Introducing Earthworks, our new community project at Treacle Valley.
Earthworks Spring Gathering
Today was our spring gathering – the team dodged showers to clear some areas of Travellers Joy from the wood and enjoyed a story from Kev around the fire.
Podcast – Creative Cullompton
With guests Vik and Hannah of Creative Cullompton. In the podcast we talk about the amazing Golgotha at St Andrews Church, enthuse about the sheer volume of the local schoolchildren, discuss Creative Cullompton’s next projects and hint darkly at the time Kev nearly got off the train in the wrong county.
Cullompton School Workshops
Our role in this project has been to deliver educational sessions to the two primary schools in Cullompton. Here we talk about the structure of the sessions and inspiration behind the educational content we delivered.
The Great Fire of Cullompton
One of the lesser-known stories of Cullompton is that of the great fire of 1839. We used this tale as the centrepiece of our sessions, and the children had great fun retelling it themselves.
The Gory Story of Tom Austin
On the High Street project we have featured a heavily-edited version of the story of Tom Austin, a local highwayman, and Kev has been absolutely desperate to tell the whole tale in a less sanitised format. Here it is. It’s pretty gruesome.
Chelston Heritage Evening
Our Chelston Heritage Evenings are back! Come and find out more about the heritage of Chelston at the Chelston Manor on Tuesday 8th November, it would be great to see you.
Apotropaic Marks
Visiting the Walronds we found these interesting circular carvings on the fireplaces and doorways. This is the fascinating story of the witches’ marks, also known as apotropaic marks, scratched into surfaces to stop evil spirits from gaining access to the room.
The Bigge Fountain
Taleblazers was an idea that Kev and I had been discussing vaguely for several years, but it was only in lockdown that we started to take it more seriously. The Bigge Fountain, officially called simply Chelston Drinking Fountain, played a big part in getting our social enterprise off the ground.
Victoria and I live very close to one another, so when we were allowed to meet in twos to go for no more than an hour’s walk we would regularly set off together to stretch our legs. Our little rambles took us all around Chelston, through the arterial streets connecting up its green parks, never quite as far as the sea front for fear of being asked our business by the police. As we walked things would catch our eye and we would wonder what they were. What was the little marker stone outside the school? How old is the Chelston Manor? Was the first occupant of Sharon House really called Sharon? And as we started to answer these questions with the power of Google, we shared our snippets of information with one another, and the idea of the Chelston Heritage Trail started to form in our minds.
We always felt a bit sad walking past the Bigge Fountain, next to the little green where Walnut Road meets Old Mill Road. It has been there since 1897, when Chelston was going through a rush of development and, presumably, a burst of civic pride. A hundred metres to the north the new church of St Matthews was nearing completion, and the fountain is sited at the bottom of a little avenue of lime trees that leads up to its door. It’s a nice spot to have a quiet moment to imagine upper Chelston as it would have been back then: the age of the automobile has left the area looking a little less grand than it would have been in Victorian times.
The fountain was installed by the remarkable Elizabeth and Francis Bigge of Hennapyn (the largest villa in Chelston until its demolition). Francis Bigge was born in Northumberland in 1820, joined the Navy at 15 and before he turned 20 years old, doubtless helped on his way by good family connections, was living as a pioneer in Australia. He ‘squatted’ on Crown Land with his brother, survived encounters with escaped convicts and eventually became a politician (the camp he originally founded grew and is now the city of Grantchester). He returned to England briefly in 1853 and married Elizabeth before returning to Australia where he enjoyed a long political career before returning to England in 1873. They retired to Cockington where Elizabeth was one of the leading lights of the local anti-vivisection movement. Their love of animals is well represented on the fountain: the water spout is a great swan-neck curve of metal which ends in the head of some fantastical Celtic beast, while below there are water bowls for dogs to drink from. The fountain is grade II listed, and the designation includes the railings and green behind – now mostly occupied by an electricity substation. I always feel a little sad when I visit, this formerly grand little meeting spot now utterly transformed by the arrival of the automobile, flooded by rivers of tarmac, even the fountain itself now normally hidden behind a parked car.
These places however are fundamental to our understanding of our ‘home patch’. They remind us of the rich lives of people that once lived in our part of town, the people who developed it and shaped it, even as their life stories fade from living memory. It’s natural to aspire to leave some kind of legacy, a tangible impact on your community, something that people will look at and remember you. The Bigge Fountain is more than just a fountain. It’s a fragment of the Victorian era looking back at us, a reminder of the days when these streets belonged to horses and dogs and people, who would have all stopped for a refreshing drink as they passed by.
25-30 Rosery Road
Next time you take a stroll down Old Mill Road, turn right at the bottom opposite the park into Rosery Road, and you may notice something strange. Number 25-30 are superficially similar to the other houses, but they are built of a different colour brick to the houses either side. Look more closely and you’ll see that the lintels above the doors and windows also have a slightly different pattern. Once you’ve noticed, it’s glaringly obvious that something has happened to those few houses in the middle.
Walking these quiet streets now, it seems hard to believe that World War Two ever came to Chelston. According to a log kept at St Marychurch Fire Station, Torquay was raided by the Luftwaffe no less than 21 times, most horrifically in May 1943 when 40 people were killed, including 23 children at Sunday School in St Marychurch. It is hard to imagine the terror that must have accompanied every one of the 643 air raid warnings that rang out over Torquay.
Chelston’s worst attack was a few months earlier, on 4th September 1942 just before 7pm. A German plane flew over Torquay town centre, spraying people with machine gun fire on Tor Hill Road and a little further on targeting the railway with two high-explosive bombs. Neither hit its intended target. One overshot slightly and hit the houses on Rosery Road, the other landed another hundred or so metres on at Dornafield, just above the shops on Old Mill Road. A photo which has appeared in the ‘Bygones’ section of local newspaper the Herald Express shows how complete the destruction was.
The archive at the Devon Heritage website lists the civilian casualties of World War Two, and thanks to this list we have a record of those who died in the bombing:
- Adelaide Mabel Baxter, aged 63, died at Dornaford
- Beatrice Mabel Bickford, 49, at no 26 Rosery Road
- Midgley Booth, 59, at no 28
- Florence Catherine Gillard, 38, at no 27
- Minnie Gladys Martin, 50, a civilian air raid warden who lived on Sherwell Valley Road
- Frederick Webber, 64, who lived on nearly Mallock Road
Joan Brotherton (15), sisters Cecily and Mona Withers-Lancashire (56 and 57), Edith Fogwell (68), Annie Louise Harris (56), and Mabel Margaret Hogg (31) all died in the same raid on Tor Hill Road. Doris Beatrice Annie Coad, 36, was injured and later died, but I have not found a record of where she was injured.
Although no deaths are recorded on this date in the St Marychurch log, Joseph Herbert Large is recorded as having died aged 77 at 28 Rathmore Road in Chelston on 13th February 1943.
The story of Frederick Webber is a poignant one. Born in 1888, his parents moved into Mallock Road from Taunton some time after the street was built in the early 1900s and presumably he either moved with them or inherited the house. His elder brother, Private Edward Courtney Webber, served in the Guards Machine Gun Regiment in the First World War and died in August 1918 aged 35. Frederick and Edward’s parents lost one of their sons in each of the world wars.
We are particularly interested in the backgrounds of the above people, and would love to hear from anyone who can add anything to the story of this tragic day.