Sister Enid Butlers Orphanage

A Memory of Hinton Martell.

I was a child that lived at the 'Sister Butler's orphanage' in the early I960s.  This message is to anyone that was also at the orphanage at that time, particularly Alison Burbidge, as I have read her account stating that Alison would have been at the orphanage at the same time as me. I have a lot of memories of the Hinton Martell, and the orphanage, such as the school over the road from the orphanage run by two sisters, we all sat on long benches. We had slates and chalk to write on, the slate had a small wood frame, I'm not joking. In the class we had a big pot-belly stove in one corner, and a picture of the Queen on the wall. I remember from the road outside the school, looking up the main street away from the village, tall trees on both sides of the road and one of them on the orphanage side was a big cherry tree. I can remember the Gipsies selling pegs on the road outside the gate at the orphanage, and they had a painted caravan drawn by a horse. The Gipsies lived in the woods not far out of the village. I remember the small sweet shop on the same side of the road as the orphanage, going to the village. I can remember seeing the old man in the shop making a cone out of paper to put the sweets in, this shop must have been a garage because it had one of those flat round wind plate signs outside the shop. I can remember the old fountain, and sitting on the side of it on a hot day. I can't think why the winter of 1963 could have done any harm to it. I can remember the rooks in the thatched roof of the orphanage, and in winter as we all lined up to cross the road to the school, the small milk bottles in their crates were always frozen so much that the silver tops would be on top of a lump of frozen milk. Every night before bed we had to drink cocoa, I hate cocoa, and I can't think why we were made to drink something like that before bed.
The orphanage must have employed people from outside the village, because I remember a French girl working for a short time. I saw my first TV at the orphanage, ''Dr Who, and ''Z Cars". Ali, yes, I remember potty time, and all of us sitting on our pots. I have a story for you. I for some reason started bed wetting, and was given a hard time for it one morning I woke all wet and just stayed in bed until everyone had gone down to breakfast, I think so they wouldn't know. Up came Sister Butler's mother, a lovely lady in her nineties. She smiled and sent me down to breakfast. When I got down everyone was looking at me, but before anyone started to tell me off for bed wetting there was a loud bump noise from upstairs. I just stood still as everyone in the room ran past me and up to see that Sister Butler's mother had dropped dead changing my sheets.
All these memories and more have come flooding back after finding yesterday on the internet, where 'Sister Butler's orphanage' was. I was taken away one night by two people to London, and they told me they were my mother and father, and after the assaults from my father it wasn't long before I wanted to go back. I ran away from home one night. My father found me. When I said where I was going it was made very clear to me that I was never to say another word about Sister Butler's.
Hinton Martell is a beautiful little village with green fields, cottages with thatched roofs and bunny rabbits, but it has a past, a very dark past in its orphanage. It has a connection to Australian history, just as the Dorset town of Tolpuddle, because some children from that orphanage were sent to Australia. We weren't all orphans, and we don't know where we came from or who we are. I am not the only one, and our story should be told. If anyone knows anything that they think would be of interest please write to my email bigheads565@gmail.com.au  I would be happy to talk or help anyone with information to do with the orphanage.
Mark Allan Smith