Hannah
Saturday 10th August

Annie and I are going to Compstall for the festival today. We were intending to go anyway, but then who should come to the door last night but Fred, and he asked if he could have the privilege of escorting us there. Annie was so pleased, as she really likes Fred, and I don’t mind having some adult conversation. I suggested that she invite her friend Mary Lively and we could pick her up at her house on the way by - at about 10 a.m.

I put on my white lawn dress, and put a blue sash around the waist. I wore my straw hat with the blue ribbons. I think it is high time that I stopped looking like a widow. Annie had her best hot weather frock on too, and was so excited she could hardly contain herself.

We walked across the back lanes to get there - as those who work in the mills do each day - which cuts the distance in half to what it would be if we went by the roads.
 
“Tell me about when you lived in Lower Ernocroft Farmhouse,” Fred said. “I often walk by it when I am on my way to my work at Mill Brow - and it looks a very substantial building.”

“There were only the two of us there, and it is a huge house - five bedrooms.  It was built in 1662 you know, which makes it interesting, but it was so cold there. Draughty and damp. But it is built of mellow stone, and the roof coverings are stone flagged. There are oak beamed ceilings throughout the ground floors, and stone mullioned windows. One of the sweet things that I would have liked to take when I left was a small salt cellar - with the date of 1662 carved into the wooden frame. It was a lovely little very useful cupboard.”

“Did Benjamin live there on his own before you were married? He wasn’t married before was he? I know he was quite a lot older than you.”

“He lived with his parents first, then when his father died, just with his mother. Then when she died, he had a housekeeper. But it wasn’t too long after that when we got married and I moved in, and the housekeeper left. I hardly thought there was need for her there when I didn’t have anything to do but cook and clean for him.

We shut off most of one wing - and lived in the big kitchen which had a lovely fireplace - and in one sitting room and our bedroom. Another couple lived there too - not in the same house but the adjoining property. They were Joseph Wood, and his wife Ann, both in their 60’s, and they had three grown up children. The boys helped on the farm and the girl worked at the mill. After Benjamin died and our house was sold, they moved too - this time to Ludworth House, and instead of being a farmer’s helper as he was to Benjamin - he now is an below ground coal hewer. Quite a change of fortunes for them.

By this time we had reached the middle of Compstall, and the brass band was marching up and down the main road, which had been closed to traffic for the day. All along the green, and up the grassy area  towards the Etherow River, people had set up stalls. There were cocoanut shies, and throwing darts games. I told Annie and Mary that they could go off on their own, and gave them each a shilling to spend. I told them to meet us again by the main road at 12.30 when we would find a convenient spot and have our picnic lunch.

What a sight. We didn’t know where to go first. There were hobby horses, swings, shooting gallaries. We were advised that there would be fights every hour on the hour, and we were encouraged to place our bets. There were displays of huge vegetables, sampling of homemade jams and marmalade, honeys of various sorts - all for sale or in competition for a prize. Apparently this evening there will be fireworks, and tomorrow, a chance to do clay pidgeon shooting.

After an hour of wandering, we went to the Pleasure Gardens, a very pleasant spot in Compstall. There were rustic seats, and Fred, ever the gentleman, went off to buy me a cup of tea while I rested my weary feet.

While I was sitting there waiting, a man who had been at our meeting at Horatio’s came into view. I smiled at him, and he at me, and then he came over.

“I know I should know you. I know I have met you, but I cannot for the life of me remember where or why?” he said with a smile.

“It was at Mr. Whittington’s meeting about buying our houses, a few weeks ago,” I told him. “I am Mrs. Harrison, and I do remember that you are the famous Mr. Joel Wainwright. It was such a pleasure to meet you the other night, and again now, of course.”

“I would hardly call myself famous, but it is very kind of you to say so, Mrs. Harrison.”

“I know also that you are or have been a Member of Parliament.”

“Ah yes, and what fun that was. Never a dull moment. And have you heard that the really famous Winston Churchill, who won the Liberal Seat for Manchester North West after, having crossed the floor some years ago, is coming here to Marple for a visit?”

“I’m afraid the name means nothing to me. Why should I know of him?”

“My dear lady, I could spend hours telling you about the man. He was a war correspondant in the Boar War and was captured. held a prisoner, escaped and took part in the relief of Ladysmith.

“In 1897 he saw action with the Malakand field force, which he later published in a book. He saw action with the Nile expeditionary force when he fought hand to hand against the Dervishes.

“In 1899 he resigned his commission in the army and returned to England a military hero and with the large amount of money he had earned by his writing (he had not inherited any money) he then decided to try to get elected to Parliament.

“He fought (unsuccessfully) a byelection as a Conservative at Oldham later in the year, but won the seat in the 1900 general election, Churchill found himself increasingly at odds with the Conservative leadership and as I said before, crossed the floor of the Commons in 1904. His conversion to Liberalism was controversial: the public reason lay in his continued support for free trade but he may also have suspected that his personal prospects were better as a Liberal, given the Conservative disarray under Balfour.

"His literary talents were engaged in writing the life of his father. I am sure he will leave his mark on history. But isn’t that our host of the other evening, Horatio Whittington over there? I will give him a wave.”

Horatio saw us and started to move towards our bench, but at the same time Fred came back with tea for me and himself, and Horatio just said, “Good morning,” and then he and Mr. Wainwright moved on to talk together. But before long Mr. Wainwright came back.

“Mrs. Harrison, and I’m afraid I don’t remember your name, young man.”

“I’m Fred Hodgkinson.”

“Ah yes, son of Benjamin my friend from Strines.”

“No, sir. I told you my father was a stone mason in Bollington.”

“So you did, young man. So you did. I came back to invite the two of you to my house. I am having the annual meeting of the Ornithology group. I don’t know if you have any special interest in birds, but it is my passion - but also I should love for you to see my house. I had it built myself and as you will see it reflects both my devotion to writing and my interest in our feathered friends. So that will be next Sunday August 19th. I have also invited Horatio as he is as a bit of a loose end these days with his wife away. So shall I see you there?”

“I would love to come,” I said.

“I am not too sure if I will or not, but thank you for the invitation,” said Fred, a bit stiffly. He does seem to feel at a disadvantage when next to these well spoken, important men from our neighbourhood. But nothing was going to stop me going - especially since I know that Horatio will be there too.

Shortly after our time of gadding was up, and we met back with Annie and her friend Mary and had our picnic by the banks of the Etherow River. Such a lovely part of the world. We are so lucky to live near such natural beauty.

After another quick walk through the fair grounds after our lunch, we made our way back up to Glossop Road and then to our houses. We dropped Mary off on the way by.

“Thank you Fred for a most enjoyable day,” I said, as we returned.

“Thank you, Mr. Hodgkinson,” Annie said politely, and we settled back into our little house as Fred made his way down the drive to Ivy Cottage.