This article was published in the West Sussex Gazette on July 5th 2001.

The following fascinating revelations were sent in by Mrs Ethel Batchelor of Upper Beeding.

I am 90 years of age, so web sites are not in my province. Changing from £.s.d. and feet and inches was a mountain to climb.

I wondered if you were familiar with the term 'Tin Potting'. Going back in my memory to about seven years of age (c 1918) I witnessed this.

In the village of Wick, near Littlehampton, where my parents and I lived, there was a lady who it was reputed was very unkind to her daughter-in-law and grandchild. The local people showed their anger at this, by 'Tin Potting' her.

One summer evening they all collected together in her road, and marched up and down outside of her house, banging on saucepans, frying pans etc. with their rolling pins. This went on for some time and then they burned an effigy of her on a piece of waste ground.

It ended when the police intervened. and the same thing happened in a nearby town. I do not remember the cause but could hear the noise in our village.

I think am right that Charles Dickens mentioned 'Tin Potting' in one of his books. I believe it was Oliver Twist.

I purposely did not mention the name of the lady involved with the 'Tin Potting' at Wick because she had nine sons, four were younger than myself and may still be alive.

I lived in Wick with my parents. I was an only child and my father was a policeman in Wick for eleven years.

I was educated at Wick School which was a Church School at that time. Every week we went to Shepherds Picture Palace which was opposite Littlehampton Station. Silent films of course, and Mrs. Shepherd accompanied them, playing the piano.

They ran serials every week and I used to sit enthralled at the adventures of 'Pearl White', each episode ending with a cliff hanger, and could hardly contain myself until the next week.

We always walked to and fro from Wick, no buses in those days.

Another cause of excitement was the Littlehampton Fair. Surrey Street was always closed for it. The convoy of caravans, side shows, round-abouts etc. had to form up in Wick before they were allowed into Littlehampton. My policeman father had to get them in order and escort them into Littlehampton.

How I enjoyed the round-abouts, with their magnificent horses and ostriches and lovely organ music. The swings I did not care for much for -- had to ride in them though, as my mother enjoyed those!

My memories are so clear of the past I could write a book. My single name was Hutchinson but doubt if anyone remains living in Wick now who remembers me and my parents.

This article was published in the West Sussex Gazette on July 5th 2001.