George Forsdike's Tale
Here's a short extract from George Forsdike's biography Cats & ChrysanthemumsIt was a raw, damp, overcast day, drizzling with rain, early in November 1950 when we had moved back to Suffolk. Clare had not seen the place that I was bringing her to and on this dull wet miserable day, trees dripping with rain, it didn’t look a very inviting place, after leaving where we had been living in comparative luxury. After our belongings had been unloaded into the house, our neighbour introduced herself and made us tea. The neighbour assured Clare, that when the sun shone she would have a much better impression of the surroundings. After a couple of weeks we had settled down and life had become enjoyable on this large country estate, as Clare knew that I had obtained a job that I liked where I had been engaged as a second gardener to look after the glasshouse department.
Shrubland Park Estate, home of the de Saumerez family, extended over several hundred acres. It included an area of 40 acres of ornamental gardens. A 4 ½ acre walled garden with a further 2 ½ acres surrounding the wall, was being used as a market garden to contribute to the running costs of the Estate, which had risen sharply since the end of the Second World War. Many of the features of the ornamental gardens, which once employed 40 men, had been reduced to a more manageable level and now employed just 4 men. The market garden was a separate unit from the ornamental gardens and was staffed by 4 men including the head gardener, who had overall control of both units; there was also occasional seasonal help.
Moving into the house in Shrubland was not quite what we had become used to. It was a cottage joined to the water tower, which supplied the estate with its own water supply. Being set amongst trees, when seen from a distance, it gave the appearance of a church. When the water level in the tank dropped we would be subjected to the drone of the pump as it refilled the tank, something that we eventually got used to. We had a small kitchen with a copper in one corner but no electric cooker, instead, there was the usual, old-fashioned Suffolk cooking range, a good- sized living room and an upstairs bathroom but it had only cold water. There were two bedrooms. The Lady of the estate came to welcome Clare one afternoon and remarked that we were lucky to have a bathroom as most of the houses on the estate did not have one. Clare retorted that she had been used to hot and cold water in the bathroom for many years. Here we had to heat the water in the copper and carry it in buckets, upstairs to the bathroom. How primitive was that? The toilet was a chemical arrangement, an Elsan, and it was located in a brick cavity under the water tower beside the back door. This was rather a comedown for us as we had started our married life in comparative luxury. It was however, better than some of the other jobs I had looked at. Employees were not expected to enjoy the same facilities as their employers.
Clare put up with all the inconvenience because she knew that I had acquired a job that I liked and it was a good place for her once again to have a cat. Living inside the Park with no public road running past there was no fear of it being run over on a busy highway.
Always a cat somewhere needs a good home. As soon as the family knew that Clare wanted one, it was not long before someone came up with the answer. This small young grey female was brought over one weekend for Clare’s approval; it was the last one of a litter and had been given the name of Timmy. How could she resist this friendly little creature? Of course, she couldn’t. Timmy settled in with us very quickly as she was smothered with affection.
In those days tradesmen used to bring their wares around to the houses; the baker called three times a week, the butcher called twice a week, milk came from the farm and groceries were delivered from the local grocer once a week. Our means of transport were bicycles although journeys into town were by bus.
Three months into my new job, I was to be required to drive the market garden van occasionally. I could not drive at the time and so the chauffeur was ordered to teach me. Fred Puncher did not have a lot of chauffeuring to do so he had plenty of time on his hands. One of his other duties was looking after a flock of hens who provided a supply of eggs to the mansion. Fred was easy to get on with and an excellent driving instructor. We would go out as often as we could, mostly in my own time, and use either the market garden van, the Ford 8 estate run around car or even Fred’s own car, which was a Singer 10. I wasn’t allowed in Her Ladyship’s Jaguar.
After a few weeks, Fred thought that I was ready for my driving test. This was arranged and on the appointed day, we went to the test centre in Ipswich in the Ford 8. After driving around the town doing all the manoeuvres that were required, we arrived back at the test centre and I was presented with a piece of paper stating that I had passed my test. Everyone was delighted, including me, when we returned to Shrubland without my L-plates. Of course, driving tests in those days were not quite as rigorous as they are now.
posted by Suffolk Notes @ 10:32 am
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