Hessenford

A Memory of Hessenford.

I was so pleased to come across a site talking about 'my' family village of Hessenford. I was also evacauated to Hessenford with my mum and spent my 1st birthday there. This was the first of many August holidays with my Great Aunt Dorah and Great Uncle Dick (known as Farmer & Mrs Nicholls but who's surname was actually Nicholas) who were the tenant farmers of Hessenford Farm. The white porch of the farmhouse is shown on the 1st Hessenford postcard and Uncle Dick is the small figure leaning on a wall, talking I think to Mr or Mrs Pierce. Our visits to Hessenford were made in a friends car, my Dad in those days only had a van as he was a painter & decorator, and we were always greeted by Albert Morrish, sythe in hand as he cleared the hedgerow just outside the village.- he always knew when we would be arriving and was on look-out. As the school holidays didn't quite line up with Kent school holidays I always spent my first couple of days at the village school with my friends from the village. I remember Jenny Jones, Shirley Alford her cousin Jenny Alford & Margaret Cloake who I am still in contact with. I also remember a some of the boys - Dick Alford and Roger & George Alford. We rarely went anywhere during the 2 week holiday except to see more relations in Plymouth and to Liskard market on Tuesdays as my dad, Les, together with our friend Arthur Baldwin, just liked helping out on the farm. My mum Dora Noakes was the niece of Dorah Nicholls and had been coming to Hessenford to visit her Grandparents who were farmers at South Bake (or it may have been Bake) Farm for many years but I only knew my great grandmother as a formidable old lady in her nineties, always dressed in black, who thought me a 'dear little boy' - my name by the way is Judy. Great grandfather as well as being a farmer had also been the village tooth-puller and I still have the two torturous looking tooth pulling tools.
Childhood was spent roaming the farms woods and lanes around Hessenford, so much freedom in those days made for very happy days. I remember that the porch of the farmhouse was filled with jugs and metal cans of milk each morning and which were collected by the village folk during the day. Mum and I were allowed to go and get the cows in each morning - apparently I showed no fear and even walked underneath them much to the horror of all. A tray of pasties were delivered once a week I think from Callington and these were also collected during the day. Sunday was Chapel for us. Uncle was the Sunday School Superintendant. Mum gave Bessie Huntley a rest sometimes by playing the organ and 'singing out of tune' - she didn't really but she always sung alto so it came as a bit of a shock to the rest of the congregation. Sunday school meant that mum and I always taught any new 'action songs' which we had learnt back at our own church in Gillinghan in Kent - Jesus wants me for a sunbeam etc. Mary Sandy Mrs Sandy Albert & Annie Morrish Bessie Bunny are also names I remember from the village and I think they were all chapel folk. Also I remember that we went I think to Granny Alfords after sunday school for hot roasted potatoes. There was also the church folk, among them Uncle Dick's sisters Mrs Elsie Kitt and Joyce ( I can't remember her surname) Uncle Ern and his son George lived at the top of the village and of course I remember Mrs Pote, who lived in the house adjoining Hessenford Farm and her son Gerald The Peters family, the Painters and the Moons.The Copley Arms was run by Mr Lightfoot who was, I believe, being in his 90's the oldest Landlord in England. Unfortunatly, being strict Methodist we weren't allowed to go in the pub. In actual fact even after I was married my husband and I can remember going out in the pitch dark at 9 0'clock in the evening, and instead of admitting that we were going to the pub to Uncle Dick, we said we were going 'for a walk'. The Chapel and the Church were always the heart of the village with social events harvest festivals with their auction of fruit and veg etc. I can remember a quarter of a pound packet of tea being sold for a very high amount to raise Chapel funds. Then there were the Sankey evenings and the monologue evenings. My Auntie Dorah used to read Jan Stewer stories -' When the parlour was papered'. 'When electricity came to the village' etc. but she used to change the names in the book to real people in the village. I still have three of these books which are written in the Cornish dialect,with the pencil changes made by Auntie in the margins. I was in my late teens when my darling Auntie Dorah died, by that time they had retired and moved from the farmhouse to Bickham Cottage which is situated at the top of Bickham Farm's yard behind the Mill. Uncle Dick & Dave Cloake had so many yarns to tell each other, they were never at a loss for words. We still came, of course each year to visit Uncle Dick, but those early years with both of them were years filled with such laughter. I hope to visit again soon, but unfortunatly my husband Malcolm died a few weeks ago so there won't be so many visits as were hoped for, but thankfully I have the memories. I don't know if anyone will read this but I must say I have enjoyed remembering so many people and events.