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Nether Wallop, West End c1955
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Nether Wallop, West End c1955 Ref: N156006
Memories of Nether Wallop, West End
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Year: 1941
Water Colour Painting
I have two beautiful original water colour paintings of Nether Wallop. One is of St Andrews Church and the other is of a thatched cottage leading up to the church. Both are signed E Flower 41 and I was hoping someone may be able to help me find out more about this artist. Posted: 02/01/2008 13:54 by Peter Barclay |
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 Nether Wallop, the Square c1955 (ref: N156001) |
Year: 1986
The Square
I was the village policeman, 1986-1991. I used to stand on the bridge in the photograph on the days of a wedding to ensure the newly-weds could get out onto the main road without waiting, and to help guests leave 'in convoy' where necessary so as to follow each other to the reception. Weddings often attracted guests 'from the city' who would invariably still be driving around an hour later, having got lost 'in the country'! On a sadder note, I would do the same on the occasion of a funeral at St Andrews to allow the chief mourners to be on their way without any hold-up. Each year, the square was the scene of the church bazaar, I would invariably look after the bric-a-brac stall, the leftovers I'd take back to the beat house for collection by the dustmen. They must have wondered why I cleared out an entire attic every year..... The arrival of the 'Miss Marple' BBC crew saw the Square adorned with a glass-fibre Butter Cross. Times were that the old red telephone box was a contemporary scene filler, but when it was spirited away and replaced by a yellow monstrosity it had to be disguised. I made the glass-fronted parish notice board fixed to the wall of the village hall that would be directly behind the photographer, arranged and approved by Fred Mouland, then Chair of the PC. Memories! Posted: 22/12/2007 17:19 by Doug Dickson |
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Nether Wallop, the Square c1955 (ref: N156001) |
Year: 1940s
The Old Thatch
Ah, The Old Thatch. I remember it well, for this is where I grew up from the early 1940s until 1956. By today's standards it was grim: no heating, no running water, no flush loo - nothing. Yet it was a wonderful place in which to grow up and I will never lose my love for that old cottage. I still visit Nether Wallop whenever I can. Yes, that is indeed the Rev Hyne-Davy in the picture, as Eileen Wilmott says, but I have an idea that photo was taken by my father, who dabbled in a bit of village photography. I may be wrong: it may have been taken by Mr Hinwood. How well I remember the Hinwoods at the Post Office and filling station opposite, and the smell of freshly-baked bread each morning. And from just down the road the not-so-pleasant memory of the squealing of the occasional pig being slaughtered at Vigors, the butchers. But that was how life was. Immediately behind The Old Thatch was Hawkesworth's the grocers, then next to them was Boultons hardware and haberdashery etc, while right on the end was Miss Colgate's rather ramshackle fruit and veg shop. Doubt it would get past health and safety now, but we managed OK. Another thing I'll always remember is old Jock the roadsweeper. Lovely old guy. Every Christmas morning, before dawn, he would go round the village playing carols on his trumpet. There was something so wondrous and haunting about that sound. The Old Thatch is obviously now a very different house from how it was then - at least on the inside. Before we had mains water there was a hand-pump by the kitchen sink, and I remember now and again we used to get the odd worm or two pumped up. And when the river was high you could see the water very clearly between the floorboards in the living room. It never quite came over them, but it got very close. Moulands, the village builders, had to attend to things on more than one occasion. I remember the bedroom my parents slept in had the most incredible sloping floor - at least six inches from one end to the other - and the floorboards were from old ships, and very uneven. My father was a frequent visitor to The Five Bells, where he would meet and drink with the likes of Bill Muspratt and Charlie Purdue - and invariably come home late for lunch, risking the wrath of my mother. That could be a tense situation... I think the fondest memory I have of Nether Wallop is that of the actor James Roberston Justice's mother. She lived at what used to be Pyles Farm just up the hill past the Methodist Chapel, where my grandmother used to worship, and would always let me and a couple of friends have the run of her garden. She was having a lot of landscaping done at the time and we used to have a great time watching the bulldozers at work. It was there that I met a friend of hers, 'Chunky' Horne, who was a test pilot at Chilbolton for Supermarines. I was crazy about aircraft (still am), so it was very exciting to hear Chunky telling us about his flying on the prototypes of the Swift. Chunky was very handsome and drove an amazing Delage car with a long louvred bonnet. Every boy's idea of a hero. The day before I started public school, and feeling very miserable, Mrs Justice gave me an iced chocolate sponge she made for me. That was September 1956, but to this day I can recall the taste and texure of that cake. She was a lovely lady. Nether Wallop has changed so much - and yet so much remains the same. For me it will always be close to my heart. Halcyon days. Last edited: 05/02/2007 05:34 by Brian Rivas |
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Nether Wallop, the Square c1955 (ref: N156001) |
Year: 2002
Now
Do you see the thatch cottage by the bridge? My son and daughter-in-law and our grandchildren now live there, since 2002. It is such a lovely place to bring up children I would love to hear from anyone who could let us know any history to their house. Last edited: 17/01/2007 21:55 by Josephine Green |
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Year: 1947
First memories
My father, Richard (Dick) Cherrington was the village policeman in Nether Wallop during World War 2 and I was born in the Police House in the village in August 1944. My first memories ever were of an apple tree in our garden which my brother could climb and I couldn't - I was not very happy about that! I recently went back to the village and met the former village blacksmith and his brother. They both remembered my father, especially as he turned up at the smithy's brother's wedding reception uninivited whilst he was on duty! He had a piece of cake a cup of tea and left. If I could afford it I would buy a house and go back there to live but unfortunately the "weekend" house owners have forced the prices up so I can no longer afford it. But it is still a lovely village. Posted: 07/11/2006 09:13 by Adrian Cherrington |
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