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dubious and fuses would blow regularly
with no obvious cause, plunging us all
into darkness. When the house came
to be re-wired many years later and the
perished rubber of some of the original
wiring was exposed, it was clear we
were lucky to have escaped an electrical
conflagration.
The garden was also large. There
were two garages, a three-stall stables,
hay loft, outhouse and coal shed. We
believed that the house had once been
owned by a carrier/carter. This notion
is corroborated by the two hooks under
the overhang outside the front door of
(now) number 67 – hooks from which
hung the carrier’s insignia. The garden
may have been large but with a good-size
lawn, sandpit, large vegetable-growing
area and chicken run, it wasn’t quite
large enough. My father negotiated
to keep a beehive over the wall in St
Michael’s churchyard and had ladders
semi-permanently in place to climb over
the six-foot wall to maintain it.
The larger garage had once been
the maid’s living quarters and came
with a dormer wi ndow, tiled fireplace
and parquet floor. When we arrived, all
the major rooms still had bell pushes
to summon servants and there was an
indicator board in the passage outside
the kitchen. As a teenager, I hijacked the
bell wiring to install an internal phone
system with an exchange where the
indicator board once was – very useful in
a house of this size.
T he T rusty S ervant
(tuck) shop (now Cornflowers) was
on the corner with, upstairs, the staff
restaurant. The 1950s saw the tail end of
the tradition of bachelor dons and this
was where many of them ate. In College
Street, P&G Wells, the bookshop, looked
exactly as it does today.
Bread was supplied twice a week;
milk was delivered daily by horse-drawn
milk float from Wharf Hill Dairy just
beyond Black Bridge; and the laundry
was collected weekly: Domum Laundry
was on the canal bank beyond the
College boathouse. The drive accessing
our garages, stables and garden had
large wooden gates facing the street. In
one of these was a picket gate marked
‘Tradesmen’s Entrance’ through which all
deliveries were received.
The weekly grocery order from Crofts
would be delivered by Mr Bulpit on the
grocer’s bicycle. Cars were few, although
petrol rationing had ended in 1950 and
the streets were safe for children. I was
permitted to roam alone from the age of
seven, and cycle unescorted into town
when nine.
The only forbidden area was Canon
Street, out of bounds also to College
boys, I believe, and with a reputation
Down the street near the corner with
College Street was Crofts the grocer
(now Kingsgate Wine & Provisions),
Richards the greengrocer (now the Saint
George), and Mrs Meniss at the Post
Office (the Victorian letter box remains
in the window frame). Opposite these
was Mr Church, the watch and clock
repair shop (now the large window
of the extended Wykeham Arms);
further up the street was the Crosby
& Lawrence sports shop (Winchester
College Enterprises) and, in the double-
bow window frontage which is now part
of Toyes, Gieves the tailor. The School
5
as a red-light district. Although free to
wander elsewhere, I would never venture
there. Likewise, the Wykeham Arms was
then deemed disreputable and a ‘no-go’
area among many College families.
On the pavement beyond Canon
Street and positioned to be visible down
College Street as well as Kingsgate
Street was a police telephone post with
a flashing light on top to summon the
beat constable when needed. Not that
there was any crime locally that I recall.
No house in the street kept its front door
locked and bicycles were parked against
the curb unsecured. The only police
incidents I remember were when lorries
became stuck under Kingsgate arch
– the ancient voussoirs of the central
arch, battered and grooved by those
collisions, replaced by newer stonework
today. Of course, one reason why house
security could be lax was that there was
little of value inside that could be easily
stolen; portable, pinchable, appliances
hardly existed. We didn’t have a TV
until the ‘60s and our valve radio was so
substantial that it would have needed a
vehicle to take it away.
Electric streetlight had arrived in
Kingsgate Street, with lamps on wires