Spectacular, Rather Than Significant

The following story is a piece I wrote for the local area magazine, it was published in the MACLA News Magazine Summer 2005 edition. It is a true story. I was 4 and a half years old at the time.

It was a lovely Sunday evening in mid-July, St Swithin's day 1945. We were hurrying along the bottom road to Blankney, myself, my mother and my aunt. There were other people too, mainly in small groups. Everyone had an urgency in their step and there was much excited murmuring. Where we were going I was not sure, but it was clear even to a four and a half year old boy, that the reason for our hurried journey held great significance. I remember my mother grabbing me by the hand to make sure I kept up and I was being dragged along, reluctantly, my feet barely making contact with the road. A few minutes earlier I had been playing happily in the yard at our home in Drury Street, Metheringham but my constant pleading to return fell on deaf ears. On reaching the long sweeping bend into Blankney we followed a path which led through the woods and onto the drive that links Blankney Hall with Metheringham station. As we headed up the drive in the direction of Blankney village I became aware of muffled voices in the distance. Turning left off the drive through a gap in the trees the reason for our impromptu walk suddenly became frighteningly clear. There before us stood Blankney Hall, huge flames leaping into the night air, through what a few hours before had been the roof of this stately building. Not being aloud to go any further we joined a throng of people standing at the north-east corner of the beautifully ornate sunken gardens that fronted the Hall. I clearly remember a strange silence as the large crowd of onlookers stared at the burning building in stunned disbelief. Being a small boy the event to me was spectacular rather than significant. We must have stayed for quite some time, watching the frenzied activity around the weakened building, because the light began to fade and the flames, now much smaller, were a vivid orange against the night sky, pierced by what was left of the charred roof structures.

The fire had evidently started around 5 pm. and was finally contained at 8 pm. The evening service at the church was cancelled and the Rector assisted Lady Londesborough, who was still living in a few rooms at the south end of the Hall. The most likely cause of the fire was thought to be an electrical fault in a blanket cupboard situated at the north end of the hall which at the time was occupied by WAFF's. The Hall had been commandeered by the Royal Air Force during the second world war and used as an operations room under the control of Digby Camp. The WAFF's were safely evacuated and most of their belongings were salvaged.

Despite the efforts of fire crews from RAF Digby, Lincoln, Sleaford, Billinghay, Metheringham and Woodhall Spa the Hall was damaged beyond repair. Sadly, sixty years on, nothing remains of the once magnificent Hall and for all intents and purposes it may never even have existed.