Rainow, the Rising Sun c1965

Nostalgia

Our family lived at Jackson Brow in Pott Shrigley. We were living in No. 2 when the war was declared in 1939 and we listened to this on an old Lissen radio which required two dry batteries and one wet accumulator to run. A year later we moved to No. 1 which was the house at the front. (It has been modernized from our days when it was a 2up/2down with no running water, no electricity and the 'petty', a good old northern word, was at the end of the garden.) My Dad at that time worked down the pit at Hammond's brick works. In 1940 I won a scholarship to go to Kings School, Macclesfield where this village lad mixed with the more fortunate.

Being wartime we had to work and my younger brother and I worked at Pott Hall Farm where we picked potatoes, thinned and fashed turnips, milked cows and went hay making. The farmer was a fiery tempered, red haired man of Irish descent by the name of Bill Boond - but he taught me how to work - 9 pence (old money) an hour, and this has never left me and sixty five years later I am still working.

The picture is taken from the field leading to the Nab Woods, looking towards the church. In 1955 I had long left the village but my brother, I am sure, would have still been milking some of the cows that are peacefully grazing in the fields.

An idyllic life for two youngsters and one could write a book about it all, maybe I will some day.

I joined the Army in 1946 and in 1947 the village lad again rubbed shoulders with his betters when he was commissioned into the RAOC in August 1947. The army then made the mistake of sending me overseas to East Africa and after the very harsh winter of 1947 to land in Mombasa, Kenya to the sight of blue seas and skies, waving palm trees and white sands fixed me for good. I have lived in England for only two years since then, the last 37 years have been spent in Seychelles.

Approaching 80 I still am nostalgic when I see photos of the English countryside and want once again to walk on the moors in summer ( if you ever have one) and listen to the larks, curlews and peewits and just lie in the grass and remember.

My email is southernregistrars@gmail.com if anyone should read this memory and wish to say a few words to me.

Bill Jackson

broken cross post office

my parents owned the piost office from about 1958-1965 - their names were albert (bill) edward wild and dorothy emma wild and the inscription on the board read "AE and DE Wild" before they owned it , it belonged to Vera and Dennis Eaton . my Dad died in 1964 and then my Mum sold the business on and moved back to Derby. i went to henbury primary school and sang at henbury church. My freinds at that school were Alan Goodwin and Susan Windsor - whose Mum was the lollipop lady for the school. my Mum opened a wool shop at one end. opposite the post office was the Pack Horse Inn and further into the village was a very small village primary school. Joe and Audrey Barlow owned the green grocery shop. i remember the bank next door and the break in. i was about 7 at the time and remember the robbers got away across our garden and i found lots of money under the trees and in the grass and got a reward for it from the local police. - i told my parents that money did grow on trees. i used to love roller skating down the hill outside the post office and swinging into fallibroome road.

Quest for my ain folk

I visited St Peter's in August 1976 as part of a search for traces of my ancestors, the De Vauxs of Adlington, French Hugenots who first settled from France, in 1630. They became Yeomen farmers on the Leghs Adlington estate and stayed there until late 1890's. A number of them lie buried in a crypt next to the Leghs lair. I met the Verger who kindly opened the Church old registers to discover entries of my ancestors. My Grand Mother, Elizabeth Jane Vaux, lived at Hope Green, married my Grand father, James Kerr Bell, son of James Bell, co-founder of the famous Glasgow printing house of Bell and Bain now a public company est 1831.  I am born an Australian from my father, who was born at the Grange, Handforth, Lancashire in 1879 and after World War 1 emigrated to Australia where en route he met my mother and they fell in love and both settled down here in Melbourne, Victoria. Accompanying me in 1976 was my wife Merlyn whose pioneer family came out to Bendigo in the mid 1850's during the Gold Rush. Her family were Trembaths from St Just, Cornwall. With us was our young daughter Angela at the time, 41/2 yrs old. My two aunts, who grew up in Adlington estate at Marlsfield Farm, both knew Prestbury intimately. In fact, it was through them, that we made sure to visit Prestbury, especially the then Priests house which was later converted into a bank. We dined that night at Oscars restuarant on roast duckling. Recently, I purchased a CD from the Baroque Music Club of a Grand Concert conducted in the great Hall of Adlington Hall in celebration of Handel, who once played the organ there designed by Bernard Smith (1670) who also designed organs for  St Paul's and Westminister Abbey. In a special collection called the Vaux Collection housed in the Chester archives, there are records of proceedings in court of matters involving members of the Vauxs, in particular, Thomas Vaux who was a wine merchant and relied on a carter with a horse drawn lorry, named William Pickford ancestor of the famous Pickfords world wide transport firm. There is record of a case against Pickfords for damage to a batch of wines they were delivering for Thomas. The sums were not inconsiderable for the times. This occurred about the early 19th century. So Prestbury has a very special and unique place in our hearts as that is where an important part of my British, French heritage lies along with that of other parts of England, Scotland and also in New Zealand through my Uncle Archibald Kerr Bell and his three Maori wives and 26 children all Maori Scots. I am the annoited paternal head of this quite amazing dynasty. My Uncle was born at the Grange in 1883 and died in North Island, NZ in 1961.  My father, a World War Captain, Royal Horse Artillery, First Cavalry division lies buried in a rustic cemetery at Sorrento, with my mother, a Londoner, with the sound of the surf breaking on the reefs and the gulls circling over head, near where Harold Holt, our Prime Minister drowned in December 1967.  As I write these memories, here in a place called Carnegie, I have that inner warmth of knowing that such a  place as Prestbury with St Peter's occupies a special place in my heart. We have a crest 3 bells gold on a blue shield with the motto "sois fidele, be faithful. Ring true.  Thank you for allowing me to share some of my memories with your patrons. I hope they will resonate with a number of admirers of your unique heritage village.

John Adshead - Exercising the dogs

It was a common site to see John Adshead cycling to work from Gawsworth New Hall to the Lonsdale & Adshead brewery on Park Green Macclesfield. There was a driver and car available at the house, but it was usually the bike that got John to work. The dogs ! No they were not running alongside the cycle, they were tucked into John's coat. The brewery was sold in 1950, about 10 years before this picture was taken.

Disley Primary School

When I went to the school we had our dinners in a room downstairs and heaven help you if you cheeked the dinner ladies. The Headmaster's son at the time, Michael Roe, did and he got a real telling off and probably the cane too! I also vividly remember standing at assembly waiting to hear the result of the 11+ exam. White envelopes meant failure, buff a pass but some of us lived in villages and the post did not arrive until we had got to school. I remember the joy and disbelief when I was told I had passed. It was also sad as I was the only one going to Macclesfield County High School and everyone else was off to Marple or Stockport. Happy memories also of trying to explore the old air raid shelter!