The Harding Family of Hambrook

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Story and photographs sent in by Sue Hale, great-granddaughter of Herbert and Emily Harding.

Thanks Sue.


I have traced the Harding family back to pre 1757.


David Harding of Main street, Marshfield (1847-1934) married Annie Witchell of  Henbury (1849-1927) in 1870. They lived at Hambrook Cottage (this was later knocked down to build the motorway). David was an agricultural labourer


They had 11 children, 6 of which sadly died  in infancy. Their son Herbert (1875-1964) is my Great Grandfather. He married Emily Pearce (1879-1955) daughter of John Pearce of Winterbourne and Elizabeth Taylor of Stapleton in 1900.


Herbert and Emily had  6 children Herbert, Elizabeth, Stanley, Henry, Doris (my Grandmother who married Charlie Dando from Ram hill) ) and Winifred.


Elizabeth married Henry Hartnell from Winterbourne and worked at Winterbourne house.


Herbert and Emily lived at the top of Swan Lane, Winterbourne. Stanley married Gladys Watson and they lived next door.


During WW2 Elizabeth's son, who was living in Liverpool, moved in with Herbert and Emily and  loved Winterbourne so much he never went home. He remembers photographs of  David in the house which were sadly destroyed after Herbert died but says that David had a huge white beard!














































Emily Harding (nee Pearce) outside house c1950.























Herbert Charles Harding (1875-1964)

outside the house at top of Swan Lane, Winterbourne.


Date unknown c1955?


Left to right Herbert Harding b 1910; Elizabeth Pearce (1836-1916); Winifred Sarah b1902; Emily Harding (nee Pearce 1879-1955); Elizabeth Ethel b1901.


Photo c1913? outside Swan Lane house.

Mum remembers Emily being a lovely gentle hardworking lady and Herbert her Grandfather expecting a meal ready on the table at the given time and a cup of tea on demand!

My Uncle told me an amusing story regarding Herbert John Harding 1910-1968 ( A son of Herbert Harding and Emily Pearce) Which I wrote about so the family story does not get lost over time.

Sue Hale


In the Home Guards was Uncle Herbie.
An old Farmer type. Strong and sturdy.
Orders were given, a tunnel to guard,
Near to the Wickwar Brewery yard.

The men stood watchful and had a fright,
American soldiers appeared, with faces as black as the night.
Disgruntled they were, pubs would not let them in.
The Landlords wary of them due to their colour of Skin.

Now Herbie felt sorry they could not get a drink.
So he scratched his head and began to think.
Slithering down the embankment to the Brewers yard,
He broke in the back door, a naughty Home Guard.

A firkin he grabbed, full of cider,
took it back to the soldiers ‘Get that inside yer’
Such a drink they had never tasted,
They drank it fast and soon became wasted.

Voices grew louder, there was raucous laughter,
They fired their guns in the air not long after.
The shots in the night were heard by the people.
Who called the army, of Germans they were fearful.

On arrival they saw the drunken soldiers,
and looked at the Home Guard the sensible olders.
Herbie said nothing and kept his goodwill.
For the empty firkin he had rolled back down the hill!



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