On August 17, 2018 Vikki Bilbey emailed: I came across your site today, read your story and got goose bumps. My nan (Bernice Mace nee Moore) was born in Wroxham in 1930 and last year finished handwriting her memoires. I was excited to find you have mentioned some of our ancestors in your account. Nan’s grandparents were Harry (Spuddy) and Hannah Crane. In 1939 Bernice lived at 8 Council House, Norwich Road, next door to their bungalow, with her dad Arthur George Cubit Moore and mum Hannah. It also transpires that the Neville Yellop you mentioned as part of the football team was Bernice’s first cousin once removed. It’s possible that Bernice’s parents were the subject of gossip, as around 1942 her mum took her away to Wales to be with her London-born soldier lover, leaving her brother Telford and father Arthur behind. However, Arthur then paired off with a local grocer, Maudie Bane, who had two children. Arthur Moore died in 1965 and is buried in Wroxham churchyard. Bernice doesn’t know much about her dad’s side of the family because her mum took her away such a long time ago. Someone she would love to learn more about is her grandfather Arthur Robert Moore. He was born in Suffolk but came to Wroxham when he married Alice Yellop. All she can remember is that he was a boatbuilder and lived on a boat he built called the Gypsy. Having spent her married life in London, Bernice moved back to Norfolk and now lives in Docking. I live in Norfolk too, in West Raynham.
On Aug 23 I replied: I also had a parent who went off, in this case my father, which is why when I was 11 – in 1943 – I moved with my mother and sisterJean into the house next door to the Moore family at what was by then 198 Norwich Road. I cannot remember if Bernice had gone by that time but of course I recall her from my time at Wroxham School. Miss Bowman had a habit of using your full name in a very sharp voice if you had done something to displease her and I seem to recollect Bernice Moore being called to the front at least once. Telford, of course, was living at home with his dad – as were John and Sylvia Bane, who were around the same age, when their mother Maudie moved in. Yes she did have a greengrocery shop, first in Hoveton, then in Wroxham (today occupied by Petals) next door to the Methodist chapel (now converted to houses). She had previously lived by the river under the railway viaduct in a converted railway carriage when she worked at Wroxham station as a porter. I remember Bernice’s father as being a quiet man of few words. Maudie, I recall, made up for that. Billy Betts, who married Sylvia Bane, says that Arthur Robert Moore, known as Tiny, lived on his self-built boat not on the water but on the island at Thorpe St Andrews. [Bernice says she later borrowed Sylvia’s wedding dress when she got married.] It is very rewarding when I hear from people who have come across mention of their relatives while idly browsing the internet so thanks for contacting me. I am pleased to publish Bernice’s memories of life in the 1930s below – under the picture of her father, who, you tell me when I sent it to you, she found difficulty in recognising at first
Bernice’s father, Arthur Moore (far right at front) at the helm of a Jack Powles cruiser. Mr Powles, on board with his friends, is pictured top right.
BERNICE’S MEMOIRS
I was born in 1930 in the village of Wroxham; my brother Telford was 13 months older. My parents were Arthur and Hannah Moore. My mum’s family (the Cranes) was large. I had five aunts and four uncles. My grandparents on my mum’s side, Harry “Spuddy” Crane and Hannah (nee Smith), lived in a wooden bungalow next door to our house – No. 8 Council House, Norwich Road. Before they moved into the bungalow (which had once been a shop and had a telephone kiosk in the front) they lived in a big house with their large family at what seemed to be the bottom of their garden. [It was actually in Park Road, later the home of the Gorbold family.]
Dad’s family were all types of boat people. My granddad, Arthur “Tiny” Robert Moore, worked on a wherry and lived on his houseboat called Gypsy. Dad worked for Jack Powles in the boatyard at Wroxham helping to build yachts and racing them on the broads in the summer.
FAMILY LIFE
The house we lived in at Wroxham had three bedrooms, two downstair rooms plus a scullery and walk-in pantry. Telford and I had twin beds in one room and mum and dad had the main bedroom. The small bedroom had a door in the wall that led into the roof space and apples were stored there in the winter. The room was also used by a lodger. He was a lonely old man whose family had turned him out so mum took pity on him. He was round in stature and had a club foot which meant he used a stick to walk. He spent all day trapping moles. He would take them back to an old shed behind The Castle pub to skin them and nail the skins to the door to dry out. Mole skin coats were all the fashion at the time; they looked and felt just like velvet.
Dad kept chickens and rabbits; we also had a dog and a cat. The dogs were always spaniels and dad used to take it with him when he went fishing as they were good swimmers. In the spring mum would put eggs in a box by the fire to keep them warm. After a few days the little chicks would hatch out and it was fun to see them running around the floor, which was covered in lino, so they used to slip and slide about. After about a week they would go outside in a small run until they were big enough to join the older ones.
Everything in those days was done on a weekly basis. Sundays we attended church, ate a roast dinner and rice pudding. Monday was washing day, done in the copper – a brick one built in the corner of the scullery. It had a small fire underneath so all the rubbish was kept to burn for it. When the water was hot the whites went in and the place used to get full of steam and smelt of carbolic soap. If mum had a lot of washing to do, too much for the copper, there was a wash house just across the road from us. It was a brick building and housed about six sinks and coppers, also irons, so a lot of people could use it as some had no electricity at home. Some of the village ladies were paid to do other people’s washing there.
Tuesday was ironing. Wednesday was housework. Thursday was baking and gardening. Friday the fish shop used to open so we had fish for dinner and a bag of chips for one penny; for a farthing we could get a bag of crispy bits of batter.
Saturday was a cold dinner day as we went shopping and it was bath night. We had a tin bath that hung on a nail outside all week and it was brought in on Saturday. Mum would put it in front of the fire and we all took turns washing. I was first then Telford. While we went off to bed, mum and dad then had theirs. The water wasn’t wasted as mum washed some of the dirty clothes in it then threw it on the garden. In the summer when there was no fire it we had a basin on the table and would wash in that.
Our milk was delivered, once a week, by a horse and cart carrying the big urns. Mum had to boil it to stop it from going sour. It was kept in the coolest part of the house usually in a container on the floor of the coal shed. Very often we had to go to the farm for milk. We had to pass the playground and down a narrow path about a yard wide with woods one side and a field of cows the other. They used to rush up and put their heads over the fence which made us run like mad. Next, the path opened up to cornfield but we still had to keep to the lane which eventually came out to the road that led to the farm. It seemed like we had walked for miles.
During the war there were prisoners-of-war in those woods and it was then that mum let us cycle to get the milk as we were scared of them. Most people used to talk to them and on Sundays they used to walk to the main village church escorted by guards.
My granddad Harry used to trap rabbits so his shed was covered with skins full of fleas, but that was his work, scraping a living off the land and wheeling and dealing. Nan Hannah did most of the skinning and sold the flesh for money. She also killed and plucked chickens, with the feathers put into pillows and mattresses to sell on. Their wooden bungalow had four rooms downstairs and to get to the two rooms in the roof space there was a flight of stairs like a ladder. The lavvy was down the bottom of the garden, a wooden one with two sitting holes – one small enough for children the other for adults. Hanging on the wall was a pile of newspaper strips on string.
VILLAGE LIFE
Like most of the villages at that time there was a village hall about half a mile away and dad would go there at times to play snooker with his friends, mum used to clean there afterwards and sometimes took Telford and me with her so we amused ourselves playing with the coloured balls. Village halls were used a lot for lots of functions, such as jumble sales (very popular). Once they put on a musical show and about ten children were picked to sing and I was one. We all had to dress up as baby chickens and sing a song that was famous then called “Hey little hen, when when when will you lay me an egg for my tea?” Our dresses were made of yellow crepe paper so were our hats. I felt like a film star, as Shirley Temple was very popular at that time so most girls tried to copy her.
Next to the village school was a large field [the Caen Meadow] leading down to the river, a very popular place in the summer especially if the weather was nice. Mum always packed sandwiches, a flask of tea for her, and lemonade for us that only came as crystals and had to have water added to them. Our bathing costumes were knitted for us by mum and when they got wet stretched down to our knees. The die came out as well. We had to wear plimsolls on our feet as the river bed was very stony. We made boats out of reeds to race with and when we tired of that we would roll down the hill or explore the shrubbery part of the field which was fun as there were lots of paths there and places to hide.
Another popular place to play was “Bluebell Hole” [to the left of the steep dip in the road on the way to Salhouse]. It was only a small wood but it seemed big to us. The boys took their carts or bicycles and us girls our dolls and prams, also sandwiches and drinks as we stayed there all day if the weather was nice. We made houses out of bracken and twigs and even dug small gardens. The boys would climb the trees and sail their boats in the stream. At the end of the day we would go home starving hungry, taking with us hogweed for the rabbits to eat and bunches of bluebells. Very often we would find a haystack to try and get to the top of, as sometimes pheasants would nest there and we poached the eggs.
Every year in the summer there was regular yacht racing on Wroxham Broad. It was a big event as lots of people from the villages gathered there to sail their yachts or picnic. Dad used to take part at times and race for Jack Powles, where he worked. At times we would go on his big cruiser and mum would take food to eat and Telford and I would try our hand at fishing. The toilet there was a novelty as you could see the river if you looked down the hole I tried to catch fish by putting my line down there. Once we went on the racing yacht dad helped to build called “White Wings”. It was a terrifying ordeal for us as at one spot, where the yachts turned round the markers, the wind caught the sails and they almost touched the water; we all had to hang on tight.
In the summer, too, mum would go to the boatyards on Saturdays, when the boat hirers came and went, to clean them for the next lot to use. Sometimes they left tins of food behind, also lost coins down the side of seats – little perks for us.
SCHOOL
I started school when I was five. We were led into a lobby that had rows of coat pegs with different flowers painted on them so you didn’t take someone else’s coat; mine had a rose. The teacher’s name was Miss Bennett and she was tall and thin. She stood in front of a lovely fire – keeping the heat from us. The first thing we had to do was say our prayers then blow our noses. Teacher used to have a posh hanky which she took out of a pocket in her knickers which came down to her knees. She was a very religious person, a strict Methodist, and she also played the organ in the local church. I used to go home for dinner as the school was close by. In the afternoons we had to go for a sleep in a small camp bed for about half an hour. Most of us just closed our eyes, if we made a noise teacher would come over and tell us off. In that time she would have a cup of tea and cake.
I learned to sew and knit while I was in her class. We also learned to play musical instruments, mine was a triangle. I had to hit it once at the end of whatever it was we played. Before playtime, about half past ten, we all had to drink a small bottle of milk, then go to the toilet. The toilets were made of wood about six all in a row and were just holes to sit over, if you looked down there was a gully with a trickle of water to wash away the smell. The boys were the same but separated by a brick wall as they were always trying to see over at the girls.
About six of us used to walk to school together past a small shop that sold nearly everything in the way of food. Next to it was a well with a wooden top to it. If no one was looking we would let the pail down to bring water up. Some of the boys would throw stones down to see whose hit the bottom first. Many a time the shopkeeper came out and told us off; he also reported it to the headmaster at school but we never told on each other who’d done it.
Next we had to cross a bridge over the rail lines. If a train was coming the boys would put their heads over to catch the steam/smoke on their faces, so when they arrived at school they were sent home to get their faces washed.
When I was about seven I moved to another class at school and the teacher was a very scary person. She was very tall and thin just like the witch in “Over the Rainbow”. She always wore black and her hair was parted in the middle and looked shiny with grease. A year later I moved to the big classroom which was divided into two parts. The teacher this time was the large lady who had taught mum when she was a child. She used to teach from a pulpit with three steps up so she could reign over us all with eyes on everyone at the same time. If you made a noise or even talked to the person sitting next to you, it was in the corner with your hands on your head for the length of the lesson.
THE WAR
One day when I was about nine, mum and dad, who were listening to the news on the wireless, heard that the war had started. It was a very sad time for parents as they had lived through the First World War. Mum was terrified and said that the Zeppelins would come over and bomb us.
We also heard on the wireless that people should start making their own air raid shelters, so dad started one in the garden. He dug a big hole about six foot deep and lined it with wood to stop the earth from falling in, also the floor and roof. Then he made bunk beds to sleep in. There were tins of food and a primus stove to heat things. It had no door, just a blanket over the entrance, a space for dad to stand and keep watch, and a ladder to get in and out. We did not use it much as it got very damp and cold inside. Grandad next door dug a massive hole and put a two-roomed shed inside it, a table and chairs and a load of old second hand clothes. My friends and I used to play dressing up games in there.
After a few months a lot started to change. All the available men had to join up to fight so the women had to do men’s work as well as having their own homes to keep clean. The army came to our village and set up a searchlight in one of the fields, as there was an aerodrome near Norwich which was an easy target for the Germans to bomb. As the food started to get short and on rations there was a lot of black market going on.
My aunt Alice got to know a soldier and he used to give her 7lb. tins of jam, also other things that were hard to get, so our bomb shelter came in handy for hiding them in. On one occasion a food inspector came and poked his nose around some of the houses looking for stolen goods, so most of the tins of jam we were hiding had to be buried in the garden till he had gone away, as they had “Government Property” printed on them. Dad did not know about it, as he would have been furious. Not only food was rationed but clothes as well. By then people who had flowers in their gardens were planting vegetables instead and getting chickens to eat as meat was rationed as well. Grandad got a pig and hid it down the bottom of the garden, as at the time it was not allowed because it meant he would be getting more meat than anyone else. So he made a high fence round it so as to hide it.
When the blitz started in London lots of the children were sent to the countryside for safety. A bus full came to Wroxham School so they had to be taken in by some of the local people. Mum did not have room for any but she felt sorry for two girls who did not want to be separated so they came to us. This meant we had to double up in our bedroom. They only stayed for two weeks and then went back home to their mother. Next we took in two boys who were brothers, Jimmy and Billy Harding, so I had to sleep in mum’s room as they had my bed. It wasn’t long after that when dad joined the home guard. I remember when he brought home a gun and mum wasn’t pleased as she thought it was dangerous to have in the house.
One day when we went to school there were two large sheds in the playground and soldiers standing around. It was a gas room, so all of us had to be fitted with gas masks then go into the gas van for a few minutes. If our eyes watered it meant there was a leak in the mask. Afterwards, the mask was put in a small box and we had to take it everywhere with us, even to bed. From then on we had gas attack drills at school where a bell would ring and we would have to put our masks on as quickly as possible.
In the early 1940s I sadly had to leave my home of Wroxham behind along with my dad and brother, to be with my mum and her new soldier friend in Wales.
An undated news report of the funeral of Bernice’s grandfather, Harry Crane. She finds it difficult to believe this was the same man as the loveable rogue she remembers.
Bernice’s memories are also recorded in the book Norfolk Beauty – Tales of this County – by David Banks. For more information go to http://www.jdbbooklets.org.uk
WROXHAM HISTORY 