Barry achieves some good half-mile times; a new orchid for Gran; a solar eclipse; the pleasure of a seat at Centre Court; devastation in Oakwood Road; Jock is confirmed in Winchester Cathedral, and an Open Day, held at Chelsea College – where a Jamaican girl impresses.
Book 44
On June 19th 1954, Gran is delighted for Barry, who:
…came in very late, straight from Uxbridge, where he had been running in RAF Fighter Command Championships, and was delighted to have won the half-mile race in his best ever time – 1min. 56.7 sec. This gives him next week at Uxbridge, undergoing training and running in matches – a very enjoyable way of spending one of his few remaining weeks in the Royal Air Force!
And the next day is recorded by Gran as “a very beautiful and enjoyable one!” She arises early because she is going to Eastbourne with the Fowler family, picking up Jane and spending much of the day with her. Many pages of detailed botanical observations follow, including from the downs above Eastbourne, where, Gran writes:
…we were rewarded by finding two Bee Orchids and more Frog Orchids (Habenaria viridis) than I have ever seen before, all over the place, some very fine indeed, some very red in colour and others green.

Jane is keen to show her mother her new Halls of Residence at Bishopsbourne – one of the College Hostels, and Gran is impressed, describing them thus:
The Hall is beautiful – all the woodwork, floors, doors, panels, stairs and bannisters unstained, polished oak in a mellow golden shade, the ceiling blush-pink, the wall pale yellow-green and the bannisters beneath the oak rail, turquoise blue. A lovely effect. The changing room is the acme of comfort and hygiene, tiled floors, showers, wash basins and foot showers, hot and cold water, hot cupboards for towels, oak stools before a huge mirror and oak seats along one side, with open shoe-racks underneath them.
She goes on to describe the furnishings in the ”fine library and the common room”, and of the bedrooms, she says that they:
…were such as any girl must find both comfortable and satisfying to her aesthetic taste, and her own personal property could be used to her complete satisfaction. Each room had its own wash-basin, wardrobe, dressing-chest and bed…
Gran leaves Jane towards the end of the day, “well satisfied as to her happiness and well-being, and grateful for this lovely day with her”.
The problem with Gran’s injured shoulder has still not resolved itself, in spite of her doctor’s promise some months ago, that it would improve by the Summer, and she has again needed to visit him in Southampton. She has had a Summer without tennis because of it, and listening to commentary from Wimbledon has had to suffice. On June 23rd, she writes:
I did not go out this afternoon, tennis being broadcast from Wimbledon tempting me to remain indoors. Being unable to play myself at present and with no prospect of going to Wimbledon this year, I must make do with second-best!
But next day she is elated, she tells us, because:
Apart from Nature, there was one item worth recording today. After all, I shall be going to Wimbledon next Thursday, having been promised a seat for the Centre Court!
On June 25th, which Gran describes as “pleasing and exciting for me”, she has an ‘orchid bonanza’. Jill Fowler and her mother, Tommy, who go on by car to the Royal Counties Show in Salisbury, drop her off at Pepperbox Hill. She climbs the Hill in the rain, seeing White Helleborines in flower on the way up, followed by Twayblade, and Bee, Fragrant, Common Spotted and Pyramidal Orchids. She finds an enclosed area, and describes the finding of a new species for her life-list within it:
Looking closely at this area I saw, to my astonishment, two or three Burnt Orchids (Orchis ustulata), which I had never found before, but I could not reach one through the fence and neither could I get through or over it.

She wants to “secure” one for Diana Fowler, and another for herself, to paint, and this she succeeds in doing a little later when she finds a larger colony of the plants and a gap in the fence. An eighth species of orchid is added to the day’s list later, when she finds Frog Orchid on the lower slope of Pepperbox Hill.
More orchids are found the following day, with Jock, Julian and Barry (home on leave and having recently won the half-mile for Fighter Command in an athletics match with London University). The botanical venue on this occasion is “Beattie’s Field”, at Flexford, where Gran compiles a comprehensive list of “damp-loving plants”, and she notes, after first listing species on the nearby road verge:
What a lovely sight met our eyes when we did go in!! A great number of most luxuriant Marsh Orchids (Orchis latifolia) in colours ranging from deep purple through various shades of mauve, to pure white, some much-marked, others less so, and the white, completely unspotted.
They search for the Marsh Helleborine, which they know from earlier years, to flower there, and find it, although the plants are still in tight bud. Instinctively, I think of the presence of this rather choosy orchid as a measure of the health of the neighbourhood’s biodiversity, because I know that soon it will no longer be found in Beattie’s Field. All appears to be well for now though, and also, all the usual summer bird species, nowadays no longer present, have been recorded in 1954, including Turtle Doves, Nightingales and Cuckoos in plenty. And of Spotted Flycatchers, Gran states, “These attractive little birds seem very numerous this year, and this pleases me considerably”. They have certainly been a regular feature in the garden of The Ridge, and also around Jock’s parents’ house at 99 Kingsway.
Gran spends a few days at Kingston, with Adrian’s mother at the end of June and early July. On the 30th she is interested to watch an eclipse of the sun. It is partial in Southern England but according to her notes, total on the island of Unst, in Shetland. She describes viewing the eclipse, with, I think, some risk to her retinas!:
I was able to watch all its phases with the aid of over-exposed negatives. In this I was fortunate, since it will be a hundred and ninety-seven years before such will be possible again, and my interest in eclipses will not be alive then! At ten minutes past twelve the first slight dent appeared in the sun’s smooth edge, and at twenty-five minutes past one the climax was reached [when the moon covered about three quarters of the sun’s face]. The light was peculiar but there was no noticeable darkening… The Sparrows continued their chirping and Swifts and two Gulls were circling high above the houses.

She and Adrian’s mother visit Kew in the afternoon and they witness the waning eclipse from there. Gran was wrong about the next solar eclipse visible from the UK – it occurred in 1999, my daughter and I travelling to South Devon to experience totality, just a month before Gran died. July 1st sees Gran eyeing the changeable weather with some anxiety:
…for I was going to Wimbledon later in the day, and, for the first time, with all the leisure and comfort of a possessor of a seat on the Centre Court.
There is drizzle during the morning but it clears before the start of play at two o’clock and it does not rain for the whole time Gran is there. She describes her day:
The Duke of Edinburgh and the Duchess of Kent were present in the Royal Box, the Duke handsome and manly far more so than his photographs appear, and the Duchess beautiful beyond all expectation. I sat without stirring from ten past one until a quarter past seven and was quite exhausted with excitement. I saw the semi-finals of the Ladies’ Singles between Maureen Connolly and Mrs Pratt, inevitably one-sided, with Maureen Connolly an easy winner, and between Doris Hart and Louise Brough, both erstwhile champions, who had a splendid match before Louise Brough came out the winner.
Tense excitement all round followed the semi-finals of the Gents Doubles…In the first, Seixas and Trabant, of America beat Hoad and Rosewall [of Australia] in five fast and scintillating sets, and in the second Rose and Hartwig of Australia were victorious against Mulloy and Patty [of America]. They were both splendid matches and most interesting and exciting to watch.

I imagine that only a skilled and experienced tennis player would use the word “interesting” to describe a tennis match! I’m sure that Gran made careful analyses of the players’ game strategies.
Returning to The Ridge from her sojourn in Kingston on July 2nd, Gran is greeted by an impressive surprise:
When I reached home, very late, I found there a magnificent bronze trophy and gold medal, which Barry had won on Wednesday when he became half-mile champion of the Royal Air Force, beating the existing record with the splendid time of 1 min 54.8 secs. The trophy was surmounted with the figures of Daedalus and Icarus, and the legend concerning them was printed on a slip beneath the medal, which bore a similar design.
The trophy, on which Barry’s name will be inscribed, will remain at Rudloe Manor, Chippenham, for a year, but Barry retains his medal. In consequence of this win he will run in the “Three ‘A’s” at the White City on Saturday week.
“What a glorious Wimbledon it has been!” enthuses Gran on the 3rd. She listens to the day’s commentary, and notes all the results, including her pleasure that Drobny had beaten the nineteen-year old Ken Rosewall the day before, winning the Men’s Final at his eleventh and last attempt and saying that Rosewall “has many years ahead of him”, in which to try for the title, and that Maureen Connolly won the Ladies’ Title, “as expected”, for the third time.
July 7th:
I had just started gardening this morning – at half past nine – when the post came bringing me a letter requesting me to report at the South Hants Hospital for an X-ray of my troublesome shoulder, at ten o’clock! What a scramble for the 9.30 bus, which was due outside our gate at any moment! In the end, I was given a lift in a car, seen immediately at the hospital and was home again before eleven o’clock, when I resumed my gardening!
Jock has been attending Confirmation Classes at Compton over the past weeks and on 10th July she is, Gran writes:
…confirmed in Winchester Cathedral, by the Bishop of Winchester, at noon today, and Barry, who did not run in the Finals at the White City, and I, went to the service, which was most impressive. It was almost exclusively for grown-ups, and I found it very moving when two or three married couples were confirmed together instead of in pairs of men and women. Barry and I share almost a passion for Winchester Cathedral – it is so beautiful and awe-inspiring and its roof, or rather, its ceiling, is so very lovely now that it has been cleaned.

And Gran ends her entry for the day with a paragraph much more typical of the vast majority of the writings in her journal:
As we came home House Martins were flying over the Cricket Field at St Cross, where Dark Mullein (Verbascum nigrum) was in flower. Gulls were feeding on a newly ploughed field near Bushfield Camp. The field was once used for training purposes. A pair of Bullfinches flew across the allotments at the foot of Otterbourne Hill, on the side of which, Wood Sage (Teucrium scorodonia) was in bloom. As we alighted from the ‘bus Barry saw a July Highflier moth at rest on a fence. During the afternoon, when there was a very brief burst of sunshine, a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker came into the garden.
Gran is downcast by the development taking place in her beloved Chandler’s Ford, and on July 12th, she despondently records:
I went to Pinewood Gardens for tomatoes this morning, going along Hiltingbury and Pine Roads to avoid seeing the devastation in Oakwood Road, but, to my horror, the whole strip of woodland between the marsh and Pine Road had been completely cleared except for a few small birches fronting the road and one of the pines in which we have seen the Crossbills. It is heart-breaking to see such complete devastation, even though I am fully aware of the necessity for homes, but surely a little preservation of natural beauty would be possible… A Spotted Woodpecker flew up from one of the pines lying there but I hadn’t the heart to see if there was a nest in it, for I could have done nothing about it.
Chelsea College, in Eastbourne, where Jane is studying, holds an open day on July 13th, and Gran leaves Chandler’s Ford early, travelling there by train and spending the first half of the day botanising on the nearby downs, where she finds Round-headed Rampion, “a new find for me”, she notes, “and of an exceedingly deep clear blue”.

Dancing and gymnastics displays by the students, including Jane, entertain Gran for much of the afternoon, and Gran, giving a little background information, writes:
The Senior Student, elected by vote, this year, is Sheila, a Jamaican girl, and she gave two or three solo performances, and one in company with two English students. She has all the natural grace and freedom of movement of the negro races and a pair of the most expressive hands I have ever seen. Also, and this is important, she is an extremely fine character and Jane told me that when she was elected Senior Student she made a little speech of thanks in which she said that she was sure none other of her countrywomen could ever have been received in England with such complete equality and kindness and all she could say, was “thank-you!” Jane said that most of the other students felt a sudden lump in their throats and tears in their eyes.
This is only six years since the ship MV Empire Windrush brought the first wave of Jamaican immigrants to the UK, encouraged by the Government, and the experience of Sheila makes a welcome change from the more usual accounts of their less than friendly welcome and poor treatment over many years.
Article series
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 1)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 2)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 3)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 4)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 5)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 6)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 7)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 8)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 9)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 10)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 11)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 12)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 13)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 14)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 15)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 16)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 17)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 18)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 19)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 20)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 21)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 22)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 23)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 24)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 25)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 26)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 27)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 28)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 29)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 30)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 31)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 32)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 33)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 34)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 35)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 36)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 37)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 38)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 39)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 40)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 41)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 42)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 43)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 44)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 45)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 46)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 47)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 48)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 49)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 50)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 51)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 52)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 53)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 54)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 55)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 56)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 57)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 58)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 59)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 60)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 61)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 62)
I am enjoying the gentle flow and pace of these articles. The 1954 eclipse occurred when I was a school and we all tried to watch it. We were aware of the total one coming in 1999 but that was too far to contemplate. Would we still be living? We would not be boys but old men in our 60s. In the event, I could not watch it because a patient had been booked in my clinic. However, the patient failed to attend so I joined a group of nurses, doctors, secretaries and patients outside the Nuffield Hospital and we gazed skywards through the clouds as the light dimmed.
Many thanks for your comment Mike. I found the eclipse, viewed from South Devon, surprisingly moving. Goodness knows what Ancient Man would have made of such a thing, before the phenomenon was understood.