Bentley and Arksey as an Outsider - Part Four

Askern Road, Bentley

Mike's Memories

Presenting the fourth part of Mike Hoyland's wonderful account of growing up in the Bentley area in the 1950's and 1960's.

For part three go to Bentley and Arksey as an Outsider - Part Three.

For part one go to Bentley and Arksey as an Outsider - Part One.

Contents Of Part Four

• A Day In The Life Of
• Street-Corner Gatherings
• Bikes, Play Areas And The Home-made Trolley
• Train-Spotting
• Fishing For Mary Jane
• Tales Of The Riverbank
• Of Bubbles And Snakes

A Day In The Life Of

Street-Corner Gatherings

Many of us reflect on our childhood as if every day was full of riches and the weather was always kind. The reality, same as for youngsters today, is that there were days of ecstasy and days of excruciating boredom where friends were not available, the storms were relentless or parents had plans for you that conflicted with your own plans even if you didn't have any. It is handy how the mind remembers good things and protects you from the not so good. 

The street-corner gatherings concluding in “What we gonna do” were pretty much the same then as they are today. Although less instantaneous than texting or Facebook, the communication involved in pulling a gathering together was pretty efficient.

My fondest memories are of setting off early and finishing the papers, picking up the dog (Tim) from my Grandparents and heading toward the seat with our Gaz issuing forth a perfect rendition of the Johnny Weismuller Tarzan call.

Johnny Weissmuller (click image to listen)

This was a “hint” to our friends that we were heading toward the Little Tip and intent on walking over the Cuttings or Dugouts in search of whatever. Oh and with the dogs.

Many a collier, intent on sleeping off his night shift or night at one of the many pubs and clubs must have been dismayed when he heard that first clarion call. It was met with one or more responses and, true to teenage form, resulted in a battling crescendo as the parties drew near to each other.

The dogs would greet each other with a load of barking, yelping and face-licking and off we went for another day of bliss. Complete with dripping sandwiches and pop-bottles full of water.

The Facebook version of this is probably less stressful to the local community, and far less noisy.

What took place in our young lives back then may be slightly different to now. However, it is worth trying to record some of the activities, places and events before they start to slip out of our memories for all time and deny comparison.

Bikes, Play Areas And The Home-made Trolley

Bikes were the primary mode of transport. These were maintained with a ramshackle set of often, borrowed tools, with spoons from the kitchen drawer to lever off and on the tyres for inner tube repair. We had to keep the bikes in decent shape to do the paper rounds.

They were never locked and very rarely stolen. They also provided a means of racing either through the streets, woods or on the little tip. Calamities and collisions were frequent. Each crash was greeted with laughter, anger and sometimes tears. Cuts, bruises and even broken bones litter these memories.

There was a bike shop in Bentley sporting brand new bikes and fuelling the Christmas dreams of many of us. I think it was in the small row of shops near St Peter’s Church and Bentley High Street School; near one of the two barber’s shops on the High street.

Bikes were used to go everywhere. There were not many cars on the roads those days, so not many parents to act as unpaid taxi drivers. Trips in cars were for many of us a rare treat. Usually through a friend of the family or relative who had a well-paid job. Along with the lack of cars, refrigerators and phones were unheard of. Folk were regarded as “dead posh” if they had any of the above and royalty if they had all three.

Bentley and Arksey were not short of play areas. A good example was the air-raid shelters on the Avenue, in front of the New Village School in Bentley. They would have been even more fun if we could have gained access through the doors.

There was also a small park off a track between the Jet and Daw Lane. This was affectionately known as the Little Park to distinguish it from the main Bentley Park. The swings were on grass so many more bumps and bruises were acquired seeing who could swing the highest and who could leave the swing on its upward turn and leap the furthest.

Another mode of transport was the trolley; made from a plank and two cross-members with scavenged nails, nuts and bolts, and holes ‘drilled’ by red-hot poker from the fire. A length of ‘borrowed’ washing line tied to the front provided steering. Wheels and axles were scavenged from derelict prams, pushchairs, previous trolleys and even small-wheeled bikes.

The homemade Trolley

  

Seated on the trolley with feet on the front cross-member for steering, all you needed was a hefty push and Stirling Moss beware! Pushing was essential as the only two road hills at Tollbar and Bentley were a bit hairy and did get some traffic. The main race track was on the pavement alongside Bentley Colliery football pitch. That stretch was of road was known as The Tinnings. Presumably because the original fences were made from corrugated tin, occasionally however, there would be a smooth enough slope on the little tip to provide momentum for a scary run.

Like everything else we did, we did it with a passion and then moved on, picking up wounds and memories along the way.

Train-Spotting

Train-spotting was one of the fringe activities that would become popular for a while. Even “guys” who grew up to be “hard-cases” dabbled with train-spotting. Equipped with an Ian Allen book in which to record the numbers we would head to Arksey Crossing or the footsteps between Bentley and Arksey at the end of the cinder track. A more lucrative location was on Ings Lane near De Mulders between the York line which went through Arksey and the Leeds line which went through Bentley. The more lines, the more trains, the more numbers. Anoraks or what!

Arksey Crossing was always good because if the Signalman in the box was feeling good, he would let us ride on the gates as he opened and closed them. Forget health and safety.

Arksey Crossings in 1955

A big day out for some of us anoraks was a Saturday morning visit to Doncaster Station, sat on the cattle sidings, now the bus station and watching a string of steam trains coming out of the sheds freshly painted. The train Sir Nigel Gresley was a regular visitor and even Mallard showed her wheels from time to time.

We reached the platform by crossing the road from the old Bus Station, situated on the North Bridge, down the side of “Ye Olde Brown Cow”, a green glazed pub, same as the recently deceased Drum in Bentley. We then crossed wasteland of shale, now the bus station and car-park, to the platform sidings. No platform tickets. There were always a number of cattle and freight wagons in the sidings. Extreme anoraks even took the serial numbers of the wagons.

Fishing For Mary Jane

There are many places in Bentley and Arksey dear to my heart, none more than Arksey Pond. We never knew its real name, if it ever had one, we just called it Arksey pond; it was the one near the railway crossing. At the tender age of eight, equipped with some questionable fishing tackle, I set forth on my bike to the house on the corner of Burns Street and The Avenue in Bentley to buy a junior fishing permit from Jack Bretnall. He looked after the pond, I am not sure if it was a colliery fishing club or independent. All I know is that the day, the people I met and the fish I caught have stayed crystal clear in my memory.

Arksey fishing pond

My Grandad had got hold of one of the big tin boxes which used to hold ice-cream wafers in bulk. He neatly bolted a length of strap to either side to put over my shoulder and I had a readymade tackle-box and seat.

6d (2.5p) of maggots bought from a fishing shop alongside the Colliseum and carried in an old cocoa tin was the bait.

The pond was popular and, according to the older boys, held many legendary fish which they had been targeting for years to no avail. For example a pike that could have been anything up to 30lb, depending who was telling the tale. It even had a name: Mary Jane. Bank side rumour is the stuff of legends.

That first day of many was filled with magic. A small tench was my first capture followed by a couple each of roach and perch. I headed home at midday whistling and singing, and picked up some chips and fish-bits from Presleys in Bentley on the way. No finer way to celebrate.

I still fish today in and around the Norfolk Broads. One day I hope to have another go at Arksey Pond and maybe the Willowgarth and River Eabeck. Just to go full circle.

Tales Of The Riverbank

The affinity for nature was strong amongst the boys in Bentley Village at that time. Unsophisticated and not quite conservationists they still knew their stuff when it came to birds, nests, eggs, rabbits, snares, hares, foxes, rats, mice and bats and their interrelationships.

The Cuttings or Dugouts were beyond Arksey, toward Barnby Dun, and skirted the River Eabeck. We called it the Eabeck but it may be called Tilts or Thorpe Marsh Drain. The river was flood protected by erecting embankments from soil about 50 yards from the river’s edge. This scooping of soil resulted in long ponds following the river, on alternating sides, all the way down to its joining with the River Don; hence the name of the ponds, the Dugouts or Cuttings.

Some youngsters and dogs learnt to swim in the dugouts. Even amongst the weed, lilies and reeds. Anglers struggled through the weed to catch specimens. It was hairy and scary with dragonflies to scare the life out of you as a kid. And there was always the fear that you were trespassing.

The River Eabeck takes a severe left hand turn close to a drainage pump on the road between Arksey and Barnby Dun. The pond followed the course of the river and embankment and consequently it was known to us as the L-Pond.

Either on the way to the Dugouts or on the way back, we would head toward a small “outlet” on Marsh Lane in Arksey run by a lady who had a stall at her back door. I am not sure what else she sold since we were always concentrating on Dandelion and Burdock, Lemonade and crisps. They were wondrous to savor after a day “over t’ dugouts”.

Of Bubbles And Snakes

Some days, with energy on our side, we would make it to Barnby Dun. From Bentley Avenue, it’s a fair old walk especially with numerous distractions and mischief along the way. Crossing over the Barnby Dun Bridge over the River Don was always interesting. As kids we thought it fascinating to see the river run blood-red or deep blue. We knew that the factories on Wheatley Hall Road were responsible for the rainbows in the water but never understood the consequences.

My Grandad used to talk about swimming in the Don in the 1920’s, actually in the town centre. I believed him but I couldn’t see it. Reeds, lilies, weeds ….. All we ever saw in the 50’s was a rich palate of colours and detergent bubbles.

Take the Bentley or Arksey bus into Donny in the late 50’s and not only would you have a traffic jam but some days a display of bubbles clambering across the Don Bridge, part way up the bus, and giving a bubble display of sun-lit rainbows that 70’s rock-bands would have yearned for.
Thankfully we are now catching good fish where detergent from Sheffield and Rotherham ruled.

When we went “over t’ fields” the Willowgarth was always a place of magic. Inside, on a hot and sultry summer’s day, it was akin to the jungle. We swam or struggled in the silt-lined margins and revelled in the life around us.

Willowgarth fishing pond

On the railway line side of the Willowgarth undergrowth, one of the older lads captured a grass snake, by hand, which was seeking refuge in a discarded milk bottle. He carried it around Bentley Avenue and the backs, holding its head with the tail wrapped around his arm, quite a curiosity. Scaring mothers with their babies and impressing waking miners for an afternoon until he released it on the Little Tip.

Having immediate access to the countryside around and between Bentley and Arksey was magic. I experienced this from the ages of about eight to eleven; although in my memories it feels like a lifetime.

__________

Mike Hoyland 2014

For part five go to Bentley and Arksey as an Outsider - Part Five.



Edited by Alison Vainlo 2014, updated 2020.