The Wheelwright’s Apprentice - Arthur Sydney and Lucy Pettifer

Edited by Pamela Keegan

CROPREDY HISTORY 5 - 2001

Dedicated to the Memory of Lucy Pettifer Born 19 February 1910 Died 14 April 1987 

and Arthur Sydney Pettifer Born 23 November 1915 Died 27 January 1991

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Introduction

In the late 1970’s Lucy Pettifer nee Aris visited Monkeytree House. This was some time before Arthur retired. Having once worked in the house for the Kirkby’s she was as pleased as I was to go over the house and discuss her time there.

Lucy Aris first came to Cropredy in 1932 at the age of 22. Her revisit to our home started a long association in which we might have gone on talking forever. Never once on visiting the Pettifers at Cavalier Cottage, Chapel Green was it considered inconvenient. Lucy would say if you come and we’re busy you’ll have to take us as we are.

After Arthur retired he rather took over the conversation! Having been born in Cropredy in 1915 and worked there for many years, Arthur had a great deal to contribute. Lucy would finish her task in hand, perhaps glad of the opportunity to do so, and then take three cups and saucers from the china cupboard under the front living room window, and produce a very welcome cup of tea.

Only once did I use the front door. It was never opened except perhaps on a Sunday. After that if Arthur was not in the garden I wrapped the back door hard with my knuckles to reach over the T.V. Even if Lucy was in the kitchen Arthur answered the door. Come in. Come in. If Lucy answered then Arthur was not at his best. Visits were mainly in the wintertime so the fire would be lit and Arthur tending to it.

Go on in, I’ll just finish this; Lucy would smile and towards the end of my visits add a hug for good measure. Lucy was small in statue, and seemingly determined to be ageless. Certainly she had enough vitality for the pair of them. Most of Lucy’s life had been spent looking after others. How often could she call time her own? Arthur even pressed her into accompanying him to the Historical Society and to helping him when he gave his first talk. Not a word of complaint reached our ears. Besides always seeming to be on the go at home, smiling and laughing, Lucy had time to help her neighbours especially Emily and Tom Bradley next door. When another neighbour wanted to know how much she charged, Lucy replied I do things for friendliness. Giving away her free time as a gift, possibly the key to her whole life.

Lucy had however known hard physical work without complaining, providing she was treated fairly in return. She remembered all too clearly fetching and carrying water, dealing with primitive sanitary arrangements and other tasks in Cropredy and Bourton long after Banbury had progressed to inside plumbing in many households. On the day Lucy showed the History members round Monkeytree she proved a very alert and interesting guide. Lucy created the atmosphere of starkness, which was apparently the situation in the 1930’s in that, house and most likely in many others in the 1930’s depression. Her face was so alive with pleasure that I longed for the evening to continue.

Outside we all examined the coffeepot as Mrs Louis Lambert described it. This was apparently an improvement on the old privy at the end of the garden under the Yew tree. The second privy was made out of part of the stable using brick walls painted yellow and given a red quarry tile floor. The toilet had a wide wooden bench seat with a good round removable lid to place over the hole when not in use. The huge tank had been to the north under the yard, now filled in. Lucy explained how it was emptied and when Arthur arrived he chipped in. On hearing our future home had no bathroom Lucy and Arthur were horrified, but said nothing at the time.

On one of my last visits Arthur led the way to the cupboard under the stairs by the front door. There in the light of its little window were two zinc baths. Lucy explained we both brought one to our late marriage in 1965. In one lay Arthur’s dismantled lathe all wrapped up. In the other the potatoes. The bath was to be cleaned up and the night before we left the treasured possession was carried (under cover of the dark) to join the mound of packed luggage. It was hard to leave but as we did Lucy pressed a little parcel on us. It contained a bath brush, flannel and soap.

Arthur’s family history was very sketchy indeed. Together we checked transcripts of the local registers to find his mothers family. He had a few documents and photographs to help. His maternal relations were craftsmen. On his father’s side skilled hedgers and workmen employed on local farms. The vast amount of oral material has had to be edited down and begins with these searches.

Arthur having retired spent a great deal of time gazing out of the front window in winter. You can see a lot of things from here. He stood by the china cabinet looking across to the High Street cottages where he was born. To Lyndhurst (Dower House) on the corner and the Methodist church, Arthur always called it the chapel, with the row of cottages and Monkeytree House beyond. From the rear living room and parlour windows he overlooked the church tower, the modern vicarage in the old ones former walled vegetable garden (now no longer the vicarage) and the three thatched cottages in Church Lane. Cropredy church being the mother church of a wider ecclesiastical parish at the very tip of Oxfordshire. The market town of Banbury five miles to the south, is also on the river Cherwell and was Lucy’s hometown.

Arthur’s mother a Dunn had collected several photographs into an album. They included the family at Cropredy and Great Bourton. One day as promised Arthur and Lucy helped me take copies of several from the album. Lucy cleared the square dining table under the rear window, and we set up the camera on a stand. Arthur handed them over one by one with a commentary. He sat by the built in pine dresser next to the chimney breast. Lucy used the chair on the other side in front of the silent TV. I was left in the middle but neither Lucy nor I had time to sit. Lucy had it organised very efficiently making lots of little amusing asides. The clock on the sideboard opposite the fire flew round. Usually I tried to limit my visits to an hour. Any longer and it was impossible to recall word for word the new information. Once we did record something and I tested my memory by writing it down before rerunning the tape recorder and apart from some vital Oxfordshire words it could be done, but not ideal. It was very unfortunate that Arthur’s brother Albert had been taped by a school visit without his permission, for it forced the development of enormous concentration and left us with out the joy of hearing Arthur and Lucy on tape, except for Arthur and Albert’s talks when special permission was granted. The problem was highlighted one day. Arthur was explaining how to weld any casting and Lucy was asking is it sugar Mrs Keegan? And again Sorry about the milk round it, you can’t help it when you can’t keep it can you? Meanwhile Arthur totally lost his way and um, and um, fill, up, fill it up until he began again, only then Lucy passed him a cup of tea. Ta! Dear! Shook his head and bounced off the hearth. Blooming lot you’re working over a hot tackle. Does make you sweat. You do your welding… Unfortunately I had  hopelessly lost track and made a terrible blunder Cast iron gates? Arthur exploded Cast Iron Gates. No I’ve never seen a cast iron gate. Not Cast Iron! Some railings and gates have a lot of cast iron, fancy work on the top, but they’re cast onto the bar. Yes. Cast Iron, cheap sort of stuff. If one of those break you’d have a job to weld it back on. Oh yes.

On arrival Lucy sent me in and Arthur talked from the hearth, which he used as a platform, jumping off to underline a word, and backing up as he literally warmed to his subject. If Lucy came in she joined me on the settee set at an angle to the fire, but leaving enough room for a walkway to the hall, stairs and parlour. Apparently 855sg ft for three bedroom non-parlour houses was a generous increase in space and the Pettifers had 1,055sq ft with the addition of a parlour and not including the fuel and other store. John Burnett in his book A Social History of Housing 1815-1970 thought that these post-war Addison Houses were the best of all the interwar houses, with little to complain about. An improvement to have houses designed by an architect. Yet at the turn of the century the Brasenose College had employed an architect to design and replace seven cottages in Cropredy. Arthur though wasn’t interested in my research, he knew the facts and he compared the Chapel Green six houses with the old thatch cottage across the road. Space was not everything. Only later were they made more comfortable. Having started the discussion on houses Arthur’s thoughts on the matter poured out.

Later the subjects under discussion widened and Arthur might cross to the fourth dining chair by the sideboard to consult one of his precious wheelwright and train books or a small collection of papers to illustrate a point. Unfortunately the subjects were often limited due to lack of direction and trying to increase the quantity on others was impossible for Arthur side tracked with speed. This did have advantages though for he came up with many interesting topics, even though they too were often starved of detail. Lucy seldom had a chance to be drawn out. For example once Lucy said they used to have big families in small cottages then. And then nothing else. Sometimes Lucy tells a tale with a different recall from Arthurs, but both softened a harsh comment as many of their generation did. Twice a word he used has changed its meaning, but otherwise I do not interfere with the text. Their opinions or tales may not always be the History Society members or mine, but they were Arthur and Lucy’s. They did not set out to hurt others with their talk.

Arthur insisted that the 1930’s could be very hard on families and Roland Cherry told me that in the 1930’s men came from ten miles or more begging work for 27s a week. Tradesmen earned £2 a week then. Arthur told us Mr Sumner the gaffer was really short of work during the depression. I remember he used to get out his motorbike which he had at that time and ride round the farms to get work. He would ask if they had any carts that wanted mending.

Arthur would have liked a job with a pension. As a lad he had worked willingly to earn money as most boys did, He commented that more people in the village would do work in their spare time in the 1930’s. He also remembered how many children’s families were poor.

Another time he went on about dirt. The village looked a bit rough. He had a horror of it instilled into him as a child. The village roads were still used to drive cattle along, though fortunately the blue brick paths were well above the mire. Yet for all that Cropredy in those days was a little village worth living in because you knew everyone and they knew you. There are not a lot of Cropredy folks left now of the old generation.

Once while Lucy was in the kitchen Arthur told me in a whisper about his first girl friend, not wishing to hurt Lucy. He was not one for messing about the kitchen door at work. Having started going out with Lucy (and they have different memories as to their first date) he waited patiently while first Lucy took care of her parents and then Arthur could not get a cottage in the village. When the Anker Trustees sold the High Street cottage he had to get out or buy it for £400. Mr Sumner’s adviced against it, because of the cost of thatching. He had two in Red Lion Street which cost him more than he had from the rent. Arthur wanted to get married. However their engagement went on for 29 years, until he could rent 3 Chapel Green.

Arthur was always interested in Cropredy and the past. That is why they wished to live there. It is a small village situated in the wide valley of the river Cherwell. Since the railway was opened people moved away to Leamington and on to Birmingham, finding work there if Cropredy or Banbury had nothing to offer. Transport to other towns to the east was not convenient. The Oxfordshire canal brought coal and building materials, lime and slates, but the railway took the milk to London keeping the farms going. Cropredy was always a centre for trade and Arthur and Lucy told me how they were spread around the Green and down Red Lion Street to the canal.

The vestry no longer had charge over the poor and roads after these had moved to other authorities and a Parish Council had come into existence. No landlord dominated Cropredy. Arthur attended church and chapel. The chapel as Arthur said had something on most nights of the week, and for the men in winter there was the village club with a library for everyone.

Arthur looked back on his busy time working in Cropredy. Having nothing to do in the 1980’s he commented that a man who has ever worked in a workshop needs a shed, and later remarked that I am no use at all without something to do, hopeless. Unfortunately his last job that he had to take in Banbury had not been to his liking. Terrible thing hating your job. My last job I hated, Hated. If only he could have put a shed up and crafted things for sale, but it was not allowed under the Rules in his Rent Book. His therapy was creating things, mending and repairing, being inventive and useful. He was a craftsman, one of the last apprentices of the old order. It was partly to deflect his thoughts from being useless that we started to talk about the past. He seemed to have almost total recall. Later a diary was produced which helped him to be accurate, something Arthur was very keen on.

When persuaded to give a talk, he decided to describe the making of a wheel. At once he began to plan it and involved his cousin Connie Hollis. She looked out her father Frank’s photograph album and her own collection of postcards. On the night Arthur could have gone on all evening, but having run through two tapes a halt was suggested. Connie remarked afterwards I felt Arthur went on a little about John Shirley, but then he did very well. I didn’t expect Arthur could have spoken like that. I didn’t know he had it in him. Another said Well he always had to get it right.When later I presented him with a transcript he asked Err how did you get it from the tape to here? To which Lucy couldn’t stop laughing. After a while he too sat down and appreciated Lucy’s and my mirth. Never mind about typing out the transcripts, I’ll write it all down for you from making the hub to the finish. Lucy looked embarrassed. She’ll never read your tiny writing dear. I quickly agreed that would be marvellous, but only a tiny portion of the next talk was written down. He was often very serious, always happier when working on something, and yes he was very particular, wheelwrights had to be. Take that away and he appeared lost.

Sometimes I took round a letter from Mabel Durrant nee Cooknell [Book2], or Colin Shirley. Or I’d mention what Cicely nee Baylis had written which started off a spate of comments. In return I sent word to Mabel, or took their tales to Marie Godson [Book 1], and Gertrude Mold nee Pettifer [Book 3] with their permission and received a different aspect and perhaps attitudes to life as they recalled it. Some weeks the information was over whelming, especially as the word spread and interesting conversations halted the trips to and from the shops or post office. It became a family joke. Better get on you bicycle or you’ll never be back for tea!

Notebooks of material have made it possible to put this together. I just hope no one is offended. After all it was the friendliness and generosity of people in Cropredy who made it possible. Encouraged at the start by Roland Cherry and Dolly Monk whose great interest in Cropredy made it worthwhile researching into the past for information to build on. The Historical Society meetings kept it going brought together by the hospitality of Sue and Martyn Lester. Sue’s encouragement and work to put the book together for sale and the updating of material from Sue Lester and Ray Cherry kept the mind concentrated on Cropredy.

The last word will be with Arthur who had developed a habit of repeating words, pausing and starting again. Pam I am, I am, err I am afraid of dying.

Arthur you are afraid of not being here, of not being missed, we all are.

We have no children. We are the last of the line.

Your book will be yours and Lucy’s memorial. Why else have you been telling me all these things?

He stood there, a handsome sturdy yet gentle man, with a slight smile. He knew so much about creating things yet felt he had not achieved his full potential. A shy man who kept strictly to the old fashioned codes of behaviour. Lucy full of fun and warm encouragement. They would have made wonderful grandparents. It is impossible to do justice to this special Oxfordshire couple.

As I was about to leave after a short visit to Cropredy, the last time I saw him, he showed me a brown paper parcel, carefully tied with string. It contained his diaries, some mementos and the photographs, some unfortunately not copied for the book. They are for you to do the book, and then they must go to Oxfordshire Archives. Unfortunately only the first and last work diaries came to me. The photographs and mementos and one diary were missing which prevented the material being used as Arthur intended.

Two years after leaving Cropredy we heard that Lucy had been ill for three months and then died. Arthur only wrote once or twice so we had no warning and on the next visit missed her greatly. Arthur could not produce the same atmosphere without her. We recalled the enjoyable afternoons adding little to the corrections needed for this book. Even told me quite seriously how he had written a book. When I couldn’t stop laughing he cheered up enough to enjoy the joke. Lucy would have loved it. However he was ill and without Mrs William’s Sunday lunch and patience, topped up with visits from members of the History Society, especially Mary, he said he would have been very lonely. Time came when he had to go into hospital and there he died on January 27^th 1991. This book is dedicated to Lucy and Arthur who by rights are the authors.

Part One with plans, photographs,Who’s Who and Index has been kept separate from Part Two and Three: Arthur and Albert’s talks and their workbooks. 

Pamela Keegan 2001

The High Street Cottages.

The Anker’s row of cottages in the High Street were converted from a sixteenth century stone and thatched house and barn around 1804. The gap between the house and barn was infilled to make a total of eight cottages. Only the four made out of the barn remain.

The Pettifers lived at the south end in number one. There was only one entrance door to the cottage. This was in the south gable end. The others all had a front and rear door. Two brick chimneystacks had been added to provide the four barn cottages with their living room hearths. Their living rooms each had a three light casement window, and their front bedrooms two casement windows all with wooden lintels. The scullery at the back of number one had a small fixed window, a door at the bottom of the newel stairs and a flagstone floor. The rear bedroom was lit by a two light window and was open to the stairs. The south gable window was only made in 1951 (Information from Mr Handley). Number one is now part of number two. Many alterations have been made since Arthur’s family lived there.

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