| MY CHILDHOOD DAYS
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"If you ask adults about the happiest memories of play, they will seldom mention parks, but they will recall the vacant lot, the secret places behind billboards or hoardings".
Herman Mattern / Berlin Playgrounds.
"Whatever we do, children will always play on the streets, on the docklands and the railways, just as they always have played in the fields, barns and haystacks". "The point is that surely these activities are age old and can no more be stopped than the child themselves can be stopped from growing. If this is so, then surely too, it is our job to provide clubs, playgrounds and leaders, not only covering a wide range of interests, but also at places and in situations where they are needed".
Joe Benjamin / Adventure Play Leader.
"Children will play everywhere and with anything, the provision that is made for their needs operates on one plane, but children operate on another. They will play wherever they happen to be, a city that is really concerned with the needs of it’s children will make the whole environment accessible to them, because invited or not, they are going to use the whole environment".
Colin Ward / The Child in the City.
Me at the mannings heath on Canford
The play of children has always held a special fascination for me. With my own childhood play experiences being so full, I guess in many ways this was inevitable. The Mannings CANFORD HEATH http://www.new.canfordheath.com/index.html I was born in one of my grandfathers properties on the ringwood road in newtown, poole Dorset in the spring of 1945.Then because of family circumstances I was raised by my grand-parents (Reg and Alice Rogers) from a very early age at the family small holding farm (The Mannings), situated on the edge of Lady Wimborne Estate at Canford Heath, Poole in Dorset. The Mannings House and grounds were situated in a basin surrounded by Canford estate with its wild flowers,tumbling heather downs, gorse bushes, and the bracken of the Mannings heath.The closest neighberhoods were just a mile away at Alderney and Newtown. High in the distance were the Lodge hills of the Canford Magna Estate with its panoramic views and tall pine trees. In recent years a great deal of the area has become better known as Tower Park, which took its name from the prominent water tower.
Funnily enough the whole area is now a modern day multi-media activity and leisure park, very commercially based. (The actual tower itself and for many years a local landmark, originally based within the local Limmer and Trinidad road surfaces compound). The local council housing estate of Trinidad, situated close to Rossmore, was itself named after the works and had no connection with a foreign tropical country.
As a small child, I attended the new Sylvan road infant school in lower Parkstone before going up the constitution hill to attend the Branksome Heath junior school situated near to seaview. When at home at the Mannings I spent my play times amongst our own farm animals, and with the many wild rabbits and amongst the numerous gypsies who frequented the area with their gayly decorated caravans. Which stretched from the Lodge Hills of Canford Magna to the local neighberhoods of Newtown and Alderney. Apart from the many gypsy children who frequented the heath, the other few children I saw outside of school time hours usually were intruders from the three communities of the nearby and surrounding housing estates, at Alderney, West Howe and Trinidad/Rossmore.
GRANFER ROGERS
Old granfer rogers kept chickens had hundreds near Poole he bought him a pig he called George Waterloo he had him ten ganders and a billy goat too i milked the nanny and she liked it too
there were doves in a loft and pigeons a few bantams and cockerels hens on the loose with pigs in the sties and cows in the shed budgies and ferrets and dogs all in their beds
the cats chased the rats and there were ducks in the pond wild birds that sang and views of Poole far beyond granfer had large allotments and grew him some veg he had two orchards and wife Alice in bed
he went to the Albion boozer when it was the snake he used lots of tools like spades n a rake he never believed in all that folks said he said you have to work hard and make your own bed
he served in the army in the french trench war he got shot up badly didn't want to go back there no more he worked in the family brickyard and he worked on his land for he was a very independent sort of a man
he made bricks and laid them built many a house but he didn't chase the fox or go out shooting grouse he was a friend of the cousin of Churchill you see lady wimborne was her name n she had a house at sandbanks by the sea
old granfer was god fearing and a christian methodist man those Jehovah witnesses he didn't understand he knew his bible and he worked the land he brought up eight children and me he was wise and honest as could be
In my early childhood at the Mannings there was no street or house electric lighting and we had to rely on candles or (tilley) oil lamps, (made in the local factory at Newtown),This was until we eventually had gas lighting and finally electricity.
GRANFERS COOPY PEN
In summer they would gather to sit in granfers pen all the little children aged from one to ten theyd listen to his stories all his durzet rhymes he always had time for them all of the time
he told them off the cuckoo who came from stobourough green he recited poems of William Barnes drew forth the country scenes he had a pig called waterloo a cow called daisy too he lived upon the Manning's where i lived from age of two
granfer worked the brickyard's he lived upon the farm he was night watchman at the foundry his skills went on and on he always loved the children everyone who came to call he listened to their prattling from two to beyond four
granfer had a pony pylon was its name he also had a billy goat thats how he got his fame granfer told us stories tales of yesterday frolics on the common tumbles in the hay
the kids all sat in granfers coopy pen every single day he was the master story teller they came from far away granfer told us yarns and tales some of them were true others were just nursery rhymes snow white and little boy blue
In the very early years there was also no running water and the family (Grandfather,grandmother and their eight children) collected water from local natural springs in the banks on the heath. Occasionally, I would invite school friends home( such as the Suttons), along with my cousins (Brooms/Domineys) who lived at Newtown and (Colliers) from Wimborne. All of my school friends considered me to be extremely lucky to live on a farm and to have so many animals to play amongst. Animals ranging from dogs, cats, rabbits, ferrets, ducks, chickens, geese, birds, cows, pigs, ponies and goats. There were so many new experiences for the urban children to enjoy; many of which I took for granted. Like the collecting of chickens eggs, hot from under the wings of hens .The Feeding and scattering corn to the chickens, the mucking out of the pigs in their sties and taking the dogs and ferrets(which I carried in a pouch in my trouser pockets) out searching for rabbits. Laying fresh hay down in the cow shed as bedding, mixing meal and pigswill (which grandad bought monthly from the large Bournemouth hotels) and then cooked in the boiling hot copper house oven, mixed with meal and potatoes, ready for the pigs’ dinners. Then actually feeding the pigs, what a fabulous experience that was. Robert Lois Stevenson Augustus John
One of my earliest childhood memories is of observing the local artist, the eccentric Augustus John,who lived at Alderney Manor were he had his own studio in the woods,which is now manor road. As a small infant I would watch him in the setting up of his easel, to paint Heather View house with its delightfull brickwork,stable and roses around the door(the house belonged to Lady Wimbornes estate and was originally rented out to my grandfather). This was just a few yards away from our own house at Mannings Heath Road which was built by grandads cousin.
Augustus John had a wild and liberal reputation and was frowned on for his womanising. He caused quite a scandal when he had a local girl pose for him in the nude.Often Augustus Johns children visited and we played games in my families brickyard.The brickyard was opposte to the house and it was here,where my grandfather Reginald Rogers worked as a brick maker.
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| Local children with whom I occasionally played with as I grew older, built underground dens in the sandy mounds on the heath, at the rear of the Trent companies car dump at ringwood road. Charlie Trents car dump displayed a large placard, which stated it was the largest in Europe. These children's ingenious underground dens which we built were all padded out on the inside, with mattresses and carpets. Then covered over the top with a roof made of galvanise tin sheeting at ground level. Then cleverly covered over with sods of grass; as camouflage, all well hidden from naked eyes.
Trees that were suitable would be conquered and used for rope Tarzan swings, with their high branches to hang from; using disgraced or abandoned car tyres, or a stick as the seat. Such swings rotated in large circular movements with a high drop below, with us children falling onto sandy surfaces. This was often to be our only escape in a moment of danger. FOREVER A CHILD
He was forever a child born to be free a childhood spent living so loved by the sea
his handle was cupid you could tell from his smile he chased the young girls just once in a while
he climbed all the trees he ran all the streets his voice it was merry so swift were his feet
his friends they were many his exploits a few he ran with the wind he was born just like you
he dressed in the manner not like kids of today he sported a cap when he went out to play
his school was a chapel his master a don he jumped the sea tides hes Constitution so strong
he was up with the sun to bed with the moon he sang of love each new day in June
his sweethearts were many from London to Poole then he rode on the ferry from lands end to crewe.
A short distance away towards waterloo, many older kids rode the new modern motor bikes and push bikes on the heath, using the area as an unofficial speedway track. This pastime is now illegal and the police monitor the local heaths with wasp helicopters, to protect the wildlife.
Nearby and to the rear of the Alderney Hospital grounds, was a large abandoned red sandy quarry area with a reservoir. This was often used by hordes of us children for playing games and adventurous pursuits. It was here we built special camps and dens similar to caves, into the sides of the quarrys sandy red banks. We would often swim naked in the wide, but safe pool of water, which in actual fact was a reservoir. Such places were my own personal adventure playgrounds.
WHERE AS A KID I PLAYED
Where geese did hiss and ganders chase where cock did crow each morn where chickens roost and old in tooth the saddle back pig was born
where granfer made the swill each morn where grandma baked a pie where dogs ran free then followed me across the heaths thereby
where springs were born within the thorns where heathers spread the floor where trees did ripe and birds took flight each and every morn
where cows did moo and pigeons flew where cats did chase the rats where summers were long and greenfich song did bless the day your born
where flowers grew upon the heath where tramps and vagrants hid where nettles brooks and uncles took me out a ferreting
where rabbits played out of the shade where trees grew tall and proud where conkers grew and fir cones too where planes flew o'er so loud
where bantams eggs were neatly spread where ducks and drakes did play where apples grew within the dew and lovers babes were laid where as a kid i played.
There was little housing then, no roads for miles and with only bird song, gypsy caravans and sand lizards for company a great deal of the time. The area of heathlands were renowned for splendid pine trees, which were originally brought into the country by Captain and Lady Tregonwell. The sweet smelling scent of the pines was seen as a cure for tuberculosis and consequently, many sanatoriums were built locally. Including the present Alderney Hospital.
The writer and invalid Robert Louis Stevenson
It was at Brownsea Island where Lord Robert Baden Powell based his very first Scout camp in 1907. Thereby founding and establishing ‘The Scout Association. The wife of Baden-Powell was herself a local lady; her maiden name was Olivia Soames. She originally lived with her family at Grey Riggs in Parkstone. (Poole). Baden-Powell and Olivia were married in 1908 at St Peter’s church in Poole which was the largest in the town. brownsea island church My childhood play world then was a great deal safer then than the present 2Ist Century environment.With its dangerous highways, heavy traffic, and crime, including that of stranger’s danger. A child was able to roam miles in complete safety, parents were not so concerned then as now. Even our front door would often remain unlocked at night. Grandad would be more concerned with the foxes, which occasionally came to the Mannings during the early hours. To drag off chickens to their lairs high up in the banks of lodge hills at Canford Magna. He housed a twelve bore shotgun in the hall. However, there were other hidden dangers. As I discovered on one occasion when my young sister Julie visited, and I took her for a stroll across an abandoned clay pit at the rear of the family brickyard. My sister Julie who was only a toddler then, found that she had trapped herself in an area of quicksand. I tried to reach her but I too found myself slipping in. Fortunately I had called for help and the local brickyard watchman, appeared with a strong length of rope and fortunately managed to haul my sister free. We went home with our skins baked in red clay and quick sand. My sister rushed directly to the deep stone kitchen sink, and was lifted into it and scrubbed by my mother. We were constantly warned of such hidden dangers, such as a store of hidden ammunition, abandoned on the boggy heath during the war years. The store containing grenades and mines embedded in the heathland mossy blanket. Another serious danger to the roaming children of the heathland. As an older boy I would be taken to watch the local football league team play at Boscombe, (Bournemouth) with my grandfather and Uncle Bill, in our family car. The ‘Boscombe Cherries’ football matches would always be an occasion. I would sport the red scarf and berry, along with the popular noisy wooden rattle. During school holidays uncle Bill Rogers would take me for days out in his 'British Road Services' lorry. To collect coal from railway sidings at Southampton Docks. Or else drive through the beautiful New Forest countryside to deliver large water pipes. Often we would drop in at Uncle Sid Rogers on our way home at his large local transport companies’ lorry yard of Rogers Tansport at fancy road. The road was named after my great grandmother Emily Fancy. We would also visit Uncle Charlie Rogers at his large pig sties at Wool Road in Newtown. The Rogers families operated numerous enterprises over the years. These all originated from my great grandmothers’ Elizabeth Fancys first pig and the growth of the original brickyards and the smallholding farm. Hence the road was called Fancy Road. Culminating in the family brickyard on the Mannings Heath. Which was a focal point in the landscape and could be seen from the trains carriage windows at nearby Poole railway station. KIDDIES RHYME
When noddy and big ears went out to play they met loopy Lou upon the way there was dougal and Dylan and brer rabbit too plus the silly old woman who lived in a shoe they all joined with zippy and Zebedee sailed on a ship with captain hooks crew there was peter and Wendy and tinker bell too then they all had a party on the wee train in the park down at Poole lanes there was muffin the mule and big bird playing the fool the man in the moon and little boy blue then Larry the lamb and sooty and sweep joined in the fun and had ice cream so neat the little dog laughed and the girls did a trip whilst the music man played so sweet from his lips the octopus garden and the yellow submarine basil brush laughed at the antics that day when the sheep and the hares danced in the hay the road runner zoomed and speedy Gonzales made his way home its was all just too much for the little BO peep as she laid in the hay and had a big weep the muffin man came to sell of his wares then marmalade sandwiches were given away by paddington bear then they all made the journey down to Poole fair .
The activities of the family at the Mannings house often took precedent over every other consideration. I would be expected to assist with the wheel barrowing of pig manure, which was used to fill in trenches at the allotment garden. The planting of seeds, gardening work, or the collection of fruit, from the trees in the two vast orchards. These were all essential tasks, which I was expected to participate in. Along with similar duties, such as assisting my Grandfather with the brick building of the front garden wall, or the new pig stys. All of such activities kept me very busy indeed. GRANDMA ALICES TREASURE. At the bottom of her garden was grandmas treasure trove it was buried in a hole at least that was what were told
us kids all went there daily to see what we could find at the bottom of her garden we left this world behind
some said she hid her treasures in pots of gold and dust of all her love and trust
we looked beneath the apple trees beneath the gooseberry bushes too but all we found were nettles along with slow worms and a shoe
they say that grandma Alice was rich in tales of lore for she sang her hymns there daily
She believed in love not war
she was a salvation soldier with her bonnet on her hair she sat in gods own citadell thats where yould find her there on sundays she would tell us
that jesus christ was king for her words were kind and open you should have heard her sing we never found that pot of gold beneath the orchard trees we all discovered love and thruth instead for the searching made us free.
I created my own hide outs, such as in an abandoned pig sty shed, furnishing it throughout with carpets, curtains and chairs, or in a chick run, using hardboard and carpeting. During these play activities, I was actually involved in what later came to be known as junk play.
Funny things happened which brightened up my childhood days. On one occasion I dressed my Airedale dog, Rusty, up in a dress and red Indian head-dress and played football with her. on the large grassed area at the rear of the house. My uncles would take their prize pigeons to Exeter, when we visited our relations there.
Aunt Ivy, Uncle Tom and cousins Maureen and Tommy Thorpe each year. The pigeons would be set free as we left, arriving back at the Mannings pigeon and dove lofts well before our return home.
Christmas was very different then and not so commercialised. We would use the front room parlour, as the room for our coal fire throughout the Christmas period. In our Christmas preparations, we would catch a chicken outside on the farm, kill it, then pluck its feathers in the bath. Then it was scorched and hung for a while, before being finally prepared for the oven. This was our Christmas dinner to feed the large family of grandparents, uncles, aunts and visitors.
One year we had a new magic lantern film projector and screened pictures onto a cotton sheet draped across the bathroom door. Watching Laurel and Hardy, boxing matches and Tom Mix the cowboy, was seen to be quite an event.
During school holidays, I would spend time with my mother Iris
At their tied cottage, close to their employers home at Barnsley Farm, where my uncle worked as head dairyman.
Occasionally, I would be taken on an excursion by my cousin Joan Broom, to watch the pictures shown at the Parkstone Regal cinema. Locals referred to as, "up on the hill". As the little yellow and brown bus took us through rossmore, the ups and downs and through the alder hills. The route of the gypsy driver Louie Foot with her old Ford T.
At the Regal cinema we would attend and watch the A.B.C children’s matinee films, shown there on every Saturday morning. We would queue up with hundreds of other local children, to watch cartoons and trailers on the big screen. Along with favourites, like ‘Hopalong Cassidy’ and "Tom Mix", with Pathe news bulletins. During windy autumn days at the Mannings, I would construct huge kites made from large sheets of brown paper; canes, string and a tail made from newspaper strips. On such a windy day, I would be able to fly my kite at a great height, extending the roll of string to its base and tying this to a chicken house corner nearby. However, such a high flyer caused problems with local aircraft flying through the terrain from Hurn Airport. Thus I would have to shorten the kites’ length of flight, due to a telephone call made from the airport to my Grandad, at the brickyards little office, opposite our house.
The Mannings smallholding farm presented a panoramic view of the whole surrounding area, based as it was in a wide area basin of open expanse. The smallholding was itself situated in the base of a valley, from where I could view all around, including the water tower at Old Wareham Road and the Wool Road area of Newtown. The area is now known as Tower Park. From here, one could also gain splendid views of the Lodge Hills of the Canford Heath estate at Canford Magna. In the opposite direction one could see the backwaters of Hamworthy Poole, known as Waterloo and see the distant trains on their way to Londons waterloo station. I was at night able to view the street lights in the distance at the Fleets Bridge roundabout along with the power station at Poole, with its tall chimneys. (which was unfortunately dynamited down in recent years) As a small boy, I was fascinated with the power of matches, on one occasion I caught fire to furze bushes on the common, which terrified me. I was unable to put the fire out, for it was spreading so quickly. Being mid summer, the day was very hot, however eventually three fire engines arrived. I was kept in my room and scolded for this major misdemeanour. Because of this, I was determined in later years to provide safe play opportunities for children, to both control fires and to enjoy the excitement, energy and warmth of fires within supervised adventure playground environments. The many play opportunities provided to build, create and take responsibility for oneself was always a part of my childhood at The Mannings. This along with the daily care of all the many animals and pets, the picking of blackberries and the apples for freshly made pies.There was always some form of construction going on on the farm, such as new pens, ready for the chickens. Along with garden's created and fresh trees saplings to be planted. The Mannings and its surrounding terrain was in so many ways an adventure playground. In itself a community, yet of animals and pets.
![]() Occasionally my Aunt Vera Dominey would take me out for the day with her large family of 8 children, cockling. In the backwaters of Poole at Hamworthy.
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