Phoenix Green, Hampshire

Living in

When I moved to live on the Cricket Green with my parents in 1947, the previous tenants were called Bacon, and for many years afterwards, people would say "Oh you live in Bacons' old house" - my mother would seethe!  My brother Richard was born in 1948 and our younger brother Patrick arrived in 1950, always doing his own thing, and was delivered by my mother on the kitchen floor - the baby born in a bucket, as he was reminded for many years.  When I married in 1965 at St Thomas More RC Church in Mildmay Terrace, we borrowed a piano from the Stewart family at Longfield Cottage - ours was the second wedding held at the church.  Many happy memories of childhood and beyond of Hartley Wintney - my children spent many holidays with their grandparents, playing on the green, feeding the ducks on Causeway Pond and blackberrying on Hazeley Heath with their Grandma Vaughan.  I learned to score for cricket matches, something I thoroughly enjoyed until marrying my sailor Michael and moving away - but often returning to be with my family.  My parents are remembered by we three siblings  with a seat in the Millennium Orchard on Hunts Common; another close by is in memory of Richard who died aged 56 in 2005, leaving a loving family; we have come to love this orchard, a project dreamed up by Patrick when he was Parish Clerk to the village, a job he thoroughly enjoyed doing.  Sadly Patrick died of cancer in August 2008 - his funeral at St John's was joyful and attended by so many friends, family and colleagues, followed by a wake at the Cricket Clubhouse on the Green, yards from "Bacons old house" where he lived for almost 58 years.

Today Mike and I drove to the Apple Day celebration in Victoria Hall, meeting our daughter and her two children, Ruth Vaughan (Richard's widow) their two daughters and three grandchildren - Pat's death is still raw, but we all talked about him and later went to the orchard, which is where Patrick's ashes will eventually be scattered. I am so very fortunate to have been connected with Hartley Wintney for sixty years. Still known by my maiden name - YOU know, that Heather Vaughan who married a sailor!   Incidentally, our home is clearly seen in the 1960 picture of the Cricket Green - I can see the porch built by my father.

Emma Jane's Birthplace

My G.Granny was EMMA JANE SUMNER, she was born at Rotherwick, Hampshire on 1st. January 1866. This lady made a great impression on me and I used to visit her at her home in Tilehurst, Berkshire as a child. Jane, as she was known, was around 6 feet tall and had a very regal appearance with her silver white hair coiled high on her head. I last visited her at 'Iona', Firs Road, Tilehurst when she was 80 years old and a few months before her death. She gave me a brooch from her dress which I had admired and this I will treasure always.

Ken's Memories

My husband and I took his father, Ken Benwell, back to North Warnborough today, for his 90th birthday. He was born on 25th April 1919 and lived there until he was three years old. He then moved to Suffolk with his parents. He has never been back since.
He recognised Perrys Cottages straight away, as the place where his grandparents once lived. He also remembered the football field, which backed onto the cottage where he used to live with his parents. Sadly the cottage was no longer there.
He was delighted to visit the ruined castle, where his mother used to take him and where he would 'fish' for tiddlers in the stream.
All in all, it was a super day and he thoroughly enjoyed his birthday treat.
Sue Benwell.

Chalk Pit & the Hunt

Julian's hunt story is almost right. I was living at the Chalk Pit at the time, and still do. It was about 1981, on a Saturday lunchtime, when the hunt came over the top, but it wasn't on Boxing Day.  The hounds were chasing Hares.  The leader of the hunt knew there was a main road so directed the hunt across the field.  The Hare was chased through a hole in the hedge at the top of the Pit, and the dogs followed through.  From about 34 dogs they lost 18. Mr Cleverley, the local vet, had the sad task of ministering to the injured dogs.  To my amazement the Kennel Maid knew every dog by name, and sat in our barn with the survivors.  I've not seen a dog hunting near the Pit since, though we have had dogs fall over the top.  And, on one sad day, a local man fell to his death.
Some of the buildngs in this photograph still survive, as we live in one.