to adapt more readily to the sudden changes in our life, but in the early days we cried a lot when she was obliged to leave us.
Sutherland Lodge with its impressive double-gabled, ivy-clad frontage stood on rising ground and had magnificent views to the south. It overlooked dense green forests, rolling countryside and the green fields round Cropton way. The eaves of the house had intricately carved bargeboards with a series of alternating diamond and bow shapes cut into them along their whole length. Delicately carved wooden finials crowned the apexes of the gable ends with, below them, a matching inverted finial. High up on the gable at the western end there was the gauntleted forearm of a knight grasping a short dagger on a stone shield, with the word PERSE engraved below it. It was probably the crest and motto of a noble family, with the word meaning âperseveranceâ. We would need a good deal of that in the times to come.
Three stone steps led up to a pair of studded oak doors which were flanked by stone buttresses. Above them an elegantly carved Gothic arch framed a stained-glass window with a leafy stemmed rose (the flower of secrets) in the centre of it. A pair of finely carved, winged gargoyles â which always frightened me â jutted out on either side of it. At one side was an old-fashioned, brass bell pull and directly above the doorway there was a stone-mullioned, three-sided oriel window.
A wide gravelled drive ran along the front of the house and we were told that the upper west wing was for the exclusive use of the resident Stancliffe family. From the drive, a wide flight of steps flanked by low stone walls led down to a rustic fence that surrounded an open paddock; a couple of horses were contentedly grazing on the meadow grass that was still lush and green.
Part of the house had been requisitioned on behalf of Middlesbrough Borough Council to be used as a nursery school for evacuee children below school age. It was about a mile and a half north-east of Cropton as the crow flies, but it was three miles or so by road and forestry track. It stood in a small clearing at the southern edge of the vast Cropton Forest where English kings had once hunted deer and wild boar.
Much of the land had been in the care of the Forestry Commission since 1930 and they had provided sorely needed work for the locals and those who came here from farther afield. A huge area of land had been planted with conifers, although many of the indigenous trees remained and rhododendron shrubs grew in profusion along the edges of the forest tracks. Our new home (built in 1870) had originally been a shooting lodge belonging to a Lieutenant-Colonel Daniel Thompson, a retired veteran of the Crimean War.
The fine three-storey stone building, with its eleven bedrooms, had later been the property of the Ringer family who were much involved with fox hunting and grouse shooting. They had made good use of the long range of stables and kennels that stood to the east of the house but most were now unused. A couple of the stables housed the horses of the present owners, Captain and Mrs J. Stancliffe, who had bought the house between the wars. They were deeply involved in local church and village affairs, although Captain Stancliffe, like so many others, was away serving with the army.
Mrs Stancliffe, a refined and attractive middle-aged lady with dark curly hair, was always kind, gentle and ladylike in her dealings with the nursery. We thought her very posh as her daughters Susan, aged seventeen, and Rosemary, aged fifteen, were away at a private boarding school. Her mother was a leading light in the local Red Cross and Womenâs Institute and they owned several farms and a good deal of the land in the area.
Mrs Stancliffe employed a young German Jew as her housekeeper and her living quarters were in the topmost room of the ivy-covered tower. To me it seemed like a scene from a fairytale. Apparently she had recently been reported
Sutherland Lodge with its impressive double-gabled, ivy-clad frontage stood on rising ground and had magnificent views to the south. It overlooked dense green forests, rolling countryside and the green fields round Cropton way. The eaves of the house had intricately carved bargeboards with a series of alternating diamond and bow shapes cut into them along their whole length. Delicately carved wooden finials crowned the apexes of the gable ends with, below them, a matching inverted finial. High up on the gable at the western end there was the gauntleted forearm of a knight grasping a short dagger on a stone shield, with the word PERSE engraved below it. It was probably the crest and motto of a noble family, with the word meaning âperseveranceâ. We would need a good deal of that in the times to come.
Three stone steps led up to a pair of studded oak doors which were flanked by stone buttresses. Above them an elegantly carved Gothic arch framed a stained-glass window with a leafy stemmed rose (the flower of secrets) in the centre of it. A pair of finely carved, winged gargoyles â which always frightened me â jutted out on either side of it. At one side was an old-fashioned, brass bell pull and directly above the doorway there was a stone-mullioned, three-sided oriel window.
A wide gravelled drive ran along the front of the house and we were told that the upper west wing was for the exclusive use of the resident Stancliffe family. From the drive, a wide flight of steps flanked by low stone walls led down to a rustic fence that surrounded an open paddock; a couple of horses were contentedly grazing on the meadow grass that was still lush and green.
Part of the house had been requisitioned on behalf of Middlesbrough Borough Council to be used as a nursery school for evacuee children below school age. It was about a mile and a half north-east of Cropton as the crow flies, but it was three miles or so by road and forestry track. It stood in a small clearing at the southern edge of the vast Cropton Forest where English kings had once hunted deer and wild boar.
Much of the land had been in the care of the Forestry Commission since 1930 and they had provided sorely needed work for the locals and those who came here from farther afield. A huge area of land had been planted with conifers, although many of the indigenous trees remained and rhododendron shrubs grew in profusion along the edges of the forest tracks. Our new home (built in 1870) had originally been a shooting lodge belonging to a Lieutenant-Colonel Daniel Thompson, a retired veteran of the Crimean War.
The fine three-storey stone building, with its eleven bedrooms, had later been the property of the Ringer family who were much involved with fox hunting and grouse shooting. They had made good use of the long range of stables and kennels that stood to the east of the house but most were now unused. A couple of the stables housed the horses of the present owners, Captain and Mrs J. Stancliffe, who had bought the house between the wars. They were deeply involved in local church and village affairs, although Captain Stancliffe, like so many others, was away serving with the army.
Mrs Stancliffe, a refined and attractive middle-aged lady with dark curly hair, was always kind, gentle and ladylike in her dealings with the nursery. We thought her very posh as her daughters Susan, aged seventeen, and Rosemary, aged fifteen, were away at a private boarding school. Her mother was a leading light in the local Red Cross and Womenâs Institute and they owned several farms and a good deal of the land in the area.
Mrs Stancliffe employed a young German Jew as her housekeeper and her living quarters were in the topmost room of the ivy-covered tower. To me it seemed like a scene from a fairytale. Apparently she had recently been reported
Similar Books
