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Amy King, 1940, at 16 yrs, two years after leaving Thistleboon.
To my husband, Ray - who came into my life in my "darkest hour" and renewed my love for living. He has given me 50 years of love, companionship, trust, happiness, contentment and respect for my individuality. Without his support and encouragement, this book would never have been written.
And to my daughter, Elaine (Toots) who has been the joy of my life for 48 years through many ups and downs, and brings a smile to my face every time I think of her. Her inspiration, support and expert computer knowledge has helped make this possible.
We climbed up a narrow passageway with half a dozen steps to All Saint's Church. It was the Sunday morning service. We entered the back of the church and I was amazed by its vastness and brightness. A magnificent altar, backed by an enormous stained glass window, filled the front of the church. Its size and beauty took my breath away.
There were three of us, Mum, myself and my Mum's close friend Julia. Julia led the way and unknown to us, took us to the pew that Mum used to sit in as a child. We sat quietly for about 5 minutes when I felt the emotion begin to stir in me.
All Saints' Church, Oystermouth, Mumbles.
The Rood Screen inside All Saints' Church, Oystermouth.
As the procession started down the side aisle, my consciousness shifted and suddenly I was a small 8 year old child, sitting in the same pew and experiencing the awe and majesty of God. I became my mother as I remembered running over the green hills from bay to bay, drinking in the glorious view of the Gower Coast. I saw the sandy coves nestled below. I lay in the heather on a summer's day with a good book, mesmorized by the smell of gorse and the buzz of an occasional bee. I laughed with friends and enjoyed the love and companionship of Daisy and the other girls in the Orphanage. I was happy and content and felt safe in the loving arms of Lady and Thistleboon and the beauty of the Mumbles.
Then, all of a sudden, I understood. I felt the wrench, the sadness and resentment of being taken from this idyllic childhood at an impressionable age. I had been taken from the love and security and beauty of everything I had ever known and delivered into the hands of a father and stepmother who did not know how to express their feelings. It wasn't fair I felt lonely and unhappy.
In an instant everything about my Mum made sense I looked at her, and she too was crying. I felt I was feeling her pain and sadness and my emotions became uncontrollable. We linked arms and cried together for memories that were almost too painful to recapture for they represented another life that was carefree and happy and many many years ago. Now I understand how Mum always feels at home in a crowd and loves everyone. Now I understand why she won't ever go to church because it makes her want to cry. She wanted to put behind her everything that was free and happy because the picture had become too blotted as she grew into adulthood and became conscious of her parents and how little they could love.
The service was symbolic there was a baptism and a new beginning:
"Receive the light of Christ, to show that you have passed from darkness to light"
I was aware throughout the service that this was a new beginning for us my mother and myself. I had come back to her in a different way. I re-experienced her but I was separate from her and in the re-connection there was a bond that was never there before. I gave thanks to God for this wonderful opportunity to experience this with the most special person in my life. It was truly a memorable day The Welsh singing filled the church and I felt the energy and love surge through my body.
Thursday February 10, 1994
I feel that this unique experience celebrated the birth of this book "Lady and Me". It was born on that May Day in the Mumbles in 1993. Since then, it has grown in leaps and bounds. It has been an honour and a privilege for me to be present at its birth.
I leave my Mum to tell her memories, Please enjoy!!
After arriving at a point in my life which enables me to reflect and look back into the past, drawing on many years of memories, I began to contemplate the reasons for much of the behaviour in modern day society, as I now live in a country, USA, where teenage violence is at an unacceptable level.
My concern is with the general attitude of some who seem only too eager to find excuses, and blame the home environment and parents for child abuse, and pay less attention to the development of the individual personality and character. Are children better off living with abusive, uncaring parents or are they better off being loved and cared for in an institution?
It is with these thoughts in mind, and having negotiated 70 years of life's trials successfully and happily, that I realize maybe early life and education in an orphanage does not carry the social stigma generally accepted by the public.
I had spent most of my life keeping silent about my childhood because of this stigma. Encouraged by my daughter who wanted to understand more, saying "Your roots are my roots" and seeing more and more modern day children being raised away from their families, I felt the time had come to tell my story.
These memories are very special to me and some of the happiest in my life. Perhaps this will help dispel the myth that orphanages are miserable, cruel institutions. Perhaps it will also give encouragement to those, who feel sorrow for not living a 'normal' family life.
Amy Winters, 28 June 1994
Thistleboon Orphanage orphans and staff c1910
My very earliest memory of my childhood was when I was 2 years old. I can't remember how I got to Thistleboon Orphanage or who it was that took me there. All I remember was sitting on a table surrounded by the happy, smiling faces of children, all fighting to take my hat and coat off.
As I settled in and the months passed, I would learn that this was the children's playroom and the focal point of the orphanage. In this room we played and ate all our meals. In addition, the older girls had dancing lessons, put on occasional concerts for visitors, and spent many hours reading, writing and doing embroidery. Much of this embroidery would later be sold to help raise money for the home. There were long, wooden tables, scrubbed white and filling the centre of the room. The children's lockers, covering the walls at one end, held our hats and coats and a few treasured belongings. At times the tables would be pushed to one side to give us room to play.
At the tender age of two however, I had no toys or belongings only the clothes I arrived in. Thistleboon was to be my home for the next 13 years, until I left in 1938, and I had no idea what lay in store for me. Already I was responding to the love that was being given to me by these lively children. It didn't take me long to settle down in my new surroundings and understand that their toys were now my toys and we were all one big, happy family. The orphanage was a large, stone, turreted building at the top of Thistleboon Road in Mumbles, near Swansea in South Wales. I can remember sleeping in a small bedroom with three other children when I first went there and then as I grew older, being transferred to a large, dormitory-type bedroom at the back of the house. This I shared with about ten other girls.
There were usually 30 to 40 children living in the house at any one time and they were mostly girls. In the beginning there were 3 or 4 boys and they slept in a 3-sided lean-to beside the playground. My brother, who was a year older than me, was one of these boys but he was later sent away because he was too difficult to handle. He constantly played truant from school and would be brought back to Thistleboon by the police after they found him playing in the coal trucks.
I especially remember the gardens at the house because they were so beautiful. The house was surrounded by a high stone wall with double iron gates in front. In one corner of the wall was a door from which we sold fruits and vegetables to the local people. A path led from the gates to the front door and either side of the path were the flower gardens. They were full of all different kinds of flowers including lupins, wallflowers and hollyhocks. There was also a small piece of garden at the back where the wood shed was. The produce was all grown in the kitchen garden which was across the road from the front gates. Here there was a greenhouse, cold frames, a herb garden and gooseberry and blackcurrant bushes. We grew tomatoes, onion, potatoes, lettuce and many other vegetables.
She always leaned to watch for us
Anxious if we were late
in Winter by the windows,
In Summer by the gate.
And though we mocked her tenderly
who had such foolish care
the long way home would seem more safe
because she waited there
Her thoughts were all so full of us
she never could forget
and so I think that where she is
she must be watching yet
Waiting till we come home to her
Anxious if we are late
Watching from Heaven's window
Leaning from Heavens's gate.
Margaret Widdener
Sister Rose Scott "LADY"
After that first day when I arrived at Thistleboon, I gradually got to know everyone including the most important, a beautiful person dressed in a nun's habit whom we all called Lady. She was to become the only mother I ever knew and I will always remember and love her dearly. She showed her affection for me by giving me a nickname. She always called me 'Fatabus', probably because of my tendancy to be chubby. Lady's real name was Rose Margaret Scott. I knew she was very special right from the start. Each time she came into the playroom to talk to the children, we had to stand in line and courtesy. This happened every morning and evening when she joined us in prayer. Before going to bed, she gave us little lectures encouraging us to always do our best in everything we set out to do. Her words often come to mind "Good, better, best, never take a rest, till the good is better and the better best". Another lesson she taught us, I can hear her now, "Always remember all of you are very special and as good as anyone else but not better and every one of you is capable of doing anything you set your heart to do." Lady was deaf in her right ear and used a trumpet through which we communicated with her. In fact to this day I shout when I talk. We had to be careful what we said at all times though because she was a good lip reader and always knew what we were saying. We used to play cricket in the playground, she would come outside and play with us. Dressed in her habit she would toss the ball so we could hit it. It seemed so much more fun when she was there.
As I grew older, occasionally on a summer's evening, after all the other children had gone to bed, Lady would take me with her to the garden where we would water the cucumbers in the cold frames and pick gooseberries and blackcurrants. As we worked she would talk to me of the values of life to prepare me for when I went out into the world on my own. Unknown to me this day was approaching rapidly. When the fruit was picked, we would weigh it by the cup and bag it I would spend my Saturday mornings treking over the hills to Langland and Caswell to sell the fruit and vegetables and preserves that came from the garden. With a basket over each arm I would spend most of the day selling my wares Heading home around lunch time with almost empty baskets, I would call in the greengrocers in Castelton to see Mr Chambers, the owner. He didn't need any more fruit but I always knew he would give me a bag of apples and a big smile.
This Lady was very protective of us all I remember one day, I was 10 or 11 years old. I loved to help in the kitchen It was so warm and smelled so good in there. particular day, I asked the cook if I could help and she answered by saying, "yes, you can get the children's bread ready for their tea". I was cutting the bread when the knife slipped and I cut an artery in my hand. Everyone in the kitchen panicked. Lady happened to be out that day so the cook wrapped and bathed my hand It was quite a gash. I was very frightened, mainly because I shouldn't have been there in the first place. In bed that night I worried before I went to sleep, wondering if Lady would be cross with me. I needn't have worried. I was awakened from sleep by Lady who had been told by the cook about the accident. She hugged me and re-wrapped the wound and then went on to tell me how proud she was of me for trying to help the cook. Then she proceeded to tell me how to cut bread - not across but down if I was to do it again.
Thistleboon Orphanage, Mumbles, staff and orphans. Photo: Edmond Phillips.
Lady had adopted a girl whose name was Joy Flanagan who we all envied. I remember she had a brother who was in the service. Joy went to boarding school and came home to the orphanage for the school holidays. She was very beautiful with red hair and freckles. I always thought she looked a lot like Katherine Hepburn. She was always given the leading roles in plays and shows and seemed to have more than we did We watched with envy the day she had her first riding lesson she rode by the gate on a beautiful horse. If only we could have had some of the same privileges.
Thistleboon Orphanage, 1877 O/S Map
Daisy was always on the sidelines watching us and cheering us on. I always felt Daisy understood us children more than the other Matrons that followed, simply because she had been one of us and knew what it was like to be raised in an orphanage with no parents. She too was raised in Thistleboon but stayed on to help take care of us. She left to get married and after that we never seemed to have other Matrons who understood us as well. Daisy met Tom Brown when he came to empty the dustbins. He was always really friendly and teased us children. We gradually watched a romance bloom between them, finally ending in their marriage After they were wed, they went to live in Chapel Street where she is still living as of the writing of this book. I often used to call in and see them and was fascinated by an aviary they had that was full of birds Tom used to sit in the aviary for hours talking to them I swore that one day I too would have an aviary.
This was one of many childhood wishes that would come true. Tom also had a monkey that lived outside but had the freedom of the house. The monkey was tame and friendly and I enjoyed playing with it. I remember Tom as being a very kind, gentle man who loved birds and animals. Daisy was extremely talented, playing the piano by ear. On Sunday evenings she would sit at the piano while we all stood around her and sang hymns. Christmas time, she would play carols. She also made all our clothes, even then, as young as I was I thought she was the "cleverest person in the whole wide world." We were so proud of the new clothes she made and we were all dressed alike in our gymslips and blouses. Our summer uniforms were green gymslips with crème blouses and in the winter we wore navy gymslips with white blouses and navy cardigans. We had navy blue velour hats in the winter and panama hats in the summer. I remember one time it took her 3 weeks to make us dresses for a special occasion. It may have been a parade that was to make money for the orphanage. I can see them now they were a beautiful shade of blue with green collars and wide green sashes.
For 3 weeks, she sewed on a sewing machine in our playroom, surrounded by lively children. At the end of that time she had made 32 dresses, so I often asked her if she needed help and she would get me to tack seams before she ran them on the machine. That was how I first learned to sew. After she got married she still continued to keep in contact with the orphanage and helped whenever possible Lady would send me with her to help her sell poppies on Armistice day. I must have been 11 or 12 years old We walked miles, all the way to Caswell I couldn't wait to get back for lunch because she had promised me fish and chips from the shop next door. This was a real treat for me, as we were never served them at Thistleboon. I guess it was because they were bad for our health. Over the years thoughts of her often came to my mind.
Ada was another Matron and I'm not sure if she was raised there or not. She and Daisy were very good friends. I wasn't very old when I watched the romance grow between Ada and Glyn Price. He was so handsome, tall and dark, with a little moustache. He became a regular visitor to the orphanage so it wasn't long before they were married, after which time she moved to Swansea and we didn't see much of her.
A happy group are taken on a ramble from the Orphanage onto Mumbles Hill. Elaine Bladen, on the back left, lived nearby, and often accompanied the group on their walks. She kept a copy of this photo as a keepsake and identified her friend Daisy, on the back right, as being in charge. Amy King, also a friend of Elaine, is the third from the left, back row and in 1995, remembered Daisy as Ada. Perhaps the passing of time made this difference easy to understand.
Mr Morgan was the gardener at Thistleboon and touched my life in many ways. He lived with his wife in Village Lane and was a kind gentleman, with a big white moustache. I loved to get out in the garden where he was working and he would tell me the botanical names of all the flowers and vegetables. I left school when I was 14 and at which time I was to be trained to go into service. One of my chores was to light the fire in the big room, before the children came down for breakfast on the winter mornings. I could never get the fire started first time, as the wood was always wet and I had to chop it myself. I was doing this in the shed one afternoon, in preparation for the next morning, when Mr Morgan came in. Taking the axe out of my hand, he finished the job for me. This particular day I was feeling sorry for myself and telling him of my problems getting the fire to catch. Not only did he cut enough for the next day, but he chopped enough for a week, storing it in box to keep dry. After that day, he always chopped and dried the wood for me and I never again had problems lighting the fires. Our gardens were always immaculate, beautiful flower gardens in the front of the house and a vegetable garden across the street behind a big wall. Another chore of mine was to take Mr Morgan his daily lunch. I took him homemade bread and cheese and hot tea to the greenhouse every day, where I sat with him as he ate. He used to tell me of his plans for the garden and the needs of all the fruits and flowers. It brings to mind the words of Patience Strong which he used to quote to me
"The kiss of the sun for pardon The song of the birds for mirth One is nearer God's heart in a garden Than anywhere else on earth."
He helped me with a school project, where I had to plant a potato. He dug the hole for me and marked it and he told me when to water it. I won the prize for growing the most potatoes. I couldn't wait to get home and find him in the garden to tell him of our success, for it was his project as well as mine.
I remember when he was very sick and not expected to live I went with Lady to his house. She told me to wait outside, while she went in to pray at his bedside. I was very sad. As young as I was, I knew dear Mr Morgan was going to die. I missed him terribly after that.
Miss Barrow was another and a dear soul. We used to laugh at the way she walked, with her head held high and always humming a tune. She was a 'well endowed' lady, fortyish and wore a white nurses apron One of her great passions was chocolate. She would always wait until the rest of the staff was in the dining room, eating tea and then ask me to run to the shop to get her some chocolate. She would secretly tell me to go to her room at bedtime, where I was amply rewarded with biscuits from her dresser drawer. This was a thrill for me, except I never got chocolate and the biscuits tasted of mothballs!! I could never tell her this. This secret mission lasted for many months and nobody ever found out. She really was a sweetheart
Miss Barrow also gave us swimming lessons. These were never successful with me, for it was something I never learned to do. I've always been scared of water, even walking along the pier was frightening to me, as I saw the water below me, through the spaces in the planks. This fear has remained with me for my whole life.
Another member of the staff was Miss Mossop, affectionately known as "Pocky" by Lady. They were good friends and Pocky stayed in the staff quarters most of the time. Once a week, on our sewing day, she would read to us while we patched the sheets. These stories would be such as "Ann of Green Gables", "Little Women" and "Hidden Garden". She put so much expression into it, she had us sniffling at the sad parts. This made the sewing easier for all of us. I decided of all the chores that I was learning, cooking, entertaining and setting tables were my favorites. To this day, my favourite pastime is to give dinner parties for close friends
One of my favourite pastimes in the summer, was to go on the cliffs with the rest of the children. We were allowed to pick whatever book we wanted from the library and I always chose "Little Women". We would all make for the cliffs and lie in the grass, with the smell of gorse and heather close at hand. It was so peaceful and a perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
On a Saturday afternoon we would go to the cinema, but not before Lady had sent me down to the home of the projectionist, to find out the name of the film that was showing and if it was suitable for children. I remember seeing many Shirley Temple movies or Our Gang movies. Brynley Simmons was the projectionist. He had chestnut hair and freckles and always had a big smile. In fact he was the first boy I ever had a crush on and I will never forget passing him one day on the way to town. All of us orphanage children were walking in pairs as usual and I watched him walking towards us. As he passed by he gave me a huge wink. I was so embarrassed, I didn't know where to put myself. My face must have been as red as a beetroot!!
In the summer time there were boat rides from the Mumbles pier. Another memory was when we children were invited on one of these rides around the bay. Everyone was very excited except me, as I was terrified of the thought of bouncing about on the waves. I went anyway and never did let on that I was frightened. The trip seemed to go on forever and I was really relieved to get my feet on dry land again. I couldn't understand why all the other children were whooping with joy when I was so miserable. However, I soon forgot the ordeal and was back to my normal, happy self
I used to be very fascinated by the Lifeboat. Sometimes on our Sunday walks we stopped by the Pier to look around the Lifeboat House. It was always such a thrill for me to see all the shiny brass and the tip-top condition of the boat. We were told stories of how the men would go out to sea to help ships in trouble without a thought of risking their own lives to save others. Over the years, I have often thought of the brave men lost at sea I believe my feelings were even stronger because of my fear of water. Every time I heard the fog horn I would wonder about the passing ships and their safety.
Often on a Saturday morning, two sisters used to come and take us on outings to the beach. Margaret and Dot Watkins lived in Caswell with their parents. I don't think they were many years older than us. We would form our usual column of 2's and walk to Langland Bay. As we walked, we picked wild flowers from the hedgerows and I remember one time winning the prize for picking the biggest selection.
Sundays for us were days of prayer. We went to the morning service at Oystermouth Parish Church (now All Saints' Church) and after a good Sunday dinner, went back for Sunday School. Sometimes, if the weather was nice, we went for walks around the cemetery or around the cutting to Limeslade and back. I particularly enjoyed this walk because there was an ice cream shop there and the owner used to call out to us and give us all a cornet. What a treat that was!
Limeslade Bay, pre 1939. Photo: Jean Morris.
I was confirmed at this church when I was about 13 years old. The curate was Illtyd Jenkins and he used to teach our confirmation classes. I think there were about four of us who used to go on a Wednesday evening and I remember two of the girls, Lucy was one of them. Mr Jenkins nicknamed her "Lucifer' because she was very mischievous and full of fun. Bertha Popham came with us also. She was a big, good looking blond girl and was quite sweet on one of the farm boys from next door to the orphanage. I think his name was Gerald. When we came out of church one Wednesday, he was waiting for her to take her home. The rest of us girls had to wait for her while he kissed her goodnight in the hedge! We couldn't possibly go in without her because we would have been in too much trouble.
We were always involved in many types of fundraising to help raise money to pay for our keep. Most of the girls came from broken homes, so they were not truly 'orphans". While their parents were expected to pay what they could afford towards their room and board, this was never enough and was supplemented in many different ways. Our garden produce was a major source of funds. As mentioned before, we would sell this either from the garden gate or by my weekly treks across the cliffs to regular customers in Langland. I would never go home until my baskets were empty and my pockets full of money for my wares, for I knew that this was what Lady expected me to do. A few customers would give me pennies as tips which I was allowed to keep for myself. On the way to the cinema on Saturdays, I would go into Fulfords and buy coconut chips and I would share these with the other children. We would get lots for our money, so it was something to nibble on while watching the film, it was a treat for us all.
An advert for Fulford's Stores.
I remember the orphanage putting on shows to raise money and the local people would be invited. In one particular show, when I was about 3 or 4, I was to be a violet. Daisy made my outfit, which was a purple gauze dress, lined with satin and purple petals surrounding my face.
0ressed so fittingly, I stood alone on stage and sang my song to the audience, doing the actions as I went:
"The wren and robin hop around
The primrose make my neighbours be
The sun has warmed the mossy ground
When spring has come, I too am found.
The fairy’s call has wakened me"
As I finished my song, with my ear cupped to hear the fairies call, the room erupted in cheers and applause. It was so much fun. My extraverted nature had just been discovered! As I got older (10 or 11), I was chosen to play St David, the patron saint of Wales, in the school play. I don't know to this day why I was chosen, instead of a boy. I think I have always been a bit of a ham.
I remember when the townspeople went all out to help us raise money. One year there was a parade of floats through the town, with prizes for the one that had been decorated the best. The orphanage float won first prize! We finished up at the castle grounds, where we put on a show of the 'Pied Piper of Hamelin'. The children were the rats and Daisy made all the costumes. It was a lot of fun and we all went home tired and happy.
Oystermouth Church of England School Concert, c.1933.
Left to Right - Jean Dartnell, Joyce Maslin, Florrie ?, Lettie Thomas, Doreen Hoskins, Elaine Bladen, Nora Haybridge (rear), Poppy Gammon, Dilly Wilkins, Daphne McNamara, Rosina Clifford (rear) Joan.
For many years one of the notable institutions in Mumbles was the Diocesan Orphanage at Thistleboon, the work undertaken frequently moving local residents to action to help improve the unfortunate lot of those young children who were domiciled within the building. During 1933 the orphanage experienced financial difficulties to such an extent that eventually a committee of prominent Mumbles personalities met to discuss ways and means of raising a substantial sum of money to help overcome the dilemma, the result of their numerous deliberations and spate of energetic work being displayed during the latter part of August and early September when a Three-Day programme of 'Village Revelries' was launched.
An Oyster Shell Grotto. A drawing by Edna Davies.
Proceedings opened on the Thursday afternoon when a Grotto Building competition for children of all ages took place on the concrete promenade at Southend. The weather conditions for this event, and indeed for the following two days, proved excellent, consequently all the events attracted a good following. The winner for the building competition, under 12, was W. Bowden, the winner of class B, for 12-15 year olds, being S. Smith.
This was followed by a battle of flowers and confetti, while a Pennies parade eventually resulted in several hundred yards of pennies being obtained. During the following two days the activities featured a Balloon Release competition, a Baby Show, and at the Church Hall the holding of Flitch Trials. The proceedings ended with a 'Village Fair' staged in the Oystermouth Castle Grounds, which in addition to numerous side shows also included a performance of the Pied Piper of Hamelin by local children, Maypole dancing, a comic Rugby Football match with the players tied in sacks, a 3 legged Football match, an Ankle competition for men, and in the evening dancing by searchlight. In attendance was the Penclawdd Silver Band and also the Costers Jazz Band combination. The event attracted a very large attendance and a large number of local residents entered into the spirit of the occasion by dressing in quaint, country style costume.
It was a real fun gala for Mumbles and appealed to the spending public immensely with a substantial sum obtained for the Orphanage funds, proof indeed of the general popularity of the venture
ARTICLE IN MUMBLES NEWS
probably quoted from Mumbles Press 1933
When I first arrived at the orphanage, nobody knew when my birthday was, so it was celebrated every year on the day I entered the orphanage. This was March 3rd, 1925. Imagine the surprise when, many years later, at age 16, I was to discover that my real birthday was December 19th!
Mrs. Watkins who was the mother of Margaret and Dot was a special person to me and made one birthday memorable. I loved her, for she seemed to take me under her wing. I remember one year on my birthday, Lady told me to wear my Sunday clothes to school, but she wouldn't tell me why it was to be a surprise. All day long at school, I could concentrate on nothing but what the surprise might be. I waited and waited and nothing happened until it was time to go home. When I went out into the playground, Mrs. Watkins was standing at the gate, waiting to take me home with her for a special birthday tea. She had a birthday cake with candles, which I had never had before. It was the most wonderful birthday I had ever had. I played with their dog a big black Labrador. For some reason I remember the dog's room, it was a big room, with heated pipes around the walls, a dog bed and toys to play with. I remember thinking how lucky the dog was, for I didn't know what it was to have a room to myself. I played games with Mr. and Mrs. Watkins, before going back to Thistleboon.
This was yet another family that touched my life and added to my feelings of being made to feel special. I often wonder what my life would have been like had I been raised by my parents. All I know is, I couldn't possibly have been happier than I was at Thistleboon, where I was loved and nurtured and protected by the only family I had ever known.
Lady made birthdays at Thistleboon a special time also. She remembered every birthday and not one went by uncelebrated. She would come into the big room in the morning, pat us on the head and wish us a happy birthday The big treat was being taken into the staff dining room where we could pick a pot of jam from her shelves. This was homemade from Mr. Morgan's garden fruit. I always picked marmalade, so I had my very own pot for breakfast every morning, until I had eaten it. Today, every time I eat marmalade, my mind returns to my childhood birthdays.
Thistleboon Orphanage Farm
With Christmas approaching, Thistleboon was caught up in an atmosphere of happiness and excitement. About 3 weeks before Christmas, the cook would make the plum puddings. A threepenny piece, a shilling, a button and a ring went into the mixture. The story went that if, on Christmas Day, you had the money in your portion, you would be rich, if you found the button, you would be an old maid, and the ring meant that you would be married. We all wanted to find the money!! We were more interested in finding one of these treasures than eating our pudding. When the mixture was all ready, Lady used to come and tell us all to line up, to come to the kitchen to stir the batter. We were told not to forget to wish and we each had 3 stirs and 3 wishes. Every year, my 3 wishes were all the same, that my father would visit me, he never did. He did however, send presents and pocket money, with which to do my Christmas shopping This was one of the highlights of Christmas. We usually went to Swansea and loved to go to Marks & Spencers and Woolworths. Here we bought small gifts for each other, which usually consisted of bath cubes, writing paper and beads for our friends.
Christmas lasted about 3 weeks for us, starting with the stirring of the batter and ending on boxing day when we had to sit and write our Christmas thankyou letters. There was so had so much going on during this time. Every year we went to the pantomime in Swansea, were given a box of Cadbury's chocolates to take with us and we always sat down in the front row. We were all so excited and talked about it for days afterwards, imitating the actors and re-playing parts of the show. At some time we usually went to a Christmas Party, given by the TocH [an abbreviation for Talbot House, an international Christian movement >].
The Royal British Legion Hut, was used by TocH, an International Great War Christian Charity.
The Horses Head, 'The Mari Lwyd' custom, touring Mumbles, collecting for charity.
This was given at The Royal British Legion Hall, at Oystermouth Station and we had food and games and lots of fun. Christmas Eve we were visited by Carol Singers and the Horses Head. Before we went to bed we hung up our stockings and pillowslips at the end of the bed. I always believed in Father Christmas. The older girls would tell the small children to put a note in the chimney for him. There was a fireplace at the side of my bed which was boarded up and I had to put my letter in there. All night I hardly slept, thinking I would catch a glimpse of Father Christmas and I know now that it was the big girls who answered my letters. I always got the small things I asked for, bought by their pocket money or handmade by some of the more talented girls. We couldn't wait to get to sleep so that Christmas morning would come quickly. Christmas day arrived and we were all up early. As a yearly treat, we were allowed to slide down the stairs on our pillows. The stairs were covered with linoleum, which was an ideal surface for our pranks. Halfway down, on the first landing, we knocked on the Matrons doors and sang Carols, for which they would give us pennies. The large playroom was always decorated with ivy, that Mr Morgan had taken from the front wall outside. The tables were covered with fruits and sweets, that were donated by local shopkeepers and there was a truly festive atmosphere everywhere. After breakfast we went to church, where the service was extra special because of the carols and the merriment of the day. Christmas dinner consisted of turkey and all the trimmings which we ate around midday. After a late tea, where we ate Jelly and Christmas cake, we all paraded into the staff dining room, where stood a huge Christmas tree decorated with lights and lots of gifts. Some of them were sent by family members. I remember being 'adopted' by the local Girl Guides, who had sent me a tea chest full of toys they had collected for me. I had so much fun sharing them with the rest of the children. We finished the day singing carols with Daisy at the piano. After Christmas we had to sit down and write our thankyou notes and Lady would supply the writing paper and stamps.
We played many childhood games that children play today, but I wanted to mention three games that I loved to play.
One Christmas, among all the toys given to us by the Girl Guides was a hoop, made of iron, with a handle attached which moved all around the ring. It was quite difficult for little girls to manoeuvre. I took it to school one day to find out how it worked, but the handle kept sliding all around the hoop which made the hoop fall over. I was really getting frustrated when it came to me that I had to keep the handle at the bottom to balance the hoop. After the mystery was solved, I ran with my new toy all the way to school and couldn't wait for home time so I could try it again. This turned out to be one of my favourite toys.
Another sport we learned was Shinty, I think it was an Irish game and very similar to hockey but the sticks were different, like a Shillallee. Miss Enid Morgan was our games teacher and we would all go to the park to play I can [Shillelagh] or still hear her blowing her whistle and at the top of her voice shouting, "Where are my wings, where are my wings?" I think I must have been one of her wings and was never where I should have been. We would all laugh and say "The only way she will get her wings is when she goes to heaven'. She was a very nice person and I will never know how she kept her patience with us. She tried unsuccessfully to make us all good at sports. Marbles was a favourite pastime of mine. Many a time I was late home from school, because I was playing marbles with the boys. I would challenge any boy with a bag full of allies' These were the big, coloured marbles and they could be won with three strikes. I would be so excited if I won any, because they were such a prize. I had a little cloth bag with string tied around the top and I would carry it everywhere with me.
My thoughts go back to my school days at Dunns Lane Church School, which we walked to every day. I was there from the age of 5, until I left at 14. When I think of these years, one special teacher comes to mind. Miss. Woolacott was my favourite teacher, in spite of the fact that she gave me the ruler a few times and occasionally kept me after school. I didn't mind the lines and enjoyed being with her, so staying after school was no punishment. I most probably deserved what she gave me, so I never held it against her. My memories of her are very vivid, I remember she had beautiful golden hair and she used to wear braids that were brought up around her head. I was intrigued by this and often wondered if it was a wig. She always looked smart and wore fashionable clothes that I vowed I would copy when I was older. She often used to visit her family at the farm next door. I remember on a Sunday, many of us hanging out of our bedroom window and waving to her as she left the farmhouse and walked by the gate. We loved the farmhouse because of the chickens and the animals. One of the dormitories had a window overlooking the farm yard where we used to watch the farmers shearing the sheep on a summer night. I will never forget that one summer she went to Whitby in Yorkshire for her holidays and brought me back a cross made of jet, which I think was mined in that area.
Nature Study was my favorite subject in school. I loved it when we went out on the beach for nature study walks. One of my favorite pastimes was to study the creatures on the beach. I spent wonderful times, climbing the rocks and discovering limpid pools full of interesting insects and fish. I was fascinated by the crabs and barnacles and stuffed my pockets full of sea shells, which I read about when I got back to school. My favourite shells were the cowry shells, favourite because they were so rare. They were the most difficult to find because they were so small only the size of my finger nail. They were like gold and it was a rare, exciting gift when one was discovered.
On the way home from school I passed a bakery. You couldn't miss it, the smell of newly baked bread was too much for a young child. I couldn't walk by without going in, it was so warm and inviting. On one occasion, the baker was making Swiss rolls and cutting the ends off after rolling them up. He told me to help myself to the pieces and I left the shop with a full tummy that day!! Cake was a luxury to us and we only had it for Sunday tea. If any of us was naughty during the week, our punishment would be to go without our Sunday cake. For me this was a great deterrent, so I mostly was a good girl and did as I was told. As we got older, we went to the Newton Road school for cookery lessons. I especially enjoyed this as Miss Trick, the teacher, would allow us to take home what we had baked. Sometimes this was rock cakes, queen cakes and an occasional fruit cake. We were all expected to take our own ingredients, but because I was from the orphanage, Miss Trick would give me money to go to the local shop to buy mine. I was always good at cookery and the other children at the orphanage would look forward to sharing the baked treats at tea time, when I got home from school.
The older girls at Thistleboon had dancing lessons. We were taught by Miss Skidmoor who used to come to Thistleboon. I used to look at her and think how beautiful she was and how graceful. She would make us walk around the room with books on our head, which was aimed at making us upright. I enjoyed dancing but was never very graceful, being too short and chubby.
A Mumbles Church School class C1930
back row L-R: ? Sanders, ? Stevenson, ??, ??, Gerald Balsden, Graham Supple, ??
middle row L-R: Geoffrey Chanter, Kenny Bale, ??, ??, Barbara Johnson, Rosamond Slee, ??, ??
front row L-R: Elaine Gammon, ??, Amy King, Joyce Maslen, Marguerite Jones, Avril Holman, ??,
Georgina Jones, Enid Bevan
Most of my friends in school came from the town and I actually named my daughter after two of them. Elaine Gammon and Elaine Bladen were two of my best friends. We had many laughs together and would spend many happy hours in the playground as well as sitting next to each other in class. Elaine Gammon would bring me a bag of winkles and we would sit on the wall in the playground eating them. She never forgot to bring the pins with her. I found out later that she had died in her thirties and I never saw her after I left school at 14.
Irene Evans grandfather owned a butcher's shop close to the school. When I was learning to knit, he provided me with wooden meat skewers that made perfect knitting needles. I was to pass this talent on to Elaine Bladen, who I taught to knit at age 6!! Other names from school that come to mind are Audrey McNamara and her sister Daphne and Joyce Maslen, also Irene Evans and Avril Holman. I remember Joyce being the 'brainy' one in the class, she could even kick higher than everybody else! This was awesome to me because I had such short legs. I was on the rounders team with Elaine and she loaned me a pair of shorts one day when we had to play in Swansea. The game however was cancelled as it began to rain when we boarded the train. Audrey and Daphne's parents owned the grocery store near Village Lane.
Mumbles Church School ,
Another girl I remember in the orphanage was Vera John. She was a very pretty girl with a pale face, jet black hair and a husky voice. She was always happy and very popular, especially when she would bring cakes home from the bakery and share them around. We asked her where she got them and she told us the lady in the shop sold stale cakes for a penny. We believed her until one day we were all lined up in front of the bakery for an identification parade. Vera was identified as the culprit who obtained the cakes by charging them to the orphanage! It was not long after that that Vera was escorted from the orphanage by the police, never to be seen again. I often wonder where the poor girl went, home to her parents I think. We all felt a little guilty as we helped her eat the cakes. Not all my schooldays contained happy memories, I have some sad memories too. Mrs Armour was one of my customers who I sold produce to on Saturdays and I went to school with her daughter Margaret. One particular Saturday, when I called on Mrs Armour as usual, she came to the door in tears telling me that her daughter Margaret had died. I was shocked, I didn't know she had been sick and she was only my age. Some time after this, Mrs Armour told me she wanted to adopt me. She even went as far as asking Lady. I always knew that it was not possible because I already had parents, even if I didn't know who they were. Until the day I left Thistleboon I used to visit Mrs Armour on a Saturday morning and she would be waiting for me at the door.
We regularly had visiting day when parents would come to the orphanage and take their children out for the day. This was usually on a Saturday. I would go to bed on Friday night and pray to God that my father would come the next day to take me out. The next day arrived and we were all dressed in our Sunday best, as we waited for our visitors. I was always full of hope and expectations, longing for someone to visit, but deep down knew no-one would come.
I knew I had a father, but didn't know what he looked like, I had never seen him and never even heard from him until I was older, when I did get the occasional letter. I dreamed of him coming anyway.
I knew nothing of my mother and it was this way until I was well into my twenties. In the middle of all the activity, Lady would come and ask me to help her with a something she had to do, saying that it was a busy day for her. She would take me with her to run an errand or do a chore, all the time telling me what she little knew about my parents and stressing that because I had no visitors did not mean that I was not loved.
I have realized since growing up that she had her reasons for doing this, to keep my mind occupied so I wouldn't be too disappointed when yet again no-one came to see me. I was happy for the girls who did have visitors, they were so excited and after they returned, were full of their days activities. However, this was not my happiest time and I was glad when the day was finally over.
I left school at 14 years old and almost immediately started my training to go into service. Looking the part of a maid in my white apron, black dress and little white cap, I helped in the kitchen, did housework, and set tables for the staff. I loved doing everything except house cleaning. One of my chores was to scrub the back yard steps which wasn't much fun on a cold winter morning at 6.30. Another of my chores was to go to the coal cellar and fill all the scuttles with coal from the dining room. This also was at 6.30 in the morning
Yet another task was to answer the front door bell. One day I answered it to find the postman standing there. He wished me a good day and handed me the letters. On looking through them I noticed a familiar handwriting addressed to Lady, it was my father's. I tucked the letter between the rest and took them all to her. For days after that I was curious as to why he had written.
I was soon to find out. Strange things started to happen. Lady bought me a new outfit and shoes, so very different from what I was used to wearing Of course I was thrilled with my new clothes, but wondered why I was getting them. I was told to wear them a couple of days later and informed that I would be leaving that day to live with my father. One of the neighbour ladies came to fetch me to take me to the bus station. I think her name was Mrs McKay.
At the gate of the Orphanage
As I crossed the playground, walking to the back gate, I didn't realize that this would be the last time I would ever see Lady and the children. I turned round to look up at my home and saw all the children waving goodbye with their little faces pressed against the window.
Not only did I feel sad about leaving them, but where was Lady who hadn't even said goodbye to me? I searched the faces at the window and caught a glimpse of her standing in the background watching me. I realized then that maybe this was the best way to part. After all it would have been even worse saying our farewells. For me, it was parting from the only mother I had ever known, for Lady, she was losing the little girl she had raised from a baby.
Not knowing what the future held, I tried looking on the bright side, for I was meeting my father for the very first time. So, it was with mixed emotions I left the old life behind and set off to start a new one. What lay in store for me would have to be another story and another book. I boarded the bus with great expectations but would never forget Lady and my wonderful childhood years.
The Winters Family, Amy, her daughter Elaine and Ray, during their 50th Wedding Anniversary.
Amy King, 1940, at 16 yrs, two years after leaving Thistleboon.
The following is a copy of Lady's farewell letter, which was printed upon her retirement in the Oystermouth Church Parish Magazine in 1939.
A message from Miss Scott
The Vicar has kindly allowed me to write a few lines of farewell in the Magazine. For the forty years our Orphanage has been in the Mumbles, we have met with the greatest kindness and help from everyone in the Parish. People of all denominations have been generous and faithful friends, always ready to help my dear little children and myself. Now that I have given up my work, I must tell you that it has always been my greatest happiness to mother these beloved children, so much in need of care; and they and I will love one another for ever.
Goodbye my friends. Do not forget me, as I shall never forget you. With all my heart I thank each and every one for your constant kindness to myself, Miss Mossop, and all my dear Orphans.
R.M. SCOTT (Thistleboon)
Taken from Oystermouth Church Parish Magazine 1939
In keeping with Miss Scott's wishes, I am dedicating this book to all children throughout the world who suffer the tragedy of separation from their natural parents
The answer to our problems is not whether or not there should be orphanages. It is not that simple. Each of us needs to start caring, not only for our own children, but our neghbour's children, the children of the world, the children of the Universe. We can no longer close our eyes to neglect and abuse, to bad parenting and abhorrent living conditions We must each do our part to help these innocent children.
Amy Winters and Elaine, at Limeslade Bay, Mumbles.
Amy always remembered Lady and her wish
"not to forget the children"
I wish to acknowledge and thank the following people for their assistance in preparing this story.
Liz and Ray Morgan, who provided our accommodation, sustenance and encouragement, not to mention the liaison work involved during my return to the U.S.A.
Richard Pring, who spared no effort which allowed us to meet people with knowledge of the orphanage.
The Oystermouth Historical Association, represented by Wendy Cope and John Powell, for research assistance.
Local people of Swansea and Mumbles who provided photographs, related documents and information gained through family discussions.
Jackie and Stephanie Brown, for the benefit of their journalistic background.
Julia Miller, for her sharing and support and many many hours listening to my story.
Last but not least my immediate family, Ray and Elaine, who have been urging me to place in print my childhood memories.
Published as ‘Lady and Me’ in 1995
Amy then lived with her husband, Ray, in Memphis, Tennessee, USA