My Days In Rosedale Abbey

A Memory of Rosedale Abbey.

My Life in Rosedale Abbey - Raymond Beharrell

During the last war my brother and I lived in York very near to the main railway yards. The area was always on the target for the German bombers, being railway sidings. Many children were evacuated to safer areas to families who were willing to help. My brother and I were very lucky as my Auntie May (May Taylor) lived in Rosedale Abbey at the time and she told my Mum that she would have us both instead of us going to strangers. I do not remember the actual trip and I would imagine that my mother would have taken us probably to Pickering and then met up with my Aunt. I do not know my actual arrival date but the school has informed me that I started school on 3rd March 1942 and my younger brother started on 3rd May the following year.

I do not remember a whole lot about our stay in Rosedale but there are a few significant memories that I would like to share. When we arrived my Aunt was staying at the Old Vicarage but by the time my brother started school in May 1943 she had moved to 11 Rosedale Abbey (The cottage on the corner of Haygate Lane opposite the Milburn Arms Hotel). When staying at the vicarage I have a memory of the Hot Cross Bun Spiders which built their orb webs across the lawn from the main hedge to small bushes set in a row. They were quite large to me in those days and I remember getting one on a stick and every time it walked to the other end of the stick I would change my grip on the stick so it had to turn round and go back. Of course I got distracted and the next thing I could feel this tickling on my hand and to my horror the spider was crawling on me – it was not dangerous of course but with it’s rather large abdomen it was quite large to a small 8 yr old, I flicked it off as quickly as I could and didn’t try that one again. We had many “adventures” in the nearby wood and I remember our minds were full of all sorts of fantasies as we lived them out in our special play area.

My brother and I had a number of dinky toy cars and on many days at weekends or after school we could be seen playing with them on the large stone blocks on the village green. We used to make roads on the blocks by sprinkling dust on them then sweeping it with a small brush into roads for our cars to travel along. Our Aunt had taught us that we must always sweep the dust off after we finished playing so it was clean for visitors to sit on.

Another activity was when folk from the village would go and walk the various lanes to collect berries for the ladies to make jam which as I remember was then sold for the war effort, or so I believed at the time. There were many happy times collecting the berries and eating them too of course. I remember a small stone building in which the ladies would work on the jams they made, it was situated somewhere near the then butchers shop on the road at the back of the school and church with a small beck running by the side of the road, I wonder if it is still there.

Catching “bull heads” in the stream which ran in the field behind the church, sorry I don’t remember names of streets but I think it is where the caravan park is now. Armed with a big jam jar we would paddle into the stream and lift up rocks to see if any of these small fish were underneath, then a quick grab and it was in our jars after filling them with some of the water from the stream. We also collected tadpoles when they were spawning but I always remember Auntie May would only allow us to keep them a few days before we had to return them to the stream.

Mischief was always not far away and I remember once we pushed a huge log into the stream near the stables at the back of the Milburn Arms Hotel. The owners of the log had to go to great lengths to get it back up the bank with chains and a horse. We of course thought it was great fun but we had been spotted and were reported to Auntie May who took decisive punishment action plus a stern talking to by the log owner.

Many times we used to take the butchers dog for a walk, a lovely black collie who seemed to understand every word you said. We were very naughty once and had “Bob” round up the cows in a field, I wonder if the milk was a bit off that day.

I also remember going for lovely walks up past the old vicarage, past the woods and then across the fields to the left and joining up with the top road and back down in a large circle. When I visited Rosedale as a grownup I would often relive that walk which I enjoyed so much, taking friends with me to enjoy it too, I also remember a walk up Haygate Lane and up to the moors and then back down across fields lower down passing through with many daffodils growing by the side of the stream.

Living in the cottage itself was an adventure with the old wood fired stove on which Auntie May would do all her cooking. We would also sit in front of the fire and toast a lovely thick piece of bread on a toasting fork, then lather it with fresh butter, my mouth waters at the thought. Auntie May loved her garden and she had many flowers and vegetables growing there so there was always help needed from us boys to tend the garden.

I remember the outside toilet and the potty under the bed in case it was needed during the night. One day there was this loud whirring sound and a thump and bang in the field behind the cottage. Apparently there was an artillery range across one moor to the other and this one particular shell fell way out of range. I think the shell was a test fire one and fortunately did not have the full explosive on board. My brother and I were told it was nothing to worry about but I bet there were many questions asked about safety and I remember Auntie May talking to other folk about it.

A regular treat was a shopping trip to Pickering by the local bus service. We spent many happy hours browsing round the shops, especially if there were toys in them. One particularly wet day, on the way home, the bus failed to negotiate one of the steep hills and started to slowly slide backward where there was a rather nasty drop on one side of the road. One of the men on the bus opened the door and jumped out and grabbed one of the large stones off a nearby stone wall and jammed it underneath the rear wheel, that certainly stopped the bus, I hate to think what would have happened to us all if he hadn’t acted so quickly. We all had to walk up the hill so the bus could struggle up on its own and once at the top we were allowed to get back on and nervously take the ride back to Rosedale Abbey. Future trips up that hill were not as enjoyable as they had been in the past.

I certainly enjoyed my time in Rosedale with my Aunt and when I was older and had my own car I would return many times to the place where I had spent so many happy hours. I live in New South Wales in Australia now and very much enjoy my gardening and also lead a team of walkers from our church on regular bush walks once a month, I wonder how much these two activities were influenced by the time spent in Rosedale. I would have liked to have visited once again but I have to be happy with photos and memories, being a pensioner now the cost of a visit to England is out of the question. I am so glad that I have been able to contact the Rosedale History Society and hope my little story is useful and will bring some smiles to folk who read it. If there is anyone who knows me from those days my email is fichrist@pnc.com.au , I would be happy to hear from them.

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