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Taken in the late 1890s this photograph shows Hillside with the Nottingham Canal lying next to it. This portion of the canal was eventually filled in during the 1960s. The photograph shows the maltings featured in Frank Barnes' Lenton Times article, which is reproduced in full in our online edition of Issue 3. |
Taken from an undated picture postcard this view of the Nottingham Canal shows the Derby Road bridge and the gatehouse to Wollaton Park in the distance plus some of the properties on Hillside itself. Just coming into the picture on the left is the end of the set of terrace properties shown in some of the other photographs included here. |
Taken from the roof of Lenton Lodge this early 1980s photograph shows the view of Derby Road looking towards Hillside, which is visible on the extreme right of the photograph. The property behind the Hillside shops was then occupied by a building firm. The building now houses the Angels by Day nursery which sponsored Lenton Times Issue No.15. |
At the beginning of the twentieth century the maltings were partially demolished and replaced by this set of terrace properties. These came down in the early 1980s and their site incorporated into that of the Q.M.C. |
Part of the Hillside terrace looking towards Derby Road. The rendered property in the centre of the photograph would have been was a survivor from the maltings which previously occupied this site. The photograph is undated but given that this and the adjacent property are boarded up the shot is likely to have been taken in the mid 1970s. |
Further along Hillside as you approached its junction with Spring Close was the entrance to Hillside Gardens - a set of allotments. This 1950s shot shows 'Salamanca', one of the huts on these allotments with Clara Blagden positioned in the doorway and her daughter, Gladys Amy Singleton, standing alongside it. See below for Dave Singleton's memories of Hillside Gardens. |
Articles from Lenton Times Magazine
Hillside Recollections - Taylor Made - Issue 2 - May 1989
The Hillside Malting - The 'Hole' Story - Issue 3 - November 1989
Articles from 'The Lenton Listener' Magazine
Hillside Blues - Issue 39 - April-May 1986
Hillside Gardens
As a child I lived at the Beeston end of University Boulevard but my parents had an allotment at Hillside over in Lenton and what follows are memories of the many happy hours I spent there during the 1950s.
It was always fair weather when we pulled up on our cycles at the entrance to the Hillside Gardens. The big wide wooden gate was set back from the road on a bend on Hillside about opposite the bridge over the canal to Hill Close. At this age I had my own Humber bike but my sisters were transported by my father on his Raleigh cycle with a seat on the crossbar and rather flimsy sidecar. My mother too had her Raleigh bike with a large front basket in which our picnic lunch reposed.
Father had a key to the lock on the gate which swung back to admit us but then had to be relocked to prevent strangers from entering. The gravel pathway climbed uphill between high privet hedges now and then surrounding inviting wooden gates offering tantalising glimpses into gardens bursting with fruit and vegetables. There were sheds, some looking rather grand along with greenhouses, the glass blindingly throwing back the bright sunlight. The smell of wood smoke and burning garden refuse coupled with the chink of spade on stone and the tobacco smouldering pipes clutched in the mouths of the gardeners pervaded the senses as we cycled up and up towards out own 'place in the country'.
Upon reaching our allotment, we leant the cycles in the hedge and eagerly awaited the gate unopening. Then, there it was, in all its glory. The beaten earthen pathway edged by broken bricks through the lines of gooseberry bushes with huge dessert goosegogs just crying out to be eaten. Then the two ancient Victoria plum trees laden with purple fruit crying 'Eat Me'. There were also apple and pear trees and less enticingly lots of rows of vegetables plus a glass lean-to containing tomatoes that tasted like nothing we have eaten since.
Then, to our right and at the end of the garden was the shed. The shed with its lace covered windows, the little sink with a pump for the trickle of water that could be induced from the tank at the back of the shed. Then there was the little stove with its pipe going up through the roof and lid through which the paper and sticks would be thrust and lit for the first pot of tea.
Father would soon be at work with his spade and mother would cut the hedge whilst we would gather weeds from the digging or the bits from the hedge cutting for the inevitable bonfire that was to come.
There was a little table in the hut and an old chair with stools. This was where we had our lunch of sandwiches and cake and cup of tea. There was then an opportunity to gather (and sample) the fruit that had ripened. Most of this would be taken home in the basket for desserts and jam making.
Then we would be allowed to leave the allotment gate for an hour or so's exploration. Wandering the green lanes and cheekily poking our heads round the open gates of other gardens and finding a hedge of ripe blackberries demanding our attention. After marvelling at the windmill that pumped water from the depths and through the maze of pipes that fed the gardens, we made our way back in time to throw more bits on the smoking fire before locking up and making our weary way home again.
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