Holidays In War Time

A Memory of Howden Dene.

My mother’s cousin, Gordon Ross, was the head gardener at Howden Dene in the ‘30s and ‘40’s, when the property was owned by the Straker-Smith family. I was born in 1934. During WW2 when sea-side holidays were difficult, my mother and I would often go to Howden Dene to visit. The Rosses had two children, slightly younger than me, and we would often be joined by my aunt and my two boy cousins from Scotland: quite a group. The owners were away, fighting the War, and the house was scheduled to be used as an emergency hospital in case of an invasion, with fighting in England. The lovely rose garden, which I remembered from pre-1940 visits, was turned into a potato patch, despite the existence of a very large, walled, kitchen garden. At the time, the head gardener had a cottage to the East of the heated greenhouse. (It has since been considerably enlarged.) No bath: we had to use a bathroom, booked at a specific time, which was next to the boiler house of the long and magnificent greenhouse. On one visit we slept in the big house, somewhat disturbed by the striking clock over the stable entrance. And I remember visiting the gun room, empty of guns of course, where the son of the butler had set up a superb model railway on (I think) an octagonal table. The Ross family were strict “brethren” and I remember that one morning, they were scandalised to see my mother wearing “slacks” as they were called. She was treated to a lecture based on certain verses from Leviticus. Gordon would get up early, organise his staff, and then return home to lead family prayers at around 9 a.m.
After the War, the Family returned and we children had strict instructions to be never visible from the house. A good part of the big house was demolished. But soon, the estate was sold to Mr. Cookson, of the titanium-dioxide pigment corporation, and the Straker-Smiths moved to Scotland. The head gardener was able to move, around 1945, into a house at the main entrance.
I remember a very scary swing bridge over the Tyne: use forbidden. Sometimes we would go outdoors quite early and pick mushrooms. Lots of other memories, of course.....
Peter Wolstenholme

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