Tregony memories
Here are memories of Tregony and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Tregony or a Tregony photo.
Penlee Stores, Fore Street, Tregoney
I was born in the same bedroom as my father at Penlee Stores, a little shop (now long gone) opposite Penlee House. My grandfather started the business, he was what is termed a hawker. He travelled the Roseland peninsula selling from his horse and cart anything anyone wanted or needed. His name was Stephen James Lidgey, known as Steve Lidgey. When he died, my father Leo Lidgey took over the business, and he and my mother ran it for many years.
The Lidgey name has now gone from Tregoney but in my childhood there were many who bore the name Lidgey. The first Lidgey in Tregoney was a George, born in Redruth in 1735, who married a Tregoney girl, Jane Dyer, on 30th September 1755 at St Cuby Church. My sister still lives in Tregoney with her children, under her married name. I, after my divorce, returned to my maiden name Lidgey. I was born a Lidgey and I will die a Lidgey.
Childhood Memories
My granny and grandfather owned this house also, we always called it Fairpark House. My grandfather's brother hanged himself in the back kitchen. My granny died there. I know the house very well. My gran, two aunts and uncle lived there. I have many, many happy memories of Fairpark House. It was called Isis House when my granny bought it. I remember everything about the house and gardens. Chickens were kept in the old Fairpark field behind the house. I loved feeding them with Uncle Stan or Aunty Win, and collecting eggs. What happy times.
Town Clock
I am tracing my family history, and one of the stories that I have come across is that one of my ancestors Richard Eva 1734-1806 made the clock for Tregony, and have been told the story that it was hidden to save it from being sold to Australia, I was also told that the clock survived as part of a pigsty on a farm and was found in 1961, but was found too late as it had recently been sent to a scrap yard.
Tregony Clock Tower
The clock tower has two dates on it - one from the original building, and one from when it was restored. Apparently the village council sold the clock to a visiting Australian who wanted to take it back to his country. The villagers were outraged, dismantled the clock overnight, and hid it in a local field for twenty years until they were sure it was safe. Ealing comedy via Cornwall! I lived in the house in the photo, so the clock is very dear to my heart.
Memories of Cornwall
Heritage 1910 to 1920
My Dad grew up in Portholland, one of seven children. There were five boys and the stories he could tell. The boys would go out at night and splash water on windows and the next day listen to the residents talk about the storm during the night. They also went out in the morning and made the ladies come to the front door by shouting "fish for sale". The funniest was the boys putting sheets over themselves at night and gliding around as ghosts. That must have been something back in those days. My grandmother caught them one day because of mud on the sheets and told them not to do that any more because if the squire found out he would kick them out of the house. Maybe that was just a threat from their mother. I would like to think that the squire would think it just as funny as I think it is.
I know which house they lived in... Read more
My Time in Portloe 1962
I was married in Veryan Church on 4th August 1962 to Michael Henry Symons Blamey and we lived in Rose Cottage in Portloe after our marriage. Our son Andrew Mark was born in 1963 and towards the end of 1963 I moved back to Birmingham which is where I originally came from. I remember the winter of 1962 as a particularly bad one, the local bus had to have chains on its wheels in order to get in and out of Portloe, and I spent most of that winter pregnant and trying desperately to save the many frozen birds by keeping them warm on the Rayburn and trying to feed them without success. We had to get our water from the Ship Inn, the local pub. I also remember very windy nights when the men were called out to winch the boats further up the beach and the smoke blowing down the chimney and coating the walls of the living room with soot. Occasionally I would go out in Papa's... Read more
My Fathers Birthplace.
My father Cornelius Henry Johns (Naily to everyone who knew him) was born in the little Round House on the left of the photo. He was the youngest of a large family, and there were 11 people living there in 1899. They then moved to Caragloose Farm, where his father and older brothers worked for Colliver Blamey. Colliver lived at Pennare Wallace. As soon as he was old enough my father started work on the farms with his father and two older brothers, Arch and Tom Johns. Jim, the eldest of the boys, by this time had married and was living at Camels. At the outbreak of the Great War, Arch, Tom, Naily and cousin Jack Johns all signed on for the duration of the war. Luckily all four came home, the three brothers back to work on the farms and Jack went back to his work. Lots of others were not so lucky. The women and old men kept the farms going during the war with two old horses... Read more
Holidays With Owners Ruth And Norman Jeffries
We stayed as a family at the Crown Inn many times. We loved the pub and the village and local people. Hope to re-visit. I believe that Ruth lives next door.
Post Office
My gran ran the post office from before I was born, her name was Mrs Pooley. When she retired my Uncle Eric and his wife Dorothy took it over until they too retired. I visited the village about four years ago when I found that the post office had been renovated into a private dwelling. The owners of the property very kindly allowed my sister and I to have a look around, it bought back a lot of lovely childhood memories. Forge Cottage, next door, was where my gran lived with her daughter and her family, David, Peter, Geraldine, and my mum Mavis. My mum moved up to Nottinghamshire where she met my dad. They married in the village church across the road in 1953, I was christened in the village church on Boxing Day 1954.
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