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Bamford memories

Here are memories of Bamford and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Bamford or a Bamford photo.

Birth Place

Marquis of Granby Hotel c1955
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I was Born in this Hotel on the 31st May 1968. My Parents, Graham and Anne Henderson were running it back then.

Family Tree

Marquis of Granby Hotel c1955
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I am researching my family tree and found that a relative called Percival George Jeffrey was a proprietor of the Marquis of Granby around about the late 1800s or early 1900s.

Bamford Parish Church - No One Cares Anymore

A churchyard  is a place where families can be near their deceased loved ones, a calm and beautiful place surrounded by trees and flowers, but that is not the case in Bamford churchyard. The grass and weeds are taking over so it is impossible to walk through the graves without being entangled or tripping over the fallen headstones hidden in the grass. The odd grave is trimmed and tended by loved ones but most of the churchyard is an eyesore, not even the pathways are mown.

A large number of my family are buried in this churchyard so there is always somebody bringing flowers and tidying around the family's graves but the grass around is so thick that my disabled mother and auntie have both stumbled. It is only a matter of time before someone seriously injures themselves, then who will be held responsible? Will it be the Bishop of Derby or our Revd Katie Tupling? Maybe the church wardens Jenny Mather and Carol Cotton, or the Parish... Read more

Born in Bamford

I was born in Bamford in 1946.
Now live in Nth Queensland, Australia.
My folks were married in Bamford and my dad is buried there too.
Part of the Greenhough family.

Growin Gup in Bamford

Hi, I am now 57 years and live in Los Angeles, USA. I just felt homesick and nostalgic and discovered this site. Growing up in the 50s and 60s in Bamford was wonderful (not that I felt that then). I've lived in several countries in my life, the older I get the more I relate to my childhood, my family, my friends. My parents, John and Joan, have recently passed. I grew up on Brentwood Road and still remember most of the families and kids, we all went to the same school as our parents. I love my memories of long summer days playing soccer at the rec, going for walks up Joan Lane and around Thornhill. If anyone from that time reads this I would love some contact.


Memories of Derbyshire

Birthplace.

Nether Hall 1902
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My Uncle Charles and my father James Scott  were born at Nether Hall in the early 1900's. The family was in service to Sir Henry Longman. The main family residence was Shendish House in Apsley,Hertfordshire where my grandfather,William Scott was coachman and head of the stables.  All the horses owned by the Longmans were given a name beginning with L.  My own grandaughter has a wooden rocking horse, named Larkspur, after my father's favourite mare.

Stables at Shendish Manor

My grandfather, Albert Clements, was a coachman at Shendish Stables at the time of the 1911 Census and so may have been a work colleague of William Scott (as posted by Barbara Gill on this site)

The "White Hart Inn" Towngate

My husband's ancestors John & Ann Archer were Innkeeper's of this Inn in Bradwell in the 1850's. They lived here until their deaths in 1879 & are buried in St.Barnabus Churchyard.
They both originally came from Kirkburton West Yorkshire & at one time were Tollkeepers for nearby Mytham Bridge Toll Road.

The "White Hart Inn"

My Gt.Gt.Grandparents ran this Inn in Bradwell during the 1870's. Their names were John & Ann Archer. They originally came from West Yorkshire in a place called Kirkburton.
John & Ann had a great many children who married into Bradwell families.
John & Ann both died in 1879 wilthin a few months of each other & are buried in St.Barnabus Churchyard.

There is a photo on the wall of the White Hart Inn today which was taken in the 1870's with a reference to my Grandparents underneath.

Michael John Archer (Sheffield)

A Soldiers Lament

Will I ever hear the wind sough in the trees as I lie in my trench in the night? Will I ever hear our Anna's laughing voice. or see my mother's kindly face? Here in the trenches of the Somme, lying in the mud, the everlasting mud, my thoughts fly like the birds on wing, back to my home, to Little Hucklow's gentle calm. A young man still, nineteen summers I have had, yet old I feel with horrors I have seen, my comrades blown to pieces before my eyes, incessant gunfire in my ears, the stench of blood and worse is all around me. Yet through this horror my thoughts turn inward, Back to my home, to England, that fair and pleasant land, my home in Derbyshire, my sisters and brother. Will I ever hear the wind sough in the trees,as I lie in my bed at night, or will I lie in this foreign land, an unmarked grave, one of thousands? No name, just 'the unknown soldier', my... Read more

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