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Holt
Holt maps
Historic maps of Holt and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all Holt maps
Holt photos
We have no photos of Holt, although we do have photos of these nearby places:
Great Chalfield| South Wraxall| Bradford-On-Avon| Trowbridge| Melksham| Avoncliff| Winsley| Steeple Ashton| Rood Ashton| Gastard| Iford| Iford| Kingsdown| Box| Farleigh Hungerford| Limpley Stoke| Freshford| Seend| Corsham| Ditteridge| Bathford| Monkton Combe| Lacock| Hinton Charterhouse| Bathampton| Rode| Batheaston| Colerne| Edington| Norton St Philip
Holt area books
Displaying 1 of 12 books about Holt and the local area. View all books for this area
You can read extracts and browse photos from these books.
Memories of Holt
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Wiltshire memories
HIBBARD of Hilperton
My wife Lynne and I visited the Anglican Church to search the headstones for my ancestors.
On the day we visited, there was a Christening that had just been completed and the Vicar was chatting to the christening party.
Lynne got to chatting with the Vicar's lady assistant, while I went to the front of the Church where there were several headstones.
What a surprise ! I located my G-Grandfather's twin sister's headstone Dorcas HALL (nee HIBBARD) 27 July 1908, along with Thomas 5 March 1886 and a child Walter John 26 November 1877.
Hilperton is the town where my G-G-Grandfather Charles HIBBARD resided during the 1851, 1861, 1871 and 1881 Census, with 2 daughters' Sarah Ann and Louisa Mary.
In the 1891 Census Charles is in the Hilperton Rectory and listed as a pauper, which I find very unusual !.
G-G-Grandfather Charles is buried in the nearby town of Trowbridge.
G-Grandfather William's home in Aickmans Road, Christchurch, New Zealand was... Read more
Cainey Family
My grandparents, lived in Lower South Wraxall all their married life. They were married in St James Church and are buried in the churchyard, along with their son Harald. Their daughter Emily (Sis) as she was known, sang in the choir. She was married to Wally Harper and they also are buried there, also auntie Olive with her daughter Janet Webb. There is a memorial to her husband Albert who went down on HMS Hood. St James Church has an unusual saddle roof to the tower, this design is I am told, quite rare. I spent many happy school holidays with family in South Wraxall and have many happy memories. My grandparents Bert and Elizabeth had seven children, of which my father was the eldest son. Going further back, also buried in the churchyard are the graves of my great grandparents, Abel and Rosanna and their son John. I expect there are many more Caineys there too, but sadly in the over grown part of the churchyard. I last visited... Read more
The Old Ride
I first saw Frankleigh House through the trees in the distance as I was driven there for my first day at The Old Ride Preparatory School for Boys. The school and its predecessor had been based there for many years. As a seven year old it was an inspiring sight. What seemed to be a huge building in acres of lawns and green fields. Tennis courts, a swimming pool and cricket pavilion just part of the grounds. Inside, a stunning hall with wood panelling, flagstone floor and the smell of furniture polish. The dining hall with a stage at one end swagged with red velvet curtains. A library with an elaborate plaster ceiling. Large dormitories smelling of disinfectant. And the classrooms with underfloor heating (supposedly). Boiled cabbage, tyrannical rules and even as a non-boarder, seven days a week with prep not finishing until 7pm. Happy days.
The Old Ride
I was a day boy between 1966 and 1970. I was always in trouble and spent most of my meals on the punishment table. The ruling was tyranical, you had to eat everything on your plate and couldn't leave the table until you had done so; classical music was played during the main course at lunch time and talking was not allowed. The teachers were either eccentric or old fogeys found on the scrap heap. Plug, the head, ruled the place with a rod of iron, and after staff meeting on a Monday lunch time, on return to the school-room, he would see a line of boys against the window that had been pulled out by the equally tyranical head boy. He would stand there bolt upright, arms down by his side, one index finger rigid pointing, rapidly nodding his head as he scanned the row of boys, and getting redder and redder until he exploded - not a pretty sight. Snoop - he was so short sighted that when... Read more
Childhood Years
My name is Annette Deighton, and I was a child of five living in Atworth with my parents John and Betty Hopkins in 1965. I have fond memories of the primary school in the village which I attended with my brother Philip and my sister Lorraine. Mr Lowes was the headmaster at the time and was such a lovely man. I remember a teacher called Mrs Talford, and the nature walks we had in nearby fields close to the school. I have very happy memories of the village and people we knew there.
Cottles Lodge, Atworth
One of my fondest memories is of Great auntie Nell, she lived all alone in a very lonely place called Cottles Lodge which in times long ago was the lodge to Cottles House, which is now Stoner School for girls.(Private). Cottles Lodge was a great place to explore, with an orchard, endless fields all round and a high wall. Electric was late in reaching Cottles Lodge so oil lamps were the norm for many years and water pulled from the well. Auntie Nell was a very hard worker she had dozens of chickens and sold some of the eggs to passing trade . She was very deaf and her hearing aid would give off a loud whistle which was great amusement to us kids. But she was a generous person who loved her nephews and nieces very much. Vivian a childhood friend and I would often walk to South Wraxall from Whitley starting off very early. The road to Wraxall went past auntie Nell's home, so we would... Read more
Summer Days
My Sister Carolynn and I practically lived at the pool in summer even before it was heated and was often a bit chilly. Walking through the park & over the waste ground with our costume rolled in a towel under our arm. Entering the gate and hearing the fountain splashing, children screaming with laughter and the smell of chlorine in our noses, it was magic.
A quick change & walk through the disinfectant pool and we were there with everyone else having fun. When after many happy hours of swimming and jumping in it was time to leave we would put our costume throught the mangle and head home exausted but happy and keen for the next day so we could do it all again.
The Pool has long gone and I am no longer living near Trowbridge myself but the noises, sights and smells remain with me to this day and I am sure I am not the only one who misses those halcyon days of the... Read more
