Mervyn Bowley, of Chester, recalls growing up next to the site of Kendal’s former House of Correction.

WINDERMERE Road at Kendal, from St Thomas’ Church to Queen’s Road, used to be known as House of Correction Hill. Perhaps it still is.

From about 1700 onwards, the corner site between the two roads was occupied by a prison, known as the House of Correction.

Early in the 20th century the prison became redundant and was sold by auction in 1910.

It was purchased by a developer who demolished about half of the building by taking down a vertical slice nearest to Windermere road. He then built a terrace of five houses on the land nearest to the road.

My parents, coming to Kendal in 1914, were the first tenants of one of these houses and I was born there in 1917. The rent in the twenties and thirties was, I recall, twelve guineas (£12.60) a half-year.

We were very close to the rest of the prison, which dominated the scene and was to remain for many years. It was four stories high and open to the elements. One could see the main staircase in the middle of the hulk and into many of the cells if the doors had been left open or removed.

It had a grim fascination for locals and passers-by.

A family of jackdaws established themselves in the rafters and their cawing added to the dawn chorus.

Of course we children played in and around the cells and, looking back I suppose we were lucky not to come to any harm.

A few of the cells and associated buildings were let to traders or as garages and small workshops. I remember in particular an Italian ice-cream maker.

Some of the outbuildings were taken over by a carter with several horses and carts who worked for the then Kendal Borough Council on the highways.

Meanwhile the remaining part of the prison gradually deteriorated. Part collapsed in 1943 or 1944. I was abroad and was glad to learn that no-one was hurt.

Later the rest was taken down and little remains to remind us of Kendal’s huge House of Correction, except here and there a glimpse of a bit of the strong outer wall.

My souvenir of the prison is a ‘spy-hole’ fitted to the door of every cell. A sliding metal device enabled the warders to see in, but the prisoner could not see out.