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Mrs M. West-Oram
I spent my early years in Arrow. My family lived in three different
houses, typical of the village. The first, where I was born, was just a cottage, two up
and two down and a scullery at the back, a cold water tap over the sink and a non-water
closet outside in the yard. But there was a gas stove and gas lighting with fragile
mantels.
Close to, almost next door, was a Smithy where I used to watch the horses being shod. On the other side of the road was the coach-building business of the Clarks; another favourite place to watch the work being done. I know exactly how an iron rim is put on an old wooden cart wheel.
One of my first memories was seeing the peace Celebrations after World War 1. The Arrow contribution was a decorated horse dray with Miss Taylor (sister of Dorothy Charques) representing Peace, with two attendants, Hazel Morgan and Elizabeth Lane. The war had not affected me much though I remember the land girls, and once a small plane landed in Ragley Park and half Alcester came up to see it.
I remember being taken for rides in the pony and trap with which my father used to get around the estate - he was Clerk of Works - and Chappy Knight, the driver, was a great friend of mine. I was sorry when my father got a motor bike. I was not allowed on.
The next house was a great improvement, with an indoor lavatory with a pull chain, and a bathroom. There was no sewerage - our contribution went to a cess pit in the garden. The house was next to Ragley Park, a lovely situation and I could slip through the gate and wander all alone apart from the herd of deer and the cattle. I wasn't afraid of them. I used to catch baby rabbits and take them home to be pets - much to my parents' embarrassment. They feared for the garden. However, the bunnies had always escaped by next morning.
I used to find sticklebacks in the stream and, of course, frogspawn. In Spring in the big lake were big fish, I think they were carp, floating dead. I think they had been fighting.
I had an even closer look at one pond when I fell in head first. My brother who was with me, pulled me out and hustled me home. He said, "If she had kept still, I could have pulled her out by the feet and her socks would not have got wet."
The park with the lovely woods full of bluebells in Spring was a most peaceful place, the sky empty of helicopters and planes. But life all over was much quieter and slower. No need to hesitate to cross the road. Indoors the quiet reigned, except when music practice went on. No t.v. and very few radios. I remember the first we had, a crystal set made by my brother and his friend, Harry Lester. We could listen to music with heavy headphones until the crystal needed tickling with the catswhisker again.
For playmates I used to walk down to Arrow Mill where I had two friends in succession, Gwen Turrel and Mary Perkins. A farmyard which was also a mill, was a fascinating place to play in - and get into mischief. We used to bathe in the river: no worry about polluted water then; Down stream we changed on the bank under the willow trees and splashed about. I also used to bathe in Ragley lake with my elders. Mr. Perkins, Mary's father, used to take us to school in his sidecar. That was the time I was trusted with a bike of my own to go to school.
For entertainment there were occasional concerts in the village school. We would cheer our mothers in W.I. plays and contemporaries playing party pieces, and also my father singing "Danny Boy" in a pleasant tenor voice.
There were cricket matches to watch in the park. My father was captain of the Alcester & Ragley Cricket Club over a number of years. For greater excursions, we walked down to Alcester railway station and took the train to Evesham, Redditch or Stratford. That usually meant going to the dentist but they were great adventures for villagers without a car. An important person in the village was the Rev. Paterson Morgan whose sermons in Arrow church brought folk walking from Alcester to hear him. Mr. and Mrs. Harding at Ragley Gardens were very nice people. They had no children but they tolerated me. I remember being taken round the walled garden and the greenhouses filled with vines and other plants. It could have been the setting for the Victorian Country Garden as featured on T V. I was sent there for the day when my brother had an emergency operation for appendicitis - on the kitchen table, I think. That is how very competent country doctors had to be in those days. I heard a tale - I may be wrong - that Mrs. Harding was lighting the range one day and looked over her shoulder and saw the Devil! Beard, whiskers, horns and all. But it turned out to be the goat from the Lodge, who had broken tether and wandered up and poked an inquisitive nose through the open door of the kitchen.
Another tale I should like verified is about the disappearance of the deer from the park. I was told Alcester Brass Band, summoned to appear at a function, assembled at the lodge gates and marched in formation up to the Hall, blasting away at 'Colonel Bogey'. The deer toke note, voted with their feet and left, their tranquil life quite shattered. Life was quite hard for women with very little money. No washing machines a copper in the corner of the scullery, a wash tub and dolly and a mangle. Many of those terms mean nothing to todays youth. What use was a slop pail? There were no ready made nappies for the baby. You made your own out of towelling and cotton and washed constantly. Then there was the business of airing in front of the fire. Vacuum cleaners were a new fangled luxury, and anyway there was no electricity in the village. Things were delivered to your door. The bread van and grocer's cart were regular events to be looked forward to. Now we come to the third house which was quite different, a modern one designed by my father, the first to be built in the village for a century, I think. Now I was busy with school work, and now comes my disgrace. I was studying for 'O' levels, or whatever they were called and in English class we read versions of Elizabethan characters. The weekend essay project was "try and do some characters in the modern world". So we did. Later, Mr. Druller, the English teacher, who also edited the school magazine, asked me if he could put my essay in the school magazine. Of course, I had no reason to say no. But he changed my title "country characters" to "Our village worthies." With my initials at the bottom, everyone knew which village.
While most was imaginary, there were some points I had based on Arrow. I was in trouble and so was Mr. Druller. Remember, I was only 16. I was taken before the local lawyer, Mr. Thomas, who quoted Shakespeare at me "who steals my purse steals trash"... my good name! I did not feel particularly to blame but my writing ambitions were severely blunted.
Soon after that, my father set up his own business as an architect in Stratford and my bonds with Arrow ended.