Chapter 6 1851, the first week of May Sunday A touch of rain overnight. Wasn’t expecting that after yesterday. Had hoped to get amongst the vegetables before anyone saw me. Word would soon reach the vicarage of folk working or whistling or smiling on a Sunday. Nice to be back in the Stars last night. Mary Ann had me old tankard filled and ready before I got to the bar. Old Henry slapped me on the back and told Half Cock to put it on his tab. He seems to be more at home in the Stars than he is in the butchers’ shop. The word from the Manor Farm is that the Browns are “taking rooms” in London. No one in the pub could understand that, or where they were likely to take them from. Old Jim and Old Topsy were sat at the bar, entertaining everyone with their advice on choosing wives and trying to outdo one another in their braggings. They seemed to be of one mind, that if you can’t find someone that takes your fancy inside the parish, you would find a better choice in Ludgershall than you would in Arncott. Old Jim said that, just to be on the safe side, it is worth having a good look at their mothers first. He said that it is wise to think ahead and consider waking up first thing in the morning and finding them lying next to you. This set a fair few of the younger lads a thinking and scratching their heads. The Stars went quiet for several minutes. Old Topsy was the first to break the silence by telling everyone that Old Jim, at the age of sixty-five he had to walk as far as Witney to find a young maid daft enough to marry him. Old Jim said there is a bit more of a tale to tell about that, but he would need his jug topping up a few more times before he would say any more on the subject. Young Tom Gibbons was sat in the corner. As usual he was sat on his own, his mind elsewhere. He is a bit of a loner really, except for when he gets to the telling post and likes the kids to gather round. Last night he was humming a bit of a tune and threatening to play his violin. He was talking to himself about “yesterday”, “his troubles”, “far away” and “suddenly being half a man.” Jim “Half Cock” Maycock was all for throwing him out, thinking that Tom was having a go at him. He is getting fed up with everyone going on about his height. Monday Nice and bright this morning. Found a gnawed bone by the privy. Not sure what’s been going on during the night. The wife thought a fox may have left it. She wasn’t so keen on my suggestion of putting it in the pot. Quite a commotion this afternoon when both the Lower End and the Up-Town gangs went down to the Walkers’ rick yard. Word had gotten round that their big rick was near on finished. All of the boys and most of the girls do like the ratting. I saw the young Turveys return with their flat ratting sticks. They returned the little white ratting dog to the bakehouse. Matilda said that it was the best dog today. Caught a dozen rats on its own before the other dogs knew which way to turn. I heard later that one of the Up-Town dogs got mistaken for a rat in all the excitement and got bashed on the head. Someone gave it a ducking in the brook and it soon perked up. Tuesday Nice bright start to the day but a bit chilly. Called first thing at Old Jim’s in good time to help with his late lambing. His young wife Sarah had little Jesse clinging to her leg, half hiding in her apron. He has grown a fair bit. Stands as tall as Sarah’s growing belly. She said that Old Jim, even she calls him Old Jim, hardly ever gets up ‘till late, despite him saying about the responsibilities he has as the village squire. I decided to give him a while to emerge. Spent a while in the Parrotts’ yard. Chatted a bit with Sarah at the shop next door. Her mother Phoebe arrived from the butchers opposite. I don’t think she was wanting to buy anything at the Sulstan’s. She was more interested in her and Old Henry’s two young grandsons. Both Freddy and little John were among the wood shavings and getting in the way of Old William. He was trying to shape the spokes for two new wheels for the Sulstan cart. William told me that Richard had two spokes crack on one wheel when coming back from Bicester last Friday, just past Wretchwick. The other wheel wasn’t up to much and would have probably gone soon. I was pleased to have a chat with Old William. He was keen to get off his shave horse and stretch his back and his legs. Little John Sulstan made a grab for William’s spoke shave and ran back into the grocers’ shop. Old William laughed. He said if any tools go missing in the yard, he has a word with little John’s mother, and she retrieves them from under his bed. Can’t be more than a five-year-old and recons to be a wheelwright when he has done a bit o’ growing. William likes to talk about the times when he was a lad back in Launton. He told me that he came to Piddington with his dad Joseph and his mother Mary. He said that Joseph was the first Parrot to be a wheelwright in Piddington. And that his grandad, Peter Parrot was a smithy and wheelwright back in Launton for donkeys’ years. He said there is a lot more he could tell me about his dad and his marriages, but some things are perhaps best left alone. He told me that another Joseph, his eldest son, never moved with them to Piddington. I had never met Joseph. William counted with his fingers and then reckoned that he would be about the same age as me. He said that Joseph stayed in Launton and set up his own wheelwrights, a good woodworker mind. Old William reckoned that he taught him a thing or two as he was prepared to listen. He said that he lives in Aylesbury now. His own business, top of Buckingham Road. A real townie! Still making and mending wheels. A good woodworker. Has ideas on becoming a coach builder. He has got that young lad Zacharias working for him as an apprentice. You know, he said, Young Zach, from Arncott, used to keep badgering me around the yard. He said that their Mary keeps in touch with Joseph, back and forth with that carrier from Aylesbury. She tells me that Young Joseph reckons you have to move with the times. He got married to a Londoner, six kids already and the eldest two go to a school. Fancy that! Old Jim finally appeared and started to get on at me for standing about talking when there was his flock to attend to! Just before we got to the church Old Zachary came out of his cottage and, with nothing special on, decided to join us. I showed him the little blue egg. He said it was a starling’s, a stinker’s! We set off between Little Headly and Great Headly and then into Banky. Old Jim was already a puffing and decided we had better stop a bit to gather our wits about us before attacking the slope. Old Zach was rabbiting on about the chaffinches, the chiffchaffs and the different whitethroats. I told him that I couldn’t hear a thing. Mind you, I had to remind him that he is the last one in the village to hear the cuckoo this year. Old Jim was doing some remembering about the time he used to come up here to look over the estate with his dad, Old Jim. His dad used to tell him of the time when there were very few of the hedges you can see today. He described the old “in common” being much bigger than today’s patch of common. He waved his arms to show it stretching from the edge of the village up towards Muzzle and in the direction of the wood. He told the tale of growing up as an only child. His mother Rachel told him, at the age of five, about his brother John who didn’t make it to the font. This was the time his little sister Martha died three weeks old. He said that he can’t remember these things ever getting talked about at home. He said it was just the same when he and his first wife Mary, lost their tiny Robert after just eight days. Mind you he said, there wasn’t much time to talk back then with another eight littlens running about. He was proud to show us his farm just through Banky top gate. A very peaceful spot although a bit exposed to a Muzzle wind. It must be about an acre, all in. You could see it was much bigger in Old Jim’s eyes. Two of the three ewes were down against the hedge. The other ewe was close to Deep Pond with her two lambs. A new-born lamb was in a bad way. We found that one of the ewes by the hedge didn’t stir as we approached. It was dead but couldn’t have been dead long. The other ewe wasn’t interested in the new-born. We couldn’t fathom it out until Old Zach found a dead lamb further up the hedge. We tried to get the odd ewe to take the new-born but she wasn’t for having it. Old Jim set about making a jerkin from the dead lamb. You could tell he had done many of them in his time. The odd ewe took to the new-born lamb right as rain with its new jerkin on. Looked a sorry sight but both lamb and ewe seemed happy enough. Jim thought things could have been worse. He said he started this Spring with his flock of three ewes and now he has two ewes and three lambs. He thought he may soon have to look for extra pasture. Old Jim thought he would just sit down for a while and watch over his flock. Old Zach was all for sitting down as well as he was all for a bit of bird listening. I left both of them trying to decide what to do with the dead lamb and the dead ewe. Neither of them were for burying them on account of them only being a little bit dead. Jim was for butchering them himself. Zachary wondered if old Henry might be interested in having them hanging up in his shop. I could see that this discussion could take some time. Wednesday Big old moon was tethered high up above Chilling Place last night. Really clear sky. Was expecting frost first thing. The wife said there was frost and that I would have seen it had I got out of bed a decent time. Can’t see that anything has taken harm, frost or no frost. A lot of the bigger kids have now taken to taking off in gangs early in the morning a birds nesting. Most of them know not to take them all. Always leave two, I remember me dad telling me. Otherwise there may not be any birds the next year. The biggest prize for the kids is finding the lapwing eggs. They know that Thomas Brown at Manor Farm and his mother Ann will pay a fair bit for them for their breakfasts. None of the kids let on if the eggs are taken from the Browns’ fields Later on, I saw the Turvey boys with their hats full of eggs going in to Harwoods the Grocers. Moorhens’ and coots’ mainly. Just a few mallards’ eggs. We got delivery from the Elizabeth and Matilda Turvey by way of a thank you. Mainly little eggs. It takes a lot of blackbird and thrush eggs to fill a pan. The wife spent this afternoon with Old Sarah Parrot. She has been very kind this last year, talking about how she tried to cope with her first daughter’s death. Seven years now, she told her. Although it still seems like yesterday. Has to be seven years because young Jane was just a two-year-old and is nine now. Old Sarah has her regrets. She thinks if Maria and William had settled here rather than Brill, she could have been with her at the end. She told her that perhaps she could have helped, perhaps not. At the very least she could have done the laying out. Old Sarah always makes the best of things. She says that it has been wonderful to have her granddaughter growing up with her, especially when young Clara comes to play, and she has the two of them together. The whole Parrott family are getting excited about the wedding coming up soon. Young Sarah is excited, not only about getting married to Young John Hillsden but also about working at the Ludgershall smithy. Old Sarah says that Sarah seems to be spending every evening up by the church with John’s brother’s family. She isn’t so keen on having her daughter living far away in Ludgershall. Heard this evening from Old Henry that Michael Griffin at Corball might have some work needs doing. Better get over there first thing. Thursday Another nice bright morning. Something has been a nibbling at the goosegog bushes. Maybe some of the seedlings as well. I got a good set off for Corball. Decided to go up the track rather than across the fields. Never worked at Corball before, although I can remember the land from when I was a youngster. Wanted to make a good impression when I walked into their yard. Kath Busby let me through the gate and wanted to know if I had any news from the village. It seemed to me that she knew a lot more than I did. I started along Corball track. I looked up towards the top of Muzzle and could make out the two springs that fed the brook. There were older lambs in Paddock and younger ones in Spring Ground. Michael was in the yard. Bill Elliot and his son Jim were there as well. It seems that I was a bit late. The two of them were taken on yesterday to work until the end of the week. I will have to have a word with Old Henry. It would seem that he isn’t always the first to hear of work to be had in the village. It was a nice walk back down to the village. I decided to follow West Brook all the way down rather than go back along the track. You could clearly see where the brook chose to go all the way from Corball to Manor Farm. A long line of different willows and alders coming into flower. I kept to the right of the brook. There were sucklers out on Pasture Head, the other side of the willows. I walked through the copse between Big Pasture and Little Hill. It was peaceful there. I stopped a while. The brook didn’t have much of a flow. Not like we had in the winter. Even I could hear the willow warblers. A little wren was for popping about. As I approached the village, I set about wondering how many folk have followed this line before me and also if my children and their children will follow after me. I set the guinea fowls off as I came past Manor Farm. An unusual moon tonight. A big bright rose coloured one. Must mean something is about to happen. Friday Saw Old Jim Parker first thing, heading off to tend the rest of his estate down Ludgershall track allotments. He had his old barrow full of every implement imaginable. Hoes, rakes, long handled scythe, short one as well, dibber and mattock. The old barrow is heavy when it is empty. God knows what it was like to push with all his tools aboard. He made a point of stopping every time he met someone. We all know he is fond of showing folk his old tool collection. More often or not you will see him coming back home for the one tool he forgot to put in the barrow. Old Henry came round to look at the weaners. We decided that they are getting to grow a bit now. He told me that the farmers are all talking about the rook shoot. Should be May 11th always was always will be. Most of the farmers plan their work around it. Problem is, he told me, this year it lands on a Sunday. Some of the farmers down Cowleys reckon the vicar won’t be able to hear the shots. Others reckon that the Parson’s Pet will find out somehow. Anyhow the rook shoot is all set for Monday. He said that the Brown family are all due back home tomorrow and he should be able to find out what they have been up to at the Stars tomorrow night. Sources and Inspirations Graham Burchell's map where he has noted the old field names from the 1847 map. His casual comment about the very small field, intriguingly marked "Jim Parker's Acre" which has led to a lot of research into Old Jim and Even Older Jim and their families. Plus, of course, the late lambing expedition. Old Jim’s wives and family all correct. Jim married his second wife Sarah at North Leigh 10th November 1839. She was 26 years old. Jim, a sprightly 63-year-old. I have found nothing in their families’ histories to suggest how they could have met. The ratting: Cynthia’s recollections of events at her parents’ farm in the Lake District, including the dog that got bashed on the head! The best dog! “Mighty Moses” Whitehead Late lambing: My recollections of helping with the lambing at Cynthia’s parents’ farm. I haven’t made a jerkin myself but have helped fit them. Henry’s butcher shop and the Sulstans’ shop locations confirmed this week Little John Sulstan’s ambitions to become a wheelwright will be realised. William Parrott’s eldest son, Joseph, went on to become a successful coachbuilder in Aylesbury. He was followed by his son John and John’s son Earnest. Both were coachbuilders working on the Bicester Road, Aylesbury in 1911. Gathering birds’ eggs and eating them for breakfast: Old Zach, his granny and stories from old gamekeepers that he has met. Walking back from Corball Farm: the two springs, the line of trees following West Brook, the copse: 1880 map Parish of Piddington viewed online. The map clearly shows this line of trees and many more trees on the lower slopes of Muzzle Field Names: Graham’s map described above. Ludgershall track allotments: One of the late 19th century maps viewed online Weather, goosegog bushes, moons, gnawed bones, blue egg, Old Zach’s bird listening: Piddington, the same week in 2020 Author's Notes A time to reflect Some great breakthroughs this week in understanding Piddington 170 years ago. I have been taken aback by the enthusiasm that many in the village have shown for this voyage into the past. The pace at which our knowledge of the village’s history is growing has created problems of its own. Nice problems to have but I feel they do need to be addressed. When I started “Close to the Brook” just a few weeks ago I had no idea where it would lead and was fairly comfortable with that. The commitment to a new chapter of the diary every week was always going to be challenging. In “lock down”, I thought it would be an interesting and useful way of keeping busy while I waited for the grass to grow. The diary, however, is just the tip of a very large iceberg. This iceberg is growing and growing quickly. I now have so many leads to follow that I believe it is time to focus less on the diary and more on the research. I also need to explore different ways of communicating the results of this research in “Close to the Brook”. Hopefully, we are not that far away from when this could be in the village hall and a number of us could share the story telling. I can recall a time in Brill 50 years ago when an “old codger”, almost certainly younger than I am now, went around the village asking about “the old times”. He was a playwright and devoted many hours to chatting in the Red Lion. He would ask to see house deeds and search for old maps. At that time, many in Brill were worried about someone outside the family seeing their 100-year-old deeds. (I am pleased that this is not the case for most in Piddington today!) His task was to understand the history of a small part of Brill where he lived and properties surrounding the village green. He worked on this for many years. He must have established a great deal about the 18th and 19th centuries. He died before telling anyone what he had learnt. There is a lesson here! I feel that you don’t need to hear me rattling on about late lambing, hedge laying and maypole dancing. The diary will continue on a less regular basis and will focus on more significant events. There are a lot of them to come. The diarist will be undergoing a career change. Perhaps someone who ambles aimlessly around the village, with more time to chat to different neighbours during the day. Don’t worry, I have plenty of role models! Then the diarist will be freed from days spent raking and stooking and looking for work. I will try to update “Authors Notes” every week which will advise of progress on research and new content. I know there are some very avid readers in the village and further afield; probably an equal number who are one or two weeks behind and others who are far too busy or who are just not interested. Close to the Brook will be there for people to discover and explore in their own good time. A time for me to take Old Jim’s advice, slow down a bit, enjoy conversations in the village, continue the research and tackle a few tasks around the estate. Some of the events this week I took quite a broadside learning that Old William Parrott’s father Joseph had three wives. Followed up by discovering that in 1851 William has a stepmother living in the village who is 14 years younger than him! Belatedly, I found out that William had undertaken major work in the church while I skipped from 1850 to 1851. How do I cope with this in the diary? Old William: “Oh, by the way, I forget to tell you….” Discovering that the 7-year-old “Visitor” to the Parrott’s was in fact their 9-year-old granddaughter and that her mother died in Brill when she was two years old. The newly discovered pub, butchers and shop: See section under “The Village”. Remember that the pub was previously a shop. The building was quite large and may have comprised two or three dwellings. I have some clues to pursue that another retail operation may have continued alongside the pub and the butcher’s shop. Further leads on the change of ownership and use of Gwith Cottage around 1800. Discovering Old Henry’s siblings. A wonderful walk up to Jim Parker’s Acre with Old Zach, finding ponds and the best spots for the ewes to take shelter. Old Zach rattling on about different birds. Him mistaking Cooper’s barking from the village for a cuckoo! Tales of rook shoots, birds nesting and making omelettes from birds’ eggs. Discussions with Graham Burchell about whether Old Jim would have buried the dead ewe and lamb, taken them home and put them in the pot or have taken them back to the butchers. Using Graham’s map where he has noted the old field names from the 1847 map. Discovering Middle Brook and tales of it passing under and through houses. Discovering Mandy Bayliss (another Piddington Tunneller), her family’s enthusiasm for village history and the tales she can tell. The true location of the toll gate, just below the crossroads, not where I had it at Piddington Gate farm. Much, much more to come. Hazel’s enthusiastic assistance with a scene to be described in the diary before too long. Discussions with Derek Joy about upcoming horse scenes. Plus, many other conversations with Young Michael and others in the village or leaning over the gate. I understand that this part of the village is now known as “Speakers Corner” And Saturday morning: Wotcher Mate! Most notable birds heard when we were down at Ol’ Jim Parker’s Acre: Chaffinch Wren Blackcap Common Whitethroat Lesser Whitethroat Chiff Chaff Willow Warbler Maybe see you in “The Stars” later. Zac David Cook 10th May 2020 |