Tuesday 16th July 2024  

Quorn House Civil Defence Convalescent Home, WW2

In World War Two Quorn House was loaned to be used as a Civil Defence convalescent home. In December 1941 it was opened by Lord Trent as a rest house for up to 30 traumatised Civil Defence workers including those from the blitz of London and Hull. They came to Quorn House estate to be in the country for some respite after the experiences they had encountered during their work as Fire Fighters, Civil Defence, First Aid workers, etc. It was staffed by Voluntary Aid Detachment (VAD) nurses from the Red Cross and the Order of St Johns. Quorn House was well respected for its work and was visited in January 1944 by the Duchess of Gloucester, the Princess Alice and later that year by Princess Marina, the Duchess of Kent. Quorn House was the home of the Farnham family and in charge (Commandant) was Mrs Lily Nihell Preau, formerly Mrs Farnham, widow of Jack Farnham.

The transcribed article below is from 1942 and was published in the ‘Yorkshire Post and Leeds Mercury’. Bearing in mind the News reporting criteria in place at the time, it provides an interesting insight into wartime life at Quorn House.

The Yorkshire Post and Leeds Mercury.
Thursday, January 29, 1942.

HULL BLITZ WORKERS FIND PEACE
Mansion Becomes Rest Home
From OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT
J. ILLINGWORTH
QUORN (Leicestershire), Wednesday.

It is a large, mellow, Georgian house. Its lofty windows command rolling parkland where pheasants crop and foxes slip by like racing April shadows. A long drive, flanked by tall pines and tunnelled by a brown, rushing stream, wriggles towards it like a delighted, long-tailed dog towards its master. You feel that here is serenity. Hull is long way off. Raymond Peat and Dennis Hudson, who are playing a leisurely game of billiards in the long, bright room that overlooks the gardens, are from Hull. So is Harry Allen, who is struggling over a jigsaw puzzle at the table near the big log fire. They are boys these three, not more than 17 or 18 years old, but they value this serenity like three wise men. Raymond was buried for four hours when a first-aid post was bombed. Harry was struck in the side and foot by shrapnel, and blown off his feet, as he carried a message across a street. And Dennis? He is cheerfully casual. He says, "Oh, I missed everything. When bombs fell, they never fell near me. When my home was bombed, I wasn't in it. When my A.R.P. post was wrecked I was on my way to it. "But he is recovering from an operation, so the Civil Defence Force of Hull sent him here with Raymond and Harry. They are staying a fortnight.

OUT OF THE LINE
This is Quorn House, the home of Major and Mrs. Nihell-Preau. Major Nihell-Preau is serving with his regiment, and his wife has reserved a small part of the century-old house for herself and her children and loaned the remaining rooms to the British Red Cross Society. It has been converted into a rest home for 30 Civil Défense workers. The men or women - and the boys - who fought in the battle of the streets are coming here, out of the line, to rest. The old man who is fast asleep in the deep chair on the other side of the log fire is a warden from the streets of London. He is Alfred Mussett. "I'm 70," he said to me before he fell asleep. "My father was a sergeant-major who fought in the Crimea. He'd six sons, all born in the barracks, all would be soldiers." He sleeps well at Quorn House, his dreams untroubled by the 60 incendiary bombs that made a vivid flash of white flame in his street, for he says that the people who watch over him here are "angels." Quorn House is the home of the Farnhams, who came over with the Conqueror, and dim faces crowned by flowing wigs and set upon strange and rich apparel peer down from panelled walls upon the newcomers. Here is a wall case filled with heirlooms, gloves, watches, a coat extravagantly braided. Over the silvered, sleeping head of Alfred Mussett, two silk-like fans spread their loveliness against the wall, loveliness that once masked fleetingly some 18th Century beauty. Those crossed swords on the other wall, burnished as on the day they were worn, are part of England's history.

LADY OF QUORN
"Mrs. Nihell-Preau is here," someone whispered in my ear, and I awoke from my daydreaming and watched the lady of Quorn House come through the great double doors. They ought to paint her as I saw her in that moment and put her portrait up among the others. The powdered heads of those other centuries will turn their gilt frames to stare. She wore the smart peaked cap and serviceable uniform of the British Red Cross, for she Is a quartermaster, now, in her stately home, responsible for the welfare of the strange, exciting new population. How well she does this job, how richly she deserves all the praise that Alfred Mussett showered on her. I saw from some of the letters she has received from the Civil Defence workers who have enjoyed the serenity of Quorn House since It was opened to its new purpose in December. There was this moving letter from a member of the London AFS: - “I am writing to thank you for the way you and all your staff gave me one of the best Christmases I have ever had. As you know, I am an East of London man, and was reared in the slums, and when it comes to staying at your lovely house and being treated like a gentleman, well I have read of such things, but that was as far I had got. Thank God for people like your family. I have left till last the memory your Christmas dinner. The way your husband spoke made me feel I was one of the family. God bless you all. "Please excuse the writing, and perhaps the spelling."

HONEYMOON COUPLE
Husbands may bring their wives - and wives their husbands - to Quorn House. Indeed, one London A.R.P. worker brought his bride. Here is their letter: - "We wish to thank you once again for the wonderful honeymoon we spent at Quorn House." One woman warden said she had spoken so much to her neighbours about Quorn House that they wanted to come. "The huge joke among them all is the four and half pounds I gained." They all talk about the weight they gain here. Raymond, and Harry, and Dennis, of Hull, talked about it. The food is good and plentiful, in addition to breakfast, lunch, and a high tea at 6.30, they have afternoon tea at four, cocoa and biscuits at nine, and hot milk to put them to sleep at 10.30.

ENTERTAINMENTS
They can play billiards, table tennis, and various other small games, listen to the radio, go for walks in the 100-acre estate, dance each Tuesday at the church room in the village, enjoy the comfort of the local Conservative club, or off into Loughborough - as Raymond, Harry and Dennis did yesterday - to see "Billy the Kid" at the cinema. Quorn House has its own social and whist drive every Thursday, and next Saturday it will have its own cinema performance, too. Mrs. Nihell-Preau has taken some of them into Leicester and shown them the sights. Yes, Hull is a long way off, but when I said to Dennis that he would never want to go back there after Quorn House, he answered: - "why shouldn't we go back? Other people are back there among it all; why shouldn't we be there? Hull Is our home."
Thank God for Quorn House. And thank God for Hull.

Submitted on: 2024-06-02 Submitted by: Dennis Marchant Artefact ID: 2587 Artefact URL: www.quornmuseum.com/display.php?id=2587