I was born in Calne on June the 7th 1915. My parents were Amelia Louise Cleverley and Ernest Cleverley. To the best of my knowledge, they were no relation to the Cleverleys who lived in Calstone. I had a sister Louisa and a brother William Henry (Bill). When I was very little my brother called me ‘Shook’ and I’ve been known as Shook ever since.
During the First World War, my father stayed in farming and the family moved to Hilmarton where he was a Carter. When I was four years old, the family moved to Calstone and lived in a cottage at the top of Barrow Hill. My father did general farm work for Roland Maundrell including milking for about six years but something in the milk didn’t agree with his hands so, when I was 10, we moved just down the road to live in the cottage near Blackland Farm where father worked for Mr Vines as a Carter. We also lived across the road in Sunny Terrace for a while because we were growing up and the house was bigger. It was quite normal to move around like this. You went where the work was and then you were given a house to live in.
During this time, I went to Calstone School. At first, Mrs Maynard was the Headmistress, then later Mrs Pitt and finally Mrs Edney. There was another teacher there who I think was called Powell. There were two classes – little ones and older ones. Most of the children stayed at Calstone School for the whole of their education but two or three who were clever left at 11 years old to go into the Technical School in Calne. I didn’t like school very much because the other children didn’t treat me nicely but I did like English. I could get my head down and get on with that without anyone bothering me. I remember once some of the children had scarlet fever and they were taken into the isolation hospital in Calne. They travelled in a horse and fly – a sort of covered cab.
There was a Sunday School on Sunday mornings, held at the School. Gough McFaull’s sister was the teacher – she was a lovely lady. In the evening, the family would go to Calstone Church for evensong. When we got home, we would sing hymns round the fire or play Ludo. Sunday was a Day of Rest and you wore your best clothes. There was no gardening, knitting or sewing. You wouldn’t have hung washing out either but, as Monday was washday, that didn’t matter. Tuesdays was ironing day.
The Reverend Danneman was vicar of Calstone and lived in the Rectory. He would visit the School a couple of times a week for prayers. He visited all the houses in the village – always at tea time! There used to be a Rectory tea party every year for all the village children where we had races.
When I was 10 in 1925, my parents took us to the sea for the first time. We walked from Calstone into Calne, then got the train from Calne Station to Weston Super Mare.
I left Calstone School in 1929 when I was 14. At that time, the only work available for girls such as myself was to go into service. That was all you could do. So, for the next 11 years until 1940, I was in service with a Mr and Mrs Parry in Calne. He was an auctioneer in Chippenham. I was the only help they had – I did everything except the cooking. Mrs Parry did that.
In 1936, four years before I left Mr and Mrs Parry, my parents moved back to Calstone to rent the house next to the Reading Room at the top of Sprays Hill. Part of this house was the Village Shop and my parents took that over. They did it to better themselves and my father also ran a smallholding on the land by the Shop. They took over the Shop from Mrs Dew and her son, Hubert. Previous to them, the Shop had been run by the Bowsher family. As far as I know, there was always a Shop there. You could buy everything you needed, including freshly baked bread, up to the start of rationing in World War II. Most of the villagers did their shopping there. If the Shop was closed, the customers came to the back door, especially in the early morning when men stopped off on their way to work. My brother, sister and I were allowed tuppence a week of sweets from the Shop. I wouldn’t have dared take an extra sweet from a jar – mother would have known!
My father worked from his smallholding as a carter and, at one time, had seven horses there. They hauled the stones for the road building in Calstone and surrounding villages. Heaps of large stones would be left by the road and the stonebreaker broke them by hand. Then a roller would be used to make the road.
When I was 25 in 1940, I had to leave working in service because of the War. I wanted to go into the Navy because I always wanted to travel but I didn’t pass the medical. So I joined the Women’s Land Army and went back home to Calstone to live with my parents at the Shop. I worked on many farms – you were always working, there was never any spare time. I found I liked farm work and, as a result, I stayed on the land and with animals for the rest of my life. It was hard work but you didn’t notice it and it was a healthy life. I was only indoors when I had to be. Of course, there wasn’t the machinery about then although I did take my finger off with a wood saw. I could turn my hand to anything in general farm work and there was always work available in the country.
I used to get into Calne on my bike and I also had my own pony and trap. The village was a friendly place and you never needed to lock your door.
The Reading Room, next to the shop, was used nearly every day and my mother kept it clean. There were dances, whist drives, the Women’s Institute and the village band.
In 1972, after my mother died, my brother and I had the opportunity to buy the house from Bowood. The Shop had closed by then and I think Bowood wanted about £1,700 for it. We could have bought it but decided against it because my brother thought I would be on my own too much while he was at work. So we left Calstone to live at Common Farm, Quemerford with Mr and Mrs Mitchell. I was sort of retired but I still did farm work until I came to Compton to retire in 1987. I’m the last of the family now. It’s been a good life, and a healthy and a happy one. I wouldn’t have made any changes. I still go back to Calstone. Going back to Calstone is always ‘going home’.
Emily Maud Cleverley (Shook), 55 Compton Bassett, Calne, Wiltshire,
(and Fred the Cat),
Saturday 28 August 1999
Shook sadly died in 2012