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Midland Red
Cherwell
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361 of 379  Tue 12th Dec 2017 9:17am  
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From British History: Also beyond the wastes of Foleshill were two districts, Tackley to the north-east (later called Hawkesbury), and Henley to the south-east, which seem to have been woodland settlements quite independent of Foleshill village. Three feudal tenants in Tackley were reserved to the manor of Cheylesmore in the Montalts' grant of 1250, and others held small estates there in 1275. John de Nuweres was called lord of Tackley in 1368. Thereafter the descent of the freeholds of Tackley is obscure. Fields there belonging to the priory were for a time in the hands of the Stoke family. Some fields were held by John Nethermill of Exhall, and these and others were held by Sir Henry Beaumont, the mine-owner of Bedworth, in 1618. Some of the same fields formed part of the holding of 300 acres built up after 1650 by the Dyer family, the Goodwin family, and the Lapworth family successively, but then split up about 1790. The two houses — Tolldish Hall and Hawkesbury Hall — which had been built in the area by the 18th century may have had some connexion with the ancient freeholds. One of the two was presumably the house marked in Tackley on a map of 1725. Tolldish Hall, near the Bulkington boundary, was owned by a Richard Richardson in 1724 and 1774. Hawkesbury Hall was so called by 1766–7, and was then occupied by the Parrott family who had been operating mines in this neighbourhood from at least 1721. It was said in 1817 that the property had been bought by the grandfather of Francis Parrott, who then owned it and who had made great improvements to the house and grounds. In 1841 Tolldish Hall was occupied by another Richard Richardson, and Hawkesbury Hall by the same or a second Francis Parrott. Mrs. Elizabeth Fraser of Hawkesbury Hall (daughter of Francis Parrott) was one of the principal landowners in 1850. George Whieldon, the proprietor of Hawkesbury Colliery, and Thomas Worthy also owned land in the area.
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Midland Red
Cherwell
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362 of 379  Tue 12th Dec 2017 9:23am  
Moderator: Joined Jan 2010  Total posts:4879

Of the houses which formerly had some claim to manorial status, only three can now (1964) be identified: Hawkesbury Hall to the north-east of Foleshill and just outside the modern city boundary, Tolldish Hall, 600 yards beyond Hawkesbury Hall, and Foleshill Hall in Lythall's Lane, converted into a public house in the early 20th century. Tolldish Hall is a two-storied timber-framed farmhouse with a tiled roof. It is now in poor repair but structurally has been little altered since it was built in the early or mid 17th century. If the present external plastering were removed it might well prove to be a typical 'black-and-white' house of the period. The main block contains a hall with an entrance and cross passage at its north-east end and an adjoining kitchen. On the opposite side is a 'solar' cross-wing. The hall is entered by a two-storied gabled porch in the centre of the road front and there is a similar small gabled projection at the kitchen end. Several of the upper windows, some now blocked, are slightly splayed oriels supported on console brackets. Hawkesbury Hall, in 1964 partly occupied as a farmhouse, was the 18th- and early-19th-century residence of the Parrott family. It was probably built or enlarged c. 1760. The house is of red brick with stone dressings and consists of a central three-storied block with two-storied side wings, one of the latter altered in the 19th century. The principal entrance was on the north-west side, away from the road, where a three-sided forecourt, flanked by stable and service wings, overlooked the grounds and an ornamental lake. The court was approached from the road by a drive and lodge gates, but little survives of this lay-out. Inside the central block are the remains of panelled rooms, a fine staircase, enriched doorways and chimney-pieces. The style of the fittings suggests a slightly earlier date than 1760 for this part of the house.
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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363 of 379  Tue 12th Dec 2017 3:22pm  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2040

Midland Red. Like I said my aunt moved into Hawkesbury Hall in 1940, so I visited many times, no idea if she died there. Between the two was the Blue Lady Pond (Ghost) but if you got your information from this internet be careful, I suspect there may be mistakes? The farm opposite Tolldish Hall was called The German Farm, no idea why. My biggest regret is that my brother was employed by Woollcombe-Adams of Ansty Hall in the eighties, given the east wing to live in.He showed me around a couple of times, but little time to take notes, this had to be one of the oldest and largest halls around Coventry, had not been altered for centuries to me. Truly magnificent.
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Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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364 of 379  Wed 13th Dec 2017 4:01pm  
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Midland Red. Hi Just to keep things flowing. The article you quoted I believe said the Wyken Colleries ceased all production when the Victoria Pit seam ran out in 1880, no mention on the Craven Pit (named after Lord Craven) that closed in 1927? Couple of things about that area. It was the White Lady Ghost not blue as I said (mixed it up with one near Leeds). About 6 or 7 Coventry lads sat at a table jawing about Cov in a canteen in Palestine, 1947. A new boy walked up. "Hi you bunch from Coventry?" "Sure. You?" "Yeh, well outskirts, place called Parrotts Grove". "You know Cec Lawson?" "No". "You live in Parrotts Grove, don't know Cec Lawson. Whereabouts in Parrotts Grove?" "Grove Farm". "Wow! Larder below ground level?" We went on to discuss the outlay of Grove Farm. Me - "There was a great big grandfather clock, faced you as you entered the front door, back in 31". He - "Still there, my father bought the place lock stock and barrel" "Then he bought it off my relations". 1933/4 time there was a large grass verge on the opposite side of the road just past the 'White Lady' pond. Three kids on bikes noticed something in the ditch, a large paper bag - we looked inside. A new born baby. Two of us went to Tolldish Hall, the other stayed put. The guy phoned the police - after about twenty minutes the local policeman from Bulkington arrived on his bike, went with us to the spot. The policeman looked inside, took the bag to Tolldish Hall, told us we had done right to tell someone, then told us to go home, never asked one name. I believe the police asked for the woman to come forward (Coventry Telegraph).
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Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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365 of 379  Sun 24th Dec 2017 5:03pm  
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I remember Christmas 1946. I was stationed about forty miles outside Jerusalem - this was desolate rocky/sandy wasteland, there was nothing within twenty miles of this camp. A football match was laid on, Sergeants v Officers, in drag, or whatever, there were some friendly punchups, laughs. A sergeant disappeared then came back and stuck a Lewis Machine gun between the goal posts, so an officer went off and came back with a big bag of flour and jammed the works. So the sergeant went off again, came back with a small coil of Danett wire, put in front of the goal. It was now a free for all, friendly football/rugger wrestling match, we all got involved in it, allowed us to let off pent-up steam, without putting anyone out of active service. We all went back into camp to the dining room, had a slap-up meal waited on by the officers, in the evening we had a carol service with all ranks and denominations together.
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Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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366 of 379  Wed 14th Feb 2018 3:27pm  
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In 1947 I was entitled to six weeks leave. This meant travelling back along the 50 year old railway track from Haifa, Palestine, to Port Said in Egypt. We walked past the bank that had received the terrorist attack that I had survived and into the station - amid the sun-shafts that stabbed into the darkest corners the sweat running in my clothes began to show through. We boarded the rickety old train and started our long journey, the wooden slatted seats burning into us like thousands of British men before us. At Port Said we boarded the "Dunnottar Castle" troopship for a 9 day voyage to Southampton - we left immediately. While the ship was moving it was cooler - we were shown to berths for night space, daytime we had the freedom of most of the ship. But it was evening time that was so delightful, tramping up and down the wet decks under the glorious stars. It also had a ships library. I began to read a Neville Shute book. One of the crew asked me if I knew anything of the author. I said "Not a thing". "Well, I met him", he replied, "told me his name was Neville Shute Norway, but dropped the Norway for his books. He was a 'boffin', worked on hush-hush stuff during the war". I found this to be true years after. When we turned the point of Gibraltar we changed into warmer gear. I never went back to my unit, a telegram gave me a new camp in Aldershot. PS. Lots more to this story - but space?
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Rob Orland
Historic Coventry
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367 of 379  Wed 14th Feb 2018 8:12pm  
Webmaster: Joined Jan 2010  Total posts:1309

Space Kaga? It's limited only by the extent of your memories - there's room for literally a million more like this! Keep 'em coming!
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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368 of 379  Thu 15th Feb 2018 9:44am  
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Thank you Rob. Cheers
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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369 of 379  Sun 18th Feb 2018 6:15pm  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2040

Sept 1950. Towards six-thirty in the morning I was awakened by a babble of voices, and hurrying footsteps. I opened my eyes, and I was staring into the lovely dark eyes of a teenage girl who was watching me intently from her bed less than two-feet from me. A hive of joyous naughtiness swept over me. 'Bonjour Monsieur' she whispered. 'Bonsieur', I stammered. I was in limbo. There was more shouting outside - a girl came into the hut and screeched at my new found friend. I had no idea what was being said. The girl swung her legs to the other side of the bed, donned a blouse and shorts, picked up a few pieces and was gone. The room was empty. I took some money (notes) out of my boot and slipped it into the pocket of my shorts, donned my boots and army pullover, collected my bits and went outside in time to see a lorry full of young people disappear round a bend in the driveway. Two middle aged men were sitting at a wooden table drinking wine. A few days before, I felt the need to shake Coventry out of my hair for a bit and replace it with something a little more adventurous so I joined the YHA, caught train and ferry to Hyères-Toulon, Southern France, to where the army had sent me four years ago. From there I walked the goat paths along the hill-tops, over looking the beautiful Mediterranean Sea. Five miles on I then saw a sign - it dawned on me this area had not been officially cleared from wartime explosives. How stupid of me - I slowed down, picking my way carefully until reaching St Tropez late at night. One of the two men had showed me to the bed in the hut late last night. Now he explained to me - the camp was full of grape pickers, that's what the lorry was for. He took my money and signed my YHA card, and shook his head when he realised where I had walked. St Tropez had a pebble stoney beach so I caught the train to Cannes.
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Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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370 of 379  Sun 25th Feb 2018 10:38am  
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A new Captain joined our outfit. It quickly became clear he was down to earth and a nice guy, only about 5' 6" 150lbs weight. The story was he had been a prisoner of war of the Japanese, escaped and spent months in the jungle getting back to British lines. Sent home to recover then on to us. He started a voluntary school, teaching a kind of unarmed combat and wrestling called Ju-Jitsu, just a piece of canvas on the loose earth, about a dozen joined, after a few months it dwindled down to two of us. But my leave for England came up, and the Captain was on the same train, his demob. On the boat we met again, he was excited about a horse he had at home, being trained for him, he told me the horse would win a Gold Cup, he also told me a story. During WWI a group of wounded soldiers with three officers were sent to a casualty clearing station in a French chateau just behind the lines, but the chateau came under a barrage of heavy artillery gun-fire. Everyone was killed except the three officers who had gone down into the wine cellar, but the gunfire had torn open a safe that spilled out money, jewellery and documents. Two of the officers not seriously hurt managed to smuggle the money and jewellery home to Osborne House hospital, leaving the third officer more seriously wounded - he was sent to a hospital in Scotland. A buff envelope from the officer in Scotland, in 1920 just before he died, to his wife contained a letter to be passed on to his son when he reached the age of 18. The son of course was the Captain. He also requested his son to try and win a special horse race. The Captain received the letter in 1945 when his mother died. The horse was called Under The Clock, and did win the 1948 Military Gold Cup at Sandown and started me off becoming a gambler.
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Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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371 of 379  Wed 4th Apr 2018 11:51am  
Member: Joined Sep 2014  Total posts:2040

Lester Piggott was known as poker face by newspaper reporters, he said little. In the early days of 1956 I read in the sporting papers that Noel Murless had a world class two-year old racehorse in training, named Crepello - this world beater stuff happened often in the racing game. I stood in the stands on the day of the race, I watched Piggott's face through my binoculars more than the horse. Throughout the race Piggott looked comfortable to me but he seemed to be nursing it instead of driving it out in the end, and he was beaten - fav backers booed him. At home later I searched the papers for more information, found the horse had tender tendons, its forelegs bandaged, Piggott had nursed it. Nevertheless I backed it for its next race at ante-post, at short odds. The day of the race once again I was in the stands, my bins on Piggott - they had hardly gone a furlong and a jockey seemed to bump into Piggott, knocking him towards the other side of the track. To me Piggott's face changed and try as he might he was beaten, again he was booed. I had lost money, but I thought he had been deliberately impeded, then I asked myself, did I read it right? Am I a bad loser? As the lad went to meet him Piggott's face looked furious, he said hardly two words - in the United saddling enclosure, he leant down and said something to the trainer, unsaddled and disappeared quickly. There was no stewards enquiry, it had happened early on. About ten days later the jockey I had suspected of foul play was on a red hot fav, and I got sneaky, would Piggott do a dirty? I took a chance, and backed both the second and third fav at good prices. The race began and the fav was lying in a good place to win but suddenly Piggott came up alongside and pushed the fav onto the rails and kept him there for some time. The crowd were going mad, booing and shouting, meanwhile the second and third favs were racing for the line - I was cheering my head off, either could win for me. Piggott was booed off the track, but had half a smile on his face. The stewards called an enquiry that did not include the first and second or the result, just Piggott - he was banned for some time. 1957 and Piggott was back on Crepello, I backed him at ante-post for his next race and the Derby. He won both comfortably. He was then retired and sent to stud. Yes, he would have been a world beater if he had had good tendons.
Our Kaga
Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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372 of 379  Mon 9th Apr 2018 11:59am  
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Hilaire Belloc was a writer and Member of Parliament around 1900. I picked up his book "The Four Men" from a second hand book shop in Coventry - when I read it in 1949 it reminded me of a tale about a pub crawl made by my grandfather's brother and handed down to the family. I spoke to my granddad to re-tell the story. His brother had been in the Wyken Pippin, had a few pints, and with no horse he decided to walk home. He walked over Stoke Heath, everywhere covered in gorse, dog roses, long grass and dying wild flowers. He came to Bell Green Road, turned right, had a couple of pints in the Weavers Arms - from there over the fields by the Old Church of St Laurence to Windmill Lane and the Crown pub, down the little lane at the side of the pub, across the fields and waded through the River Sowe (now Longford Park) to the Fox Inn. A pint there and up Grange Road to the Boat Inn - here there were several boat people that he knew. Several drinks, he staggered to the Greyhound pub at Sutton Stop - more friends and more beer, until they closed. He now had to cross the lock gates of the canal - everyone watched with bated breath. Now he staggered across the gorse fields of Parrotts Grove to home.
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Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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373 of 379  Sat 14th Apr 2018 10:20am  
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THE CUCKOO The general belief that the cuckoo sits on other birds nests and lays an egg - not so, the cuckoo lays its egg on the ground then carries it into any nest whose young are fed with insects. The cuckoo has a peculiar beak so it can carry the egg with closed beak and insert it in any shape of nest. It is a mistake to say it only lays only one egg. The cuckoo is held in aversion by other birds, and small birds will collect together to chase it from the area.
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Heathite
Coventry
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374 of 379  Sat 14th Apr 2018 1:10pm  
Member: Joined Aug 2012  Total posts:425

That's quite a trek, no wonder he needed refreshment. It's about 3.70 miles and no easy going over scrub, gorse, and a river.
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Kaga simpson
Peacehaven, East Sussex
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375 of 379  Sun 15th Apr 2018 11:18am  
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Heathite, that's a nice little map, thank you. He was a boatman, before they had engines, therefore he walked that distance most days driving the horse - as you can see he is close to the canal all the way.
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