Open Writing

...On the far side of the field was The Lawns Estate. To the children of the road, it was a fairyland—50 acres of woodland and forest paths, with two lakes and the ruins of an old house. What more could a child want?...

Wendy Ogbourne recalls her childhood wonderland.

I would like to take you back with me to one of my favourite childhood places. Having survived several years of bombings during the war in Southampton on the south coast of England, my parents were desperate for the peace and quiet of the countryside. We all moved to the outskirts of Swindon, on the edge of the Wiltshire Downs. I was then about eight years old and my brother three.

There were two distinct parts of Swindon—Old Town, which was the original village, and had not changed greatly for centuries, and New Town, 'down the hill', which had grown up around the railway yards, and was considered a much less desirable area. Developers were scrambling to provide housing of all types in the post-war years, and we took possession of a new house in a secluded cul-de-sac in Old Town. The gardens in the street were all large, and backed onto an open grassy field, where a farmer grazed cows. We were told that as residents, we had no right of access to this field. However, everyone immediately cut gates in their back fences, and henceforth exercised their dogs and their children there with impunity.

On the far side of the field was The Lawns Estate. To the children of the road, it was a fairyland—50 acres of woodland and forest paths, with two lakes and the ruins of an old house. What more could a child want? Each season of the year brought its own delights. There were trees to climb, birds' nests to find, bluebells to pick, blackberries to eat, squirrels to chase and autumn leaves to kick.

The lakes were home to all manner of water birds, and in spring we rushed to see the baby cygnets and fluffy coots swimming frantically after their mothers or running in crocodile behind them along the paths. The lakes were not for swimming, even in summer, and I remember hearing my mother tell of some youths being given a stern warning by the police, after being caught out skinny-dipping.

Though the Lawns appeared to be no-one's property, and there was no caretaker or ranger, the residents all felt very protective and responsible for them, and weren't about to tolerate any larrikinism. In winter, the woods became a wonderland of snow. The lakes would often be covered with ice, but I don't remember it ever being thick enough for skating, though elderly residents told stories of skating parties in the Good Olde Days. We had to be content with tobogganing down the slope of the field.
As a child, I simply accepted that The Lawns was there, created especially for my pleasure. Now I am older in years and have become more analytical, I have wondered what was its history and who brought it into being. The Goddard family were Lords of the Manor of Old Swindon from the 15th century, living on the Goddard Estate, now called The Lawns. The manor house was built in 1770, and is believed to be the site of a previous mediaeval building, as well as earlier remains having been found from the Stone Age, Bronze Age, Saxon and Roman times. Around the house, the family constructed parklands, an arboretum, formal gardens and pathways, and an Italian sunken garden, as well as the two ornamental lakes.

The Goddards lived there until 1927 when the last of the male line, Major Fitzroy Pleydell Goddard died. The house then remained empty, until being occupied by British and American forces during World War II. The whole estate was purchased by the local Council in 1947 for £16,000, and the grounds renovated, but the house was in a derelict condition and unsafe and had to be demolished.
Today The Lawns is open to the public and is one of Swindon's proudly owned recreation areas. I hear it has become the venue for a number of popular events, including the Forest Festival and the traditional Dawn Chorus celebration on May 1st each year. I hope that the families who go there now have as much enjoyment from it as I did and are still able to feel the quiet stillness of untouched nature. I hope there are no hotdog stands or ice-cream stalls. I hope that the children still exclaim in delight at the diving moorhens and fluffy chicks. And I hope that the larrikins are still prevented from marring the pristine waters of the lakes

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Wendy writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au