Chapter 1
1850 Late March – and Easter Sunday Yes, Patience lasted to see Easter. We polished her off for breakfast. We are now without a pig in the family. We shall miss seeing her ham hanging next to the grate. I think they still have her other one hanging next door. Cold wind again this morning. Coming from the north. At least we didn’t get a frost last night. About 8 o’clock a big dog fox walked through the fence. Bold as brass he turned to look at me and the wife and then walked on slowly down along the brook. Bit of a sore head. Quite a session at the Stars. It was good that old Henry Jorden was paying. He said he owed me for helping him quartering his carcasses. One of the young Wallingtons was with him. He was trying to do a deal on some Ludgershall ewes. I am sure the beer was a bit stronger than the Woods used to serve. Henry thought so as well, but he didn’t think it was a patch on the beer he used to sell before he got into butchery. Maycock. That’s the name of the new landlord. Jim and Mary. They have come from somewhere the other side of Bicester. Caulcott, I think somebody said. No one has ever heard of it. Jim’s quite a short chap and doesn’t have much to say. Mary is the lively one and more than makes up for Jim being a bit quiet. Jim kept a nice warm fire going. A lot of people turned up. The parish clerk was in, holding forth. First time I have seen him in the pub. Didn’t seem to be drinking. Perhaps only there to let the vicar know who was drinking late. They were belting out the hymns in the chapel today. Must have been a big congregation. Certainly, more than they had in church. Mind you the chapel get a good few from outside the village. Pleased to see old John Reynolds and Ann in front of their cottage when we set off for St Nick’s. Both were smoking their pipes as we chatted over their gate. They haven't been that good the last few days. Nasty coughs and a touch feverish. A few in the village seem to have the same thing. Margaretta, the vicar’s wife, was in the first left hand pew as usual, close to the Turrells of course. Sitting alongside her was Henry William, clerk to the parish, and his wife Mary. I get on with her alright. It is just him that’s hard work. He gets a bit above himself. Most people seem to think the same way. Those of us who were in the Stars late last night were looking a bit sheepish, worried in case the clerk had given a list of us revellers to the vicar. There was a bit of commotion when the Walker family arrived to take their place in the front. Billy Bottle and his family were occupying the front two pews on the right. Usually the Walkers arrive early to stake their claim. Billy has the bigger farm, but John Walker maintains his family have been in the village for ever, while the Bottles are newcomers from the other side of Bicester. I expect the Walkers will be sleeping in the porch next Saturday night! Some of the ladies, sitting towards the front, were showing off their new clothes for Easter. A few made a point of taking off their topcoats even though it was colder inside the church than out. Most of the women, certainly those sitting down below, had swapped their winter bonnets for their summer ones. A lot the girls had flowers in their hair, along with some of the smaller boys. I expect Tailor John has done well these last few weeks. He was there at the end of the pew. His wife Sarah and their five girls all somehow managing to squeeze in. My wife thought that Sarah and their eldest girl had new dresses, and that the rest were wearing hand-me-downs. We had Psalm 23, as usual for Easter. Always enjoy the first part: ”The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He taketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters”. We got a few looks from below when we got to “he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness”. We realised that those of us with sore heads could have our comeuppance when we got the full blast of Psalm xi. 6. Not your usual Easter message. This Psalm gave us “fire and brimstone raining down upon the wicked”. Anyway, all the front pew turned to look up towards us in the galleries. The high and mighty, most of the farmers sitting in the pews towards the front, and the trades people below the font, didn’t seem to qualify. The vicar’s sermon went on and on today. Enjoyed the tale of Mary Magdalene finding the stone rolled away and the tomb empty. The angels asked, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” Made me think about some of the parishioners inside the church surrounded by a lot more around us in the churchyard. Somehow the vicar meandered his way through and his sermon seemed to depart from the Easter message. Before we knew what was coming, the vicar reckons most of us are on our way to see Beelzebub when our time comes. Well not everyone, mainly those sitting in the galleries, from where he was looking. Finished up with “Jesus Christ is risen to-day, Our triumphant holy day”. Everyone giving their best with the “Alleluyas”. The Horwoods can’t have been in the church today as we didn’t have Ann’s shrill singing coming from below the font. Old William Parrot, as usual singing his “Alleluyas” after everyone else had finished. He is the same with his “Amens” as well. Saw young Thomas Brown outside Manor Farm. He’s not hiring yet, but he thinks Thomas May, newcomer from Arncott to farm Gravel Pits, may have some work. Ditching perhaps, now that the ground is a bit dryer. He said there is a fair bit to be done having taken over from Joseph Brooks. April has arrived – A Monday, and April Fool’s Day I didn’t know we were into April until the evening when I heard that the Parson’s Pet had nearly been April fooled. Young Ann Horwood ran out of her grandparents’ grocery shop shrieking when she saw the parish clerk approaching. She shouted to him “there are mice in the shop and all over the counter!”. Was told he crept into the shop a little sheepishly. He was not amused to be confronted by pink and white sugar mice! I set off at first light, planning on getting to Gravel Pitts for the best chance of being hired. I had cleaned and wrapped my tools the night before. I wanted to make a good impression. A tip my father gave me, as well as his tools, before he passed on. If you look like you might know what you are up to, then there is a better chance of being picked out of the crowd. Word must have got around about the hiring. I caught up with some others when approaching the Toll House. John Abraham, Old Jim and the best part of the Wiggins family. A cold wind blowing across the Common. Kath Busby let us through the gate. She told us that we weren’t the first to go through this morning and that we probably wouldn’t be the last. We didn’t stride out. We let Old Jim set the pace. We are all desperate for the work after the wet winter but it’s never the thing to walk ahead of your neighbours. Jim can’t be far off four score years and has trouble walking. He gets out of puff going uphill. He likes to stop every now and then to tell us tales of Piddington when he was a lad. Me and Mary knew he was just trying to catch his breath. He says that everything has changed since he was a boy. He reckons that folk are in too much of a hurry these days. As we dropped down the hill towards Gravel Pits, we could see a gathering in the farmyard and two men walking across the field from Boarstall direction. One of them was carrying a long spade over his shoulder. It wasn’t long before Mr May came out. He stood on the milk stand to get a good view. Quite a bit of pushing from some to be noticed at the front. I had been standing to one side and made a play of sharpening both my long-handled spade and my short pointy one. We were told that there was some ditching work to be had in the middle field, and perhaps when it gets a bit dryer, in the bottom field. I saw Bill Elliot there with his two young lads. Both boys were trying to stand as tall as they could. The youngest one, John I think, can’t be more than a ten-year-old. I was lucky to be taken on. Ten of us in total. Just for the week but very happy with that. There must have been a dozen that missed out, including Old Jim, young William Kirby and the youngest Elliott. Picked up a bird’s wing when on my way back down the Common. A crow’s perhaps. The wife was pleased. The old wing duster has seen better days and now can be kept for the hearth. Next Day – Friday Should get paid tomorrow. It has been good to be back to work, although it has been a cold week. Feels like spring when the sun gets on your back. Beans haven’t grown at all this week. Old John, the opposite side of the brook, hasn’t seen his beans come through yet. He reckons that they could be growing downwards, on their way to Van Diemen's Land. He thought they might be appreciated by the poachers who were sent there at the Oxford quarter sessions. From Tuesday onwards we worked in three groups of three at Gravel Pits. On Monday evening young Moses Blake was told not to come back after he was spotted by Tom Beckley. He should have known better than larking about with one of the Boarstall girls. Tom, one of the farm servants at Gravel Pits, probably regarded Moses as a bit of a rival for her affections. Mary left work early one day for the burial of son. She promised to make up the time later. She goes to visit young Caleb in the churchyard most evenings, along with Caleb’s little cousins, Elizabeth and Solomon. There has always been some speculation in the village as to who Caleb's father may have been. I expect the butcher’s wife will have found out if any contenders were standing close to the grave . The wife said that jackdaws were dropping sticks down the chimney this morning. We haven’t been bothered by their nesting for a few years. A blazing fire this evening should give them something to think about. Sources & Inspirations People and dates: from 1851 census and parish burial records. Young John Wallington may not have been in the village in the Stars that night. He did however have a very close relationship with Old Henry as you will read in later chapters. Wing duster: Gwith Cottage - finding one in the old inglenook with domed bread oven that we discovered in the early ‘80s. We bashed down an old wall in the kitchen after supper. Well, I started during supper, suddenly realizing there was a difference of at least three feet between internal and external dimensions Poachers and Van Diemen’s Land: My study of Australasian economic and social history. Yes, there is some! Van Diemen’s Land – I checked that I was right to use that term in 1850, not named Tasmania until 1856 Jackdaws and sticks in the chimney: Gwith Cottage, corresponding day of the week 2020. Didn’t wait until the evening. Singed their tail feathers in the morning. So far, yet to return! Weather, blossom, seeds, vegetables, dog fox: all Gwith Cottage, corresponding day of the week 2020 Author's Notes This diary is based upon real events in 1850. A few days after I wrote and released the Prologue, I decided to follow the calendar of 1850. While the Prologue was written in “late March - Wednesday”, switching to precise dates in March in Chapter 1 created one problem that haunts me. I wish I had double checked my facts at the time. That Wednesday, I established was the 27th March. William Parrott couldn’t have shown the diarist Young Caleb’s coffin on that day. He had been buried three days previously. I had written most of the diary recounting the Sunday church service, fire & brimstone etc., before checking the church calendar for 1850. I found that the last day in March 1850 was Easter Sunday! I then decided that I had better add in the “new clothes for Easter” and an appropriate Psalm and hymn! I have also drawn inspiration from real events in Piddington as they happen now, and also by the day of the week: the weather, the big dog fox, the beans, the jackdaws. The events surrounding the jackdaws nesting isn’t entirely true. We lit the fire in the morning. We decided best not to wait for the nest to become too big! The wing duster is based on finding one in Gwith Cottage. We discovered an old inglenook fireplace and bread oven behind a wall in our kitchen. Some of you in the village will know the inspiration for the sugar mice. I did check, they could well have been around in England in the middle of the 19th century. Traditionally they were made at Christmas by children as gifts for their parents. I must apologise for bringing in too many characters this early in the diary. You may have found it difficult to keep them all in your mind. This is something I get frustrated by when I start to read a new book. I have been keen to introduce you to some fascinating people, some of whom I feel I have known for many years. You are new to the Piddington of 1850. Go out of your way to find out about your new neighbours! Have a look at the CHARACTERS section on the website. This might help. I will try not to overload you with too many new characters in Chapter 2. I have no immediate plans to go racing off into the future, even though there are some interesting tales ahead. I plan to use the next few chapters to allow you to get to know the characters and the ways of the village. With this release I had hoped to include a section PLACES. People will be asking "..and where did they live? I had started to write up a page describing how, in many cases, it is difficult to answer this question and what assumptions we would have to make. This got to several pages before I decided it was very boring and then binned it! Maybe next week? And a more constructive approach: What we can do, rather than what we can't! David Cook 4th April 2020 |