Ruth Moore: A Marshwood tale

By Belinda Bennett
belinda.bennett@archant.co.uk

• Ruth Moore today.

• A young Ruth Moore.

• THE parish church at Marshwood where Ruth Moore once helped to light the furnace with her adopted father, George Powell.

• A HAPPY PLACE TO GROW UP: Marshwood, in West Dorset.

QUAINT cottages cut into the steep and narrow pathway that is Sherborne Lane. They border each side of the unforgiving climb, and are credited with being one of the most picturesque, if not immediately obvious, sights in Lyme Regis.

It was in one of these chocolate box cottages that Ruth Moore (nee Ruth Hope Holman, then Ruth Powell) was born.

She came into the world 84 years ago, on a Spring day.
Behind the picturesque front door, this tiny new life was destined for a less than rosy start.

Ruth’s mother was unable to keep her and, under the watchful eye of the clergy, she was removed from the place of her birth and taken in by a woman at Bettiscombe.

“I wasn’t with her for very long when I moved to Marshwood to be brought up by George and Kate Powell, a childless couple who were in their fifties,” remembers Ruth.

“Marshwood was one of those old fashioned villages, with a pub and even its own baker’s.

“Those were the days when children could play in the road and fields, and everybody seemed to know everybody; it was a happy place.”

Ruth started school younger than most - at just four.

Curiosity got the better of her, when she heard children laughing in the village playground.

“I went in and they let me stay,” she said.

Ruth attended Marshwood School at a time when it was enjoying a period of stability.

The likes of headmistress Minnie Hamden brought a touch of order to the school, which in the late 1800s had suffered a long succession of masters and mistresses - many driven out of the village by lack of heating in harsh winters, poorly behaved children and competition from Mr White’s private school.

Pupils’ attendance had been very poor, with parents keeping their children at home for every conceivable reason - from races at Lambert’s Caste to village sales and haymaking.

Smallpox and whooping cough also diminished ticks in the register.
When she was 11 Ruth was transferred to the school at Thorncombe, which was customary.

Vincent’s bus would negotiate the narrow, winding lanes between the two villages.

“When I came home and got off the bus, I used to go back into Marshwood School, clean it and get Miss Hamden’s tea ready,” said Ruth.

“She used to give me half-a-crown every week. I gave it to my adopted parents towards housekeeping.

“Miss Hamden was ever so nice. I remember she had a little Scottie dog.
“I was kept pretty busy through my school years.

“I was scrubbing floors before I was 10 or 11. I worked damned hard as a kid. Life wasn’t easy by a long way.”

The mistress at Thorncombe School knew how to keep her pupils warm. She used to brew up a bucket full of cocoa and dish it out as a treat.

Occasionally, Ruth had some spare pennies and she’d spend them at the baker’s in Thorncombe.

“It was a lovely baker’s,” she remembers. “It had little cream cakes and all sorts.

“Once, I didn’t behave myself at school. I was a bit of a giggler, so I was put under the piano with a bucket on my head. The more I giggled, the more it rattled!”

George Powell, Ruth’s adopted father, was sexton at the parish church in Marshwood and Ruth keenly recalls helping him to light the basement furnace.

She was closer to him than she was his wife and fondly remembers long walks in the countryside, treks to the doctor’s in Charmouth and looking after Mr Powell when he was unwell. She even had to shave him, with a cut-throat razor!

Life started to pick up for Ruth when she reached 15. She discovered dancing and says: “I was dance mad!

“I used to go to all the dances around.

“In those days, there was something called ‘bus dances’.

“You paid your bus fare and it included entry to a dance.

“I went to dances in all the villages and in Bridport and Chard.

“I can’t dance anymore, but I love watching Strictly Come Dancing on the telly.”

The Second World War was a terrible tragedy for many families in Britain, but, for Ruth, it gave her a chance to have what she longed for most - her own family.

After leaving school at the age of 14, Ruth went into service, as a parlour maid, at The Court, in Charmouth.

A few years later, she encountered Ron Moore.

Adopted himself, as a child, and originally from Hartlepool, he was enjoying a new sense of ‘family’ with the Medical Corps and was stationed at Marshwood Manor.

He and a friend had been picking blackberries when they came across Ruth and asked: “When’s the next bus?”

She laughed: “It was yesterday!” Buses were so rare that Marshwood was visited just twice a week - one bus going to Bridport and the other going to Axminster.

“He liked my sense of humour,” she recalls.

Ruth and the late Ron were married in Marshwood on January 14 in 1941.
They went on to have eight children - four boys and four girls.

Those children, Ron, Pat, Anthony, Roger, Christopher, Suzanna, Maria and Annette, gave Ruth and Ron 24 grandchildren and 29 great-grandchildren. Not just a family, a BIG family!

“We were both adopted and I think that’s why we made such a home together,” said Ruth.

The Moores made their home in Marshwood, achieving many ‘firsts’ in the village.

They were the first to be allocated a council house, in Marshalsea.

“It meant electric lights and running water,” said Ruth. “Before that, we had to fetch water in buckets and cans.”

Ruth and Ron notched up another ‘first’ when they got the first TV in the village.

It was black and white, but was then upgraded to a colour set.
Buying the first colour TV license in the district, they were personally visited by the Postmaster General from Bridport, who claimed he wanted to check their reception!

And, in keeping with her long association with the village school, Ruth went on to become its cook for more than a decade, winning much praise for her menus.

Ruth moved to Ellesdon, Charmouth, 22 years ago, where she quickly became involved in village life.

She still helps out at weekly bingo sessions in the Holland Room.
“I like the whole atmosphere of Charmouth,” she says.

“It’s a friendly place and I’ve enjoyed myself. We all have lovely, fun times.

“Of course, when we came here first the traffic through The Street was terrible. The bypass made a big difference.”

For practically her entire life, Ruth has had a best friend - Joan Dummett. Joan also lived at Marshalsea and worked in the school canteen.

Although Joan now lives in Beaminster, the friends still speak on the phone every day.

“We’ve been friends for 58 years and we’ve never had a crossed word,” says Ruth.

Through no fault of her own, Ruth Moore had a rocky start in life. Thanks to a chance meeting, in a country field, she and her late husband, Ron, went on to create the loving family they both lacked at the start of their lives.

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