The Eton Flood - November 1894

 

IT IS now satisfactorily established that this generation can hold its head high on the subject of floods. We can now no longer have the " Wellington " flood, as that of 1852 is called, cast in our teeth. We have seen with our own eyes the highest of the century; in fact it is even probable that this has been higher than the historic flood of 1774, recorded in the buttery of College Hall, the measurement of which is reckoned from the floor of the cellar,— and since that time it is believed that the floor has been raised. It is a remarkable coincidence that the last three high floods—those of 1852, 1875, 1894—have all been at their highest on November 17th. On that day, in 1852, the great Duke of Wellington was buried, and it is re­corded that rain had then fallen every day since his death. On a previous occasion, the exact date of which we can­not determine, he was returning to the Queen in a coach and four, and his horses were carried off their legs between Fifteen Arch Bridge and Beggar's Bridge. In those days sanitary matters were of little account, and the outside world did not, on the news of the rising water, at once jump at the conclusion that the boys would either be drowned or die of a pestilence; and in 1852, with the exception of a few houses, the School placidly pursued. its usual course, though with limited amusements.

This year on Thursday evening, the 15th Nov., the water was half-way up Brocas Lane, and the lane between Winter's and South Meadow could only be reached in a punt ; moreover telegrams from Oxford and Reading made it clear that there was the certainty of a heavier flood impending, although the result must have exceeded all calculation: at the same time, had this only been fully realised on Thursday, or even Friday morn­ing, much confusion and want of organization might have been avoided. On Friday morning the water was slowly finding its way into the street down the Vicarage Lane, and rose rapidly all day, soon sweeping away planks which had been placed for pedestrian traffic. By the time it was dark, the street from Halliday's shop to the Local Board offices was only passable in carts, and in Eton we were practically on an island.

There was a very brilliant moon,-and the present writer, making his rounds at io o'clock, found the road dry as far as Barnes' Pool; the water, which was coming down Mr. Hale's passage, satisfied as it seemed with the wreck of Mr. Benson's house ran steadily away down the drain. The stream was running very strong down Baldwin's Shore. Mr. Vaughan's house we believe had gone home. Mr. Luxmoore's only means of communication with the world was by a ladder into the Chapel yard. How the hinges of those gates leading into that solitary wilderness must have creaked and groaned when their rest was disturbed.

The house on which we once read in gigantic letters of Eton blue "50 not out" is now a stronghold of wet-bobs, and the famous blues who inhabit it were certainly in their element; the water must have been over a foot in the pupil-rooms and was just running into the rest of the house. At the end of Keate's lane a powerful man was making great efforts to keep the drains clear, which, on the authority of one who saw them working, were eventually the means of arresting the entire in­undation of the College. Rumour says that all night long did this undaunted spirit work, defend­ing his position with a broom against an incessant fire of Euclids and small books, intended to prevent the escape of the water and so precipitate the breaking up of the School. We could only get as far as the corner of Judy's passage when the water was pouring through the gate into Mr. Donaldson's garden. Mr. Durnford was working hard getting up carpets, and none too soon, for on the next day the water was four inches over the whole of his ground floor. There was a punt stationed for the night at the end of Mr. Mitchell's passage, and the last thing we saw was a little knot of Masters gazing at the water on the Slough Road, which prevented them going further than the stile into the Field. The moon made the scenes very vivid. There was no wind, but a low roar coming from the river by the weir, and from the water rushing over the Slough Road and through Fifteen-arch Bridge.

It is necessary to realise that at Upper Hope the river divided, the mass of the water keeping its usual course, but a great stream poured through Cuckoo-weir, thence through the arches along the bottom of Warre's field over the Eton Wick Road, which formed the first cataract. All across the Slads and Babylon the water was deep and broken but ran on steadily across Mesopotamia and Jor­dan to the second cataract on the Slough Road. It carried away the palings of Upper Club, two being taken right across the Playing Fields, knocking down the iron rails of Ward's cottage. Old Ward slept that night with the water pouring through the house deep enough to actually wet the mattress. The flood went on its course through Datchet, to lose itself on the great stretch of low-lying land between Datchet and Wraysbury.

We shall most of us remember the morning of Satur­day. All those who were in early school heard the notice which came round, but the first sign that the school had broken up was the headmaster in cap and gown escorted by a figure in complete armour of waterproof. From a very early hour, in fact as soon as it was light, we had been watching the proceedings, and had observed the masterly preparations for immediate evacuation, con­ducted by adjacent householders. An eminent exponent of natural science had been heard to express his opinion that Barnes Pool Bridge was bound to be blown up, and it was very reassuring to find him at the post of danger watch­ing the wonderful scene of confusion which began about 9 o'clock.

Everyone had to send a telegram and get an answer, and not even the urgent demand for journey money could make the bank open before lo. The South-Western line was blocked, the train having had to come through Datchet on Friday night with the water a few inches from the level of the top of the platform. The Slough road was unsafe, so the stream of cabs, carts and punts up the street to get to Windsor Station lasted the whole morning, and the cabmen must have voted that the flood should become an annual institution.

After the school had gone, we, who were left, settled down to three days steady work of relief in the town, dis­tributing coals, soup and bread, which everyone was most generous in providing.

Private enterprise was first in the field, but the local authorities soon came to the front, and a great effect was produced by a large cart full of supplies, hauled up the street with the Chairman of the Local Board and one of his colleagues, borne as it were in triumph, like the gods of Peace and Plenty. Drinking water was also a serious difficulty and had to be taken in barrels from the College pump.

In the afternoon the Queen drove as far as the bridge and offered to send carts from the farms to carry people, and to deliver supplies. This was an admirable thought, and indeed no better suggestion could have been made.

The poor people were all most patient, spending their-- days looking out of their upper windows, and thankful and grateful for anything that was brought them. The Spectator was right in saying that one of the best effects of this great flood was in bringing all classes together.

The weather throughout was beautiful and the strange effects of the water, especially as seen from Boveney and Dorney, were very memorable. The nights were gloomy and made more so by the failure of the gas, which gave out in Eton on Sunday night.

The most successful light we saw was a flaming torch, a relic of the jubilee procession; these in any number would have been most useful.

Many are the deeds of heroism, real and imaginary, recorded in the few days when the water was at its highest, and though we have not space for them individ­ually, we feel we cannot conclude without venturing to sincerely congratulate those who had so narrow an escape under Fifteen arch bridge, on Saturday, November 17th.

This article was published in The Eton College Chronicle 6th, December 1894.

 

Lammas Land at Eton by Robert Weatherall

This map was originally published in A Story of a Village by Judith Hunter

Lammas. The Name comes down to us from Saxon times about a thousand years ago, Originally, it meant a special religious feast the hlof maesse, or loaf mass, to celebrate the first fruits of the harvest. Experts disagree as to which day in the year that would be; some say August 1st., others, the 12th. Both of these probably meant the same day before the calendar was reformed in 1752. For centuries now, with us, the date has been August 1st. It is a pity that religious observances connected with the occasion have not been maintained.

With us, too, Lammas day has now lost its connection with the harvest. It is not very often that crops are ripe by August 1st.; and the feast must have been associated with some crop suitable for making into bread or cakes. That now would mean wheat: in Times past it probably meant rye, a crop which in these parts might well ripen early enough to be cut and threshed' before the end of July. One rarely sees rye growing here in these days, and never for making into bread.

At Eton, every freeholder, tenant, householder and cottager, living within the old parish boundaries possesses rights of grazing cattle on the Lammas lands. At first these rights may have extended over the grassland alone. We have to realise that in times past more land here was under the plough. Apart from small enclosures round the houses, the "in-ground", reserved for private use, the only land for grazing during the Summer was the Great and Little Commons. There were, of course, not so many cattle -then, although there would be more sheep, since sheep were needed for wool, to be spun and woven at home. Cotton was almost unknown.

Other grassland had to be cut for hay. That was how South Meadow got its name. Besides it, the low-lying Meads and Slads were used as meadows, along with other smaller patches most liable to flood. This land reserved for hay was most probably divided into strips belonging to the separate villagers, marked only by pegs in the ground. The strips of grass would be cut with scythe or sickle. What more natural than that after the hay had been carried homer the cattle and sheep, which had been grazing on the commons, should now be allowed to eat the aftermath? They were looked after by the Hayward. Notice the name; he was there to guard the hay.

How Lammas rights came to include the arable land we do not know. At Eton the rights run from August 1st. to October 31st. During the first half of this period much of the plough land is covered with corn crops, either still standing or cut and waiting to be carted home. There has never been any suggestion that the animals should wander over the fields before they have been cleared. The only exception might have been land left in fallow In many parts of the country it was the custom to let sheep graze over the fallow fields. Curiously enough, however, at Eton there is very little mention of this type of farming practice.

Similarly, Lammas rights might well have been a hindrance to the introduction of new crops, such as roots and clover, which are still in the ground in the autumn. It seems as if it was the Court Baron of 1871 which first allowed the farmers to grow turnips, and there is nothing now to prevent them growing clover. More than that, in post-war years we have seen considerable areas used for growing market garden produce, and many fruit trees and bushes have been planted, There must be some people still alive who can remember when Lammas land was first allowed to be used for allotments, as well as for the recreation Grounds, both at Eton and Eton Wick. That shows how ancient institutions can be adapted so suit modern needs.

Nevertheless, down the centuries these Lammas rights have had a great influence on the development of the parish. Thanks to them, much of the land has been kept free from building. Otherwise, the river bank might now be covered with bungalows, while Eton and Eton Wick might have become joined into one big residential district.

For a long time the only building possible was on land not subject to Lammas, chiefly on the small enclosures around the houses. That explains the compact nature of the two village centres: It also explains how difficult it has been to find new sites for the natural growth of Eton town as well as of the College, Eton Wick has been fortunate in being able to expand on to land which once belonged to Boveney, and not subject to Lammas.

Thinking along these lines one wonders how some areas are now free from Lammas. The Brocas, apparently; was always free It has a history of its own, for in Norman times it was owned by people living in Clewer. Something similar may be true of the land at Clewer Point. Perhaps at one time it was an island in the river.

The cedar tree in the Sanatorium grounds shows how long the land there has been free from Lammas; and for many years there has been an orchard at Crown Farm, much as Mr. R. Tarrant has it to-day. Along with these we must include the land on which two Eton boarding houses now stand. We do not know how these areas became free. We can guess, however, that the line of buildings along the west side of the lower part of Keate's Lane, which were once in private ownership, and the houses near the "Willow Tree" first originated in the good old English way of "squatting".

Examples of how with time and ingenuity one can get round the strict letter of the law come from the Eton town allotments. When they were first begun it was laid down that no erection should be more than eighteen inches high. Since then we have seen full-sized sheds appear, along with chicken runs and pig styes, complete with concrete floors. One plot, builder J. Platt, a stonemason, dug downwards and constructed a store place underground made of old stones from Windsor Castle and Eton College. Another plot holder, A. Dore, a wheelwright, went even further, he dug out a workplace, and for quite a time pursued his trade of making wheelbarrows and even ladders, unmolested by ancient customs.

Yet while Lammas rights have hindered building development, they have not prevented it altogether, it can be seen from the changes which have taken place in recent decades. The Church, school and churchyard at Eton Wick exist on land which almost certainly at one time was subject to Lammas. On this point, however, the records are not precise. We have clearer facts about the Pumping Station and Village Hall, and in more recent years, about the council houses at Broken Furlong and along Somerville Road. In these cases, building took place after proposals had been discussed at public meetings and proper resolutions had been passed.

The case of Bell Farm is interesting. Just before his death Mr. Robert Nason told me that the land  was at one time subject to Lammas, but when it became a sewage farm the Lammas rights were abolished the understanding that for the future no such rights should be exercised on behalf of Bell Farm in other parts of the parish.

This indicates one way in which these rights might be completely abolished. That they have continued at Eton so long while disappearing in most other parts of the country is due chiefly to the fact that no Enclosure Act was ever carried through here. All the time they have been controlled by the Eton Court Baron, under the old manorial system what land was Laminas and what was not depended on custom and the living memory of the people at the time. No old map of these areas seems to exist.

About ten years ago there was an informal, meeting arranged by J. H. Sayner, the town-planning officer, at which H. Dunce, a farmer of Eton Wick, and G. Gosling, a road-sweeper of Eton, both members of the 1908 CourtBaron, went over the map field by field saying what was and what was not subject to Lammas. This information was then embodied in the town-planning proposals and formally adopted; so now we have official regulations reinforcing the ancient rights in influencing the development of the parish.

All this may make alterations of lammas rights somewhat more difficult, but it would be a pity if customs originating, centuries ago should stultify the present life of the people. Cases in point are the two Recreation Grounds, now subject to Lammas. The question of freeing them arose as far back as 1898, when separate meetings of the parishioners of Eton Wick, the Eton Wick Parish Council and the Eton Town Council all passed resolutions in favour of the change being made, Why these resolutions were not acted upon still remains a mystery. There is no reason why the Recreation Grounds should continue under Lammas in perpetuity; and, although the problem of freeing them may seem complicated and difficult, it might well become a useful object for communal aims and action in this Festival Year. The same result, however, would be achieved if, as during last summer, the farmers were to refrain from exercising their rights on these areas, That would redound to their good sense and public spirit while producing a solution both traditional and typically British. 

Robert Weatherall

Note. It is unknown where this article was first published or when. The mention of "this Festival Year" seems to suggest 1951 as a likely date. Robert Weatherall was an Air Raid Warden during WW2 and the 1939 Register recorded that he was live at  Sanatorium Cottage at beginning of the war. He was born in 1899.

MEMORIES OF ETON WICK - Bill Welford

MEMORIES OF ETON WICK

I moved to 72, Eton Wick Road to live with Aunt Ella Pardoe and my memories start here. A pathway ran through the allotments opposite 72 and a bonfire was always burning just inside the fence. I walked through this pathway twice and down to the river where I fell in and was brought back safely. I spent many hours sitting on the doorstep of the sweet shop in Alma Road where I was often given sweets. I also fell in the brook by the style which was situated on the pathway between the Wheatbutts and what was then Morris's farm. I remember a small tree on the piece of Common between what was the farm and the cottages which were occupied by Mrs Newell, Jenny, and where Mrs Rivers now lives. I also remember a boy throwing a stone up into this tree, it fell down on to another boy's head, seriously hurting him. This tree is now quite large with a seat below it.

I remember a fair being held in the Wheatbutts, also being in my Mother's arms outside what was then Mr Bond's house on the corner of Common Lane and Eton Wick Road. We were watching a zeppelin overhead; another day an aeroplane landed on Dorney Common. We all rushed over there, I was in a pushchair pushed by my cousin, Vi Pardoe. I also remember the Italian ice cream cart that came up here. All this was up to the age of two.

One very foggy morning I remember my Mother wheeling me in the push chair to Windsor Railway Station, one of the Station staff gave me a thermos cup of hot tea as it was so cold (push chairs at this time were made of wood just like a small folding chair with wooden wheels).

I did not return to Eton Wick until August, 1929, where I will now try to give a few of my memories. I arrived at the G.W.R. Station at Windsor about 2.00 p.m. on a lovely Summer's afternoon. I had not seen my Mother since I was two, she was there to meet me. A very beautiful lady, along with her was my half-brother, John Cox, and Mrs Bell with Ceclia and Peter. Little did I know then that Celia was to become my wife. There was a fair on the Brocas that night so we had to get home to tea quickly. We got the Blue Bus at the South Western Station. This bus was a Ford and the entrance was up steps at the back, the passengers sat in benches running from the front to the rear, similar to an ambulance. I think the fare was 11/2d in old money for adults. The bus stopped at the Village Hall and turned round for the next trip to Windsor. The driver was, if I remember rightly, Mr Ted Jeffries. Home I went to Ivy Cottage, Alma Road, where I was informed that I had a sister, Frances, who was in the Fever Hospital at Cippenham. Had a good tea and was then taken to the fair on the Brocas. This was where I met my step-father, Mr Thomas Cox. He was then a Walls Ice Cream salesman and used to ride a tricycle with his ice cream, even though he had only one leg. After the fair , we walked across by what was the dust heap under the arches. The grass was damp and we gathered mushrooms. When we reached the Eton Wick Road, Bob Bond came along in a lorry and gave us a lift home. In those days there was little main drainage in Eton Wick, it was nearly all 'bucket-work'. I remember my step-father saying "get a hole dug up the garden, Bill, so I can bury the tinned fruit !" that being the lavatory bucket. Our milkman was then Mr Woodley, the paper man -Mr Sibley, coalman - Mr Hood, the dustman was horse and cart and I am not sure whether this was done by Mr Rollo Bond. Mr Bert Bond was the greengrocer.

As I have said before, much of the rubbish was taken down to the dust heap which lay just this side of the arches near to what was the Eton College Swimming Baths. There was also another heap over the back of the Little Common near to where the Riding Stables are. We built up many of our bikes from parts found on these dumps.

At Supper time my Mother would sometimes send me down to 'The Greyhound' to get saveloys from Mrs Newell. It was not like a pub in those days, just a small bench in the porch of the house. There were no cattle grids, cows roamed the village as there was very little traffic. White gates were situated at Common Lane and at the entrance to Dorney Common but they were seldom used, everywhere smelt 'farm-yardy' - quite a pleasant smell not often met up with today.

If we ran out of milk my Mother would send us with a jug to Morris's farm, opposite to Jenny Newell's. For our haircuts we went down to Mr Tuck's house in Brocas Street, I think it cost us 2d. in old money.

The Sewerage Works were manually operated in those days, pipes being shifted from one lagoon to another; we found some of the finest tomatoes there, they were yellow.

Real Steamers plied up and down the river, the Mapledurham, Windsor Castle, Empress of India were among the largest, their white funnels shimmering with the heat from their boilers.

Punts were used by the honeymoon couples, whose portable gramaphones were blaring out across the river. The river at this time was fairly clean and one was able to swim without worrying about any health hazard, weeds were the danger in those days. The young lads used to gather down by the small iron and concrete bridge, which crosses with sewerage stream, for bathing sessions. usually in the late afternoons and into the evenings.

The built-up area from Bell Lane to Dorney Gate was known as Boveney New Town and the area around Victoria Road behind the Shepherd's Hut was known as Klondyke, why I don't know. There was a large field between Alma Road and the Shepherd's Hut which we knew as Codd's field, possibly because it belonged to Codd's farm which was up to the top of Bell Lane.

The small cottage on the righthand side of Moore's Lane, at the entrance to the cycle path to Slough, was a Police house. If my memory serves me right, it was occupied by P.C. Martin and family in 1929 when I came home. There was a Police notice-board and I remember the notice regarding the Colorado Beetle and the one about obnoxious weeds which were put up every year. Next door to this cottage was a large house occupied by Ted Mortimer who was the baker's roundsman for Barksfield of Dorney, then came the big house of Mrs Chew. Opposite these houses were allotments stretching for about 200 yards or more and right up to the main Eton Wick Road.

In the early 1930's another bus service was started, named the 'Marguerite'. These buses were garaged at the junction of Alma Road and Moore's Lane. The proprietor was a Mr Cecil Kingham and they provided a service to Dorney and Taplow Station.

The Slipes as I recall were the fields from Moore's Lane stretching up to where the Gas Station is now situated. In the Summer it was a pleasant walk across there as it was never ploughed. There was a pathway (muddy - with a style halfway), used also as a cycle track to the Trading Estate, Slough and Cippenham. It got so muddy at times that it was better to walk than ride. Cart horses grazed in these fields and one had to look out for them when they loomed up towards you in the foggy weather. A short cut could also be taken across these fields to Chalvey, passing by Mr Jackaman's shed. Wood Lane was a very pleasant walk in those days with no motorway or Sewerage Works as they are today. One could walk up to Headington's Farm and across other fields to the Bath Road.

It was in 1936 when McAlpines started on the modern Sewerage Works - I remember the Irishmen coming, they lived very rough in huts but were quite amiable people, liked their 'wallop' though.

TRANSPORT - Unlike today, there were few cars in Eton Wick. As I have already said, we had two bus services - the Blue Bus and the 'Marguerite' and these services connected very well at Eton with the London Transport buses which gave excellent service to Slough, Windsor, Staines and connections to London. One could go out any night and be almost certain to get a bus back up until about 11 p.m.

In those days the road to Eton was gaslit and one was able to walk the road in comparative safety if the bus had gone. I never heard of anyone ever being molested, unfortunately the bus service was hit first with the advent of the family car, and furthermore by the closing of Windsor Bridge. Despite the promises of certain Councillors that a reasonable bus service would be maintained, the service is not up to the standard of other parts of the Royal Borough to which we belong and to which we contribute the Poll Tax (Community Charge). With the ageing population, I think that a through bus service to Windsor should be brought back, even if the fares (which are the highest I have ever come up against) had to be further subsidised. After all, we all contribute to the free park-and-ride in Windsor for those who could be from Timbuktu for all we know - still, I am moving away from the subject, more about Eton Wick.

The 1930's to me were foremost in my memory. Bob Nason was the wise man of the village. If you were in need of any information, he was the man to see. He knew the ropes and if he could not give you the information you required off hand, he would find out. Your bicycle needed repairing so Mr Woolhouse was the man to see. The battery on your wireless set went flat - Mr Tomlin from Windsor would call with his small van and would give you a replacement until he had recharged yours. Your baker would probably have been Barksfield from Dorney, the roundsman being Mr Stacey (Henry?). The butcher was Mr Mumford and the roundsman, Henry Barton. Mr Sibley did the newspapers from Alma Road and also sold them at College corner.

Alma Road was a very busy road in those days; the thing I remember most was old Mrs Woodley who used to go to Windsor nearly every morning. When she came back from the bus the windows of Alma Road used to go up while she would give out the latest news. Bill Olyotti? used to come along from the other end of the road about the same time and bring out his watch, (the largest I ever saw) and verify the time. The families I remember then were:- Mrs Binfield, Puseys, Banhams, Wilcox, Bell, Bryant, Jacobs. Higgins, Ling, Slaymaker, Paintin, Budd, Gardner, Flint, Morris, Chamberlain, Kelly, Kitchener, Kavanagh, Morrell, Mrs Cox (laundry),(Co-op shop), Harding (GasCompany), Prior and Milton and there were others I just cannot put a name to now.

Sunday was also a busy day, with the children all going to the Chapel for Sunday School in their one-and-only Sunday best. The afternoon was fairly quiet as quite a number of people used to retire for the afternoon - noise was taboo. I remember Harry Prior from Bell Lane gave me an old O.K. Supreme motor-cycle. My brother, John Cox, and I started it up and revved the engine, my Father said "that's enough - that bike goes or you go!" - so ended the lesson!

Eton Wick had a football team in those days, run by Mr Clark and son who lived near to Mr Woolhouse - one had a job to get into it. I remember we used to go to the notice board which was near to the Institute to see if we had been picked. The team consisted mostly of the following who I can remember :-Albert Prior, Len Emery, 'Nigger' Young, 'Cocker' Hood, Nobby Clark, Jack Ling, Les Chamberlain, Jim Stannett, John Cox, Bill Welford, Bill and Ted Pardoe, Kennedy, and there were others I cannot bring to mind.

The War was not too far away, Slough Trading Estate was getting busy and people were gradually being put on overtime. Bonds of Eton Wick had built up a fleet of lorries for contracting work. All the signs were that Slough and the surrounding districts were going to expand for the light industries which were moving in. Large numbers of people were moving in from the depressed areas of the North East and Wales. Things were looking good; money was available for people who were prepared to work and the shops began to be filled with goods (much of which was available on H.P.) with which the incoming immigrants could furnish their new homes. The hammers from High Duty Alloys could be heard stamping out what I was told was aeroplane propellers. The ground at Eton Wick was said to shake after each blow, I had heard them and they certainly did give a loud thud.

FLOODS up until 1947

The weather pattern, as everyone knows, has changed considerably over the last 40 years or so. Up until 1947 flooding was almost an annual event. Almost every year one could reckon on at least a foot of snow, followed by a thaw which would bring the water over the river bank and almost up to the old Recreation Ground. It was not unusual for the planks to be put up on the pathway on the Slads near to what was the 'Willow Tree' pub, as the water often came across the road at this point. Since 1947, it would appear that there has been better control of the flood waters. The flood boards have gone, so too have the iron supports for them.

NOISE  

The pattern of noise has also changed considerably, gone are the sounds of the high speedsteam trains which one got used to as they rushed through the night. Now it is the noise of the traffic along the M4, with the sound of the two tones ofambulances, Fire and Police, accompanied by the aircraft noise.

Fireworks are no longer confined to Guy Fawkes's night. It seems that everyone who has a party or fete uses them, more is the pity, can't they be fitted with silencers?

CHARACTERS  

For instance, the Reverend David Wingate, he was a real character. Also, there was a chap called Omar Browne*, who was about my own age and was in an Army School. He used to come on leave to somewhere in Bell Lane at the same time as I came home from the Naval School.

Finally, how about the fox being chased from Morris's farm across the stream by the beagles? It ran a cross the road in front of me and into Mrs Harris's cottage at the corner of Bell Lane and Alma Road. It jumped into the copper and Mrs Harris put the lid on it (end of fox). This story is in a book held by the M.F.H. at Eton College (I should say this was the Winter of 1936/7.)

FEBRUARY, 1993

(William H. Welford was born in Shedding Green, Iver, Bucks on  26.11.17. This is one of the memories of village life that the Eton Wick History Group collected soon after it was formed in 1992. The Talks Programme does not reveal if it was presented at one of their meetings.)

*Omar Browne was a casualty of the Second World War during the Sidi Rezegh battle on November 21st 1941. His name appears on the Village War Memorial.

Old Days of Eton Parish - Two Walks from 1908

Field Map by H. Walker 1839

Walk No. 1 

Passing through Weston's Yard and the Playing Fields, once called King's -Ward or the King's Worth, we cross Sheep's Bridge, and, looking to the river bank on the right, we are reminded that, from 1557 until the year 1840, a timber and coal wharf occupied this bank, known as Leadbeater's Wharf. This was also used as a bathing place but was finally condemned as dangerous. Taking the path to the left, we pass on the right the Shooting Fields, now known as Upper Club. Crossing Slough road from the Lodge we find ourselves in Stone Bridge Mead. Formerly this was divided into three holdings. The land along Chalvey Brook belonged to the Parsonage of Eton.; It still is free of tithe and bears the name of Parson's Bush. Next came a narrow strip of arable land, one furlong in length and eleven yards wide at each end--in all, half an acre, known as Mid-furlong, which was the property of the Bridge Trust; nearer Colenorton Brook is Pocock's Field, once the holding of Henry Jordley. Crossing the footbridge to the left we pass through Timberhaws (the Timbralls), better known in these days as Sixpenny or the Field.

Coming out into Common Lane by the Fives Courts, we pass Colenorton Close on the right and find ourselves at the entrance of Long Common. Taking the path over Colenorton Brook by the side of the pumping station, we pass under the railway viaduct and are in Rossey's Piece. The long field north of Colenorton on our left is Inner Mead; on the other side towards Chalvey lie the Broad-masses or Broadmarshes or Broadmoors, famous for cowslips. Further on, on the same side, is North Field with three little strips in the corner, Little Bush Close, Bushy Close, and Long Close.

The path continues straight, until it is crossed by the road leading to Little Common. The farm on the left is Manor Farm; the farm to the right is known as Saddock's Farm, which is the property of the Crown. Behind the cottages on Little Common is what is called Great Park Close, now part of the Eton Sewage Farm, and nearer Bell Farm (occupied by the Manager) is the Hyde or Great Hide. At Bell Farm we reach the western boundary of the parish. Although Long Common is the pleasanter way, we will for the sake of the topography return by the Eton Wick road. Opposite the front of the village is Upper Tilston Shot, It is here a futile attempt was made in 1846 by T. Hughes to defy Lammas rights. Here in the present century E. L. Vaughan has succeeded in planting an Institute for Eton Wick and New Boveney.

Eton Wick Church and Schools stand on Sheepcote or Great Sheep Croft or Sheep-gate, the land on the other side being Crab Tree Close. A little further on we reach on the left Gudgeon's Pool, the land opposite being called Sandles or Sandalls. On the Eton side of the Sanatorium, to the left as we face the town, is Broken Furlong, and on the right crossed by a path, Path Sandles. Then we reach the Slads or the Water Slades, i.e. the channel by which the floods slide away,' and we come to the College Recreation Ground properly called Great Town Piece,' and Evans' Field, ' Little Town Piece,' where once there stood a pest-house for cases of plague.

Walk No. 2.

We may leave the College by Keate's Lane passing the houses built on Cock Close on the right and Christopher Close on the left, and we come to South Meadow. The narrow field behind the Bellevue Cottages is marked in the maps as the Butts, 'and a small plot of ground opposite on the left in South Meadow is known as the Hayward's Butts,' The Hayward, who has charge of the cattle on the Lammas and Common, still has certain privileges on this strip of ground. 

Instead of following the lane, we will take the path to the right through the town Recreation Ground, which occupies part of Ten Acres,' The path leads through 'Rush-pits' to Grass and Corn Gabbetts, and so to the bridge on the towing path over Boveney ditch. We have again reached the boundary, and turn back to Athens, which stands in Warwick Eyot with Warwick Close and plots called Bird and Buckshot Close and Burden Bushes behind it.

If we crossed Long Bray Bridge at Upper Hope we should pass from the Lower Ward Meadow into Great and Little Inner Ward, but we will skirt the Outer Ward and Cuckoo Weir, called in some maps Cuckoo Pum or Cuckoo Penn Ware. We pass on the left 'Mill Piece' and 'Mill Furlong,' reminding us of the mill which stood in Cuckoo Weir at the time of the Norman Conquest. On the right is a broken piece of ground called Gravel Close, which still shows signs of old gravel pits, and we can return either by the side of South Meadow, by the side of which flows a water culvert, or cross the Brocas field and re-enter the town by Hog Close and Brocas Lane. We shall then in two walks have touched on nearly all the places which are mentioned in the maps or other records of old Eton.

This is an extract from Old Days of Eton Parish by The Rev. John Shephard originally published by Spottiswoode and Co., Ltd. in 1908.

The Eton Wick Newsletter - August 2015 - `Our Village' Magazine

Our village - 85 years back

2014 was the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of the Great War, and a year later, in 2015, we celebrated the end of the Second World War; seventy years before. There were many functions of remembrance in 2014 but of course no living person could truly remember events of so long ago. By the nature of all things, in the passing of a very few years there will be nobody to remember WW2. Hearsay and history is often far from factual. Those who experienced the worst horrors of war rarely spoke of them, while others more fortunate readily related what they had seen and done. When I was growing up in the 1920s and 30s I noticed people dated events with the prefix 'Before the war' or 'After the war' meaning of course The Great War of 1914 — 1918. Years later my generation use the same terminology, but meaning WW2 1939 — 1945. War being a datum line in our memories; so I will now 'tap' my memory and record a little of my 'Before the war' (1939 — 1945) years in a very rural Eton Wick in Buckinghamshire. It only became part of Berkshire in 1974. 

Eton Wick was only ever a working class community with no 'big houses' and gentry. In fact I only know of one titled resident, Lady Julia Hulbert, the mother of the village priest 1924 — 1931. Incidentally the lectern in St. John the Baptist Church is appropriately inscribed to her memory. The old village of Eton Wick had about 500 residents at that time, and Boveney Newtown 550. Both had their own rural councils. In 1934 they were merged and became part of Eton Urban District Council. 

As youngsters — please not kids, as in those years only goats had kids, most of our free time was spent out of doors, with boys 'mooching' the commons, ditches, fields and hedgerows. To 'mooch' covered a multitude of activities, often dictated by the season. Perhaps collecting tadpoles; blackberrying; fishing; bird nesting; getting rubbish and wood for the autumn bonfires; tree climbing; making tree camps; gathering cowslips; cornflowers and making catapults; bows and arrows; and crude little boats to sail along the stream. Seasonally there was an abundance of tadpoles, frogs and tiddler fish. During the summer we gathered many different grasses for competitions in the annual Horticultural Show. Usually we collected about seventy varieties, which were displayed on a sheet of white card. In this and other ways we really got a better understanding of the seasons, and our local natural world. Many local areas had names rarely used today. There were the 'Withies'; Tip; 'Hillies'; Gudgeon Pool; Athens; Chinese Bridge; Iron Bridge; Slads; Butts; Blind Alley; Plantation; Jungle; Slipes: Spackmans; Boveney Hole and Dump. The most obscure being Gudgeon Fool. which is the field east of the track from the main road (B 3026) to Crown Farm. This was certainly a floodable area, so was there ever a fish in the flood; or perhaps attributable to a family name at some distant time. Not so fanciful when we have had Eton Wick names of Codd; Crabbe; Dace and Whiting in the last eighty years. 

The 'Slads' and Folly Bridge Pound are better known. The Slads, or Water Slads, being the first place to flood, is said to mean a hollow. The Pound is where stray or unauthorised cattle were impounded, and I presume Folly Bridge is in fact just that - not a bridge but a culvert under the road, hence 'Folly'. 

From the Slads, and heading south for 200 metres, and turning west toward Eton Wick from the rail viaduct, the land is a little undulating and this was known as the 'Hillies', much frequented by the Eton Church Lads Brigade during the 1930s, and here, with the Old Highway on our left, was an ever smouldering large rubbish tip. This was a great attraction for school boys, and at a time of little or no rubbish collections, very necessary. Here then was the 'Tip'. Todays' walkers west of the old tip site may be struck by the hundreds of small china shards scattered over acres of farmland. Not an ancient civilization, but the levelling effect of that old pre WW2 tip. Nearby is Chinese Bridge spanning the 500 metre backwater we know as Cuckoo Weir. Several times this bridge has been rebuilt but always retaining the familiar appearance. Maps show Chinese Bridge as Long Bridge, Long Bray Bridge and Upper Hope Bridge. Cuckoo Weir is now used as a Swan Sanctuary. Until mid-20th century it was used by the Royal Humane Society as a safe swimming place for local residents, and separately by the College for juniors and non-swimmers. Cuckoo Weir flows on until it re-joins the Thames close to the rail viaduct. The bridges at this junction are Lower Hope and Bargeman's Bridges. Why the name 'Cuckoo Weir'? I can only guess that like the play 'One flew over the cuckoo's nest' it suggests a non-existence; either the nest or the weir. I have however seen an older book that names the water as Cuckow Ware! A little upriver of the bridge is a substantial area of untidy saplings and willows, once an osiery of 'withies'. In times much past 'withies' were invaluable for eel and fish traps; baskets; furniture and wattle and daub walls. In the 1930s Eton College fenced this off, and used it as a bird sanctuary for their young ornithologists. No longer is it being well used. Here then was the "Withies"! 

A little over 100 metres west of Chinese Bridge was 'Athens', an earth mound at the river bank, originally surrounded by water, and a swimming place for Eton College. The mound has now been levelled, and the site is marked by a seat which has a large stone block beneath that bears two metal tablets. One quotes the College rules for swimmers as pertained in 1921, the other states that 'Athens' was given to the College by parents of a particularly talented College boy swimmer who was killed in a flying accident in 1917. Here then was 'Athens', which with the post WW2 emphasis on a modern swimming pool, made this and other places obsolete. 

Three to four kilometres upstream is Oakley Court Hotel; on the south bank of the Thames. Reputedly built to resemble a French chateau, to ease homesickness of a young French bride, it much later was used by Bray Film Studios for their Hammer House of Horror films before becoming a hotel. Very probably the original owner had a large copse of trees planted on the north bank which to this day obscures much of the Boveney farmland beyond (now of course a rowing lake). This copse was the 'Plantation' of my youth. 'Boveney Hole' I always thought a derogatory term for Boveney village. Not so! The term 'Hole' can mean a bathing place, or a place of slack water. There is such a place approximately 150 metres upriver of Boveney Church where the 'slack' water is caused by a sharp bend in the Thames. It frequently needs the dredging of a reed bed. Again looking across the river there is a fine building, now flats, that before WW2 was a home of a very wealthy Indian and his large entourage - Dunji Bois Bomanji (probably mis-spelt). An employee told me that money was cleaned on a regular basis before the gent would handle it. 

The pathway from Eton Wick to Cippenham was formerly a rough and seasonally muddy track through open fields; we knew this as the 'Slipes', becoming Wood Lane half way to the Cippenham road. During the 1930s to 50s this was a regular busy route to the work places of perhaps the majority of Eton Wick's working residents employed on the so called 'Dump', otherwise the Slough Trading Estate. It was known as the 'Dump' because after the Great War of 1914 - 1918 the large area was used as a scrap yard for many of the wars' vehicles. Only later did the site become developed with many different industrial factories. Where the 'Slipes' becomes Wood Lane there is to the left an overgrown spinney. This we knew as the 'Jungle'. A little further on and to the right we now have an estate of dwellings and Asda store. Around this area was 'Spackman's' private air strip and hangar. Mr. Spackman, with his brother, reputedly flew their small biplane to Brighton for an early morning 'splash' after which they returned to base for breakfast. The windows of that small hangar were a big attraction where we would peer through at the plane. All is gone now, but nostalgically there is a Spackmans Way on today's nearby estate, thereby ensuring that what is gone is not necessarily forgotten. 

Then we had 'Blind Alley', not far away, but usually we went there from Little Common. This dark, overgrown and muddy cow track is off the North East corner of Little Common and leads to the Chalvey stream where we occasionally found Newts. To the east was the 'Butts' where Eton College cadets had a long distance rifle range. The post WW2 building of the M4 motorway resulted in a shorter and much diminished range. In times of use, red flags warned pedestrians not to use the Eton Wick to Chalvey footpath. The route was much used in my youth as it could lead to Chalvey and Slough's Adelphi cinema. Now of course we all have cars and there are no big cinemas. I guess we cannot have everything. 

Submitted by Frank Bond 

Click here to read Our Village August 2015.

This article was originally published in the Eton Wick Newsletter - Our Village and is republished with the kind permission of the Eton Wick Village Hall Committee. Click here to go to the Collection page.

Our Village April 2013 - The way things were - The Village Grows

I am sure that some readers of the previous magazine were surprised to learn that just 50 - 60 years ago so many pigs were living among the homes of Common Road and of course in other parts of our village. This gives cause to reflect on what was here years ago. My memory may cover the last 80 years, but only hearsay and records can go further back. Of the latter there is scant to call on, other than Dr. Judith Hunter's book of 1977 on Eton Wick. I know of no other book of any era exclusively on Eton Wick's general history. It is said that with its Anglo Saxon name it probably pre dates Eton College (1440) by several hundred years, albeit perhaps no more than a supplier of fuel, thatch and food to the place of Eton, itself not the town that we understand today. Only 150 years ago the small village had no church, no public buildings and a small school of little more than two decades old. There was no drainage, piped water, and of course no gas or electricity. Some lucky homes had a pump in the garden, which was probably shared, and wood fires, candle and oil lamps were the norm. Perhaps of small wonder that the population of around 300 justified four pubs, where at least a roaring log fire and company were great attractions. Of all the pub names surely there was a need for a 'Linger longer Inn.

If we look at village geographic changes of that last 150 years we must remember that Eton Wick's west boundary was at Bell Lane; originally a farm track linking Bell Farm to the rutted, muddy track (allegedly an old Kings Highway, still in situ), with Eton's Brocas Street, Windsor, and the river ferries. I can think of no buildings along the north side of Eton Wick Road that would have existed 150 years ago; between the Slads and Cattle Pound and Sheepcote Road, apart from perhaps the College Sanatorium (1844) and small cottages behind it.

Eton Wick Church had not been built (three years to go), the rail viaduct was little more than ten years old, and built of wood. Three farm houses would have been visible, but were at least 120 metres away, and bordered the Great Common. Incidentally the site of the Sanatorium (now The Sandles) was considered for an Eton workhouse for the homeless in 1834, but the project was dropped in favour of a larger workhouse in Slough (Upton Hospital today).

During the 1880 - 90s era the Temperance Guild was very influential in its aim to combat the effect of alcohol and to hopefully engage the men in worthwhile pursuits. Locally they probably brought about the first allotments in I believe 1894. (Dr. Judith Hunter suggests a year or two earlier). These were on a three acre plot, opposite the Old Parsonage. (These allotments closed in 1994 when the lease expired.) More allotments soon followed. A large site covered what is now Hayward's Mead and extended to the St. Gilberts RC Church. More allotments were created on a strip of Sheepcote Field between the school and Common Road. The Haywards Mead estate ends abruptly opposite Vine Cottage. The Council of the day - Eton Urban - would have liked Hayward Mead to extend further east, but it was not possible to release the Green Belt land, as others have found out since. Incidentally, the land opposite Vine Cottage was worked by my father during the Great War, and had German POW's providing the labour. I often wish I had got more details from Dad, but we all say this when it is too late.

 

During the 1930s the land now occupied by the Scout Movement was used as a camp site. Perhaps never more than six to ten tents, mostly at weekends, but surely an attractive place for Londoners and others. Unfortunately the campers needed to use one of the two paths through the allotments to the village shops and pubs, and they were frequently blamed for produce being stolen from the vegetable plots. 150 years ago the village itself was very different. Along the main road we had the Old Parsonage (then a large residential home with no church connections); a small school (1840) at the main road/Walk Road junction; The Grapes public house (now Silk Route Chinese restaurant), a terrace row of ten small houses (Prospect Place) and 'The Three Horseshoes' pub. Between these sparse dwellings, apart from the two end houses of Prospect Place, which had two rooms up and two down, I understand the other eight of that row had only one up and one down. The toilet blocks were probably 20 yards behind the houses and were shared. 

Originally built as farm cottages, they were occupied into the 1930s. The land between the spaced out houses would have been the long gardens of the homes along Common Road. Having been accustomed to very long plots by todays' standards, residents would have felt the need for an allotment when their land was sold for the main road development of St. Leonards Place, Harding Cottages (now the site of Clifton Lodge), Vine Cottages, Ada Cottage, Bonaccord Cottages (originally Tarrant Cottages), Clyde Place, Welman Cottages, and Palmer Place. In the fullness of time the house names became superfluous, being replaced by street numbers. Grazing cattle on common lands were controlled not by the owner but by an appointed 'Hayward'. The local Hayward had a plot for his own use as part of his 'perks' and this was by, or part of, Church Meadow, Eton. He may have had a plot in the village also, but certainly this is where the name of Hayward Mead is derived from. 

Our area is rich with gravel which is only a few inches below the surface. When this hard core was needed for farm tracks, or perhaps foundations, it was simply dug out and utilised. The consequent pits were then used as rubbish tips, there being no rubbish collections in the years the village had its own Council (1894 — 1934) intent on controlling a very low rate. One such tip was opposite St. John the Baptist Church and was much used by the village school for its empty pottery ink bottles, old slates etc., There were at least five such 'tips' in my childhood, much to the delight of scavenging boys. Perhaps the other very rural appearance of our village was the trees. 

Predominantly elms, there were a few oaks and an occasional ash. They must be a feature of all old Eton Wick village photos with many along the south side of the Great Common and probably as many as 20 round Wheatbutts Field — now an estate. It is only 40 years since most of these succumbed to Dutch Elm disease, although some with their roots in flood water (1947) blew down in a strong wind.

In my next article I hope to write about the Boveney end of the village — west of Bell Lane, which for so long seemed independent of the old village. When Eton Wick had its own Council (1894 — 1934) Boveney Newtown also had its own Council. This tended to polarise the communities. 

Submitted by Frank Bond

Click here to read Our Village April 2013.

This article was originally published in the Eton Wick Newsletter - Our Village as is republished with the kind permission of the Eton Wick Village Hall Committee. Click here to go to the Collection page.

Eton Wick Newsletter: Our Village April 2011

The way things were — Floods 

Seafaring fishermen are quite superstitious and do not like whistling when at sea. They believe it is 'whistling for the wind' which will blow up fiercely. Hopefully, in writing about past floods it will not be tempting providence. 

Eton Wick is reputedly on a flood plain* and I occasionally get asked about past events that I presume is the result of insurance premiums. It would be a comfort to believe the Jubilee River is a definite guarantee of no future flooding locally, but of course, when it comes to weather, nothing can be a certainty. 

As a schoolboy in the early 1930s, I well recall the Eton Wick Road being flooded across the `slads' on at least two or three occasions. This is the first area to be flooded near Eton Wick. The 'Slads' is that grass stretch both north and south of the main road a few yards east of the rail viaduct. On the walk to 'Porny' school we excitedly saw water on the 'slads' south of the road and sure enough on the way home later, the water had risen enough to be across the road and covering both sides of the old grazing land, enough to necessitate the long plank footbridge being erected between the viaduct and the Folly Bridge cattle pound, from where the ground rose suddenly above most flood levels. (See photograph on page 4). The footbridge was quickly constructed by pushing steel handrails through the top of about 30 steel posts permanently in situ across the 'slads' and then fitting planks about 1 — 1½ feet above the ground and secured to brackets fitted to the posts. When not in use, the handrails; brackets and planks were safely stored under one of the viaduct arches. They were not used much after the 1947 flood. Gradually the posts rusted and fell into the grass but the other materials and planks seemed to vanish; perhaps as rumour suggested, were misappropriated. The last of the posts, I understand, went to Windsor as a future item of interest for the local museum. One of the most flooded parts of Eton Wick was along Common Road, although rarely getting into homes. 

History records very serious floods, but in the last 120 years, there were just two that were

really exceptional, the first in 1894 and the next in 1947. In many ways, these were very different in timing and cause. The deeper flood came in November 1894 after heavy rains beyond the river's ability to cope. Coming in early winter made it very difficult for inundated homes to dry their possessions effectively. It was perhaps four months before doors and windows could be opened to the elements. The 1947 flood was quite different. It came in March after six weeks of almost constant snow and rain falls accompanied by hard frosts. The result was a thickness of packed and frozen fall on deeply frozen ground. The improved March weather thawed the surface and, being unable to soak through the frozen ground, found its level on the surface. Perhaps a repeat of the 1947 weather would be beyond even the Jubilee River to cope with. Of course, the 1947 flood did allow for the summer to effectively dry out. This latter flood came about 19 months after the end of WW2 at a time when Eton Wick had no electricity; there was a severe shortage of fuel; food and clothing was still rationed and most of the young (and not so young) were desperately trying to set up home after nearly six years of war service. 

Against this background, I will mention a few particular incidents, but doubtless, those of you who experienced the 1947 flood will have your own favourite memories. My family home was an early 18th Century detached house that stood near the Common Road Jubilee oak tree. In 1894 this house was occupied by a Miss or Mrs Tarrant. In mid-November, the ground floor was flooded and the good lady was obliged to move upstairs. Like many others, she had several chickens and these also went upstairs. The 1947 flood did not get beyond the doorstep but I did see Mother pushing a knitting needle between the living room quarry tiled floor to anxiously measure how much more the water had risen. 

A few homes away lived the village blacksmith, Jack Newell, along with his daughter and her husband, Jennie and Allen Dowson. This was the end house of Hope Cottages which is one side of the lane to Common Road, with Wheatbutts Cottage on the other. Jennie was watching the village policeman coming down the flooded lane to make sure all was well. He suddenly disappeared from sight, so she went through the house to follow his progress. No policeman, but his helmet was being swept away in the flood. The water had concealed a deep hole it had 'washed' in the road and the PC had tumbled into the depths, along with his cycle. 

Wartime shortages were still resulting in food rationing, shortage of almost all goods and building materials, and very inadequate heating. My sister had recently been allocated a house in Eton but was still obliged to get the family food allowance from 'Chantlers' of Eton Wick. To get the supplies to Eton my brother paddled his kayak boat from Sheepcote Road along the flooded Eton Wick Road to the 'slads', then turning right across the Eton Recreation Ground, across Church Meadow and up Brocas Street, where he secured the boat and waded through Eton to Tangier Lane. There was continuous water all the way between Eton Wick church and Windsor Bridge. Many homes, the church and some shops were flooded. The photos we see often did not show the worse or the deepest floods, simply because everybody had too much practical purpose at hand and nobody knew where it was at its worse anyway. When floods are not 'rising' they have turned and are falling. Most roads were flooded and eventually the Eton Wick Road became too deep and hazardous. Workers and shoppers were conveyed to Slough, through Dorney by lorries belonging to R Bond (Contractors). 

A substantial anti-aircraft gun site had recently vacated Donley Common and home seeking ex-service persons had taken over the empty Nissen huts as squatters. Overnight the huts were flooded and women and infants were pushed to safety in a galvanised bath tub, a few by boat. South View residents had food passed up to the bedroom windows by boat. The army used DUKW vehicles to supply small bags of fuel and emergency foods. 

Floods as severe as those have many side effects. When water rises it forces rats to come above ground and there are many more rats than we are normally aware of. Other wildlife is obliged to converge on the remaining dry areas. When floods subside they leave the land and gardens strewn with flotsam —straw, rubbish, wood etc., and after the land is contaminated causing risk of tetanus. A village youngster died after just such an infection in 1947. Hopefully this is the past and we will not see the like again, but doubtless if it comes to it, everybody will do what is necessary — sink or swim. 

Frank Bond 

Above — in March 1947 - using the slads plank bridge. The Willow Tree public house is the higher building. Pub signpost also shown. Willow Tree cottages in the fore. 

Frank Bond 

Click here to read Our Village April 2011.

This article was originally published in the Eton Wick Newsletter - Our Village as is republished with the kind permission of the Eton Wick Village Hall Committee. Click here to go to the Collection page.

The effects of flooding of 2014 were reported on in 15th Issue of Our Village on page 22.

*Note The Environment Agency flood map can be found through the UK Government website.

Flood Planning Map courtesy of the Environment Agency