About
Greta Romaine

Greta Romaine,
(or Greta Clark as she then was) was evacuated from Sidcup in Kent to Natland during the war.

She stayed with her
Uncle and Aunt,
Hubert & Olive Williams, in Natland Mill Beck Lane.

At the time, Hubert
was head gardener
for Colonel Crewdson
at Helme Lodge.

Greta Romaine

Greta told her tale
as part of the
WRVS Heritage Plus
project, becoming
involved with
Life In Our Times,
a collection of reminiscences
produced by a group
who met regularly at the
Hastings WRVS Centre
from June to August 2007.

In contrast to
George Wenman's
unhappy wartime
experience in Natland
(see George's Story),
Greta's evacuation
was a happy one.

This is Greta's tale.

• Evacuated To Stay With A Lovely Aunt
• Early Working Days
• Wartime Mum 

The church to which
Greta refers is St Mark's
in Natland.  

She remembers the boys from St Mark's Home coming into the church in their choristers' gowns.

She went to school in Kendal, first to the
Kirkland School and later to the Senior Girls School up House of Correction Hill (Windermere Road).

Her cousin, June Martin, with whom she was evacuated, returned to Sidcup and sadly died at the age of 42.

Greta now lives at
St Leonards on Sea,
near Hastings.  

She speaks fondly of her time in Natland, more of which can be read at
The Happy Evacuee

Greta's Tale

Evacuated To Stay With A Lovely Aunt

In the wartime I have my happiest memories.  Fortunately, I was evacuated to stay with a lovely aunt who was active, rode a bike and made wonderful apple and gooseberry pasties.

My great companion of this era was my cousin, June, who was two years older and came to the same auntie; we became like sisters and were never lonely.

The lane became significant at night time when we had to get up and take a torch to our makeshift toilet behind the grey door several yards away from the cottage.  It was conveniently placed at the farm entrance next to the "midden".  This was the name given to the pile of cows' and animal waste.  I just hope that the squares of newspaper we had to use disintegrated too.

One of the pleasures of this lane was the gurgling stream running beside it, the whole length until it went down a bank into the big wheel of the wood mill below.

No doubt the words "mill" and "beck" came from these two features, plus the name Natland referring to the area next to Kendal.

As children we naturally loved playing in the "beck".  The local farmers were friends to us and never minded us damming up the stream and floating sticks down so that we could run beside them.

As it was a clear stream with a stony bottom we were able to study the wildlife closely. Stick-like creatures, which we were told were caddis fly larvae, were fascinating and hard to find as they were clad with pieces of gravel about an inch long.

Something we caught in those days (which do not seem to be in streams nowadays) were crayfish.  What fun to find them with their massive claws - I didn't seem to have any fear in those days.

Looking over the gate into the lane were two carthorses, Prince and Charlie, who would like to see us when they were not working, pulling the hay carts.

We were literally very close to nature and could touch the cows as they came past our doorstep to go to the farm for milking.  Occasionally my aunt would throw out a red rug onto the doorstep and if the cows came along they would look suspiciously and shy away.  We worried that they might lurch backwards and fall into the beck.

At the end of the lane were the pig sties and we loved to see the amiable creatures who always looked as though they were smiling.  We would stroke them and sometimes go into the sty with them and give them a nice apple.  I can hear the lovely crunching sound to this day.

The lane actually gave us all the recreation we needed out of school hours.  There was hopscotch, whips and tops, skipping, marbles, ball games, bows and arrows and what excitement when the snow arrived.

But that's another story!

Early Working Days

Greta's stay in Natland influenced her future career.  In a separate tale she relates:

My old uncle was a gardener to a big mansion in Kendal in the Lake District where I was evacuated during the war so he influenced me a great deal because I used to spend time with him in the garden of the big house, watching him taking cuttings and helping him pick the fruit in season.

I found that my gardening job stood me in good stead, keeping me extremely fit and healthy giving me a wonderful knowledge of plants and trees.

Wartime Mum
by
Greta Romaine

A cousin and I aged seven and eight
Had our lives changed by the hand of fate,
The War began, we said goodbye -
To Mum's Mum and Dad's, and had a cry,
Then off we went to a brand new life -
Leaving behind the bombs and strife.
An Auntie welcomed us with open arms,
And after that we had no qualms.
We sat down to a lovely spread,
Then off upstairs to a cozy bed.

Life in the country was so much fun,
Our memories are of endless sun.
We rode our bikes and climbed the trees
And knocked down apples where nobody sees.
We dammed the streams and caught crayfish
And made mud pies in the little dish.
We had a sledge and loved the snow,
Were sorry when it had to go.
We picked the bluebells in the spring,
The nettles gave us many a sting.

We went to church along the lane and when
We walked back home again,
For wild flowers we would always look,
And press them in our prayer book.
Our Auntie gave us lovely food,
Her apple pasties especially good!
And every week we wrote back home
To say we're fine and never a moan.
Then came the day we'd waited for -
Our Uncle came home from the War.
He carried back a big carved chest
With souvenirs that he liked best.
For quite some time we all had fun,
But the end - we knew, would have to come.

At last the five year War was won,
And back to our Mums we had to come.
We had to rush to catch the train -
To take us all back home again.
With lots of tears and quick goodbyes,
Sadness reflected in our eyes.
Bewilderment showed on all our faces,
As we struggled along with heavy cases.

The years went by, they had a son,
For all our holidays would come.
We all went back, year after year,
To all the folk that we held dear.
Retirement came, they settled down,
They reaped in life what they had sown.
There was happiness and peace in life,
So many years as man and wife.

Then one day in the early spring,
Her family came and flowers did bring.
She went to the garden before their tea,
To see what greenery she could see.
She rested on her garden seat,
And waited for her Lord to meet.

She left us for another land,
Her bunch of leaves still in her hand.
Those left behind can only sigh,
There was no time to say goodbye.
We'll miss her in the years to come
She was my friend,
And Wartime Mum.

About
Greta Romaine

Greta Romaine

In Greta's Tale,
Greta Romaine
(formerly Clark)
told of being
Evacuated To Stay
With A Lovely Aunt
in Natland.

Early Working Days
tells of how that
experience influenced
her future career.  

There was also a poem dedicated to her
Wartime Mum.

As she promised,
Greta has now
written more about
her time in Natland.

In The Happy Evacuee
she looks back
at Natland,
Natland Mill Beck
and surrounding area
in wartime.

Helm Lodge and
the Crewdsons
Round the Farms

Natland Mill Beck

Canal and River

Going to Church

The Lodge

Up Helm

Steam Outings

Outdoor Activities

 Greta now lives at
St Leonards on Sea,
near Hastings,
but often thinks
of her happy times
in Natland.

Greta adds that
"I do a cheap B&B as I have a self-contained
big loft conversion
in a nice area.
 If any residents of
Natland would like a southern break,
they are weclome!"

You can
contact Greta via

 Wartime Mum
by
Greta Romaine

A cousin and I
aged seven and eight
Had our lives changed
by the hand of fate,
The War began,
we said goodbye-
To Mum's  Mum and Dad's,
and had a cry,
Then off we went
to a brand new life -
Leaving behind
the bombs and strife.
An Auntie welcomed us
with open arms,
And after that
we had no qualms.
We sat down
to a lovely spread,
Then off upstairs
to a cozy bed.

Life in the country
was so much fun,
Our memories are
of endless sun.
We rode our bikes
and climbed the trees
And knocked down apples
where nobody sees.
We dammed the streams
and caught crayfish
And made mud pies
in the little dish.
We had a sledge
and loved the snow,
Were sorry when
it had to go.
We picked the bluebells
in the spring,
The nettles gave us
many a sting.

We went to church
along the lane and when
We walked back
home again,
For wild flowers
we would always look,
And press them
in our prayer book.
Our Auntie gave us
lovely food,
Her apple pasties
especially good!
And every week
we wrote back home
To say we're fine
and never a moan.
Then came the day
we'd waited for -
Our Uncle came home
from the War.
He carried back
a big carved chest
With souvenirs
that he liked best.
For quite some time
we all had fun,
But the end - we knew,
would have to come.

At last the five year
War was won,
And back to our Mums
we had to come.
We had to rush
to catch the train -
To take us all
back home again.
With lots of tears
and quick goodbyes,
Sadness reflected
in our eyes.
Bewilderment showed
on all our faces,
As we struggled along
with heavy cases.

The years went by,
they had a son,
For all our holidays
would come.
We all went back,
year after year,
To all the folk
that we held dear.
Retirement came,
they settled down,
They reaped in life
what they had sown.
There was happiness
and peace in life,
So many years
as man and wife.

Then one day
in the early spring,
Her family came
and flowers did bring.
She went to the garden
before their tea,
To see what greenery
she could see.
She rested on
her garden seat,
And waited for
her Lord to meet.

She left us
for another land,
Her bunch of leaves
still in her hand.
Those left behind
can only sigh,
There was no time
to say goodbye.
We'll miss her
in the years to come
She was my friend,
And Wartime Mum.

The Happy Evacuee

I was eight when evacuated but have vivid memories.  My cousin, June Martin, two years older, came with me and we made our home for five years at Farm Cottage, Natland Mill Beck Lane with Auntie Olive (Williams).  Her husband, Hubert, was out in Aden in the Air Force on the medical side so we didn't know him for years.  

Helme Lodge and the Crewdsons

Mrs Crewdson was active and could always be found pottering in their garden and was especially proud of her rockery with plants from many lands.

Round the Farms

Crewdson's farm was down the bottom of our lane and as children we were always welcome to wander about, watch milking by hand and play in the pig styes.

Auntie had a piece of ground just off the farm to use as a vegetable plot and we must have eaten an enormous amound of food from it.  It had a stone wall all round it and a wicker gate.

The daughter, Elsie, was charming but we only ever saw her in an armchair as her legs were in irons.  We occasionally walked into their living room when there was no one to get our milk in the dairy adjoining.

Mrs Chapman usually had a batch of loaves rising and "proving" in the hearth, later baked in the black range oven.  An oil lamp was their lighting on a massive wooden table and the fire was usually roaring.

Cows coming past Farm Cottage to be milked was a daily occurrence.

Natland Mill Beck

The beck flowed down to the mill, it gurgled over the stony bottom.  The massive stones mext to it up the lane, we were told, were at some time to hold railway lines, there were two bolt holes in each.

We rarely went up the lane without jumping up to the first stones, then hopping over each one towards the Lodge unless unruly elderberry shoots had grown and barred our way.

It could be said that elderberry canes were important to us children as they made fantastic springy bows for our bows and arrows games in the field over the wall opposite Farm Cottage.  We loved a massive oak tree in that field, overhanging the stream below Mr Hillbeck's garden and pigeon sheds.  We sat up this tree for many hours, even read books up there.  Alas, it is no more.

Canal and River

In winter, the canal froze over so we would go to slide on the ice for many an hour.

In summer we would watch the barges sailing along the canal, pulled by big horses and ropes.  They were just visible from Farm Cottage.

We often went adventuring along the River Kent, starting from near Mrs Hutchinson's bungalow at the junction of Natland Road and the slope to the canal bridge.  Over that wall, there was a derelict spot we knew as a tip.

I remember it specially as being curious one snowy day, I looked over the top with my hands in my pockets and slipped, banging my face on the wall and knocked my front tooth out!

We took a path to Watercrook farm and played along the river banks.  We paddled sometimes but were a bit cautious of leeches on the stony bottom.  They were brown on top and light coloured underneath.

They were perfectly camouflaged, even in the clear water.  People frightened us saying once they stuck to you they would never let go!  However, we didn't worry for long and made our way along to Hawes Bridge.  Autie often came as she loved a walk.

Going to Church

Sundays was the usual walk to church, mornings in winter and evening service in summer.

It was a quiet walk, not much traffic and we picked wild flowers in the high banks.  These were lovingly pressed and put into our own prayer books.  I still have mine but the flowers have lost colour over seventy years!

From Farm Cottage we went across what we called the park as it had big trees, then we would come out at Helme Lodge entrance by the canal bridge.

The big beeches alongside the canal were huge, turned beautiful colours and always whispered in the breeze.

We usually got to a certain place in Natland Road when the church bells began to chime.  This told us to get a move on and be in our pew in time.

Canon Miller was in the vestry while Mr Earnshaw played the organ.  The music was beautiful as only an organ can sound and this was almost my favourite part of the service. I felt very touched by the atmosphere and the music seemed to almost transport me to the clouds.

Outside the evening sun in summer would shine in the side church windows and make patterns on the floor.

The sparrow chirped noisily in the ivy round the windows and you could hear the drone of tractors cutting hay or bringing in the corn in the fields, no rest for the farmers in case the weather changed before all was harvested.

It was lovely to listen to these sounds while our minds wandered during Canon Miller's sermons.  As long as we kept quiet, Auntie didn't mind.

I did rather like seeing a lovely little choirboy who was dark and handsome I thought, at the tender age of ten.  He was from the nearby boys home.

The Lodge

Sometimes we would sit in the old yew tree whose branches overhung the wall of The Lodge.  Old Mr Fox lived there who was very old and quiet and used to be the gardener for Helme Lodge before Uncle.

This stone lodge was really for the current gardener to live in but as Mr Fox had lived there a long time Uncle had Farm Cottage and then when old Mr Fox eventually died, Uncle and Auntie moved into their rightful home, together with son David, born after the war, and had many happy years.

Up Helm

On some of our outings during the war, it was tradition to take any visitors we had on a walk or climb up Helm.  It didn't look high but we were puffing by the top.

At the bottom there used to be a damp patch just near the big metal gate and cotton grass grew there, looking quite pretty bobbing in the wind.  Along the top and at the back we looked for sundew plants.  Our school gave us a list each week of plants to fid and this was one of them.  A wonderful way to learn the names of wild flowers.

If we had time, we would walk along the top of Helm to the wishing tree, find our stone to put in the wall and make a wish.  I wonder what all my wishes were at this time and did any come true?!

I remember the shoe menders called Langhorne's near Helmside.  The old fashioned cobbler had a small  hut and it was situated next to the bridge on the far side.  He was an important man as shoes wore out so quickly.  

Steam Outings

We had a few outings on the steam trains with Auntie so we excitedly walked up to Oxenholme station, which smelt of steam and smoke in the subway.  We liked to go to Morecambe and sometimes Windermere but it wasn't that often.

I can remember a lovely family sometimes on the platform, the downline, were there ten children?  I never knew who they were but they were beautifully dressed and mannered.

If we ever had visitors come to stay we would go up to Oxenholme to meet them then walk their luggage back on an old pram we had for that purpose.

Of course, we did have trips back to London wartime but that was a very big event and not often.

Outdoor Activities

Auntie had a favourite walk to Paddy Lane, great views, lovely walk and we picked bluebells but I don't remember where we picked the lane up.  I feel it was near Oxenholme.

We rode bikes a lot but it was usually up Burton Road towards Endmoor and sometimes to Sandside or Ulpha.

We had an aunt and cousin came up to Kirkby Lonsdale wartime, she looked after Mr Easterby at the bank.  When we visited her, we caught a bus from the Murley Moss bus stop where we sat on the stone wall.  We could go through a stile on Burton Road, across two fields by the stream and over the stile into Oxenholme Road.  No supermarket then!

The field next to the stream flooded wintertime and we loved to wade in it, six inches deep in our Wellingtons.

Summertimes were spent mostly outdoors, no television or computers to gaze at, we played outside till called in for bed!

Greta Romaine, August 2010

Natland Village Green

Post Office and General Store

The Church on the Green