Davis and Bernie's Story

From Trinidad and Dublin to The Mounts

Bernadette, Bernie to those who know her, came to Northampton from Dublin when she was twelve years old. More than seventy years later, The Mounts still lives in her memory as a place of old buildings, familiar streets, gatherings, school days, music, dancing and people who looked out for one another.

Davis came from Trinidad in his twenties. He first lived elsewhere in Northampton, then made his life in and around The Mounts. Between them, Bernie and Davis carry memories of migration, family, work, music, hardship and humour — and of a neighbourhood that, for them, was full of life.

Bernie's Arrival in Northampton

Bernie’s family came to Northampton after her father died. He had worked for many years as a ferryman in Dublin and had a long connection with Northampton through the boots made for him there. After losing him, Bernie’s family needed support, and Northampton was a place where relatives and other Irish families had already settled.

She arrived as a schoolgirl and went to St Mary’s School on The Mounts, run by nuns. She remembers playing basketball, the school buildings, the nearby graves of the nuns, and the strictness of school life. When she had had enough of one schoolbook, she amused herself by counting the letters on the page.

For Bernie, The Mounts felt familiar because it had older buildings like the places she had known in Ireland. The Racecourse was close by, the town was within walking distance, and the streets were full of small shops, places to meet, and chances to be part of community life.

The Mounts: Streets, Shops and Parks

Some of Bernie’s strongest memories are of the Racecourse, the old cinema, Lady’s Lane, Newland and the shops on the way into town. She remembers buying homemade sweets from an old lady near where the police station and courthouse stand now. The details that stayed with her were often small ones: the taste of sweets, the shape of buildings, the feeling of walking through streets where everything seemed close at hand.

The Racecourse was especially important. It was a place for football, fairs, church gatherings, barbecues and community events. Bernie remembers that there was always something happening there. For people without much money, these events mattered: they offered music, company, samples, treats and entertainment without needing to travel far.

She also remembers the older men’s shelters in the Racecourse, places where retired men could gather, sit by a fire, talk and stay warm. To Bernie, these small meeting places showed how the park served the whole community, not just children or families..

A Teddy Girl, a Dancer and a Maker

As a young woman, Bernie was a teddy girl. She remembers wearing a white washable jacket, a cowboy hat, a string tie and jeans. When her mother was told about the outfit and gave her money to change the jeans, Bernie came back with yellow ones instead.

Bridge Street was one of the places to be, full of teddy boys and teddy girls. Bernie remembers it as lively rather than threatening. She says their reputation was often worse than the reality: for her, the trouble was more likely to be a crowd blocking a shop doorway than violence.

Dancing and music were part of her life too. In Ireland she had wanted to tap dance and be in shows; in England she learned ballroom and became a good jiver. Later, she used practical skills to earn money at home, altering teddy boys’ trousers and slimming down ties while looking after the children..

Davis Comes to Northampton

Davis came to England from Trinidad when he was twenty-four. His wife went to Brighton to train as a nurse, while Davis found work in Northampton. He later brought his children over and lived in different parts of the town before becoming closely tied to The Mounts.

Davis lived on Bailiff Street before buying a house at number 5. Later, when there was talk of a road being built through that house, Bernie and Davis moved again. Their move was practical, busy and very much a family effort, with children helping to carry furniture up the street.

When Davis first arrived, he felt that people were generally good to him. Bernie remembers that work and everyday life were manageable, though finding somewhere to live could be difficult, especially with some landladies. Even so, The Mounts became, in her words, a good place for people of every nationality.

Music, Pubs and Meeting Each Other

Bernie and Davis both sang in pubs. One remembered place was a small pub near Exeter Place, opposite Clare Street, where there had once been shops along the bottom of the street. Their shared world was one of music, singing, dancing and conversation.

Bernie remembers that Davis noticed she smoked and bought a packet of cigarettes even though he did not smoke himself. It is one of those small gestures that becomes part of a couple’s story: ordinary at the time, but remembered years later with affection and humour.

Davis sang songs that brought memories back. One song included the line “Mary, marry me,” which always made Bernie think of her own full name, Bernadette Mary Anne. Davis also remembered songs in Hindi from Trinidad, songs that connected him to his family background and to the culture he had carried with him.

Community and Belonging

For Bernie, The Mounts was shaped by people as much as buildings. The Irish community gathered around the Cathedral on Barrack Road, where there were cups of tea, dancing and familiar faces. Pubs, churches, clubs and cafés gave people somewhere to meet.

Everyday neighbourliness mattered. Bernie remembers being able to ask someone to watch the children while she went into town, and doing the same for others. Shops were friendly, people talked to each other, and practical help was part of street life.

There was hardship too. Families often had little money, and people made use of what they had. Bernie remembers prams being used to carry coal and sticks from Bailiff Street for the fire. Nearly-new shops, affordable swimming, cheap entertainment and local markets all helped people get by.

What Bernie and Davis Want People to Notice

If Bernie could guide someone through The Mounts, she would tell them to go on foot. She would start at Regents Square, look up at the buildings, turn corners slowly, notice the shapes of the old streets and pay attention to what remains. She believes people miss too much from buses and cars.

She would point out Holy Sepulchre, the old buildings along the route from Barrack Road towards town, the Racecourse, the swimming pool, the old school sites, the cinemas, the pubs and the places where shops once stood. Some have gone, some have changed, but for Bernie they still form a map of memory.

Her wish for the future is simple: stop building over everything, make use of what is already there, and help people see the old buildings and parks that give the area its character. Davis’s memories add music, migration and welcome to that picture. Together, their story shows The Mounts as a place where people arrived, worked, sang, raised children, helped neighbours and made a home.