No 172 Hamstead Road, BirminghamThe year of 1936 was a dramatic one. The old King George V died in the January, and his eldest son Edward VIII succeeded him. Then came the drama of Edward's relationship with Mrs Simpson, his refusal to reign without her beside him as his wife, and his eventual abdication, leading to his younger brother's reluctant accession to the throne. I remember reading that the new Queen Elizabeth said something to the effect that this was a heavy honour to bear.
The year was dramatic for my family as well. When it was discovered that my father's accountant had made off with all the business funds, it became necessary to sell the garage and repair shop, which included our home, and we moved to Birmingham to live with my maternal grandfather. Following the death of my grandmother three years earlier, my grandfather was living alone in his large, solid Victorian house in Handsworth. I have been surprised to find I have a very old photograph of it taken presumably in the late 1930s. It appears to be a semi-detached house, which I did not remember; it is curious that the two halves look so different.
Downstairs there was a porch and a large entrance hall, with a dining room on the left and a sitting room on the right. Behind the sitting room was another living room, probably what was called a ‘morning room’, though I don’t remember if it caught the early morning sun. Behind the dining room was a huge roomy kitchen, just the sort to accommodate a cook and several kitchen maids – though if it ever did I was not aware of it. Behind that again was a scullery, and there were certainly some outbuildings about which I am now rather vague.
Up a broad staircase, with a window half way up, were the first floor rooms, comprising my brother’s nursery, my grandfather’s bedroom, my parents’ room, the lavatory, the bathroom, and my bedroom. The bath had a broad mahogany surround, on which there was room for an enormous shell which held the soap. The lavatory had a solid seat in matching mahogany. Up another flight were more rooms, though I only remember my grandfather’s study, a place I might not enter without his permission, as it was where he kept his collections. He was a well-known entomologist, and spent most of his spare time either out in the country, collecting insects with his big net, or in his study mounting his captures in trays, and presumably studying, cataloguing and writing about them, for he would be shut away for hours up there at the top of the house. After he died my mother presented his collections to the Natural History Museum.
My grandfather, (whose name was Colbran or 'Col'), could at times seem rather stern and daunting, but he had very twinkly eyes, and as long as we did not disturb him when he was busy, he was really quite benign, if rather remote. I did not like kissing him though: he had a bristly moustache, and used to kiss my on the lips, which I found distasteful. [It is something I never attempt to do with children, as for me that has an intimacy quite inappropriate for a child.]
Very soon after we had come to live with my grandfather the new King George VI and his family paid a visit to Birmingham. I remember that we managed to find a place along the route of their drive, and to catch a very fleeting glimpse of the two young princesses who, I saw, were of a similar age to myself. I believe that the next time I saw them was heavily veiled behind the darkened windows of a car in their father’s funeral cortege in 1952. And I have seen the queen once in St Albans, at a time when she and I were already ’getting along a bit’!
Up a broad staircase, with a window half way up, were the first floor rooms, comprising my brother’s nursery, my grandfather’s bedroom, my parents’ room, the lavatory, the bathroom, and my bedroom. The bath had a broad mahogany surround, on which there was room for an enormous shell which held the soap. The lavatory had a solid seat in matching mahogany. Up another flight were more rooms, though I only remember my grandfather’s study, a place I might not enter without his permission, as it was where he kept his collections. He was a well-known entomologist, and spent most of his spare time either out in the country, collecting insects with his big net, or in his study mounting his captures in trays, and presumably studying, cataloguing and writing about them, for he would be shut away for hours up there at the top of the house. After he died my mother presented his collections to the Natural History Museum.
My grandfather, (whose name was Colbran or 'Col'), could at times seem rather stern and daunting, but he had very twinkly eyes, and as long as we did not disturb him when he was busy, he was really quite benign, if rather remote. I did not like kissing him though: he had a bristly moustache, and used to kiss my on the lips, which I found distasteful. [It is something I never attempt to do with children, as for me that has an intimacy quite inappropriate for a child.]
Very soon after we had come to live with my grandfather the new King George VI and his family paid a visit to Birmingham. I remember that we managed to find a place along the route of their drive, and to catch a very fleeting glimpse of the two young princesses who, I saw, were of a similar age to myself. I believe that the next time I saw them was heavily veiled behind the darkened windows of a car in their father’s funeral cortege in 1952. And I have seen the queen once in St Albans, at a time when she and I were already ’getting along a bit’!
My grandparents just after their honeymoon
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