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Barbara Greenshields, (nee Jupp) born in 1924, tells us of some family history, together with some early memories of her paternal grandparents.
'Recently my Jupp Grandparents' marriage certificate came into my possession, given to me by my youngest brother, Michael, who thought it would be of interest to me. John married Mary Collins at Busbridge, Surrey in August 1893. He was a gardener. Mary's occupation is not given but I know she was in domestic service before her marriage, as were so many young women of her generation. John's father, Alfred's occupation is given as farmer, and Mary's (Thomas) as coachman.
They began married life at Patching, West Sussex, where I understand they met when they were both working for a family whom I think was called Joad. Some years later the Joad's house became a Country Club. John and Mary took up residence in the middle one of France Cottages in France Lane. It was at that time a new cottage, so they probably felt quite privileged. Their first child Hilda (known to me as Nan) was born there on the 27th February 1895.
In October 1897, John's father became tenant of Hangleton Farm, Ferring, where John and his family and one or two other sons joined him, to help run the farm. I have the original valuation of Hangleton Farm. It includes such items as two cows £16-0-0d, two horses £7-0-0d, and a winnowing machine 10s (50p). The total valuation is £110-14s-0d. Due to an outbreak of Swine Fever their time at the farm was short and both families moved to Franklands Cottages (now Jasmine Cottages) Ferring, where my father, Horace Alfred was born on 2nd February 1900.
After moving to one other cottage, John and Mary, Hilda and Horace, went to live at Rose Cottage, Ferring, where they remained for several years, John working as a gardener and carpenter. He was a member of the church choir and the local cricket club and a winner of awards for his vegetables at the local shows.
I understand my grandmother, Mary, was quite a formidable young woman. Her children were 'brought up properly' and had to 'mind their P's and Q's'.
'She wasn't afraid of anything, but pretty nearly everything else was scared stiff of her', was my father's description of his mother. (We weren't afraid of her as children so she must have mellowed a bit by then!). In spite of this I feel sure she had their interests at heart and she was an excellent manager of Grandpa's wages.
Rose Cottage had originally been built as two cottages and there were still two staircases, so from time to time part of the house could be conveniently sublet to swell the family's finances. She was also caretaker of the village school and this additional revenue must have helped to pay for Nan's piano lessons.
When Dad was a toddler Nan took him to the beach and he fell off a breakwater into the sea. In those days little boys wore dresses and petticoats and she told me that his billowed out and kept him afloat until she was able to fish him out again. Grandma was not pleased.
I was quite horrified when Dad told me that when he was about seven, his father had made him a crossbow. 'Well it wasn't around for long' he said, 'I don't think my mother approved, so it had to go'. Grandma's large tray came in useful for sliding down Highdown Hill on the snow.
Dad declined the offer of music lessons - I expect he preferred to be out with his mates. There was a high wall round the grounds of the big house where the Hentys (of Henty & Constable's Brewery) lived, but it offered little protection for their fruit from the Ferring lads. A cut-throat razor tied to a prawn net proved an ingenious and efficient method of scrumping.
'It's the first I've heard of it,' exclaimed Nan when I mentioned these escapades to her. 'Your grandmother would have smacked his bottom if she'd found out'. But Dad took very good care that she didn't. He wasn't always as lucky.
'Like the time I was muttering 'Bugger! 'Bugger'! each time her hand landed on it's target', he reminisced, 'But somehow I got out of sequence and she heard me so I got some extra ones for that'.
There was a scout group at Goring and Dad joined with his friend Reg. He played the piccolo in their band. He couldn't read music but put a sheet of the test paper in front of him, played it by ear and was duly awarded his musicians badge.
The water supply for Rose Cottage came from a well in the garden. Buckets were brought into the kitchen and allowed to stand overnight so that the sediment and, occasionally one or two inhabitants, could be allowed to settle.
During a very wet period the house was flooded and the family had to retreat upstairs. Friends and neighbours brought food which was hauled up through the bedroom window. Grandma would have coped with cleaning up operations with her usual resourcefulness, but what a messy, unpleasant job it must have been.
At about fourteen years old Dad had a gun. He shot rabbits, some for the family pot and some to sell for a few pence for pocket money. It was always his opinion that there was no harm in youngsters having guns, so long as they were taught how to use them properly and did so. His friends had guns and he had never heard of any trouble or accidents. Perhaps the discipline of those days was a deterrent to any misuse or foolhardiness.'
If only it were the same story, with guns today.
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