William Hulbert and the lost headstone

How is it possible to lose a headstone, especially such a striking one as this?

I took this photograph about fifteen years ago, but when I recently decided to update my records, I couldn’t find it. It once stood proud and very obvious in a area of Section C where there are few other headstones. How was it that I just couldn’t find it anymore?

This headstone, with it’s symbolic entrance to eternity, has a very interesting history. The plot was first established as a public grave for the burial of infants. The first child buried here was Ethel Louisa Marsh, just three months old when she was buried on October 18, 1897. All that can be discovered about this baby (without purchasing her death certificate) is the address her death was registered at in the burial registers – 34 Avenue Road. Just five days later Edith May Burgess, aged one month old was buried here. Again, all that can be discovered (without a death certificate) is the address in the burial registers at which her death was registered – 11 Carfax Road.

The two babies lay undisturbed for more than thirty years until Joan Edna Hulbert was buried here on January 9, 1934 and just days later Molly Gwendolen Dodson on January 25, 1934. Molly was eight months old, the daughter of Edwin and Ivy Dodson who in 1934 were living at 48 Percy Street, Rodbourne.

There are still a few gaps in my reasearch and it is not known at what point the Hulbert’s decided to purchase the grave.

Both William George Hulbert and his wife Beatrice Alice Shepherd would appear to have been born and raised in London. They married in the Lambeth registration district in the June quarter of 1921. By 1934 they were living at 54 Exmouth Street, Swindon where little Joan Edna died that year aged 2 years old. William died in 1960 aged 65. His last home address was 27 Beckhampton Street. Beatrice died more than 20 years later at St Margaret’s Hospital, Ridgeway House, Wootton Bassett.

But, thankfully, this distinctive headstone has not disappeared completely, as I discovered when armed with a cemetery I went exploring. A seedling has sprouted through the opening and toppled the whole thing over while grass has grown up and covered the kerbstone. If there are any family members still living in Swindon who would like to help restore the headstone, we’d love to hear from you.

A private, close knit family

The re-imagined story …

I’d walked past 10 Bath Road many times before. It was a pretty little house with a charming wrought iron porch, but it was very neglected. The woodwork badly needed a coat of paint and moss grew in the guttering and obviously hadn’t been cleared out in years. I never saw anyone go in or out, but then I don’t suppose you very often see the people who live in the houses you walk past.

I began training as a district nurse at the Victoria Hospital in 1956 under the supervision of the formidable Nurse Morris. Our first call that Monday morning was at 10 Bath Road.

“This is the home of Miss Mary and Miss Frances Wilton,” Nurse Morris explained. “Miss Frances had a fall several weeks ago and I’ve been dressing an ulcer on her leg.” She paused to look at me. “You’re not squeamish, I hope.”

I thought she was making a reference to the wound I was about to see.

“I’ll not make a very good nurse if I am,” I laughed, full of youthful audacity.

Nurse Morris raised her eyebrows. She wasn’t impressed. She said nothing.

We leant our bicycles against the garden wall and Nurse Morris knocked on the front door. We waited for what seemed like a very long time.

“No one in?”

“Miss Mary is over 80 years old,” she snapped back. I wasn’t making a very good impression. I pulled a face at Nurse Morris, behind her back, obviously.

Eventually the front door with the chipped paintwork opened a crack.

“Nurse, welcome, welcome. Do come in,” a soft voice greeted us.

“Good morning Miss Mary. I’ve brought a student with me today, hope that’s alright with you?” She turned back to me with such a glare, I wasn’t quite sure what I had done wrong this time. “Miss Mary, this is Linda.” I held out my hand and in the dark hallway the smallest, little wizen hand grasped mine.

“How nice to meet you, my dear. My sister and I seldom receive visitors these days.”

Miss Mary, when I could eventually see her in the murky hall, was as neat as a pin; until I looked again more closely. The little bird like figure was dressed in a long, dark dress, stained and stiff with dirt. Her long, white hair was tied up in a neat bun on top of her head but her wrinkled face was engrained with dirt. She had the twinkliest blue eyes and an engaging smile. She must have been a lovely looking young woman.

Now the smell inside the house hit me. It was indescribable. A cocktail of human excrement and cat wee and unemptied bins and something I couldn’t even put a name to.

I looked at Nurse Morris for some kind of explanation, but she clearly wasn’t disposed to give me one.

Miss Mary led us into what had once been an elegant dining room overlooking the front garden, but which now served as a bedroom for our patient.

“Good morning Miss Frances. How is the leg?”

At first I could barely see the old lady lying in the bed, so small was she. If Miss Mary was tiny, Miss Frances was skeletal, her face cadaverous. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help myself. I was shocked by the physical condition of these two sisters who were malnourished and filthy, their home dirty, unhygienic and neglected. A cat that had been sitting on the bottom of the bed suddenly sprang into the dark corner of the room where there was a sudden scurrying and a squeaking.

“This is looking much better, Miss Frances,” said Nurse Morris as she began to clean the ulcer on the lady’s shin.

“Would you two nurses like a cup of tea?” asked Miss Mary.

I dare hardly imagine the state of the kitchen, but before I could reply Nurse Morris shot me another warning glance.

“Thank you, Miss Mary, but we had a cuppa with our last lady. I’m fine, how about you Linda?”

“Yes, I mean no, no thank you,” I stuttered.

Nurse Morris maintained an easy conversation with the two women as she worked and soon our patient was settled back against the grubby pillows on the bed.

“Well I think that’s us done for today,” she said. “Is there anything we can help you with while we’re here? Shall we empty this commode?”

Please, please don’t ask me to do that, I thought. And where would we begin. They both needed a bath, the bedclothes needed changing, their clothes need washing and that’s before any attempt was made on the filthy house.

“No thank you nurse,” said Miss Mary with the sweetest, gentlest smile. “We’re just ticketyboo, aren’t we Fan?” She rested her claw like hand on her sister’s skinny shoulder.

The front door had barely closed on us when Nurse Morris laid into me.

“Before you say one word, young lady you must learn to disguise your emotions, especially your disgust. Those two ladies are perfectly aware of the conditions they are living in. They are old, not stupid.”

“But why would you put up with that?” The smell of the house clung to my clothes.

“Because they are proud and they don’t want to ask for help.”

“Someone should sort them out.”

“Have you got grandparents?”

I had and they lived in a tidy little terrace house in Gorse Hill. Was she going to make some kind of comparison?

“And would they appreciate someone barging in and telling them what to do, touching their things and clearing up and throwing things away?”

“No, but …”

“If you are going to be a good district nurse you must quickly learn compassion and empathy.” We pushed our bicycles side by side, back to the hospital.

“They value their independence. Would you take that away?”

“No, but …”

I could not argue with Nurse Morris, but I knew there must be some solution to the ladies’s predicament, some way of providing them with help without robbing them of their dignity. I learnt a valuable lesson that day and have Nurse Morris to thank for my long career in nursing. And of course the Misses Wilton.

The facts …

The imposing monument pictured below marks the grave of the Wilton family. The burial registers record that it covers plots D5a and D6a with six graves reserved in a brick built vault.

Elizabeth was the first to die and the dedication on the prominent face of the memorial is to her. What is interesting is the name of the property that was the Wilton home in 1905 – ‘Old Croft’ Bath Road. Research has revealed that Old Croft, 10 Bath Road was the family home for more than sixty years. In 1901 10 Bath Road was the home of Swindon architect William Henry Read, so unless some renumbering took place in the early 20^th century it is possible to trace the house history of this property for almost 100 years.

George Wilton was a butcher by trade and for more than 30 years the family lived over the shop at 58 Fleet Street. He married Elizabeth Townsend at St Leonard’s Church, Broad Blunsdon on October 25, 1870. She was 37 years old and he was 49 so quite a mature couple for a first marriage. Their first daughter Mercy Joanna was born on October 31, 1871, followed by Ruth Edith on November 19, 1872, Frances Elizabeth on March 25, 1874 and finally Mary Townsend on March 15, 1875.

The Wilton family were a very private, close knit unit. The four daughters didn’t marry, didn’t have any children, or nephews and nieces to tell their story. How did they end their days? Mercy and Ruth both died in the 1940s but Frances and Mary lived on into the 1960s and extreme old age. Were they comfortably off, well provided for, well cared for? Were they fit and vital in their last years? Did they belong to clubs and societies? Did they have a wide circle of friends? Is my re-imagined story way off the mark?

George died in 1908 and the Faringdon Advertiser and Vale of the White Horse Gazette published the following obituary.

‘Death of Mr George Wilton – General regret will be felt at the news of the death of Mr George Wilton, which took place at his residence, Old Croft, Bath Road, Swindon on Tuesday morning. Deceased, who was in his 87^th year, was born at Oaksey. He was the oldest butcher in the town, and in an unbroken period of about 35 years he conducted a successful business in Fleet Street, retiring a little less than three years ago. Mr Wilton was a purveyor of the old fashioned type, and his excellent judgment and the dependable character of his stock established for him the reputation of being the leading butcher in New Swindon for many years. Apart from his business, to which he was most devoted, Mr Wilton was in no sense a public man, and was, in fact, of a retiring disposition. His wife pre-deceased him about three years ago, but there remain four daughters to mourn a heavy loss. Although burdened by the weight of years, Mr Wilton was in his usual health until Boxing Day from which time the fatal illness really dated.’

All four sisters lived on a private income with Mary appearing to be the only one to have paid employment when in 1939 she was working as a Brewery Cashier.

When Mercy died in 1944 she left £2,611 6s to her sister Mary. Ruth, who died two years later, left more than £3,800, also to Mary. However, when Mary died in 1961 her effects were valued at just £411 19s which she left to the last surviving sister Frances.

All four sisters are buried with their parents.

Ben Lawson Hook – Fitter’s apprentice

Do you have a 15 year old son? Maybe you have a 15 year old grandson. He’s probably at school as you read this or if it’s the school holidays, he’s probably playing some online computer game with his mates.

On Tuesday May 7, 1895 15 year old Ben Lawson Hook was at work in the R Shop (Loco Department) at the GWR Works. He was 18 months into a 6 and a half year Fitters apprenticeship. But that day he was mucking about, as 15 year olds are wont to do. A witness at the inquest said the boy ‘had no business to be swinging on the tyre’ (the wheel or tyre weighed 9cwt 15lbs and was in the yard outside the shop).

Ben Lawson Hook was born on June 8, 1879 one of Frederick and Elizabeth Hook’s large family. Frederick was from Eastbourne and the family lived in Bexhill for sometime before moving to Swindon in the late 1870s. Elizabeth died in 1892 and Frederick in 1894. By the time of the 1901 census 17 year old Sidney was recorded as head of the household, living with his sisters Millie 30, housekeeper, Caroline 28, tailoress, Katie 23, laundress and 9 year old Norah.

But this was more than five years later. At the inquest held in the Cricketers Arms on Thursday May 9, 1895 ‘the jury returned a verdict of “Accidental death.” No blame being attached to anyone.- Mr J. Fordyce Stephenson was present to watch the case on behalf of the GWR authorities.’ The boy was buried the next day.

Image published courtesy of S.C. Hatt Local Studies, Swindon Central Library.

Fatal Accident to a Boy in the GWR Works – On Thursday afternoon, Mr W.E.N. Browne, County Coroner, held an inquest at the “Cricketers’” Arms, New Swindon, on the body of Lawson Hook, aged 15 years, of Maxwell street, New Swindon, who was killed on Tuesday last.

Deceased was employed in the R Shop (Loco Department) of the GWR Works. It appears that deceased and two other boys were amusing themselves in various ways, and deceased swung himself on to a large wheel, weighing over nine cwt., which over balanced and fell on him, inflicting such serious injuries that he died three hours later.

Mr Alfred Adams was chosen foreman of the jury, and after viewing the body, which was lying at the GWR Medical Fund Hospital, the following evidence was taken. Mr. Frank Apted produced a plan of the place where the accident occurred, and a sketch showing how it happened. – Robert Hook, brother of the deceased, identified the body.

David Turnbull was the next witness. He said he saw the boy swinging on a large wheel or tyre – one of 34 which were resting against the wall. He saw the wheel overbalancing, and shouted out, “Good gracious, that boy will be killed.” The wheel fell across deceased’s thighs, and he immediately hurried to his assistance. With assistance he removed the tyre, and deceased was at once taken to the hospital. Deceased had no business to be swinging on the tyre; it weighed 9cwt 15lbs, and was in the yard outside the shop.

Wm. H. Green, an apprentice in the GWR Works, said he saw deceased swinging on the wheels or tyres. Just after witness left him the accident happened, and witness heard deceased groaning. Witness went back and tried to lift the tyre off deceased, but could not do so, and Mr Turnbull and three or four other men came up at the time.

Dr Crowther, assistant to Dr Swinhoe, said he was called to the hospital to see deceased. He was suffering from collapse, and died three hours later from shock to the system.

The jury returned a verdict of “Accidental death.” No blame being attached to anyone.- Mr J. Fordyce Stephenson was present to watch the case on behalf of the GWR authorities.

The Swindon Advertiser, Saturday, May 11, 1895.

Lawson Hook was buried in a public grave in Radnor Street Cemetery on May 10, 1895. He shares the grave with his two sisters. Clara Hook who died in November 1897, aged 15 years old. Millie Hook, who held the family together after the truly awful 1890s, died in March 1909 aged 38.

Frederick and Elizabeth Hook are buried in a public grave, plot B1711 with their daughter Nora who died aged 16 years of age in the Stratton Infirmary, also in March 1909.

Charles and Susannah Witts

This is the last resting place of Susannah and Charles Henry Witts. Susannah died first, in 1936 and Charles outlived her by more than 20 years.

Susannah was born in Stratford, East London, but grew up in West Ham where her father worked as a paperhanger and painter. In the 1901 census Susannah, then aged 20, was recorded as working with her father, also as a paperhanger and painter.

Charles Henry Witts was born at Stratton Green and was baptised at St Margaret’s Church. He was the son of Charles Neville Witts and his wife Caroline.

By 1891 the Witts family had moved to 68 Medgbury Road. Charles Snr had a job in the Works as a Boilermaker’s Assistant, but guess what I found 12-year-old Charles Henry doing? He was working as a paperhanger’s boy.

Charles Henry married Susannah Cleminson in 1905 in her home parish of West Ham, but they obviously decided they didn’t want to carry on the paperhanging and painting business. By this time Charles Henry was working as a stationer and the couple lived at 35 Curtis Street from the time of their marriage to Charles Henry’s death in 1958.

Susannah died on January 11, 1936 at Queen Mary’s Hospital in Stratford.

Now while I was researching this family on the Ancestry website I had a bit of luck. I found a family tree with photographs but unfortunately it was a private tree with the information withheld but I emailed the person who had set up the tree asking her if she could let me have a scan of the photo of Charles Henry and Susannah. Well she did better than that – she let me have access to the tree and permission to copy all the photos!

So here we have Charles Henry and Susannah with their two children, Winifred and George, and Susannah’s father (the paperhanger and painter). The second photo is of Charles Henry and Susannah in later life with a baby who is thought to be one of their grandchildren,

Look how women’s fashions changed during Susannah’s lifetime.

So, then I started searching the cemetery registers for other members of the family who might be buried here in Radnor Street. Charles and Susannah’s daughter Winifred died in 1988 aged 80 and she is buried here with her husband Victor in plot C1684. Then we have Charles Henry’s brother Ernest, he died in 1962 and is buried with his wife Ivy and two members of her family in E7909. Ernest also worked as a stationer. Here’s a charming photo of them with their baby son Peter.

This is Julia Crook nee Witts, Ernest and Charles Henry’s sister. Here she is with her husband Sidney Crook and two of their daughters. Their eldest daughter, Lilian Florence Crook, died aged just 4 months old and is buried in a public or pauper’s grave with seven others in C263. The second photo is of Sidney and Julia Crook in later life.

Sidney died in November 1967 and Julia in March 1968 and they are buried in plot C1685.

But that’s not the end.

This is Caroline and Charles Witts, the parents of Charles Henry, Ernest and Julia (plus at least three other children). Charles died in 1927 and is buried with Caroline who died in 1940 in grave plot D341 with another woman (possibly their daughter Annie Maria who died in 1935).

Martha Potter and the Schmidt family

It can only be wondered what life was like for the Schmitz family during the anti-German feeling of two world wars. It is to be hoped that Swindon, where most people were incomers, was a tolerant town in which to live.

Martha Sarah Potter was the daughter of Jasper and Mary Ann Potter and married Vincent Joseph Schmitz in the March quarter of 1898. Vincent was the son of John Henry Schmidt, a watch maker born in Prussia in about 1832.

Little can be discovered about John Henry Schmitz before he married Mary Ann Phillips in 1869 but by the time of the 1871 census he was living and working at a property at 47 Regent Street. Mary Ann and their 8 month old son Vincent Joseph were living with him along with a 14 year old domestic servant Ann Tuck. Also at the same premises was John Corbishley, a Roman Catholic Priest and Ellen Bennett housekeeper, who was probably working just for the priest and not the Schmitz family.

John Henry Schmitz remained in business in various addresses at Regent Street. In retirement he moved to Boscombe where he lived with his daughter Annie Markley and her husband John. He died in Boscombe on March 24, 1925 aged 93 years old. His body was returned to Swindon where he was buried in grave plot E7511 with his wife Mary Ann who died in 1905 and his son Bernard Francis who died in 1921

At the time of the 1901 census Vincent and Martha Schmitz were living with their baby daughter Dorothea at the High Street, Wroughton where Vincent worked as a hairdresser. However, ten years later the family had moved to 56 Princes Street where Vincent was a firewood producer and dealer and Martha a shopkeeper. They had been married for 13 years and had just the one daughter. Living with them was Martha’s widowed father Jasper Potter.

Martha died in 1920. Vincent outlived her by more than 20 years and died in the Victoria Hospital in 1943. He is buried in Radnor Street Cemetery but in the Schmitz family plot. Interestingly he is recorded as Joseph Smith.

Heber Cox – a new life of opportunity

This is the final resting place of Stephen and Elizabeth Cox. Elizabeth died in 1917 and Stephen in 1926.

Stephen was born in Aldbourne and Elizabeth in Marlborough but by 1871 they had moved to Swindon and between the years 1871 to at least 1881 they managed a beer house in Queen Street.

At the time of the 1891 census Stephen was farming at The Wharf in Stratton with the help of his son Heber. When Stephen retired the couple moved to 32 Guppy Street in Rodbourne where they were living in 1901.

In 1908 Heber set sail upon the Sardinia, bound for Canada. On the ships schedule Heber, then aged 34, describes himself as a farmer and states his ultimate destination as Calgary, all set, no doubt for a new life of opportunity.

But on November 14, 1914 and by then aged 40 and still single, Heber enlisted with the Canadian Overseas Expeditionary Force. He served in the 31^st Canadian Infantry and was killed in action at Ypres on June 6, 1916. His name is mentioned on the Menin Gate memorial and here in Radnor Street on his parents’ headstone.

Lorna Dawes and the Pinnock family

Over the past three days I have been publishing the memories of Miss Lorna Dawes. Lorna was born on March 23, 1931, the daughter of Albert Dawes, an iron moulder, and his wife Mona Fanny Pinnock. Lorna lived in Tydeman Street all her life. I wished I had taken the opportunity to collect her memories of Gorse Hill.

Lorna’s maternal family originally came from Gloucestershire. Her grandparents, Emily Scales and Joseph Pinnock, married in St Mary’s Church, Tetbury on August 5, 1899. Joseph was a bricklayer, the son of Peter Pinnock, also a bricklayer. Emily was a dressmaker, the daughter of William and Anne Scales.

The couple began married life at 4 Haydon Terrace, Poulton Street where their first child was born. Victor Eric Pinnock was baptised at St. Barnabas Church, Gorse Hill. Their second son, Graham Joseph was baptised at St Mark’s on January 21, 1904. Mona Fanny (Lorna’s mother) was baptised at St John the Evangelist, Aylesbury Street (demolished in the 1950s). 111 Beatrice Street, Gorse Hill would be the Pinnock family home for more than 60 years.

Image of Beatrice Street taken around the time the Pinnock family moved into No. 111. Published courtesy of P.A. Williams and Local Studies, Swindon Central Library.

Emily Pinnock died in November 1918 and is buried in Radnor Street Cemetery in grave plot C3541. In 1920 Joseph married Emily’s elder sister Mary Scales. The family continued to live at 111 Beatrice Street – Joseph, Mary, Anne Scales (Mary and Emily’s widowed mother) and the three children Victor, Graham and Mona. Anne Scales died in December 1926 and was buried with her daughter in grave plot C3541.

Joseph Pinnock died in 1959 and was buried on March 3 in grave plot C3541 with his first wife Emily and his mother-in-law. Mary Pinnock died in the Princess Margaret Hospital May 1965. She was 93 years old. Her personal estate was valued at £1,102 and probate was awarded to her two stepsons/nephews Victor and Graham. She was buried in the family plot with her husband, mother and sister. Sadly, there is no headstone to mark the spot.

You may also like to read:

Miss Lorna Dawes and a life ‘inside.’

Lorna Dawes in her own words

Lorna Dawes – in her own words Pt 2

Lorna Dawes – in her own words Pt 3

Today’s blogpost concludes a series of articles written by Miss Lorna Dawes about her time working ‘Inside’ the GWR Works. These pieces first appeared in the Wiltshire Family History Society newsletter and are published here with the kind consent of Yvonne Neal.

In later years wages were brought from the bank by a man on an open bogie pulling two large boxes contained the cash.

I never heard an attempt to rob.

Lorna’s own sketch

The workmen queued up to be paid but the foremen were paid individually, and I used to go one week to the Loco Works, one week to the Carriage Works, accompanied by a man carrying the box of envelopes and money. We had to go to every shop office and many were upstairs above the workshop. In one workshop on the Loco side the noise almost took your breath away, and had the effect of freezing movement. So much so that you almost couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. In fact, deafness affected quite a few of the workers there. On a wet day, we hated it being the Loco side because of the oil and water hazard. This also applied to the tunnel on a wet day.

Disciplinary hearings were held with all the legal representatives and full reports. I typed some myself.

Long service awards, laid down by years: various items to choose e.g. camera, watch etc. Can’t tell you when this began, but was another of my involvements. I do know there were sometimes upsets because ‘one day out’ meant no award. Large ceremonies took place in the Training School with the Works Manager present.

There was a team of office cleaners. Many were elderly women and some came through the Works from Rodbourne. There was quite a lot of brass to clean! These cleaners did two shifts, early morning, possibly starting at 6.00 a.m., and again in the evening. Seemed a lot – 2 shifts.

There were quite a few cats in the workshops and offices. Unbelievably, a cat had a little of kittens behind a moulding box in the Foundry. The men were really concerned and told everyone to be careful. My Dad was there at the time. When the Works were closed for Trip, it wasn’t unknown for men to gain access to fee the cats.

When the library at the Mechanics closed, the books were sold off and I bought three – about Tibet and Nepal.

In my early days I travelled to work by bus and there were special buses laid on at the Works entrance.

My Dad had no ‘fixed’ bathroom at home and went to ‘the Baths’ after working in the Foundry.

In later years air conditioning fans were introduced in the Foundry but, when my Dad worked there, the only aid, especially on a hot summer’s day, was buckets of water – with something added – BRAN.

Another job I had on Welfare consisted of finding lodgings for men attending Diesel Training School in Emlyn Square. At that time Swindon didn’t have much call for accommodation, apart from hotels, but we found nice places and two were in Beatrice Street.

I guess it was turpentine in those days as we dreaded the window cleaners (rail gang) coming. The smell hung on.

A man from Bristol came to service the typewriters but we had to do our own temporary repairs. One was to tie loose ‘type’ arms with cotton and it did work until the engineer came.

Spring was heralded when an older man messenger, who travelled the Works on a bicycle (such were the distances) came to us in the offices with bunches of pussy willows picked in the concentration yard.

Workers played all sports at the GWR Sports Ground in Shrivenham Road. Teams of clerks and workers against one another. Snooker and billiards were played in the Mechanics.

Weekly repertory meetings were also held in the Mechanics. One group did long spells of different plays each week.

Other activities included:

GWR Male Voice Choir

National Savings Group – a large silver cup was fought over

First Aid Classes and competitions – all lines competed.

Arts and Crafts (Mechanics) from all over the GWR.

GWR Music Festival

Mass x-rays

Blood donations

As for stationery – masses of ‘scrap pads’ were produced and available.

Women were employed in the sewing room, laundry, canteens, casualty centres as well as clerks.

I had to accompany new entrants, and female illness cases, to Park House and ‘sat in’. I also collected water samples and remember one ‘donation’ was in a large-sized HP sauce bottle – full up!

You may also like to read:

Miss Lorna Dawes and a life ‘inside’

Lorna Dawes – in her own words

Lorna Dawes – in her own words Pt 2

‘At times there were items for sale at the General Stores and I purchased a cycle cape. I missed out on a GWR platform seat from Reading, which sold for £50.’ Read more about Lorna’s life working ‘Inside.’

GWR Memories Part 2

Carol concerts were held in many areas around the Works, including in the Drawing Office. A local band always attended and many office staff joined in.

The main tunnel was white-washed during ‘Trip’ week. Normally there would have been hundreds of people coming and going.

There would be weeks of overtime for Staff Office Typists, as well as clerks, when passes were written for ‘Trip’ trains. When trains departed, there was always a male clerk in attendance to check things, and sort tickets if there was someone without theirs. It did happen.

Long distance ‘Trip’ trains left overnight. We went to Tenby, arriving at 6.00 a.m. at our Lodge where the family would be up and waiting for us, and I still have contacts even after 80 years.

As the train proceeded west and people alighted at earlier stations, we all waved them off and wished them well. It was lovely.

I had nine years on accident reports and claims for compensation. A friend was shocked to see me staggering to my desk with huge piles of paperwork. Such was the volume of cases. As well as Park House and at least two doctors, there were casualty centres each side of the Works, ambulance boxes all over the Works and an Ambulance Inspector checking things as well as running exams. There were also ‘all line’ competitions with mock accidents and wounds.

There was a lovely well-equipped rest room for women in the Main Offices and we had a choice of colours for cloakrooms.

I was among clerks seconded from No. 13 Office to duties at the Works Book Office. There were three serving windows and women were put on the busiest … Bath, Cardiff, Weston, Bristol, Paddington and others.

The photo below was taken c. 1960, of the Works Booking Office Staff and their partners, on an outing to London. The staff were on regular duties at the Booking Office in between normal work in the Staff Office. Regular shifts of a week (?) at a time, but only certain hours.

To be there at the time the hooter blew was really terrifying. One minute it was absolute silence and then hundreds of men rushing out. The noise was over-whelming.

So many tickets issued that the racks ran out, but we had back-up from the men and they also cashed up. One penny out at 8.00 p.m. on a Friday night, and we had to check all again.

At times there were items for sale at the General Stores and I purchased a cycle cape. I missed out on a GWR platform seat from Reading, which sold for £50.

There were coal sales to staff, and also wood which consisted of off-cuts and old timber. It would be delivered, although you didn’t know what would come.

There were tales of a ghost in the tiled corridor of the Main Offices, near to the old part and close to the engine plaque on the outside wall.

Whilst on a welfare job I was partly involved with setting up a trolley service. It had always been dangerous for young girls carrying tea pots up the stairs (there were no lifts) and the hot water urn was also a hazard under one lot of stairs.

In one office we had ‘weigh day’ on Thursdays. All the girls went to a platform weigher used for goods and checked out the large pad.

Office staff were granted a day off and free pass for an outing. In January there would be suggestions for the venue, meals etc. and then the vote. Usually men and women separately. I’ve been to most places on the southwest coasts. If we went to eastern resorts, we went to a show in London afterwards. The men had barrels of beer on the train from Paddington and we travelled home by ‘Mails’ trains 10.00 – midnight, arriving home at 2.00 a.m. One time, two groups were caught at Westbury due to a problem, and I walked up the street at 5.00 a.m.

A group of office staff once did publicity shots of the Blue Pullman train, taken at Shaw sidings. I still have one of the pamphlets with photographs. We even had an actual tea laid on.

Fred Ferris, the Head Messenger, organised an evening trip on the Thames for all the office messengers. I think around 20 of us.

Just about everything had the GWR logo printed on it or moulded for identification, including pencils, paper, punches etc.

There was a ‘Helping Hand Fund’ raised by voluntary donations. At Christmas anyone with children received new toys via the Welfare Office at Paddington, and I delivered locally. One parcel I had to put on a different train, on a very snowy day, and I waited by the open fire in a station office.

The ‘Railway Benevolent Fund’ was raised by members’ contributions. The girls were asked to volunteer for flag days in the town and given sites for two at a time. In return for this couple of hours, we were allowed an extra half-day off.

No 13 Office was on the first floor over the Main Tunnel, so we could se the Wednesday groups of visitors. Also the ambulance, fire engine etc.

to be continued …

with grateful thanks to Lorna’s brother Ken and Yvonne Neal of the Swindon branch of the Wiltshire Family History Society.

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Miss Lorna Dawes and a life ‘inside’

Lorna Dawes – in her own words

Last year I published on this blog an article about Miss Lorna Dawes and her memories of working ‘inside’ (that is inside the GWR Works). Yvonne Neal, of the Swindon branch of the Wiltshire Family History Society, has managed to collate the articles Lorna wrote for that Society’s newsletter and has kindly given me permission to print them here. Yvonne also contacted Lorna’s brother Ken who has supplied this photograph of his sister. So, published here in three instalments is a piece of Swindon’s history – Lorna’s story – in her own words.

GWR Memories – Lorna Dawes

Swindon Railway Works grew over many years and became the site of a fantastic organisation, with many sub-sections and with everything needed to support and organise the volume of work, i.e. possibly more than one locomotive a week. Even had its own window cleaners, clock man and master clocks connection to Greenwich time, ambulance, fire engine etc. all in situ.

As a shy 14 year old, I came for interview with my mother, but really wanted to work in a flower nursery, not that there was any work experience in those days.

I joined an army of boy and girl office messengers, some in the main offices and others in workshop offices, dealing with immediate personnel. I ended up in No. 13 Staff Office (see further information below); the hub of the Works and in control of quite a few events all over the West and Wales. One small element was the letting of railway houses and cottages, which included a crossing cottage in the west, which carried the comment ‘water in churns’. It set me wondering at the possible difficulties.

I’ve realised lately that, whilst someone must have introduced me to my job, I actually ended up running it all myself as regards programming. It was extremely busy and most of it physical as I went to so many areas and hardly stopped. It was a job I loved and led on to all kinds of interests, so I never regretted it and I’ve always had friends.

The whole background was a pride-based one and it wasn’t unusual for new engines to bring an admiring crowd along the lines.

The messengers went on to apprenticeships for the boys and office jobs for some of them also, as well as clerical posts for the girls.

I had already started shorthand and typing privately, and it became a condition of work to proceed so I went to night school three nights a week 7.00 pm to 9.00 pm at the college in Sanford Street, which included Commerce, English and Arithmetic. The work-related ones were sometimes taught by men (Clerks) from the Works. I managed 130 wpm shorthand and really loved it.

The only way I was ever given ‘instructions’ was as part of a bell system for individuals, and I was about four or five rings to go to an officer at post time. For instance:

Early morning: sorted copies of last night’s post and distributed

Every morning: Bank bags to Railway Bank on London Street

Sometimes called into the Railway Union Group in next street, or Railway Club, Bridge Street.

On return every day, collected Time Book at main entrance. This contained information on anyone leaving/returning from outside the Works.

Then round the offices obtaining signatures to cover reasons given i.e. dentist, surgery, etc.

Then made coffee, individual cups for about 25, and washed up downstairs.

I was responsible for obtaining and distributing dusters, towels, soap, string etc. to ‘my’ office, around 25, and sometimes to General Stores, which was between the Main Offices and the Station. It was a large building with three floors and I had to find the correct location.

The Stationery Office and another office was accessed by crossing all the lines in front of the Engine Shed where engines were being shunted and men cleaning. (Graded – cleaner, fireman and then driver.) The Stationery Office had typing paper, some water-marked, ink pens and also confetti from punch cards!

The Duplicating Office was in the wall of the Body Shop. Here there was the traverser hazard and I quite often had to divert. I had to go there a lot and quite often in a rush with special or urgent notices. Printing was slow and with a hand roller, one at a time, which meant I had to wait around.

At Park House I saw drivers with piles of coloured wool which were used to give vital eyesight checks. Yes!! Also went into the cellar for old files, some were accident originals.

At the Mechanics Institute, I had to transport books to and fro between ‘Officers’ who read and vetted books before they were put on display in the Mechanics Library (may be something no one knew).

I took ‘travellers’ to the Loco or Carriage Works and also interviewees to the Carriage Canteen.

Sometimes I was sent to the Loco Canteen, for clerks who needed sandwiches because they had unexpectedly to work overtime. The Loco Canteen was underground and in electric light.

The Works had its own Telephone Exchange – push/pull units.

The Head Messenger’s office, Mr Bill Ferris, was where the postal boxes were kept.

The Storehouse consisted of three floors and was to the rear of the offices. Very creepy there as it was quite often empty except for files.

I also had to go to the Laboratory at Church Place.

The Drawing Offices were on the third floor, main building – you could see Purton from the landings.

The above were my duties, and places I had to go in the mornings. In the afternoons:

Make tea and wash-up.

Get post signed and despatched – that was very busy

Works Cash Office

Visit to the fourth floor – no lift, exhausting!

Mileage Office – SPL, toilet for older women in this office!

Extra jobs would include advertisers and lardies

A little story: I was sent in search of saccharines (sweeteners) for a desperate officer one day after Bank duty!

These are all rough memories but my work seemed to get more and more interesting all the time.

I spoke before about No. 13 Office. The layout in 1945 was:

Boss of Staff Office – Percy Mills

Deputy – Ted Click – in the corner was my bit of desk and a cupboard

Four typists – I was one here, later. One of the typists was a big fan of WEA Hikers and I joined. Another was the daughter of Louis Page, Football Manager. She took me to the Isle of Man, with two others, when I was around 14½.

Then there were row of Clerks.

More than once I passed F.W. Hawksworth, Chief Mechanical and Electrical Engineer, in the tunnel. My wages in 1945 were 18/- a week. (approx. 90p).

I probably have enough to fill my own book with my very wide GWR experiences and, in fact, Rosa Matheson has used a lot of my information. I once gave an hour’s talk to the Railway Lounge Group.

To be continued …

You may also like to read:

Miss Lorna Dawes and a life ‘inside’.