You are here:
Melbourn
Melbourn maps
Historic maps of Melbourn and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all Melbourn maps
Melbourn area books
Displaying 1 of 10 books about Melbourn and the local area. View all books for this area
You can read extracts and browse photos from these books.
Memories of Melbourn
Displaying a selection of personal
memories of Melbourn.
Add your memory of Melbourn
or of a photo of Melbourn.
A Ghost in Melbourn High Streeet
I lived at 65 High Street from 1964 to 1971. The two little figures on the left of the photo are my two daughters, Lisa and Jane. We shared our house with a ghost who, we believe, was Miss Howard, who had previously lived there. Her father owned the baker's shop next door and had built the two houses next to it. Miss Howard 'appeared' to both my daughters at different times, when they were 18 months old and 3 years old, and I think that, at that young age, they were not capable of inventing such a story. Our dog was also aware of her presence, and over the years we were there, we frequently heard her walking about, along the landing and up and down the stairs. I've often wondered if any subsequent families living in the house has had similar experiences. My name in those days was Joyce Thorn, if anyone remembers me or my family, I would love to hear from them.
Hertfordshire memories
Milestone Cottage
My name is Jacqueline Erickson Morgan. I lived in Milestone Cottage from August 1968 - January 1971. I know this thatched cottage as Milestone Cottage; the name was due to the Milestone in front of the cottage that indicated the number of miles to Cambridge and to London.
The house number of the cottage was, I believe, 14 Whittlesford Rd.
This thatched cottage was absolutely delightful. My ex husband was doing post doctoral research at the MRC lab in Cambridge and Milestone Cottage was home.
It was tiny, 4 tiny rooms, 2 up and 2 down, brick floors downstairs. No hot water in the kitchen, no heat except for a fireplace in the living room and a storage heater in the kitchen, no fridge when we moved in, an added on bathroom, but I loved it.
It was home for the 1st 2 1/2 years of our daughter Rachel's life. She had wonderful friends in the neighbourhood, & in the Courtyard development. My time in Little Shelford... Read more
Robinson Graves
My paternal Robinson relatives (married Moore) are buried in the churchyard at Great Shelford from 1839 and at one time lived in Woollard's Lane. In 1849 they moved into Cambridge when William Joseph Robinson marrried Jane Rayment Mansfield Barrett. One branch remained in Cambridge whilst others moved to Lancashire and the United States.
School Days at Stapleford Primary
I was born in the village in 1953 and went to the junior school from 1958 until 1969 when I then went to Sawston Village College, I had many a happy day at the schoo. I can remember my first teacher, her name was Miss Deany, she was a nice teacher as I can recall. My first classroom is in the photo, it is the room to the left of the picture. My next classroom was to the back of the photo, I can't recall the teacher's name. I then moved to the classroom just behind the tree in the picture, the teacher's name was Mrs Stocks, very strict as I remember. I then moved into the room to left of the dustbins in the photo. The head teacher was dear old Mr Holt. All the time I was in these old buildings the school was being added to with a new hall and new office rooms, plus four more classrooms in which through the years I moved into one... Read more
Born A Stone's Throw Away
I was born in 1959 at no 3 Church Green, Hinxton, 3 doors away from the church. I went to this church until I was 6 and I played in the churchyard.
Splashing
I remember walking and splashing in the ford with my family.
In The Footsteps of Dead Poets.
Just out of Trumpington, on the road to Grantchester, was the entrance to an area known as Byron’s Pool, named after Lord Byron who apparently frequented the area whilst at Cambridge University. Probably hoping to find somewhere discrete to make his next sexual conquest from what I’ve read about him since. Once through the clapper gate you made your way through an area of rough woodland that was criss-crossed with footpaths; some major and well trod; others less so with the occasional hazard of stinging nettle or bramble. If you made your way to the river, then walked upstream on the adjacent path, your ears would guide you to the weir, where between the ages of eleven and thirteen, I used to indulge in probably the most foolhardy stunt of my entire life.
The weir was basically a submerged concrete dam, in those days only about ten inches in section at the top, and which spanned most of the entire width of the river;... Read more
