I wonder if I'm the only one old enough to remember Windmill Lane, and in particular the building shown in my attachment. I recently purchased a photograph taken shortly after a
bomb destroyed the Chichester pub which was on the corner of Windmill Lane and Evelyn St. 1943. It revived the curiosity I always felt when I passed this building 80 years ago.
It looks similar to the houses next door, but had an industrial gate on the ground floor, and no windows.....just an open space above the door.
The house next door is I believe No. 2, and I know who occupied it between 1930 and 1940. An old map from c.1900 suggests that there may have been a way to access the school from W.L. at this point. I have looked in several Directories going back to 1880 but can find no reference to a business at this location. My only guess is that it could have been a house, later converted to a loading bay for horse-drawn carts. Anybody know?
Ron King
26 comments:
my grandparents (Cyril and Rose Burrows ) lived on the corner a few houses down. Their back garden was bordered by the school boundary wall. Maybe the industrial gate was a side entrance to the school Who knows. Its all gone now.
Looking at photos of old Deptford on google,i was inturigued by a picture of a bombed shop in Windmill Lane. I couldnt work out its location and was beginning to think it may have been a mistake when, on enlarging the frame, in the distance the Windmill Lane Level Crossing can be seen and beyond, the gates of the Victualling yard. The shop must have traded by the Surrey Canal next to the steps of the Surrey Canal Footbridges and after (or during) the war the site became the factory of Mussellwhites who made distemper (a type of emulsion paint) my mother worked there after the war part time. The row of 4 terrace houses by the shop survived the war and a terraced row almost exactly opposite also survived. My family moved into an upstairs flat in the middle house no 61 in 1948/49. Apart from Jones's Corner Shop in South Street, all of the buildings in the photograph on both sides of Windmill Lane up to the yard were destroyed including Swarves of Grove Street including The Britania opposite Dudmans Dock and the Evelyn Arms opposite the Victualling Gates.
Hello Anonymous (Sep 2018 21:19) I was intrigued by your post mostly because I lived in No 61 Windmill Lane upper flat, until 1940. I have not seen the picture you describe,and would be grateful if you can tell me where I can find it. I have been looking for any pic of that part of WL without success. I can tell you that Musselwhites were at that address before the war certainly in 1930. If they were not there in 1940, I wouldn't be here to tell the tale! My grandmothers sister was living in No 61 in 1948/9 Her name was Alice Webb, maybe you knew her. Like to hear from you.
Ron King (mail)
Hello Ron King im Alan Parish ( anonymous) I was really pleased and surprised on reading your post to find someone who actually lived at the same address number 61. Do you remember the shop that I believed was by the steps of the foot bridge crossing the Surrey Canal during the war? If it wasnt there , ive got it completely wrong. Musselwhites also had a factory/yard behind our row of houses, the entrance was in Sayes Street. It must have been about 49/50 when we moved into number 61 ( I was about 1 years old) and Alice and her mother Mrs Webb had the ground floor flat. We shared the house (and outside toilet) till we were all relocated mid 1963 to make way for the Pepys Estate. Alice and Mrs Webb had relatives in the ground floor flat next door. I cant recall first names but for as long as I knew them Mr Webb owned a motor bike and side car. No one else on our side of the Surrey Canal in Windmill Lane owned a vehicle of any kind. Mrs Jones who ran the corner shop cross Sayes Street had a car but she didnt live there. The photo of the bombed building is on google search engine (Windmill Lane Deptford). It is covered by yellow spots to stop piracy I suppose I have tried fo purchase the picture but got worried about security etc. There is a terriffic aerial photo of the railway wharf and if enlarged you can make out number 61 and the nissen huts that replaced the bombed houses on our side of Windmill Lane. These temporary had electricity and bathrooms and were surprisingly comfortable. We still had gas light, outside toilets and tin baths hanging from the back yard fence. They were eventualy relocated leaving vast areas of bomb sites for us kids to play on and it was some years later that we were moved out. Hope to hear from you again. Alan.
Hello Alan, Thanks for your reply. I have the photo of the bombed shop,and can tell you exactly where it was. If you would like to send an email to ronaykay2@gmail.com I can send you a map, with its position marked. I also have a pic of a train at the level crossing in WL I'd be happy to share. Regards.....Ron
Hello all, I think I came across Ron in another Forum but my dad and grandparents lived in No 2 Windmill Lane in late 20's until it was hit. Dad passed a couple of years back and he didn't talk much of that time other than they had been bombed out three times in total and after the third found is mum and aunt under a tub in a stair closet, all safe. Dad did tell me that they lived with another family in No 2, and husband collected coins. I believe he died in the 40's and his coin collection was left to dad. My brother and I still have them. It is interesting to know where number 2 was.
Cheers Richard Linden.
Hello All, I think I came across Ron in another forum. My dad and his parents lived in No 2 Windmill Lane from the late 20's to when it was hit. Dad didn't say a lot about that time. There is one story of the third time it was hit ad they found gran and her sister under a tub and staircase. They also had a another couple with them. The gentleman collected coins and when he passed suddenly in the late 30's or so the collection was left to my dad, which we still have. Often wondered where No 2 was. Dad did say that Windmill Lane was one of the first places hit when the Blitz started. Thanks Richard Linden
Hi Ron. Interesting to learn that No 2 is in this photo. In coming across this page wondering if it was my dad and grandparents that you know of in 2 or the other couple my dad said lived with them. He died suddenly in late 30s or before the blitz. He left my dad his coin collection which we still have. Trust hope your doing well. Richard Linden.
Hi Everyone, This is great to read peoples memories, but please could I direct my comment to Richard Linden - my grandfather (Alf Barnes) also lived at number 2 in 1924 with his parents (this was his address on his wedding certificate, and I think it's possible that my Dad and yours were cousins - did your grandparents have a connection to Hayling Island at all??
Hi everyone. My Great Grandmother lived in Windmill Lane for a few years, number 39.Her father, John Fleming, was a barge builder in 1901.
Hi Ron, My mum and nan lived at 61 windmill la. They were both named Alice Webb. They moved from WL to Trinity estate, which is where I was born.so I'd guess we are distant relatives.
Martin
Hi Alan, Mr Webb was my uncle, his first name was Alf and he owned a motorcycle and sidecar.
Him and my aunt and their two daughters moved from WL to Chiltern grove.
Martin
Hi Martin,I remember you well as a small boy.I think Alan will know , your Gran was my Gran's sister. Ron
Hi Ron, this is great. I've been trying to contact you on e-mail fo a couple of years and l was worried. Just by accident l came back to this and saw you and Martins correspondence. I hope you are well.
Hi Martin, thanks for your lmfo about your uncle Alfie Webb. There was a tall telegraph pole outside his house and a cat got stuck on top.Alf went up like a rocket, he didnt need a ladder. I lived with my family next door at no 61 in the flat above your nan and mum.l remember your mum was pregnant butldon't remember seeing her, perhaps she was in hospital and it was at that time we moved out to Downham Catford. Take care Alan
My mums family heard lived at number 62 in 1937
Ron. I am looking into the Shaw Family I think William Henry Shaw lived at number 2 in 1890's and I know his Son James Thomas Shaw lived at Number 7 1901 and his daughter Minna Shaw (Phillips) lived there till 1962. When the pub was hit half the roof landed in number 7 garden, I am old enough to remember visiting aunt Min (my paternal grandmother late 1950 early 60s. anyone remember the Greengrosers with the miner bird.
Hi Ron, My grandparents lived at number 7 Minna and George Phillips Before that Number 7 was occupied be James Thomas Shaw my great great grandfather I would love a photo if anyone has one.
Hi Samantha. Is your dad Leslie Barnes?
Hi Samantha. Is Leslie your dad or uncle. My grandmother is still in Hayling Island. You can email me at rclu@shaw.ca. Would love to connect.
William Godrfrey Ide lived at No 2 Windmill Lane before moving to No 4. He died in 1941. His wife was Harriet 'Hetty' Ide nee Burn. My Great Grandfather, William Philip Burn, lived with him for a while at No2. William Thomas Burn lived at No6 with his wife Mary nee White. I have a number of letters written by Mildred 'Millie' Burn to her sister in America describing the bombing during WW2. She lived at No6 and 3 Alloa Road during the war.
Hi, William Thomas Burn lived at no 6 Windmill Lane with his wife Mary, nee White, along with his daughter Mildred 'Millie' Tipping. He Kept chickens in the back garden. She worked at Convoyes. I have letters from her to her sister in America describing the bombing during the war. William Godfrey Ide lived at No 4 with his wife Hetty nee Burn, william Burn's sister. Her father, William Philip Burn, was at No 2 in 1912. I think the Ide's might have lived there before moving to No 2.
Hope this helps, Adrian Burns. (The 's' was added later)
Did anyone know any of the Smith family living at 27 Windmill Lane
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[The following letter was written by Millicent Burn, later Tipping, to her sister in Burns,
Oregon, Millicent 'Millie' was An executive secretary for Convoys in London. Millie lived with her mother ("Mum"), father, and two of her brothers, Laurence ("Lol") and Will in 6 Windmill Lane, Deptford, London.]
TUESDAY, APRIL 15, 1941 - 6 Windmill Lane, London, S.E.8
Dearest Kath, Herb and Cherubs,
We haven't received Edie's long-promised letter. Am almost sure that it has gone down on one of the mail boats. Mum has just asked me if I "fancy anything." I retorted, "Yes, an orange, lemon, banana and some chocolate!" Her only response was, "You can have them if you go out and buy them!" We haven't seen any for months! Onions, too, are things of the past. I have heard that it is possible to buy tomatoes at [an exorbitant price] a pound, but I haven't seen any. However, there is still plenty to eat.
Saw Nell T. going to the park shelters the other night, complete with bedding and oil stove. She looked a proper refugee. I don't know how people can go down those mud holes night after night. I have never been down them, but I can guess the scene. Seeing people going down with their bundles and emerging the next morning, perhaps homeless, affects me more than anything else in this war. The future should hold something very lovely for such people to compensate them in part for the sordidness of their present existence.
One night I shall never forget!! It was our worst experience ever. The raid started at [censored] and continued in concentrated intensity until [censored], when after a short lull "Jerry" dropped his final load and the "Raiders passed" signal went. Honestly, I didn't sit down once. From 9:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m., I was continually fire-fighting. Taking shelter was out of the question. They were dropping extremely heavy bombs—at the same time keeping up a constant stream of incendiaries. One had to be very quick to pounce on them, otherwise home and belongings would have gone up in smoke. It is amazing what one can do in such circumstances. When I think of myself vaulting walls and lugging pails of water about endlessly, I wonder where I got the strength to do it.
Again the Burn's luck held. Our only loss through the night was window glass. I had to climb over the fence to get to a fire-bomb in Barnes'. Fortunately, it fell on the shed in the garden, so was easily tackled. Had a more exciting time with the one in Warne's though. It fell through the roof into the top front room, and was soon blazing terrifically. I yelled to some fellows who were running to the scene, and we quickly had the stirrup pump working. There was a constant stream of people dashing through No. 6 to get water for the pump. I was upstairs with one boy, when some others joined us. Actually, there were too many on the job, so I went downstairs and took my turn at the pump. And wasn't I glad I was wearing a steel helmet!!! Somebody had just relieved me at the pump, and I was standing with a pail of water ready for a quick change-over, when there was a roar and part of the ceiling fell on me—knocking my hat flying. Apart from being half choked with dust and grit in my eye, I was quite all right. What added to the excitement for me was that, in groping my way out to the fresh air, I put first one foot into a bath of water and with the next step the other foot into a pail of water. Anyway, I emerged very dirty but very triumphant, because we had succeeded in putting the fire out. What had actually happened was that when I was standing resting, I was right under the spot where the fire-bomb upstairs was burning through the floor. Silly things one does. I hadn't given it a thought!
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All this time heavy calibre bombs were rushing to earth, but honestly, there was so much to do that nobody even bothered to duck. People are pretty wonderful at times like this, Kath, and you should be very proud of your English blood. I could go on and on telling you of how perfectly ordinary people have put all fear behind them and work frantically to put out fires and rescue people amidst a hail of bombs and working in a hell that seems incredible! All this will be written into the history of England, but nobody who has not experienced these things can possibly conceive the depths of courage that lies in a person.
I did wish most earnestly that Mum was out of London. She is very brave. I have tried to persuade her, but I know the thought makes her very unhappy. I understand that very easily though. All her roots are here, and it is not easy for elderly persons to transplant themselves. She would sooner be with us and share our experiences. There is a song we sing over here. It is "London I cannot leave you; London I cannot go." And it is true. Once a Londoner, always a Londoner. You cannot be torn away. People who have been bombed out two or three times and who have undergone the most harrowing experiences still remain. All the desolation around brings a lump to one's throat, but it also makes one blazingly angry. We are not going to suffer all this in vain.
On this particular night, when the lull came, I ran over to Ethel's to see how they were. The ground was thick with masonry and objects that had been hurled through the air. It was 1:00 a.m. Win and Enid were in the shelter, but Ethel was sitting in Win's dining room. She greeted me with the words, "You look as though a good wash would do you good!" Dear Ethel! It's true I did look a sight. I hadn't thought of looking in a mirror. I was caked with dirt and mud. Of course, when the ceiling fell down I was made pretty filthy with water used for extinguishing the fire. My face was streaked with it. I was so tired I could hardly stand up, and told Ethel I would probably go to sleep. Ethel's flat was in a mess! Huge chunks of masonry, which had been hurled into the air by bombs, had fallen down at a terrific speed and smashed through the roofs and ceilings of three of her rooms. Only the kitchen remained intact. One couldn't see very much in the dark, except the sky shining through. The electric wiring had been torn down, of course, but we didn't shine a torch because it would have shone through the roof. However, Ethel was rather philosophical about the whole thing and remarked that at least she had been spared fire and water. Mrs. Smith's flat opposite was burnt out. I don't know how Win keeps her scullery door on. Another part of the wall fell in on this night. If they lose much more they won't have anything to hinge the door on.
I am sorry to say that the Old Firm received its death blow during the proceedings. Of course, there is an enormous amount of salvage work to be carried out which will take some time.
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We were very glad to have Will home with us for a few days Easter. Actually I didn't see much of him as I took advantage of his presence to go to Great Billing to see Dora. I couldn't have gone otherwise, because there must be someone here to look after Mum. Dora has given birth to her third son, Michael Eric William Burn. Sid nearly shed tears of disappointment. Everyone hoped for a girl. It's a dear little thing, but it is too early to say whom he resembles. Dora certainly has her hands full. She's not a very patient person, so I think she has stuck things pretty well. She is living in a thatched cottage with absolutely no convenience. There is no electricity, only oil lamps. That wouldn't be so bad, but the only water available is well water. The well outside Dora's back door is suitable for washing, but not for drinking. Therefore, for every drop of water, she has to lug a pail about 150 yards down the lane and round the corner. Terribly inconvenient with three children.
I stayed two days, returning to London on Sunday afternoon. Dora was very glad to see me, and when I wasn't washing children, etc., it did me good to see some green fields and trees again. This is the first break I have had for a long, long, time. One is apt to forget that life doesn't only consist of work and war.
However, I must confess I was glad to be in London again. I was scared lest London would have another blitz while I was away. It was a queer experience for a Londoner to go into Northampton and see the people so untouched by the war. The feeling is hard to describe, but consisted mostly of contempt. The way they pushed each other about at the coach station was disgusting, I thought, and in great contrast to the help-thy-neighbor attitude of the blitzkrieged Londoners. The last straw as far as I was concerned was to see "MYSTERY TOUR STARTING AT 3:00 P.M.," etc., etc., advertised. It seemed criminal to waste the nation's petrol on mystery tours. But that is the way Northampton is carrying on anyway.
So when my train drew in at Euston Station I felt a great relief. I thought, "Come what may; bombs, pain or worse; at least I am home again in the place I'd most rather be." You can keep your blooming old safety—it is all right for a weekend.
I'll try and take a few snapshots this weekend. Cheerio and love, dears, Mill
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