Tower and Town, February 2017 (view the full edition)Marlborough Childhood (part II)Mark Clements from Yorkshire continues his boyhood memories of Marlborough in the 1960s and 1970s (continued from Tower and Town, February 2016). Where was Health and Safety when we were able to buy catapults, peashooters, spud guns and a 6-inch bowie knife for scout camp? I also melted lead in a saucepan to make ledgers. My loving Mum allowed us to range freely into the surrounding countryside with a "be home for tea". We took tin baths into the River Og, and strapped oil cans together for a raft. I waded about in the River Kennet at Stoney Bridges and my other Nan took me in to dry my clothes by her fire before going home. At Nan's house by the Common I caught butterflies for fun, hundreds of them, always letting them go. Stones were painted gold to be gold nuggets. Rose petals were plucked to make perfume. At home, Mum used to string Pelham puppets while I made the boxes up. During the power blackouts in the early 1970's Dad brought home a generator and a car headlamp, saving on candles but making up for it with the noise. At that time we lived in The Parade opposite Hart's Bakery with their enticing window displays. One of the highlights of Christmas was gazing at the window of Duck's toy shop in the High Street, or climbing the stairs at WH Smith's, when it was in the Merchant's House, to see all the toys and goodies. The George Lane blacksmith's shop had all the tools hung by the stable door and a brazier going inside. The talk was that Cromwell had his horse shod there. We bravely walked through the abandoned railway tunnel at Postern Hill and learnt the true meaning of the light at the end of the tunnel; it was cold, dark and it took for ever to get through. At the other end we sat down while one of our number recounted the ghost train, which you could see if you returned on 25 October at midnight to where it had crashed and the passengers were killed. I never saw it...but I never went back at midnight. We dug for old pot lids by the Victorian dump near Savernake Hospital and our diggings somewhat changed the landscape. We cycled everywhere. We fished at the column pond in Savernake Forest and at the carp pond. Who remembers visiting the town dump by the Common? We went playing over there, until one day we found dozens of poisoned rats. We found stray golf balls in the verges by the golf course and sold them for a few pence. We made a guy with newspaper stuffed into clothes and pushed him round in a wheelbarrow for our pennies. Tennis at the old Marlborough club's wooden hut by the Common was great: a few friendly matches, then a civilised cup of tea by grass courts. I remember seeing David Milford, the famous College rackets player who won world titles, playing there. He was nearly 80 at the time but it was a pleasure to watch him and his still silky shots. Who could leave out Treacle Bolly by the College? Sticklebacks sucking onto worms with no hooks required; sledging down the hill, trying to stop before the river and coming home with hands so cold they were agony. We went to the College assault course to try it out... jumping gaps, scrabbling through tunnels and swinging on ropes ... and to the range to find spent bullet cases for polishing. I jumped down from the brick wall at the back of the range, which seemed about twenty feet high to me then. Marlborough Mop meant braving the rotor, a spinning cylinder from which, when it was fast enough, the floor went away leaving you pinned to the cylinder walls. I seem to recall motorcycles going round walls at the Mop as well, with the rider parallel to the ground. The boxing ring by St Peter's Church had the trainer standing outside with his boxer offering any fool £50 or similar if they could stay standing after three rounds. We all duly paid and watched the ordeal of the poor sop who had volunteered, with the Queensberry rule book seemingly surplus to requirements. I'd like to thank, without naming you as you know who you are, the friends who shared these good times free-ranging with me. I like the fact that Marlborough has changed relatively little since my childhood and Samuel Pepys if he returned could still get his bearings. A lovely town and a great place to have grown up. Mark Clements |