Wallace family history - Gargrave 1912

This page last updated Feb 2006

Trevor Maddison (who lives down south) emailed us here at SkiptonWeb, asking asking for help tracing family history for the Wallace family. See details and memoirs below. Any info, please contact Trevor at: trevorandsue03@tiscali.co.uk

Dear Sirs,
My Grandfather was born in Gargrave in 1912 and started writing his memoirs (ed: reproduced below). Unfortunately due to ill health he had to stop writing and has since passed away. The Wallace's have resided around your area in particularly Linton, Grassington, Gargrave.
I have to my knowledge no surviving relatives to get any information from.
I would be very grateful if you could find out any information about the Wallace family or tell me of any one that could help.
Thanking you in anticipation of your reply
Trevor Maddison
trevorandsue03@tiscali.co.uk

GARGRAVE 1912

Now at the age over 3 score years and 12, feeling a bit nostalgic, I thought I would put down on paper, some of the recollections of my young days in the beautiful Yorkshire dales, of course I can’t remember the first 2 years, but after that age there are shadowy memories anyway.

I’ll start with the night I entered this world, Nov 15th 1912, Low Mill was burning fiercely so I had a warm welcome. I was told that mother, Mrs Kirbright and eventually me was probably the only people indoors, most were carrying buckets of water from the river Aire to put out the blaze. Mrs K attended mother when the babies arrived, and mother did the same for her.

I was the 5th child and being the 1st boy after 4 girls I expect I was rather spoilt. At 2 ½ they let me go to school as mother had to go to work, by this time the 1st World War had started. I can remember standing in relays outside the co-op for food, not like the 2nd World War, when rationing gave everyone a fair deal. There was no rationing, if you did not queue you didn’t get anything, so hence the relay with my sisters and mother.

Father volunteered for Kitcheners Army but was turned down because worked on a farm, I can remember poor father received some white feathers, after which he worked his own land to show he was in a? Occupation, but I think the feathers must have upset mother and father deeply. We had a friend whose son Sam W joined the Navy, he came to see us and sat me on his knee, he was in uniform. I wasn’t very happy and called him a German, I was very sorry after, when we heard he went down with ? Ship on his way to Russia, you may think any memory is rather good for a child, but we were older in mind in those days. At about this time mother was making the beds and I was sat astride the brass rail at the foot of the bed, playing horses, and of course over I went head first into the chamber pot which shattered being made of china, and cut my head and ear open and still have the scars. Mother grabbed a towel, wrapped my head in it, and ran next door to Mrs Gill who ran down the street for the Doctor who luckily was just turning into North Rd on his bicycle. He bandaged me up, and when father came home for dinner he was cross with mother foe making me look like a wounded soldier, he said don’t you think there is enough suffering without playing at it, he then spotted the blood seeping through the bandages, and apologised, but I was never allowed to play horses on the bed again.

Halfway through the war they brought German prisoners into the village, and as children are curious, we stood at the school railings and watched them march past. They were dressed in overalls with round circles on different parts of the overalls, and we all thought this must be the place they had to be shot if they tried to escape, and plus one had a patch on the cheek of his bottom. One Sunday morning I was at the farm with father, and he said what’s worrying you lad, something’s troubling you. I said I can’t help feeling sorry for the prisoner who had the patch on his bottom; he won’t be able to sit down if he gets shot. This amused father so much he went into hearty laughter, and said they don’t shoot at the patches, it’s just to show they are prisoners.

The Germans’ camp was in Gargrave, and us kids would stand outside the gates and sing

Our soldiers went to war
Our soldiers won
Our soldiers sent a bullet
Right up the Kaisers
Our soldiers won

The Germans worked at tree felling during the day, and in the evening would sit around a brazier singing the songs of their homeland.

About this time mother was expecting again, within a few weeks she was getting in washing from the garden which had five steps up to it, and having filled her clothes basket she started down the steps but tragically she slipped and fell down onto the clothes basket and was unable to get up. I knocked on Mrs Gill’s door, who once again had to rush for the Doctor, Luckily he was in and they managed to get mother indoors and put her to bed. Mother lost he baby, still born another little girl. Mrs Gill took me back home, I can still smell the either, that pervaded the house; I can see Dad now carrying the little white coffin under his arm to Gargrave churchyard, to the grave he had to dig himself.

Another little remembrance, every New Years day all the children were smartened up and went to Eston Hall to receive the princely sum of a new penny, which we thought was marvellous.

About this time 1917, father was struck down with Rheumatic Fever, he had to sit in a steam cabinet with just his head showing. Mother kept throwing boiling water into the tank underneath and steam came out round his neck, fathers face got very red, and I remember feeling a bit frightened. I thought mother was cooking him. After several months, father was able to get around with 2 walking sticks but left him with a week heart and was unable to work for some time on the farm, but managed to get a part time job feeding slabs of animal cake into a crusher. He was able to sit at this job. After a while he returned to the estate as a supervisor with the help of a pony and trap.

The war was still with us, and one or two airships came over, me and my mates used to run and watch, not thinking they might have dropped a bomb, we could see the Germans quite plainly in the basket under the body of the airship, they were usually accompanied by two planes, the fighters.

Farmers had ploughed up their grazing fields for the first time, to sow mostly oats, come harvest time the grass cutting machine had an extra bar to turn the oats into a narrow row, the women following on picking it up in armfuls which they tied with five or six strands of oat stalks. The men cutting with scythes and bill hooks, then about 6/8 sheaths were stacked together which we called a Stook. This was to enable them to dry out. This was before the reaping machine came. One day, what looked to be a huge box on wheels came to the village, it turned out to be a threshing machine, it was of great interest to us all and we spent quite a few hours watching it perform, when the threshing had finished with one farmer it went on to another and so on.

In 1917 at the age of 5, I joined the cubs, my uniform consisted of a jersey and a cap, there was a shortage of the rest of the uniform. During the autumn we had to collect Horse Chestnuts for the war effort, but never knew what they were used for, we did very well and managed to collect several tons. Waste paper and cardboard boxes were another collection. One or two evenings a week we had our cub meeting in the old mill not the one that burnt down.

On August 22nd 1918, mother went to bed with a headache, so she said. When I got home from school in the afternoon, she called me upstairs, and said here is a little brother for you. I looked at him, and said to mother “what are you doing with Nancy K in the bed” I wouldn’t believe it when she said it was me brother, so to find out, I dashed down the street to look in the pram and there was Nancy who was about 6 months old. Full of excitement I dashed to tell Flo my oldest sister who was in service to two maiden ladies who lived near Gargrave church, that we had a baby brother. I enjoyed going there, the kitchen was cosy and always smelt of home made bread and cakes. I was quite happy sitting by the old kitchen stove stroking the cat, and sampling Flos cooking. After tea she took me home to see our new brother, who we called George. We were now 2 boys (John, George) and 2 girls ( Flo, Dora) in the family. Hilda and Lily died before I was born at the age of 4 and 18 months.

One day in Nov 1918, I wheeled my hand cart down Skipton Road to where the prisoners were cutting trees still. Filled it with wood chips, and set off back home. I was surprised to see a woman putting a flag out of her bedroom window and wondered why. She shouted “the war is over”. I left the cart and ran to tell mother. As I turned into North Street it was bedecked with flags. Feeling very disappointed that everyone already heard, I wandered back to West Street for my cart, and went home. Mother saw me coming up North Street, she grabbed me in her arms saying “it’s grand the war is over”.

There were great celebrations in the village. There was a fancy dress parade and I went as Pat a Cake baker’s man. Mother made me a chef’s hat and apron. I carried a rolling pin and a pastry board covered with cakes mother had made. Much to the delight of other children who grabbed the cakes as we marched, sad to say when I reached the judges there wasn’t a single cake left. Although I didn’t get a prize I was awarded 3d for taking part, this seemed like a fortune to me, having only a ½ d or 1d to spend on sweets, which usually was Aniseed Balls or Gobstoppers.

We left Gargrave on the 14th Nov 1919, to live on a farm called Cowside, 2 miles from Lancliffe, up the Malham Road over the hill. The furniture had gone by horse and cart. Flo and Dora went with dad and the furniture. Mother George and me remained in Gargrave with friends until the following day, and then went to Settle by train, great excitement. We had a taxi to Lancliffe, but that was as far as the taxi could go, the road being rough with loose gravel and rocks across the road. So we walked the 2 miles, all up hill to Cowside, as we turned the corner at the gravel pits there was mothers pride and joy, her sewing machine laid in the middle of the road. It had fallen off the cart the day before. Mother let out a scream of hooray and gave me George to hold while she inspected it and put it on the side of the road, luckily there wasn’t much harm done except to the case which was a wood one, the machine was alright.

When we arrived at our new home I was very disappointed that we had no neighbours, the nearest being a mile away with no children so I would have no one to play with, and from that day on, my life became adventurous. I was a loner but spent more time with father and the four men who lived with us, in their own quarters.
My sister Dora and I walked 2 miles to Lancliffe school, the only children going from that way. Dora left school after a year, and I was on my own from then on. Flo went to Settle to work at the Talbot Arms living in. Dora after leaving school went into service on a farm a mile away. In the opposite direction was another farm which dad worked on as well as Cowside.

One day Mr who lived on this other farm, he was a hind as north country people called an employee, came to see dad about a bench for the bull to sleep on. He told Mr to harness Betty, a quite reliable mare to the cart and take what he wanted. I asked if I could go with him, he said yes to my joy. We both rode on the cart. As soon as we were out of sight of the house, he gave me the reigns and told me to carry on, such excitement. I was never allowed to do anything like this before. When we arrived at his house he unloaded the cart, then took me inside and we had tea. What a tea! Hot onion pasties, I can smell them now, followed by hot buttered scones. Tea over “now lad, thas got ta tak cart home on thee own”. He watched me until I got through the middle gate, which was the only awkward bit, I got back in the cart after making sure the gate was closed. Looked back saw Mr wave and I was on my own. I felt real grown up. When I drove into the yard at Cowside mother saw me and shouted for dad, and said what friend of a fool is letting a 7 year old boy drive a horse and cart on his own. Dad said to her, you can’t nurse them all the time, he’s a man now, he asked me if I had driven all the way. When I said yes, he patted me on the back and said “well done lad” after this I was allowed to drive horses in other farm implements and took a great interest in the other animals.

In those days around 1920 each farmer had to supply enough stones to repair the roads and collected rocks off the land and broke them in pieces about the size of a plum. This was called stone knapping. The council collected them and repaired the holes in the road. This was done by putting gravel over the loose stones and pummelled by hand, the tool used for this was a block of wood bound with 2 iron hooks to stop it splitting, with a central handle. These had to be used, it was impossible for steam rollers to get up the hills, apart from which they were short supply.

We were living in limestone country in the dales, and I found many interesting places, such as an old lime kiln Catrigg Force a beautiful 2 tier waterfall with 95 steps down to the bottom of the fall, these were man made steps cut into the hillside with tree braches , stone and soil. These were about a mile from Cowside, on the other side of the farm I found Victoria Cave and Uttermire Cave these had upper chambers were it was said in ancient times when tribes fought each other used to hide their women and children.

I am still at Langcliffe school and was on a nature walk where I had never been before, I asked the teacher if I could go home that way, she said yes, but it will be a longer and lonely way. I had met a little boy that day, I held his hand all the way on the walk. When we arrived back at school it was dinner time and everyone went home except for the little lad who wouldn’t let go of me, so I said I would take him home. His mother asked who I was and where did I live. I told her she was quite concerned about where I had my dinner, being so far from home. I told her I had sandwiches and ate them on my own in school. You must be very lonely by yourself, she said, you have been kind looking after my little boy and tomorrow you must bring your sandwiches here and eat with us. Which I did and their house became a second home to me.

My young friend was called Clifford. His mother and father and my parents became great friends. During heavy snow storms in winter when the roads were blocked I used to stay at Clifford’s house, at one time for 3 weeks. Mr (Clifford’s father) played the organ at church Mrs sang in the choir. They often had musical evenings at home. They both sang with Mr playing the piano. I did enjoy those evenings, not a bit like it is now, and there was no T.V or radio, but much friendlier.

Setting off home from school Mr Hoyle came along with horse and trap and said jump up lad I’ll give you a ride, and I remember asking him what had happened that he had no ears, he told me he had lost them with frost bite when he was in Russia during the revolution. As we got further along he said it will soon be your summer holidays and how much are they going to pay you for hay time, I’ve seen you working with horses, I could just do with a lad like you. I’ll give you £1 if you will come and stay with me for hay time and work the horses. I am still only 9 and a £1 seemed like a fortune. I said I would like to but he would have to ask father first, which he did. I could hear mum and dad talking about it after they had gone to bed, they weren’t very pleased about it, and dad said I was worth more than that to him helping him at Cowside. Mother said to dad you won’t pay him anything.

Next morning he said, you can go but if you get homesick, come home, which to tell the truth tuned out to be the case. After 3 or 4 nights at Mr Hoyles’ I could stand it no longer and thinking of my brother George and my baby sister Alice, I got out of bed and ran all the way home crying all the way. When I got home everyone was in bed and I had to wake them up. Mother looked out of the bedroom window and said “It’s John”, she rushed downstairs and hugged me, I was still sobbing. You poor boy you are home sick, and put me to bed. I heard them say “he’ll stop home now”, but next morning after breakfast, I said “I’m going back now”, but didn’t know Mr Hoyle had found me missing and came to see mum and dad before I got up. He told them he’d like me to go back, but understood if I didn’t. Anyway, I did go back and finished hay time and went proudly back home with my £1.

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