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Harry North Barnatt

1881-1997

One of Bourne's characters from past times, a man who could turn his hand to anything, was Harry North Barnatt who always working and making money and known to practically everyone.

He was born in 1884, son of Robert Barnatt, tenant of Wherry's Mill, and his wife Sarah, and after school he began a life of various employment, working mainly as a carting contractor in those days before the motor car ruled our roads. He served as a sapper with the Royal Engineers during the Great War of 1914-18, surviving the horrendous battle conditions in the fields of Flanders, and after the armistice returned to Bourne.

He loved horses, ever since he was a boy, saving up his pocket money to buy his own pony, and in later years kept several in the paddock behind his home at Barnatt House, No 75 West Road, Bourne. The last of them was Joey, pictured above with Harry, frequently visited by the children of the neighbourhood who called him Uncle Harry.

His wife, Florence May (née Jarvis, born 1883) died in 1969, and afterwards Mr Barnatt lived alone, spending his final years tending his garden and his rabbits with his daughter, Mrs Kathleen Rodgers (1909-1994), attending to the housekeeping, but still a familiar figure riding his cycle around town and always attending the weekly Thursday market to meet old friends.

Mr Barnatt died a reasonably wealthy man in 1977, aged 93, and left the small fortune he had amassed through prudence and frugality to his family. A mark of the affection in which he was regarded came in June 1972 when Deran Perrett-Cole, aged 9, once neighbour of Mr Barnatt, wrote to the local newspaper asking them to publish a picture to mark his 91st birthday with his pony Joey (above).

"She and her young brother Adrian were firm friends of my father and saw him most days when returning home from school", explained Mrs Rodgers. "They moved away to Huntingdon about a year ago but still sent him letters, photos and drawings. He was absolutely delighted with their kind thoughts and loved the photograph that appeared in the newspaper the following Friday."

MY CHILDHOOD MEMORIES ARE OF BOURNE

In the late 1950s, it was my pleasure on Thursday mornings during the summer holidays to visit the pig market, actually the cattle market, where all manner of livestock were auctioned. With one or more siblings, it was a great thrill to wander about the empty pens and gangways, then get in the way as cattle or pigs were driven towards us so that we had to flee. Our shrieks increased the din of the squeals, bellows and clatter of the poor animals. Being the leader of the gang, I must have been a great nuisance, but with only the odd "Mind out of the way, duck", drovers and farmers alike were very forbearing. Except for Snitch. His real name was Harry and he was a crusty old chap who swilled out the cattle wagons and pig trailers, and we used to aggravate him until he snarled and turned the hose on us. He was something of a character and years later he was to become, by marriage, my great uncle. He drove a horse and cart and owned a smallholding where he stored all the clutter he somehow mustered. His house was built alongside a disputed right of way to the Klondyke piggery belonging to T W Mays and Sons and he regularly barricaded the road so that lorries could not pass. My husband, who worked for Mays, was sent to negotiate with his great uncle but to no avail. Although he lived in ramshackle conditions, old Uncle Harry was actually a man of means. - from Lincolnshire Within Living Memory, compiled by the Federations of Women's Institutes from notes sent in by members, published 1995.