Peoples Stories - Bevendean History Project
Eileen Ridge memories of Bevendean part 2
Mr Allcorn was the farmer when the war came. He had to plough up the
top of the hills which was just Downland to us with hair bells and all
sorts of wild flowers they all disappeared. Mr Allcorn was a very small
one-man farmer, he had Mr Baldwin to look after the horses and there
were 2 more men that lived in the cottages. I went in Mr
Allcorn’s house that was lovely you had a nice staircase with a
red carpet. Oh yes Mr Allcorn was a great friend. When Mr Allcorn had
to get out Mr West of Upper Bevendean farm with all his tractors took
over. They sold the cows; they marched round in a ring. I had to go
home because I was crying; the cows that I fed all those years, I knew
them all by name. I was 11 when the war started so I must have been
about 12 at the time.
Our house had 2 big bedrooms and one tiny bedroom, which was Jean’s and mine, it was over the front door. Granny had the front bedroom with the fire and Mum and Dad had the back bedroom. When we moved to Bevendean we had a proper bath. It was bitterly cold in winter that’s what I remember about it. You couldn’t see out of the windows when the frost was there, you had to breathe on it and rub it with your finger to see out. There were bay windows lovely in the summer but not sensible in the winter. Mum wished we’d had a Council house because the windows were smaller and I think the Council houses were warmer but they wouldn’t give us one. The Council wouldn’t give us a Council house until our furniture was out on the street, they were moving the people from the slums to Whitehawk at the time and so I suppose they needed all the Council houses and they were encouraging people to move into the area. They gave Council houses to people working at the Danish bacon company, it was totally unfair.
Granny was 94 when she died, my sister was 23 when she died and dad was 54 when he died. They all died within 3 years of each other. That just left Mum and me until I married Peter. It was terrible for my Mum; I never left her, that’s why stayed there 70 years. I don’t think my mother ever got over Jean dying. Granny’s role in the home was to cook the dinner, and mum did the housework. We were very poor we had to pay the mortgage we didn’t have any new clothes, they were all passed on, everybody passed on clothes. We all had jobs to do at home. My father was the Ovingdean village postman from 1919 when he came out of hospital after the war until he died in 1944. It was the quiet round for him, they never took the shrapnel out of his head. Sometimes he brought home cardboard which we had to make into shapes for our shoes because the shoes had holes in them. If it was wet of course you couldn’t wear the shoes you had to wear wellies which had lots of names in them before yours. Then you had to take these funny old plimsolls to school to change into from your wellies, but everybody was the same, everybody was poor it didn’t matter.
We had a back garden, the top part was vegetables and the bottom part was lawn and grass, but that had to be dug up during the war to grow vegetables. We saved all the newspapers they were thrown into a bath with rainwater and thoroughly soaked. Dad would dig a trench and the newspapers went in the trench and so did all the cuttings and vegetable peelings from the compost and that was the trench for the runner beans. Each year he moved that trench down so that all the top part was wonderful good. We never kept any chickens, Mr Wiggins had chickens. A lot of people used to keep rabbits during the war to kill them and eat them but we didn’t do that. We grew a few flowers in the front bit of the garden.
In the winter mother had to get the washing out by 10:30 and in by 1:30 because the sun went down over what was the sanatorium and if you left your washing out it either got frozen stiff or got wet again. The sanatorium is now a housing estate, the Jews cemetery is up there that’s where the sun went down. It was hard for the women, very hard for the women trying to bring up their children. I think everybody was extremely poor a lot of people used to walk to the trams that turned round where the barracks were, then it was a penny. Whereas if you got on a bus that turned round by the 5 barred gate where the nursing home Heather Lodge is now that was two and a half pence down the town. So people used to walk to the trams because it was only a penny down the town.
Summertime was lovely; the best place for a child to be it was totally safe. There were a lot of allotments on either side of what we called Jacob’s ladder; they were full up of people trying to grow food on a terrific slope the allotments were full up. When you came down Jacob’s ladder and turned into the Avenue there were Beech trees and there was always this sort of damp earthy smell, when I come down our path now (in Lewes) it’s the same, it reminds me, that little path down from the prison. The other thing is you collected whatever you could. You went blackberry picking in the August holidays and before that, behind where Heather Lodge is now, there were wild raspberries. Later on in the year there were always beech nuts we used to collect these and take them home and roast them on the shovel in front of the fire. We used to eat them though some people said they were dangerous.
There was a parade of shops later on, when they built in the middle between Upper and Lower Bevendean Avenues. I think they came afterward we had been in our house for 3 or 4 years. They built the houses in the middle and then they built the shops and of course the one that did the most trade was the newsagent and sweetshop. Mum used to give me a halfpenny on Friday if she still had a halfpenny left.
Our house had 2 big bedrooms and one tiny bedroom, which was Jean’s and mine, it was over the front door. Granny had the front bedroom with the fire and Mum and Dad had the back bedroom. When we moved to Bevendean we had a proper bath. It was bitterly cold in winter that’s what I remember about it. You couldn’t see out of the windows when the frost was there, you had to breathe on it and rub it with your finger to see out. There were bay windows lovely in the summer but not sensible in the winter. Mum wished we’d had a Council house because the windows were smaller and I think the Council houses were warmer but they wouldn’t give us one. The Council wouldn’t give us a Council house until our furniture was out on the street, they were moving the people from the slums to Whitehawk at the time and so I suppose they needed all the Council houses and they were encouraging people to move into the area. They gave Council houses to people working at the Danish bacon company, it was totally unfair.
Granny was 94 when she died, my sister was 23 when she died and dad was 54 when he died. They all died within 3 years of each other. That just left Mum and me until I married Peter. It was terrible for my Mum; I never left her, that’s why stayed there 70 years. I don’t think my mother ever got over Jean dying. Granny’s role in the home was to cook the dinner, and mum did the housework. We were very poor we had to pay the mortgage we didn’t have any new clothes, they were all passed on, everybody passed on clothes. We all had jobs to do at home. My father was the Ovingdean village postman from 1919 when he came out of hospital after the war until he died in 1944. It was the quiet round for him, they never took the shrapnel out of his head. Sometimes he brought home cardboard which we had to make into shapes for our shoes because the shoes had holes in them. If it was wet of course you couldn’t wear the shoes you had to wear wellies which had lots of names in them before yours. Then you had to take these funny old plimsolls to school to change into from your wellies, but everybody was the same, everybody was poor it didn’t matter.
We had a back garden, the top part was vegetables and the bottom part was lawn and grass, but that had to be dug up during the war to grow vegetables. We saved all the newspapers they were thrown into a bath with rainwater and thoroughly soaked. Dad would dig a trench and the newspapers went in the trench and so did all the cuttings and vegetable peelings from the compost and that was the trench for the runner beans. Each year he moved that trench down so that all the top part was wonderful good. We never kept any chickens, Mr Wiggins had chickens. A lot of people used to keep rabbits during the war to kill them and eat them but we didn’t do that. We grew a few flowers in the front bit of the garden.
In the winter mother had to get the washing out by 10:30 and in by 1:30 because the sun went down over what was the sanatorium and if you left your washing out it either got frozen stiff or got wet again. The sanatorium is now a housing estate, the Jews cemetery is up there that’s where the sun went down. It was hard for the women, very hard for the women trying to bring up their children. I think everybody was extremely poor a lot of people used to walk to the trams that turned round where the barracks were, then it was a penny. Whereas if you got on a bus that turned round by the 5 barred gate where the nursing home Heather Lodge is now that was two and a half pence down the town. So people used to walk to the trams because it was only a penny down the town.
Summertime was lovely; the best place for a child to be it was totally safe. There were a lot of allotments on either side of what we called Jacob’s ladder; they were full up of people trying to grow food on a terrific slope the allotments were full up. When you came down Jacob’s ladder and turned into the Avenue there were Beech trees and there was always this sort of damp earthy smell, when I come down our path now (in Lewes) it’s the same, it reminds me, that little path down from the prison. The other thing is you collected whatever you could. You went blackberry picking in the August holidays and before that, behind where Heather Lodge is now, there were wild raspberries. Later on in the year there were always beech nuts we used to collect these and take them home and roast them on the shovel in front of the fire. We used to eat them though some people said they were dangerous.
There was a parade of shops later on, when they built in the middle between Upper and Lower Bevendean Avenues. I think they came afterward we had been in our house for 3 or 4 years. They built the houses in the middle and then they built the shops and of course the one that did the most trade was the newsagent and sweetshop. Mum used to give me a halfpenny on Friday if she still had a halfpenny left.
3rd June 2013
continued
Story_015b