The Great Storm of 1947
Two weeks before the snow came our school was so cold we were allowed to wear our coats in class. And people were saying “I think we are in for some snow”. How right they were! Little did they know it would last for weeks.
We lived in a 150-year-old Derbyshire cottage, with gas lighting, outside toilet, coal-house, cold-water tap and a black-leaded grate, two and a half bedrooms – accommodation for my parents, Gran and me, nine years old.
We awoke one morning with the snow level with the bedroom sills. I had never seen snow like it. Our cottage was facing open fields on three sides. Work for my father and school for me was out of the question. Downstairs was in darkness, the windows covered in drifts. The wireless was put on to inform us that the whole country was at a standstill. The fire was always banked with wet slack so that was brought to life. We knew we would not get milk and bread delivered. It was only two years since the end of the War and Mom never got out of the habit of “if it’s for sale, buy it, store it”. So we were lucky to have two tins of condensed milk. Our dog Scamp was waiting to go out and my father, not thinking, opened the front door to be met with a wall of snow, and shut the door again quick! The back yard had a nine-foot high wall round it so the drifts were low. This was the way to the toilet and coal-house so my father cleared a path, to inform us the toilet was frozen “but Scamp was OK”.
The rest of the day he spent thawing the pipes with a blow-torch. Mom, Gran and I cut old coats up into strips for lagging. It took my father four days to clear a path round the house and we were happy to have light from the windows and see our neighbours all doing the same thing. We heard that the Council had men clearing the main road through our village, all by hand. Gran had made bread and Mom was a good Yorkshire cook, but supplies were getting low. So I was sent to the Co-Op now a path had been cleared. I returned with flour, jam, marg, condensed milk, potatoes, six eggs, tea, four sausages, liver and a bag of lamb bones, all “on tick” and coupons.
But our main worry was coal which was low. I was wrapped up and set off to find wood with my father, falling in drifts and my wellingtons full of snow. We saw a small tree. My father cleared the snow and we found that we had been walking on the hedge! The small branches were for me to carry in a sack and my father dragged the trunk. Falling in drifts we got home at dusk with me crying with chapped legs and chilblains. I was put in front of our poor fire with a bowl of bread and hot Bovril.
Yes, I remember well that awful storm of 1947 which never seemed to end!
Marian Walsh
Member of Coleorton Heritage Group
March 2026