Harby in the 1920s

By Eli Coy, edited from a tape recording made  in the 1970s

Eli Coy came from a well established Harby family. He worked in the ironstone mining on the Harby hills and was much involved in archaeological discoveries, especially from the important Roman settlement at Goadby Marwood. 

To look at, Harby hasn't changed all that much during the 50 or so years since the first World War. At any- rate, the Church and the Chapel were there then as they are today, and so was the School which was run by Alfred Edwards. Mrs. Kemp kept the Post Office in those days, and telegrams were sent off in Morse Code. The village had two bakers, two butchers, four shops, the Cheese Dairy and at least three other small cheese-makers. There was a Mill too, owned by Mr. Stubbs of Hose, and run by the miller, Wm. Hall. 

Harby was well-off for coal too, with three Coal Merchants, and it boasted the same number of joiners, all by the name of Musson, curiously enough. Mr. Martin was the name of the wheelwright, and his grandson still lives in the same place, and keeps the wheelwright's shop going. Mr. Stead followed Thos. Hall at the blacksmith's shop, and was there for most of the 50 years. 

The Nag's Head and the White Hart were important land-marks in the village, as they still are today. They were only open six days a week, but I am told that sometimes the men would call at the pub on the way to work, and be there for the rest of the day, because in those good old days they kept open all day long. 

Although we were well-catered for by tradesmen, other conditions were very different from those we know today. There was no electric light, and no piped water, which all came from various pumps and wells in the village, and had to be carried home. In dry weather the supply dried-up, and people would have to fetch water from the canal in 17- gallon churns on wheels. There were no proper baths in those days, and when people needed one, they brought a tin bath indoors, and filled it with water from the copper which they used for boiling the clothes. There were no lavatories either, only earth closets placed as far away from the house as possible. To pay a visit in the night meant a long walk to the bottom of the garden; some things have improved at any rate!

Very few of the roads were tarmac'd, and as most were mud-bound, it was a great problem to stop the mud getting into the houses. Nearly every Saturday, the women would swill the causeway in front of their doors, and wore pattens for the job. These were worn on the feet, and had wooden soles with an iron ring under the feet which lifted the wearer and her skirts a few inches above the mud. I was told a story once of grandparents who walked to Nottingham on pattens, and carried home panchions on their heads, but I don't know if it was true.

Modern transport, of course, was non-existent, it was a case of walking, or of going by pony and trap, or on horse- back. There were a few bicycles, however, but the railway station was one-and-a-half miles from the village. One of the regular walkers to the station was George Moult, the newsagent. Not only did he walk many miles every morning, but he repeated the performance at half-past five with the evening papers. National papers were a rarity in the village, but we had Titbits, Comic Cuts, John Bull, and The News of the World, and at weekends The Christian Herald arrived. On Saturday mornings the Grantham Journal was delivered in the village by Mrs. Jane Brown, who was a real character, and I can see her now with her long dress trailing in the mud, and her Welsh bonnet perched on top of her head. 

People worked very hard in those days, mostly on the farms, the railways, or the ironstone quarry. A waggoner, for example, would get up at five o'clock in the morning, and his first job would be to feed the horses. After that, he would come home for his breakfast if he lived nearby, or otherwise take it with him; then he would go out to the fields ploughing, sometimes with two horses, sometimes with three, depending on the nature of the land. This would go on from seven o'clock in the morning until perhaps two o'clock in the afternoon. Having had a meal, he would go back to the fields to cut chaff, which was done mostly by hand, and was very hard work. At the end of the day he would have the horses to feed again, and would return later still to bed them down. The next day up at five o'clock again! There was a waggoner on most farms. 

The cowman had much the same sort of working day, although he might get up an hour or so later to feed and milk the cows by hand.

Of course, it wasn't all work in Harby fifty years ago. Not for the children, at any rate; they managed to find some fun, especially in winter. I don't know whether I'm imagining it, but the winters then seemed to be far more severe than they do now. The canal seemed to be frozen over from November until March.

There was one occasion when the whole village, including a lot of quite elderly people, turned out to slide and skate on the canal. It was full all day long, and at night too when everyone would have lanterns. Anyway, as I say, on this occasion Mr Edwards, the schoolmaster was there. "Now you boys" he said - and there was one piece of ice which was thin where the weeds had grown - "Now you boys, keep away from this hole whatever you do, or you'll be in the water". No sooner had he given the warning, than there was a loud crack, and the ice swallowed him up. Of course the boys and girls thought it was great fun, but it must have been horribly cold for the old boy.

In summertime, too, the canal had its uses in providing amusement for the village. There were fishing matches, and of course the boats. These were real barges, horse-drawn, with refuse from the towns, which was put on the land for manure. The children were always there on these occasions, because if you looked hard enough, you could be sure to find a penny or a sixpence or two, which in those days put them in the millionaire class. They didn't mind the filth a bit. 

The swing-bridge was a popular spot in summer for swimming - at least for the male sex. The females kept out of the way, because in those days swimming costumes weren't heard of in the village! The men and boys usually wore a good big handkerchief, folded in half, and tied with string. It served, but some didn't even have that to wear, so on a hot summer's day the female population gave the swing-bridge a wide berth.

W had a good cricket team in those days, and matches were played against most of the villages roundabout. You got there by bike or on horseback and on a fine evening there would often be fifty or sixty spectators enjoying the game. Sometimes there was tennis for youngsters on the Rectory Lawn.

People had to make their own recreations, and maybe they enjoyed them all the more for that. 

Another winter event in Harby was the Hunt Meet. The huntsmen drove up in their Rolls Royces and Daimlers which are the vintage cars of today - this was almost the only occasion when you saw a car in the village. 

The horses and their grooms would come to the Abbey station, a train-load of them. Most people who rode had probably 4 or 5, and even sometimes 6, horses, and nearly as many grooms. The men wore the traditional red coats and white buckskin breeches. When travelling they also wore an apron to stop the whitening rubbing off. The ladies wore their riding habits with a long skirt, silk hat, and a veil. They all rode side-saddle in those days. The grooms (they were called the second horsemen) usually wore livery, some in green, some in black, some in dark blue, all with bright buttons and tall silk hats with a cockade. The cockades were different for each owner, as a rule. 

And away they would go, maybe three or four-hundred horses when they went off. It was a, wonderful sight, no doubt about that!