, especially the amusements. Our
bosses would stand there doling out money for the rides - we could have
as many as we liked. I was very fond of the scenic railway. But if ever I
was missing, they would always know where to find me - they only had to
look behind the curtains of the fortune-tellers. I just loved having my hand
read ...... and I can say that many of the things I have been told have
come true! After 15 years of working for this firm it was finally time for me
to retire. I had a wonderful send-off with lots of flowers and cards and
good memories to look back on.
Since then my great hobby has been collecting pictures of bygone Mellis.
I've got a wonderful collection and I'm always getting phone calls from
people asking to see them. My pictures give me the greatest pleasure and
take me back over the years to the good old days.
A few years ago I fell and broke my leg. I was on my way to a parochial
church council meeting and in my hurry I tripped over the linen prop in the
back garden and found myself unable to move. The ambulance men
came and took me to Heath Road Hospital in Ipswich where I stayed for
three weeks. I now have three pins in my leg. Whilst I was there I met up
with Olive Wilby who used to live at the Falcon in Mellis. She became a
policewoman when she left home and I hadn't seen her since. Imagine my
surprise when she turned up in the bed next to me after all those years. Of
course we didn't recognise each other straightaway and it wasn't till we
got into conversation that we found out we used to play together as
43
children. We have now ripened up a very nice friendship and she has
helped me a lot with my memories for this book. She has also supplied
me with some very old pictures of Mellis for my lovely collection.
One thing I very much enjoyed before I broke my leg was the Churches
Cycle Ride that takes place every September. Irene Kent and I did it for
two years and managed to visit 30 churches. It was very hot the first year
and thunder flies stuck to us like glue. Drinks were provided in most of the
churches but we had to restrain ourselves since only the chapels had
toilets! The next year it poured with rain all day and Irene got a puncture.
She had to keep pumping up the tyre until we limped into the cycle shop
in Diss where it was mended. By the time we had visited the eight
churches in Diss we were soaked to the skin and water was squeezing
out of our shoes and we still had a cycle ride back to Mellis. But despite it
all I still love cycling. My "old girl" is still standing in the shed. Sometimes I
think I'll sell it but then I think, who knows, I might try it again one day!
I see that I have come to the end of my book. I sincerely hope that the
people who read it will enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. If
anybody had told me when I was young that I would write a book I would
not have believed them. But it is surprising what joy it has given me
reminiscing about the past in this wonderful village of ours where I was
born "Dot on the Common", over seventy years ago.
44
Thanks
Thanks to Mrs. August, Mrs. Hilton, Mr. Spence and many others for their
help in taking me about. Thanks also to all the old friends who have
reminded me of stories and good old times in Mellis. And lastly a big thank
you to Margaret Newstead for her help with this book.
Dorothy Dye, 1992.
45