A false Sheffield

My regiment, 2nd Searchlight Regiment, Royal Artillery, was reunited in the Isle of Anglesea after their return from France, via Dunkerque, in 1940. While we were there a troop was selected to undertake a secret mission on behalf of the government in London. It seemed that the Germans had been using successfully a decoy system to confuse enemy aircraft into believing that they were bombing effectively their targets, though in fact their bombs were failing on open countryside. So pundits in a ministry in London decided to try out a similar scheme in the Sheffield area, i.e. to make a nightly dummy Sheffield in the moors to the west of the city.

A searchlight regiment was chosen as people who understood something about electricity! So we set off from Anglesea, two officers, a lieutenant and a second lieutenant, being me Oliver Murphy then 19 years old, and our troop of men with lorries, generators and all the equipment we might need, bound for Hathersage which became our base.

In Hathersage we met the London 'boffins' who explained their plan. Steel required for the war effort was being made night and day in Sheffield. When the doors of the giant furnaces opened to allow the molten metal to cool, a vast glow appeared in the sky. It was our job to replicate this in the moors.

Further there was a large railway marshalling yard in Sheffield, the biggest in Europe they said, and its lights were a nightly landmark for enemy aircraft. So if we could mimic a cooling furnace and 'move' the marshalling yard into the moors we would have set up a successful decoy for German bombs.

The 'boffins' produced scaled maps of the railway yard lights and explained the timing of the decaying glow of the steel furnaces. Then we set to work, first of all to build an underground control centre, then to map out the position of the lights and lay their cables. The generators had also to be protected in bomb proof shelters.

To mimic the glow of the furnace it was decided to use large theatre lights with a rheostat system to replicate the cooling glow of the molten metal. An artist had already made night sketches of Sheffield from the air, and when our work was nearing completion a captive barrage balloon was brought to the moor site so that the artist could observe our model. He went up in a basket suspended below the balloon to sketch our dummy Sheffield as soon as it became operative.

Apparently it must have been considered realistic as we were then asked to make a dummy Chesterfield as it was thought that Chesterfield might be used as a landmark by bombers lining up to bomb Sheffield. This was a simple affair consisting only of lights laid out in the moors west of Chesterfield.

When all the work was completed we returned to our regiment and never heard again any mention of the decoy scheme, though there was a rumour that it had been bombed.

Oliver Murphy

Ed. This account was given to Ryland Clendon, an editor of 'Hathersage Remembers' by Oliver Murphy who is now 80 and lives in France. If anyone knows anything further about the decoy scheme, or whether it was to any degree a success, please let Ryland know on Hathersage 650863 and he will pass it on to Oliver.

This Old Horse

The Old Horse was a traditional folk play performed locally at Christmas and the New year. It was an unaccompanied ballad chanted by several men and enacted by one man dressed in a black cloak topped by a symbolic, stylised horse's head.

The group would visit farms, public houses, and the houses of leading citizens. As well as performing in Dronfield, neighbouring villages were also visited including Dore. At the end of the performance a hat would be passed round, or drinks would be offered.

In later years the horses head was a large, heavy, fearsome papier mache construction formed around the skull of a blind pony killed while failing down Holmely Quarry. It was donated by the Lucas family. This head was fixed onto a broom handle so that the operator, enclosed in the material, could flaunt and flourish the head and snap the jaws as the story unfolded. Gallant but abused the horse falls to the ground in doleful death throes, then rises again in resurrection and celebration.

This custom survived well into the twentieth century, and it may be that there are still some alive who remember the tradition.
Like many folk customs The Old Horse was an irreverent occasion accompanied by heavy drinking and a great deal of noise. On at least one occasion it resulted in tragedy.

In January 1869 it was reported in the Derbyshire Times, that a man was lost on the moors. "A number of persons, including James Greenwood and Thomas Oxley, had left Dronfield the previous Thursday to go to Barlow and neighbouring villages, to act in what is well known in Derbyshire as the 'Old Horse'.

"On Friday evening Greenwood and his comrades visited the Bulls Head Inn, Calver. Words of an angry character are said to have passed between Greenwood and Oxley, which ultimately ended in a fight, and Greenwood leaving the party, as it is supposed, to go home. He was last seen as late as 12 o'clock at night, and being defective in sight and also worse for liquor at the time he left the Inn, it is supposed that he may have (being a stranger) missed his way, and perished on some part of the moors, or otherwise have got into the river Derwent, which was much swollen by the heavy rain falling at the time."

The paper went on to describe his appearance "He is of middle stature, with a scar on his left cheek near to the jaw, and had on two coats, one of fustian and a dark overcoat mended at the elbow of one of the sleeves, dark trousers and a pair of light clogs......"
The next issue of the Derbyshire Times reported that his body had been found in the Derwent about a quarter of a mile from the public house.

Ed. The Dore Village Society has recently managed to transcribe a copy of the performance.

Jean recalls

I can't help thinking, what a dirty untidy place Dore has become. Litter, graffiti, leaves, cars parked anywhere and anyhow. In the past there were several teams of road sweepers. Keeping the village clean, with their horses and carts were Joe Unwin, Nodder Priestly, Jack Greaves, to name but a few. Now we are lucky to see a Corporation Sweeper and the Gully Sucker seems to have become a distant memory.
Norman who worked for Mr Haslam of Ringinglow used to keep the Hathersage road swept. He had a little den deep in the hedge below the Dore Moor. The poor man's life became a misery when we children discovered his hideaway. He seemed to have a large collection of brushes in various states of wear. I guess he never threw any away.

Joe Unwin had a slight speech impediment and referred to leaves as weaves. He had an allotment and I remember his favourite saying was - you need plenty of weaves to make a garden grow. He certainly had plenty of them.

High on the hills between Strawberry Lea and Totley Moss can be seen the remains of a once substantial farmstead, known to the natives as Kitty Mottrams. My grandmother used to tell the tale that Kitty lived at the farmstead with her brother. One winter the brother took ill and kitty made her way to Totley to obtain medication for him. The weather turned bad and kitty got caught in a snowstorm and perished in a snow drift. No mention was ever made as to the fate of the brother and I have no idea what year this would be, nor if its truth or legend. The trees round the ruin could be seen from where we lived and strangely used to change shape. If they resembled a galleon in full sail, we could expect bad weather and if they looked like a hay cart the weather was usually settled and good.

Another story told of the farmstead was that during the Civil War, one of Cromwell's men raped the young woman who lived there and she went barking mad and was supposed to roam the area, long after death.

After the great fire when Totley Moss burned for weeks and covered Dore in a cloud of muck, (late 50's I think). The peat burned to such a depth that ancient stone circles appeared after centuries being buried. They have long since been covered by the bracken and heather.
Recently there have been several complaints about the state of the fennel behind the Church Hall and the football field. And the yellow lines near the Co-op don't seem to have made much difference to the cars parked there. The bus is always being held up and cars still continue to go the wrong way.

Jean Dean

Ed. In our last issue we said Frankie Fisher lived at Church Lane Farm, when we should have said Croft House Farm.

A rambler made

"A rambler made is a man improved"
To many veteran walkers the initials GHBW are synonymous with the great outdoors and the birth of organised rambling.
George Herbert Bridges Ward was born in 1876 not far from Sheffield City Centre. His father, a mechanic by trade, introduced the lad to an early love of the open air and, by 1900, 'Bert', had established the Sheffield Clarion Ramblers which, he claimed, was the first active rambling club of its kind to be formed in Britain. In September of that year he led the first club outing - over what was to become a great 'battlefield', Kinder Scout.

It was his desire, that land should be free for all to enjoy lawfully, which led to a writ of trespass being served on him for making an annual pilgrimage to a cairn on Kinder where a fellow rambler had perished. The £ 17 fine was accompanied by an injunction forbidding Bert from entering the moor without prior consent.

In 1910, he started off the Sheffield Clarion Ramblers' handbook which developed into a pocket sized mine of information on rambling, local history, folk fore and records of conversations with locals. That handbook has become one of the most sought after of publications and is constantly used as a rich source of information, not least of all by myself. He continued as editor for 47 years finding time to write constantly elsewhere and, recognising the work of his famed predecessor, he revised John Derry's "Across the Derbyshire Moors".
Concerned that public rights of way were gradually being erased, he formed the Hallamshire Footpath Preservation Society in 1912 and, over a number of years he was instrumental in gaining access to huge tracts of land in the Peak District. Ward was a prime mover in the formation of what we now know as the Ramblers' Association, and in 1926 founded its Sheffield & District Federation. He also found time to take part in the formation of the local YHA and assisted in the purchase of the Longshaw estate (now owned by the National Trust).

Having started his working life in engineering at the local steelworks, he then transferred to the Ministry of Labour before retiring in 1941. After that Bert was able to spend more time on his outdoor interests with his wife Fanny. He lived many years on Moorwoods Lane at Owler Bar, a few hundred yards from his beloved Big Moor. In 1949 the Access to the Countryside Act came into being but by that time Ward's great contribution, towards access for all, had been well recognised. Four years earlier he had received a just tribute. On 8th April 1945, some 2,000 ramblers gathered on Lose Hill in the Peak District to witness Bert receiving the deeds to 54 1/2 acres of that summit (forever to be called Ward's Piece). A plaque there records that the Sheffield & District Federation of the Ramblers' Association had purchased the land in appreciation of the life's work of George Herbert Bridges Ward F.R.G.S. and an inscription repeats one of his favourite slogans "a rambler made is a man improved". Ward's Piece was then presented to the National Trust.

On 6th July 1957 Sheffield University conferred an honorary degree of Master of Arts on G.H.B.W. but sadly he was unable to attend due to ill health. The Public Orator said "...that no man could have worked more tirelessly for the preservation and accessibility of our countryside heritage and especially of the incomparable Peakland. No man in the last half-century could have done more, by precept and example, to foster the true spirit of rambling".

Bert Ward died on 14th October 1957, leaving behind a rich heritage for all walkers and visitors in our countryside.

Brian Edwards

Good use of time

Although Sheffield has many amateur horologists, there are only three professional (Fellowship standard) clockmakers. Most likely in a few years, none. Our nearest Mr John di Nitto has a shop on Abbey Lane where amongst the faces of customers and clocks, he told me about being the "last of the line".

In the war years Nicolo di Nitto (his father) worked for H.L.Brown, then near Cockaynes and ran to search the shop when it was blitzed. From the smashed windows he retrieved bits and pieces, but lost all his tools. In a tin, in a drawer, lie the jewel holes saved from those days. Also very treasured boxwood tools, still used, sent then or later from colleagues at Barnby Rust in Hull when they heard of the disaster. A beautifully crafted wooden oil pot dated 1848 is one of them.

He then worked from home in Frecheville mostly trade work, copying. It was then at the age of only 8 that John learnt alongside his father ( reminiscent of Harrison senior and junior of longitude fame!) In his teens John was indentured to the family with a cousin and uncle all at Attercliffe. At the time Nicolo was Chairman of the British Horological Institute, with 30 or 40 members turning up to local meetings, all of them earning a living by clocks. Two Sheffield warehouses were needed to hold spare parts for the industry.

The next move was father to Sharrowvale Road and John to Campo Lane, then to the present shop. Neither he nor Keith Laycock of Spital Hill (who is half retired) have apprentices or family interested in continuing the business. Although retirement for John could not be clock free!
Over a period, digital watch and clock manufacture has decimated the trade. For £9.99 you can buy a digital watch which wouldn't cover the cost of replacing the glass on a traditional watch. Although there's a demand for jewellery repairs, they don't warrant a shop, and jobbing jewellers still exist in Sheffield. To Mr. di Nitto the shop window is not the heart of the business. Clock restoration is. These have never gone out of fashion and are possibly less neglected now that awareness of antiques shows us their true value. They are often faithful for 20 years or more before needing repair and adjustment. He has also helped with the installation of the new Millennium Methodist Church tower clock in Dore.

On his card it reads "Clockmaker to Sir Reresby Sitwell". Less exalted customers bring theirs in (often damaged by amateurs) and are assured of a lifetime's experience.

Gillian Farnsworth

Rail Travel Problems

The troubles being experienced by rail travelers at the present time brought to mind an experience I had in the later war years, which goes to show that rail travel problems are nothing new!

It was 1944, towards the end of the war, and after five years without a holiday the chance of a week in North Wales seemed too good to be true. My friend and I, aged 13 and 14, accompanied by our mothers (our fathers being otherwise engaged) packed our suitcases and made for the railway station heading hopefully for Llandudno. The crowded platform did nothing to dampen our enthusiasm, confident in the belief that once aboard the train everything would be straightforward.

Alas, it was not to be so simple. The train we eventually boarded could only take us from Sheffield to Manchester, where we would have to change stations in order to catch a train to North Wales.

Nevertheless this part of the journey proved to be pleasant enough, despite not having a seat other than an up-ended suitcase on the floor. The trek across Manchester from one station to another was more of a trial struggling with heavy suitcases and all the bits of paraphernalia deemed necessary for a week's stay away from home.

The sight of a long crocodile of people stretching for a hundred yards down one side of the street opposite the station and back for another hundred yards on the other side dampened our enthusiasm somewhat. It appeared that only a certain number of people were being allowed into the station at a time, notwithstanding in which direction they wished to go, and only being allowed on the appropriate trains as and when they arrived. Timetables were not relevant.

It took almost three hours to reach the front of the queue, my friend and I having whiled away the time playing chess on his pocket chess set whilst our mothers chatted away to each other and anyone else within range. People were much more patient in those days, "There is a war on you know" being a well used catch phrase to cover any inconvenience. Finally we surged onto a crowded platform and a train pulled in - empty! Everyone clambered aboard and we actually managed to get seats, only to find out that this particular train was going nowhere near North Wales! Crestfallen, we disembarked and sat amongst our luggage on the platform wondering if we should ever reach our intended destination, which now seemed further away than ever.

After what seemed an eternity another train arrived and we were reliably informed by a porter (a very rare breed in those days) that this train was in fact scheduled to travel to North Wales and may possibly reach Llandudno if the coal held out. We climbed aboard once again but this time there were no seats available and we spent the entire journey standing, leaning and eventually sitting in the corridor. We finally reached our destination late that evening, tired, hungry and in the blackout, having left home around 8am. We managed to find a boarding house with one room available, which our mothers shared, and we were directed to another establishment a few doors away which had a room available for my friend and I.

The traumas of our journey were soon forgotten as we enjoyed a week of unbroken sunshine and freedom, a real tonic after 4 years of war-time restrictions. The journey home was slightly better, notwithstanding the 18 people crowded into one compartment (no corridor) from Llandudno to Manchester and the final leg to Sheffield standing in the guards van - but never mind, we had managed a holiday!

Pioneers in Dore

Article from the Sheffield Independent September 1938.

Sheffield Men Get Television Programmes.

In a secret experimenting room on the remote outskirts of Sheffield, three men have been receiving television programmes from London.
The leader of this small group of enthusiasts is Mr G W Bagshaw, the well known radio expert and manager of the wireless department of J G Graves Ltd, Sheffield. They received an almost perfect picture and sound on Tuesday night. Conditions then were ideal and one radio amateur said they were the best they had ever experienced.

The television receiver used is the only one in the north of England and is not of commercial manufacture. He is the only person in Sheffield to have received television programmes. Special attention has been turned to television in the past few days owing to the Radio Olympia exhibition.

Triumph Over Distance

A "Daily Independent" reporter yesterday saw the receiver at the experimental station at Dore Moor, near Newfields Lane. All that can be seen from the road is two large latticed wireless masts and few who pass know what they are for.
Mr Bagshaw said he had been receiving the pictures for the past three weeks and the station is perfectly successful. From London to Sheffield is one of the greatest distances television pictures have been transmitted and this is the only amateur station to cope with such distances. "It was thought that television had a visual range as far as the eye could see. That is the true range but it is possible to receive from greater distances," he said.

Very Satisfying

"Working on ultra short waves, pictures have been received further than was at first thought possible, and I have found that I can receive transmissions from Alexander Palace....." "In Sheffield we are 100 miles away from the transmitter and it cannot be expected that our pictures are as clear as those in the London area." "However we have obtained pictures which, although they might not suit the critical onlooker, are very satisfying to the experimenter."
Mr Bagshaw has been experimenting in television since its inception.

First Attempts

The first station was in the radio department of J G Graves, Ltd, but after a time it was realised that interference from motor cars and trams were hindering progress. The site at Dore was chosen since it is almost ideal for radio work. It is 750 feet above sea level and remote from roads and electrical interference.
In the station is a bewildering collection of radio apparatus. The workshop is only small, but is large enough to contain all the necessary equipment. The twin radio masts, which were built on the site, are nearly eighty feet high and carry a large aerial.

Short-wave Transmitters

In the shed, which was built nearly two years ago, is housed over a thousand pounds worth of apparatus. There are five short-wave transmitters and several ultra short-wave receivers. Mr Bagshaw is a keen amateur transmitter and makes regular broadcasts. Owing to the thundery weather conditions were unsuitable for television transmissions yesterday. During the past few days however almost perfect pictures have been received.
Mr Bagshaw is assisted in his work by two other radio enthusiasts, Mr K Hopkinson of Crosspool and Mr G Thompson. Both are employed at Graves Ltd.

Sheffield Prospects

Asked for his views on the future of television in Sheffield, Mr Bagshaw pointed out that results are only obtained outside London by using very intricate and expensive apparatus and having special receivers. Until there was a local transmitter there was very little prospect of Sheffield people being able to receive television.
So far as the provinces were concerned he thought the BBC and the Post Office were waiting for a better response in London before they put up provincial stations.

Radio Link

The first step towards the opening of a provincial station was thought to be the completion of the special cable between London and Birmingham, but as that cable had been completed sometime ago and there was no news of a Birmingham transmitter, it was thought in radio circles that either the cable was not satisfactory in a technical sense or the Post Office thought it much more useful for multi-channel trunk lines.

"It would seem that the solution to the provincial station is a radio link, which means using ultra high frequency transmitters between towns to convey television sound and speech. All this is a very expensive undertaking and to cater for the whole country at present would appear to be prohibitive in cost" he added.

Ed. It seems impossible nowadays to think of a world without television. I wonder what the next 62 years will bring?

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