H for 100 Years of Family HOMES: A-Z Blogging Challenge 2020

H is for HOMES with a look at 100 years of where my family lived.

Census Returns and BMD certificates give us the first indication of addresses.   The 1861 census for Earlston in the Scottish Borders presents a picture of what appeared to be mixed housing provision along its Main Street.

• The Manse had eleven  rooms. occupied by the Rev Gordon, his wife, two daughters, a grandson and two servants,

• The Leslie family, lived at 20 Main Street in a house with nine rooms - Andrew Leslie, (a master tailor and clothier employing 5 journeymen and three apprentices), his wife, six daughters aged 1 to 19, a servant and two apprentices.

•  But at no. 23 Main Street was the Moffat family living in two rooms - James Moffat, a master flesher, his wife, two daughters and four sons, a servant and a visitor - a large household for the space.
   
• Many of the properties, saw families living in only one or two rooms, 
   
• In the rural  hinterland of the village, one room accommodation was common for agricultural workers.

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100 years of my family homes. 

Trap Farm, Carleton, near Poulton-le-Fylde, Lancashire
My first knowledge of Trap Farm as my ancestral home came from obtaining the birth certificate of my great grandfather James Danson, son of Henry Danson, yeoman farmer and his wife Elizabeth Calvert.    

I found the farm on the current Ordnance Survey Map and set out to find it on a visit to the Fylde c.1998.  Situated amidst fields on what is now a busy road, it was a sorry sight - dilapidated and overgrown.  I would have loved to have had a rummage in the loft to see if I could find any family memorabilia!

 

In the 1841 Census - 30 year old Hery was there with his wife Elizabeth,  five daughters - Betty, Grace, Mary, Margaret and Ellen, Henry's  much older brother Peter and two servants - a household of ten.

By the time of the 1851 Census,  the household had risen to 13!  Eldest daughter (now married)  Elizabeth was there  with her husband Thomas Bailey, her three sisters Mary,  Margaret  and Ellen, whilst second daughter Grace had left home.  But there were now two sons and one more daughter  - John,  Henry and Jane  plus Henry ( senior)'s older brother  Peter, aged 58, and  a  male farm servant and female house servant.    

How did they all fit into such a what seems to be a small farmhouse?  My great grandfather James was born there in 1852 to complete the family.

Some years later,  I returned to Carleton,  fully expecting Trap Farm to be wiped off the map and replaced by a modern housing estate.   To my surprise it was still there, but was undergoing a transformation into a modern home.

Bull Street, Poulton-le-Fylde, just off the Market Square  was the  home of my great grandparents James Danson and Maria Rawcliffe and their large family of eight sons, one daughter and later orphaned granddaughter Annie.  In their early married life, my grandparent also lived in the same  block.  In the 1960s, Bull Street was demolished to make way for a small shopping mall.

Blackpool Old Road, Poulton-le-Fylde was what I regarded as my "second home" where my grandparents lived.   It was  bought in 1924 - I have the receipt for the deposit of £67.   It looks quite big, but, with only three small bedrooms, it must have still been a squash for parents, 3 daughters and two sons who all lived at home until they married. The front door had a round stained glass window which I thought was very posh. 

Half way up the side wall was a small door which revealed the coal chute where the coal men emptied  their sacks down into a small cellar under the stairs. My uncle later took on the hard task to clear it all out to create a much needed "glory hole". The side trellissed gate was later taken down and a driveway created to take my uncle's car.  The former hen house at the back then became the garage. 

The large gardens were my grandfather's and later uncle's joy - at the back productive crop of  fruit and vegetables, with floral displays in the  front  - the scene for many a family photograph. 
 
But there was one surprising feature about the house, though - it did not have electricity until the late 1950's, because my grandfather refused to have it installed. I remember my aunt standing on a chair to light the ceiling gas lights, and ironing with a heated flat iron, and the flames from the gas cooker frightened me.

Staining Road, on the edge of Blackpool was my first home - a rented end-terraced house.  My memories are of open fires,  and an  icy front room used for special occasions (birthday parties, Christmas plus my piano lessons)  when the fire was lit.   The living room at the back was the hub of family life. 

The kitchen was small and basic,  It was rather dark and gloomy with a solid back door and little light getting in.   A pantry with a cupboard with a mesh door was the primitive fridge!    Washing (always on a Monday when my mother donned  a cross-over overall and put her hair in a turban),  was done by hand and then put through a mangle to dry either outside on the clothes line or  on an overhead pulley. The other alternative was a steaming clothes horse around the open fire.

  

As the end house of the terrace,  we had plenty of space down the side  for my brother and I to play - he in his  pedal car and myself with my tricycle and doll's pram.  I remember tall  pink and purple lupins in the garden and I pretended they were ladies at a ball and curtseyed and danced to them - but only when my brother was not around to tease me!

It was an event when we heard the rag and bone man passing by on his horse and cart.  We also had a lorry coming around selling drinks and it was a treat  to get  in a stone jar sarsaparilla - a forerunner of Coca Cola, perhaps? 

We were one of the first people to get a television in 1953, so the house was crowded around it to watch the Queen's Coronation.  We also got a phone then, largely because my father worked away a lot and it was a way to keep in touch - so we felt we were living a modern life in the new Elizabethan age. 

In 1954 we moved to our own semi-detached house not far away and my mother was delighted to have a Rayburn - a solid fuel cooker which she loved for making stews, soups, casseroles and baking - our home for two years before we were on the move again - this time cross country with my father's job to York.  


Upper Poppleton, (try saying it quickly) was the setting for my next home.   What is your image of a typical English village - village green and maypole, surrounded by cottages, church (All Saints) ,primary school and pub (The Red  Lion)?   Well, that prescribed Upper Poppleton,  on the west bank of the River Ouse, with its neighbouring village of Nether Poppleton,  where at  the little church of St. Everilda's  there was a memorial of Tudor carved kneeling figures in the chancel. 

Home was going up in the  world - a detached new build property, with a through lounge (very fashionable instead of two public rooms, fitted carpets, and bulky storage heaters to give us some background heating.  From the outside it hasn't changed much when this photograph taken  a few years ago.

My own memories  of Poppleton are of the village railway station, the  fetes on the Green - and yes, dancing round the maypole;  fancy dress parades, taking part in Girl Guide activities  (Scarlet Pimpernel patrol), singing in the church choir  and the foxhunt meeting there at New Year.  But sadly very few family photographs of that time.  

We only lived four years in Upper Poppleton.  But I remember the feeling of being part of a village community and it was there  that my love of history crystallised, remaining  with  me ever since.


1961 saw another move, this time north to Edinburgh and Cramond village on the  edge of the River Forth  to a lovely  bungalow and our first central heating - bliss!  The colour scheme was rather strong - red units in the  kitchen and a bathroom with a yellow suite and black tiles, which my mother  could not wait to get rid of.   

                         My elegant mother, ready for a Sunday afternoon drive.

In our garden for a family group photograph before I set off for a year's work in the USA.

This was my last  childhood home before I moved away and experienced bedsit accommodation and sharing flats with friend. 

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