This is a fictionalised account of a real visit to Shropshire during the First World War.
It was March 1916 and the war which had started in 1914 and was ‘sure to be over by Christmas’ continued unabated and the news from the various fronts seemed to get worse every day.
Polly Whatmore looked across anxiously across at her husband Noah. Thank goodness he had not been tempted to volunteer. He’d been 38 when war broke out, however and with three young children and a wife to support he’d not been in a position to offer his services. Half the young lads in Hoyland had gone, however, and Polly doubted whether many of them would return.
They had managed alright up until six months ago, Noah working as a blacksmith’s striker. The pay wasn’t marvellous, but it was sufficient and the rent on their four roomed cottage at 30 Brook Street wasn’t bad. Then Noah had fallen ill. It had started as a bad chill and had developed into pneumonia. It had happened because Noah,who was a prize swimmer, had spotted a young girl struggling in the waters of nearby Elsecar Reservoir. Without hestitation he had plunged in and dragged her to shore, saving her life. Although he had been a local hero at the time, the water had been bitterly cold and Noah had quickly become ill. Too ill to work at the smithy. Times were hard and after some three weeks the Blacksmith had come round, cap in hand, very apologetic like and said that he would have to lay Noah off it he wasn’t better soon, but it had been ten weeks before Noah was in any state to do anything. What a mercy the new sickness benefit was, which Lloyd George had introduced a few years before the War. That, together with the contribution made by their lodger, and the little that Polly was able to earn by taking in washing, was just enabling them to manage. Their lodger was William O’Brien from the family Polly’s parents lived next to in Mountain Street, Attercliffe. His sister Phoebe had married Polly’s brother William Dyson in 1906.
Shouting and laughter from the backyard gave to clue to where Hesse and Margaret had got to, whilst’s Polly’s third child Eric, just turned two years old, was curled up in a chair in front of the fire.
Eric Whatmore in 1917 Copyright: Rhys Whatmore
Noah’s father had died suddenly the previous year and they had had a struggle to persuade his widow, Esther, to move from Mountain Street to a smaller house in Uttley Sreet. Polly wasn’t over fond of Esther. When Polly had suffered the birth of a stillborn child in 1908, Esther had not been overly sympathetic. She seemed to think it was just part of life and that Polly should pull herself together quickly. Esther had had a total of twelve children and two of these had died in infancy and perhaps she felt that Polly should just get on with things as she had had to do, but Polly still resented the lack of understanding that Esther had shown at the time. Esther was in any case becoming a liability with her fondness for the bottle. It was probably that which had driven Noah’s youngest brother Harry to seek refuge in the army at an early age.
In the last few weeks, Noah had tried hard to get another job, but despite the number of young men away at the War, his age was against him and he had found nothing locally. There were the mines, but no way was Polly going to let Noah wreck his health working underground. She had seen the effect of that on her father George Dyson.
There was a sudden knock at the door and Polly got up to open it. On the step the postman dug into his bag and produced a letter.
‘Who’s it from?’ asked Noah, when Polly had again sat down by the fire.
‘It looks like Emily’s writing,’ said Polly, ‘And it’s got a Bridgnorth postmark.’
Noah took the letter and opened it. He read out the contents to his wife. After the usual enquiries about their health, the letter went on to say:
‘Charlie could do with some help down here at the Smithy in Morville. Why don’t you bring the family down here for a while. We’ve plenty of room – the children have all left home. Some country air would be good for all of you, especially Noah. Think about it and let me know as soon as you can.’
Emily was Noah’s aunt. Noah’s father Joseph had been illegitimate – nobody knew who his father had been, but his mother Sarah Whatmore, a year or two after Joseph’s birth, had married Benjamin Vale. Benjamin and Sarah had had a large family and Emily was the second eldest child.
The Whatmore Family in about 1920 Copyright: Rhys Whatmore
Emily had had a hard life. When she was in her late teens she had fallen in love with John William Aldridge who worked as a groom in the village of Bobbington on the Shropshire/Staffordshire border where she was living with her parents. They became engaged but then an illegitimate child, William Aldridge, was born. The John William broke his promises to Emily and made off leaving Emily and her parents to bring up the child. A few years later, however, Emily met and fell in love with William Barratt and they were married at Claverley in Shropshire in 1873. William and Emily had two beautiful sons, Benjamin and Joseph. Tragedy then struck. Within three years of the marriage William Barrett died so suddenly that there had had to be a Coroner’s Inquest. It seemed that William had had a massive heart attack. Left with no income and three young children to support, Emily gratefully accepted the hand of Charlie Wilson whom she married in 1876. Charlie was a blacksmith and he had assisted at several local forges until about 1906 he managed to acquire a forge at Morville. The forge had prospered and in 1908 they had a new house, Smythy Cottage, built for them on the edge of the village. Although Emily had remarried out of economic necessity she had quickly learned to love and esteem her new husband.
‘Well what do you think?’ said Noah at last, passing the letter to Polly to read. When Polly had read through the letter she looked at Noah and said, ‘What’s this Emily like? ‘Very like you,’ replied Noah. ‘She’s strong, hard-working, but very affectionate and sweet.’ Polly smiled and laughed. She had never met any of the Shropshire members of the family. Noah knew most of them, but it was a long time since he had been down there. The last time had been in December 1903 for the funeral at Astley Abbots of his step grandfather Ben Vale. Most of Ben’s surviving children had been there, Emily Wilson from Morville, Ann Wassall from Darlaston, Lizzie Humphries and Harriet Humphries from Broseley (they had married two brothers) and others.
‘I think it would be a good idea,’ said Polly, passing the letter back to Noah. ‘We’ll have to make the arrangements quickly.’ said Noah. ‘Charlie need help at the forge as soon as possible. What about the lodger and the house?’ ‘Mrs Hodgson opposite is looking out for a new lodger,’ said Polly. ‘Will won’t mind and Mary Hodgson is much better than me at cooking. We only need to give a fortnight’s notice on the house to the landlord. About the furniture – Sarah and John Makrill at Wright’s Farm have a disused barn they would let us use. Let’s go and see what the children think.’
Eric was, of course, too young to be consulted, but Hesse aged 7 and Margaret aged 4 would have views. Calling them in from the yard, Polly asked if they would like to go and live in Shropshire for a time. Following a barrage of questions about what and how and when, the two girls made plain their enthusiasm and excitement.
The following day, Polly sent a letter off to Emily and Charlie at Morville, and started making the necessary arrangements. All went smoothly and the following day she went down to Attercliffe to tell her parents. George and Rebecca Dyson were still at the old house in Mountain Street in Attercliffe. All but one of their children had fled the nest. Only Alice remained at home. Rebecca was quite upset at the thought that Polly would be living over a hundred miles away, but both she and her husband agreed that the plan made sense. Rebecca offered to go down town and get the train tickets as soon as a date had been arranged.
The light was beginning to fade and George stood up and put a match to the wick of the huge oil lamp hanging from the ceiling. Strangely out of place in the small cottage, the oil lamp with its cut glass starburst panes was George’s proudest possession. Together with an old chest it was all that remained from the fine house which George’s parents had lived in on Wright’s Hill off London Road. George never wearied of telling visitors how he had been cheated out of his inheritance when he had been orphaned at the age of ten.
Polly stood up and got ready to go, arranging to meet her parents at the station on the day of the move.
Time passed very quickly with all the arrangements to make for the move and only too soon the day from the journey to Shropshire arrived. Leaving the house very early in the morning the Whatmore family travelled in a carrier’s cart the few miles down to Chapeltown station where they were able to get a train to the city centre. As they stepped out onto the platform in Sheffield, George and Rebecca were waiting to meet them. Rebecca had packed a basket with food and drink for them. There was little time to spare as the Whatmores boarded a train for Manchester, their first step. With tears running down her face Rebecca hugged each of the family in turn and she and George said their farewells.
The first leg of the journey was familiar to both Noah and Polly as she had been a servant in Manchester for several years prior to her marriage, but it was all new to the children who gazed out in wonder at the bleak Pennine moors. At Manchester they transferred to a train for Crewe. Settling back on to the hard wooden seats of their third class carriage, they watched the hills give way to flatter country as they approached their next stop. From Crewe they took a train to Shrewsbury where they had an hours’ break and sitting in the waiting room shared the contents of Rebecca’s basket. The next leg of the journey was via the Severn Valley narrow gauge railway which chugged its slow way through small villages and then down the spectacular Severn Gorge. Unfortunately there was little to see now in the fading light. It was dark when at last they left train at Bridgnorth. A big, burly, strong man came rushing up to greet them and take their trunks. This was Charlie Wilson who grinned as he shook hands with Noah and Polly and kissed each of the children. Down in the yard his horse and cart were waiting to take the family the three miles to the smithy at Morville.
The following morning, Hesse and Margaret were wakened by the sun shining through their bedroom window. Jumping out of bed they rushed over to the window and looked out. A vista of fields and trees met their gaze with a low wooded ridge in the distance. It was all so different from the soot encrusted cottages and slag heaps that they were familiar with at Hoyland. Still in their nightclothes they dashed down the stairs into the kitchen. Polly was busy making breakfast with Emily and they both lifted up and kissed the girls. Noah was over in the smithy with Charlie. Noah had insisted on starting work at once, but Charlie wouldn’t hear of it. ‘Take a day or two to rest after that long journey,’ he said, and Noah had to agree reluctantly. A few minutes later Charlie and Noah came in for breakfast and Polly went upstairs to fetch Eric. They all enjoyed a delicious breakfast of bacon and fresh eggs with newly baked bread. ‘When we’ve fed the chickens and the pigs, we’ll go into the village and I’ll show you around,’ said Emily.
Eric Whatmore outside Smythy Cottage at Morville in the 1970s Copyright: Rhys Whatmore Click to enlarge
The children enjoyed throwing handfuls of corn to the chickens, but they were a bit wary of the pigs which seemed so strong and noisy. When they were all kitted out ready for a walk, the Whatmore family strolled down the lane with Emily, leaving Charlie hard at work in the smithy. The village was only a little place strung out along the road between Shrewsbury and Bridgnorth. Emily took them down the drive to Morville Hall so that they could see the elegant house with its twin pavilions which had been remodelled in Georgian times. Opposite the Hall in a meadow stood the ancient church parts of which were the remains of a monastry which had once existed there. Returning to the main road, Emily showed them the post office and village shop and the Acton Arms where the locals went for a pint. Then, strolling up the hill towards Bridgnorth she showed them an ancient half-timbered house situated on the right below the road. ‘That’s the old smithy where Charlie used to work. It belonged to the Browns – a brother and sister who never married. We lived there for quite a while and then Charlie got charge of a smithy at Linley a few miles away. When the Browns eventually gave up the Smithy they were both in their eighties and we decided to come back and establish a new forge on the other side of the village.’
Morville Hall Source: ‘County Seats of Shropshire’ by Francis Leach Published by Eddows’s Shrewsbury Journal Office 1891
Click to enlarge
Back at the cottage, lunch was a simple affair of bread and cheese. The main meal would be supper at six o’clock. Emily was excited because her recently married daughter Edith was coming to see them with her new husband Henry Edwin Jones. They lived at Quatt just south of Bridgnorth. About five o’clock they arrived and were introduced to the Whatmores. Edith made a great fuss of the girls and immediately fell in love with little Eric. By the time supper was ready they were all chatting like old friends. Emily called everyone into the kitchen and served up a delicious stew with apple pie and cream to follow. The adults stayed up chatting long after the children had gone to bed but eventually Edith and Henry set off home in their horse and cart.
On the first Sunday the Whatmores were at Morville, they went with the Wilsons to the morning service at the nearby church. As they entered, Hesse and Margaret dashed up the aisle hoping to get the pews at the front. Emily beckoned them back saying, ‘Those are reserved for the gentry. We sit much further back’. The families settled into pews towards the rear of the church and about ten minutes before the service was due to begin the gentry arrived from Aldenham Hall and Morville Hall and sat at the front. Their servants filed in behind them and sat at the back of the church. Hesse and Margaret were amazed by the church. It was very different from the brick-built Victorian church they went to at Hoyland. Polly Whatmore felt that the furnishings indicated that it was ‘High Church’ which she unused to – but she didn’t really mind. The sermon, thankfully, was brief and to the point, unlike the lengthy ‘hell-fire’ sermons which they often had to suffer at home. In the prayers, the vicar asked them to remember all the brave local men who had given their lives for their country, and called out the names of those who were still out there fighting, asking that they might be allowed to return home unhurt. The names included four of Emily and Charlie’s children – Charles Henry, George, John Abel and Frank Herbert as well as Jack Vale, Emily’s brother. Polly Whatmore said a silent prayer for the safety of her brother William Dyson and for Noah’s brother Harry. One curious thing occurred. The vicar had just ascended into the pulpit, opened his bible and shuffled his notes when he looked his watch. There was complete silence for several minutes and then the church clock started to strike eleven. As soon as the clock had stopped striking, the vicar read the opening text of the sermon and all proceeded as normal. Polly asked Emily about this afterwards and Emily explained that there was an old Shropshire superstition that if the church clock struck whilst the vicar was giving out the opening text of his sermon, someone locally would die within the week. It all seemed to Polly a very long way from the hard- headed mining folk of Hoyland.
Noah had started work at the forge two days after the family had arrived in Morville. He got on well with Charlie and there was plenty of work for two of them – shoeing horses, putting new iron rims on cart wheels and repairing broken farm implements. Polly helped Emily around the house and Emily was particularly grateful for Polly’s help with the weekly wash which involved lighting a fire under the copper boiler in an outhouse, filling the copper with water, inserting the clothes and prodding them with wooden stakes, removing the wet clothes, putting them through a mangle and then hanging them out to dry. It took all day to complete the wash - from early morning until suppertime.
Life at Morville was not all work however. There were trips over to Broseley to see Emily’s sisters Lizzie and Harriet, down to Quatt to see Edith and into Bridgnorth to visit the market with its stalls of fresh fruit, vegetables and farm produce. There were no shops of any size in the town – unlike Sheffield which boasted three department stores on several floors, but Polly didn’t miss these. She had rarely had any spare cash for luxuries. The children were taken for a ride on the cliff railway from the Low Town up to the High Town. Under each of the two carriages was a huge tank which was filled with water to act as ballast. It was twopence to go up but only a penny to come down. This was because more ballast was needed for the ascent than the descent. The girl in the bottom office would press a bell the same number of times as the passengers waiting to ascend, and the driver would adjust the amount of ballast accordingly.
Coming back from Bridgnorth on one occasion Emily pointed out to Polly a very large rambling Tudor house a mile or two out of the town. This was Tasley Hall and belonged to Sir John Buxton and his wife Lady Adelaide Buxton. They attended church regularly at Morville but were away at present on a European tour. They were down to earth folk and often chatted to the Wilsons after church. The Buxtons had no children and so the house and estate would eventually go to very distant cousin.
One Friday night, Charlie announced that there would be a special outing the following day. They were all going to go via the Severn Valley railway to visit cousins at Arley down the Severn. Soon after breakfast, the Wilsons and the Whatmores set off for Bridgnorth by horse and cart where they caught the train. The first stop was Hampton Loade where Edith and Henry were waiting on the platform to join the party. Noah tried to explain that this was where his father had lived, but with all the greetings that were going on, no one really heard him. The train continued along the river and stopped at Highley and a few minutes later arrived at Arley where the party left the train. Leading the way down to the river, Charlie explained that the village was on the other side. On the bank, attached to a post was a large bell which Charlie rang three times. At once, the ferry started to move across from the other bank. It was quite a large boat but Charlie told everyone that in the summer, when the river was low, a punt was used instead.
John Thomas Whatmore on the summer-time ferry at Arley Copyright: Thomas Whatmore
As the boat reached the bank, the ferryman jumped ashore and Charlie introduced him as John Thomas Whatmore, second cousin to Noah. John Thomas grinned and shook hands with everyone and then they all boarded the ferry for the short crossing. Polly told him how much they had enjoyed the train journey and said how pretty Arley station looked with all the flowers in hanging baskets and tubs, but John Thomas merely sniffed and his jaw stiffened. Later, Emily explained that John Thomas’s eldest brother Samuel had worked at Arley station and that he had been killed by a train when he was twenty back in 1881. He had been sent on to the line at night to extinguish an oil lamp at a time when a train was due to arrive. At the inquest no blame had been attached to the Station Master, but there had been angry letters in the ‘Kidderminster Shuttle’ and John Thomas held the senior staff at the station directly responsible for his brother’s death.
As they all arrived at the other bank, Thomas, John Thomas’s oldest son ran up to meet them and to show them the way to the house. It wasn’t far to the attractive looking building which stood close to the river with a long shady garden down to the bank. Emily, John Thomas’s wife was at the gate to meet them accompanied by numerous children. Polly wondered how they managed to fit them all into the house. Emily Whatmore invited everyone to have a seat in the garden whilst she got lunch ready, but the men helped set up trestle tables and the women fetched the food. When all was ready, one of the children ran down to the landing stage to call John Thomas for his lunch.
What a spread there was! There were plates of ham and beef and every kind of salad you could imagine and huge jam tarts with a jug of cream. The meal took some time as there was so much to talk about but at last everyone had had their fill, and the women attended to the washing up whilst the men dismantled the tables and took the chairs back into the cottage. John Thomas returned to his duties at the ferry.
When everything had been put away and the washing up had been done, Emily Whatmore invited her guests to walk over to see another relative -Samuel Whatmore at Nash End. She led the party down to the landing stage and then up the hill towards the church. Walking through the churchyard, the party went through a gate into a large area of parkland. Close at hand were the towers and battlements of a large mansion. Emily Whatmore explained that this was Arley Hall and that the owners were more than happy to let villagers wander round the gardens and grounds. There were many trees, some of them rare and exotic species from abroad. It was a beautiful spot. Glittering in the sun in the distance the river could just be seen whilst on the horizon was the sharp outline of the Titterstone Clee Hill. Leaving the castle grounds the party walked for about a mile along a lane until they reaching a small group of cottages. The most beautiful woman Polly had ever seen was hanging up washing in the garden of one of the cottages. Emily Whatmore shouted a greeting and the woman came down to meet everyone. This was Lizzie Whatmore who lived with her widowed father Samuel and her unmarried brother Samuel Joseph Whatmore. Lizzie’s mother Catherine had died in 1904 and Lizzie had returned home to look after her father and brother. Lizzie had been 37 when she returned home and she probably realised that she would never now get a chance to be married, but her nature was generous and unselfish and she was in any case thankful to escape life as a servant.
Lizzie called her father Samuel out to greet everyone. Samuel had been first cousin to Noah’s father Joseph Whatmore. Now in his mid seventies he was still strong and fit and he was soon answering all Noah’s questions about the Whatmore family. Lizzie ushered everyone into the kitchen of the small cottage and made tea. There seemed to be no water supply laid on and when Polly asked about this, Lizzie told her that they had a well in the garden. Living so far from the main village the cottage was not connected to any services. Polly had thought that the houses in Hoyland had few facilities but they were up to the minute compared to this cottage. The visitors didn’t stay long as they had called without warning, but Samuel and Lizzie were really pleased that they had come to see them.
Lizzie Whatmore with her father Samuel Whatmore and two of his grandchildren Copyright: Thomas William Whatmore Click to enlarge
The walk back to the village was all downhill so it didn’t seem to take very long. Back at Emily Whatmore’s house they all had tea and cake before making their way down to the ferry. When they arrived back at Morville everyone was very tired but it was agreed that it had been a wonderful day.
One Sunday a couple who looked to be in their mid-forties whom Polly had not seen before attended church. Emily whispered to Polly that they were Sir John Buxton and his wife from Tasley Hall. After the service they came up to the Wilsons and were introduced to the Whatmores. Lady Buxton made a great fuss of the children and told Polly how much she wished they had a child of their own.
A few days later, a carriage arrived at Smithy Cottage and Lady Buxton and a servant stepped out. Emily rushed around the house tiding up whilst Polly made tea in the kitchen. Polly was very impressed with Lady Buxton who insisted that she be called ‘Addy’. She chatted to Polly without a trace of condescension and wanted to know all about life in Hoyland. She had brought some sweets for the children and got them to show her round the garden. It soon became clear that Addy had fallen in love with Eric. Polly thought it was tragic that Addy had not been able to have children of her own. Thereafter Addy called at Smythy Cottage at least once a week. Then one evening she arrived unexpectedly together with her husband. They asked to see Noah and Polly in private and came out at once with the purpose of their visit. They wanted to adopt Eric as their son and bring him up at Tasley where in due course he would inherit the house, estate and title. Whilst sympathetic to their need for an heir, and conscious of Addy’s clear affection for Eric, Polly and Noah were adamant that they could not give him up. They realised that they were rejecting the chance for their son to lead a wealthy and leisured life, and felt that perhaps they were being selfish but they loved all their children far too much to give any of them up to anyone else. Addy and her husband were of course disappointed but they said that they fully understood. Addy continued to make regular visits, but the question of adoption was never raised again. In after years Polly wondered what life would have been like for Eric if she and Noah had let the Buxtons adopt him, but she was sure in her heart that they had made the right decision.
Time seemed to pass very quickly at Morville. The Whatmores had been there over a year and had began to wonder whether they should perhaps settle there and rent a cottage of their own when two letters arrived which changed the situation. The first was a letter for Polly from her father George Dyson. Polly’s mother Rebecca had been taken seriously ill. George had written asking if Polly could return to Sheffield at once. Polly was, of course, very upset and Noah agreed without hesitation that she should return to Sheffield the following day. He wanted to accompany her but Polly insisted that she would be fine on her own. Over the next couple of weeks Polly wrote regularly and it seemed that Rebecca was out of danger and slowly getting better. In one of her letters she mentioned that the Cyclops Steel Works in Attercliffe were taking on new workers.
The second letter, which arrived three weeks after George’s letter to Polly was in a War Office envelope and was addressed to Charlie and Emily. As she opened it, Emily turned white fearing the worst as she had four sons away at the War. To her enormous relief it stated that their son John was being invalided out of the army with a broken leg and that he would be arriving home shortly. Charlie and Emily were now in some difficulties. With John back home there would not be enough room for everyone, and as John’s leg healed he would expect to return to working with his father in the Smithy. Noah at once realised this and he decided that it was time for the Whatmores to move on. He wrote to Polly and suggested that they should return to Sheffield and asked if she could visit the Cyclops Works on his behalf.
In Polly’s next letter was the news that there would be a job available for Noah at the Cyclops Works and that she had found a house which they could rent in Margate Street in nearby Grimesthorpe. Noah told Charlie and Emily what Polly had written and they were clearly torn between wanting the Whatmores to stay on and their need to provide accommodation and work for their son.
So a few weeks later, Noah and his children started on the long journey back to Sheffield. They were all sad to be leaving Morville and Emily was in tears as she and Charlie said farewell.
It had been a wonderful year in Shropshire and it was an experience the family would look back on with pleasure in after years. As Eric grew up, his sisters told him all the details and when he was old enough Polly told him about the Buxton family of Tasley and their offer to adopt him. All in all, however, the family came to the conclusion that they belonged in Sheffield where all their close relatives lived and where everything was familiar, but for the rest of their lives Morville had a special place in their hearts.
The facts on which this story is based are quite sparse. Noah was out of work in the First World War and did take his family to Morville where they lived with Emily and Charlie, and a Lady from one of the big houses locally did want to adopt Eric. Beyond that everything in the story is speculation.
Why Noah should have been out of work is a mystery, but he did save a woman from drowning at Elsecar and this provided a reason for an illness which led to unemployment. In fact the Whatmores had probably left Hoyland for Sheffield by 1916, but some poetic licence must be allowed.
Smythy Cottage still exists and Charlie and Emily Wilson were certainly there by 1911. They had previously lived at the Old Smithy, as described in the story.
I doubt whether either the Whatmores or the Wilsons were aware of the relatives at Arley, but the visit there seemed to make a nice story.
Samuel Whatmore of Arley, John Thomas’s brother was killed by a train at Arley station and a crical letter was published in the ‘Kidderminster Shuttle’
Edith Wilson did marry Henry Jones and was indeed very fond of Eric.
Almost all the characters in the story are real apart from the Buxton family and there is no Tasley Hall. I have no idea who the lady from the big house was. She may have been from Aldenham Hall or Morville Hall or from somewhere a bit further away. She certainly existed and wanted to adopt Eric.
The superstition about the church clock striking did exist though I doubt whether a vicar would have taken any notice of it as later as 1916.
Why the Whatmores returned to Sheffield is unclear. Perhaps they had never intended to settle in Shropshire. I have invented reasons for their return. The Cyclops Works existed until recently but I have no evidence that Noah ever worked there. In 1911, at Hoyland, he was a Blacksmith’s striker.
Of the Wilson sons who went to War, two – John Abel and Frank Ernest returned safely, but I do not know what happened to Charles Henry or George. Jack Vale, Emily’s brother, returned home safely. Polly’s brother William was left for dead on the battlefield in 1918 following a gas attack by the Germans. He was discovered and revived by the Germans, and taken to a prisoner of war camp at Sprottau in Silesia (now part of Poland). William’s health never recovered form his experiences and he died in 1924. Harry Whatmore, Noah’s brother returned home safely but died following a accident at the Ireland Colliery near Chesterfield in 1937. Only one of the Arley Whatmores was killed in the War. This was Matthew Whatmore, Samuel’s son. Matthew was killed in a shell explosion in 1917 near Arras in France.
The Whatmores and the Wilsons remained in contact for many years, and Noah and his family made at least one visit to Morville in the 1930s. After the death of Polly Whatmore in 1936 and the deaths of Emily and Charlie Wilson a few years later the contacts were gradually broken. In the early 1970s, however, Eric Whatmore made a return visit to the Bridgnorth area and was able to track down Edith Jones, nee Wilson at Quatt, who was overjoyed to see him again after so many years. In about 2004 I managed to trace one of Edith’s sons at Quatt and paid a visit, receiving a warm welcome. With the aid of the internet I have also been able to trace and contact descendants of Emily’s sister Lizzie. Living as I now do in Shropshire, I make regular visits to Bridgnorth and as I pass through Morville on the way I always think of the special place which it still has in the thoughts and feelings of Noah and Polly’s descendants.
Information about Morville Hall can be found at this link:
http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-morvillehall
and about the Dower House Gardens at Morville at this link:
http://www.shropshiretourism.co.uk/attractiondetails.php?estid=1444
The Severn Valley Railway (which now runs only between Bridgnorth and Kidderminster) is described at this link:
http://www.svr.co.uk/
Arley castle was demolished in the 1960s but the arboretum is open to visitors and is described at this link:
http://www.arley-arboretum.org.uk/indexa.php
The life of Eric Whatmore, my father, has been described in an earlier post which can be found by typing his name into Google.
I am most grateful to Sandy Bullimore of Shrewsbury for proofreading this post and for suggested some minor changes to the text.
Norton Church Photo Copyright: Alan Heardman Source: Geograph website and reproduced here in accordance with the terms of the site licence which can be viewed at this link: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ 
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