FREDA (MORSE) PHIPPS ... LIFE AT STONE COTTAGE, YORKLEY

 

 

(Although Freda Morse was the grandaughter of Matilda Phipps, she married Rennie Phipps who died in 1972. Unfortunately, it has not been possible to find any further information about Rennie so it is uncertain if he is connected to our Phipps family in any way)

 

Freda Phipps, the grandaughter of Matilda Phipps and Fredrick Morse, wrote about her life at Stone Cottage, Yorkley. Although it is possible to download the article from the Forest of Dean Family History website, I felt it was good to place a copy here. I understand that a few years ago Freda was in a nursing home, suffering from dementia. However,I feel sure that Freda would be happy for me to do so and I believe that her story deserves reading.

 

 

 

Early days at Stone Cottage, Yorkley, Gloucestershire

 

by Freda Phipps (nee Morse)

 

As I have now passed my eightieth birthday, have lived at Stone Cottage all my life, and expect to be the last of the Morses to live here, I thought I would try and write a short history of the house and its occupants over the years. Maybe someday, some of my nephews and nieces will be interested enough to read it.

 

Stone Cottage was built in the 1850’s perhaps by some of the family, as quite a few people, with a little professional help fetched stone from the quarry in the Kidnalls Wood and built their own simple houses. The carpenter was my great uncle Edmund, as he engraved his initials over the door in the house. As his initials were E.M. the same as my mother’s I thought it was her initials there until my Dad explained that they were his Uncle Edmund’s.

 

The first occupants of Stone Cottage were my grandparents, Frederick and Matilda Morse. Matilda was the daughter of Thomas and Maria Phipps of Whitecroft. Frederick was the sixth child of John and Damaris and John was the third son of George and Elizabeth Morse. George and Elizabeth owned most of the land encircled by Crown Lane and the main road, also the two houses on the main road namely Holly Tree Cottage and the house next door known as ‘Cyndon’. They owned land on the other side of the road known then as Little Orchard. Their son George Morris Morse (pictured right) iived at Holly Tree until he emigrated to New Zealand in the early 1860’s. His wife, who must have kept a pub or clubhouse, as she was listed in 1861 census as an innkeeper, followed her husband to N.Z. in 1863 taking her son, his wife,her daughter and her husband too. I have a copy of a bankers draft in my possession for £30 sent to N.Z. from my great grandfather John to George Morris Morse, in payment I should think for his house, which John occupied after George’s family left. George settled in Dunedin, South Island, and was at first a mining surveyor but later bought a small coal mine on the island. George Morris had an elder brother Richard who was known as “The Bard of the Forest”. Two of his books are in Gloucester Library, one of poems called ‘Poems of the People’ and one of prose.

 

He had four children, two of which, Francis and Emily emigrated to Queensland, Australia in the 1860’s. Emily became the mother of the Australian actress Essie Jenyns famed throughout Australia in the 1880’s. George and Richard had a sister Eliza who died in America in 1834 aged 24 about whom Richard wrote some of his poems. Stone Cottage had a small cottage attached to it which was also called Stone Cottage. That too, until very recently, was occupied by Morses or relatives of Morses. Frederick Morse my grandfather, had an illegitimate son called Fred Archer Morse. He was born in 1839 and brought up by John and Damaris.

 

In 1855 Fred married Matilda and they had two sons, John and George who was my father, and three daughters, Emily, Phoebe and Agnes. My father was born in this house on June 14th, 1877. George was christened here the following day as he wasn’t expected to live and a year later his father died at the age of 49. Emily the eldest was now 20 years old, so I expect she was in domestic service away from home which was usual at that time and for years afterwards for girls over fourteen years old. John, in 1887, went to London to visit a relative and died there, he was buried at Croydon at the age of 15 years. Matilda must have had a very sad life as the two girls Phoebe, who was 16, and was a student teacher at Viney Hill School and Agnes who was only 3 years old died on the same day in 1879 of diphtheria. Phoebe was the first to be taken ill and Agnes was taken to Whitecroft to try to prevent her from getting the illness but she must have already got the germ. Fred had acquired property at Yorkley Wood but the houses and land had to be gradually sold so that the money could be used to help keep Matilda and George, as there was no financial help from anywhere in those days.

 

The four generations of Morses – George, John, Fred and George were all Free Miners. This meant that they were born within the St. Briavels Hundred and had worked one year and one day in the mines. They either owned several small  mines or had a share in them. The following is a list of names of some of the Morse’s Pits, the names of which I find fascinating:

 

Cockshoot Level Wellington Colliery

Pillowell Engine Young Forester

Little Brittain Champion

Engine Ditch ames’s Folly

Speedwell High Delf

Grove Engine As you Like It

Morse’s Level Catch Can

Independent Thatch Pit

Uncertainty

 

Later Dad and Mr George James, who kept the George Inn at Yorkley owned the Bailey Colliery. The tip has now grown over, the foxgloves and gorse growing there make a lovely picture in the summertime. Dad, my grandmother Matilda and Emily’s son George Searle lived together at Stone Cottage until Matilda died in 1910. In March the following year my parents married at the Baptist Chapel at Parkend and so my mother came to live at Stone Cottage. They hired a horse and brake and with the two witnesses Dora Phipps and Thomas Watts, who was Mum’s brother, they spent their wedding day at Ross on Wye.

 

At that time my Mum’s sister Elizabeth and her husband Fred Morse, the son of Fred Archer Morse and Ann lived in the small cottage with their seven children, three boys and four girls. They must have been very overcrowded but always seemed a very happy family. The three boys had a bed on the landing and the girls had a bed in their parents’ room, sleeping two at the top and two at the bottom. Stone Cottage was built in a peculiar way having two roofs with a gutter between one roof over the front room and the other over the back rooms. Downstairs there were two front rooms, a kitchen, and a cellar, which was used as a larder at the back. Upstairs the two front rooms had a staircase going up from the sitting room, and there was a stair in the cellar to get to the back rooms, which was very inconvenient when making the beds or emptying the pots which were kept under the beds in case of emergency. However, I made my appearance at Stone Cottage on a Palm Sunday evening, March 31st, 1912 at 6pm and my sister Doris made her appearance on May 31^st 1913.

 

We were assisted into the world with the help of the local midwife Mrs Wintle who lived down the road at Cherry Tree Cottage. She was a lovely cuddly lady with blue eyes and pink cheeks and was much loved by the mothers and children, when they were old enough to take notice. She would also come if anyone was ill or if there was a death in the family. Doris was christened Doris Agnes (after Dad’s little sister) at Whitecroft Chapel and I was christened Freda Matilda (after my grandmother) and my mother’s second name was also Matilda.

 

When we were born my Aunt Emily who had  Cyndon and Dad’s cousin Sarah and George Watkin were living at Holly Tree Cottage. As they were all related the gardens were never fenced off until years later when the Morse family were no longer living in the two houses on the lower road. There was a very deep well in our garden and the four families all drew their water from our well and only once was it known to almost dry up, after we had a very severe drought. I should think I was about 7 and Doris 6 but I can remember Dad going down the well on the rope and chain. We thought we should never see him again. He couldn’t be seen when he was down there but he came up after what seemed like hours of waiting. Looking so pleased with himself, he had found some marbles that he had dropped in when he was a boy. At the bottom of the garden of Stone Cottage was a pigsty where two pigs were usually kept and reared from very small piglets to fat pigs which we then killed. One was usually sold to help pay the rates etc. and the other was cut up and used for the families’ consumption. Pig killing day was the day we females of the family kept indoors and covered our ears as much as we could so that we shouldn’t hear the shrieks of the pig as it was being killed. Mr Charlie Smith who lived at Yorkley Slade was our butcher and he was very quick and efficient.

 

After the pig’s blood was caught to make black pudding a fire would be lit in the garden and the dead pig put in the flames to burn all the hairs off the poor thing. Next thing was to get the organs, stomach and intestines out. The intestines were then thoroughly washed perhaps four or five times which was the woman’s job and afterwards cooked and sent out to relatives and friends as chitterlings. Most people said how delicious they were but I would never try them after I saw them coming out of the pig. I would never bring myself to eat black pudding either, but my sister and cousins really enjoyed both. People used to say every port of a pig could be eaten but I liked to choose which part I ate. The heart, kidneys and liver were cut up and also shared with our neighbors. Doris and I used to have to take the fry as it was called to our friends the day after the pig was killed. After all the inside was attended to the butcher and his helpers would bring the carcass into our cellar to hang for several days. Mr. Smith would then come and cut it up into joints of meat and Mum would salt the sides for a week on the salting stones which we still have in the cellar. When it was thoroughly cured it would be hung up in our living room each side of the window so that we could cut our own bacon when we wanted it. The hams were mostly kept for when we had visitors on Sunday morning for breakfast. Dad always said the sides hanging in the room were the best pictures we could have.

 

Doris and I didn’t like the period when the carcass was hanging up as we were often sent to the cellar for something and if we weren’t careful we would bump into it, as there was no light to switch on, and we didn’t bother to light a candle, so we had many a scare. Some sows had so many piglets that it wasn’t possible for the sow to feed them all and then the smallest called the runts were taken away from the sow and given to anyone who was willing to bottle feed them. Then often they got so attached to the little piglet that they were very upset when it came to killing time. Next to the pigsty was our privy or toilet. It was a stone built little room with a door and a seat with a hole. Often a family privy had two seats, one large and one small for the children. We had no such luxury and had to hold on when we used the big one. Dad would cut up old newspaper into suitable sizes to be hung on the wall of the privy. When I went to work at the Co-op where they sold fruit as well as groceries, the manager allowed us to take the soft paper off the oranges and take it home for our use which was very much appreciated after the newspaper. It was very inconvenient having to go so far down the garden to the toilet especially on a dark winter’s night. When we were big enough to go without our parents, Doris and I had an arrangement that when it was dark if one of us wanted to go, the other one accompanied her, but we were both a bit impatient if we had to wait longer than we thought we should and kept saying “Oh hurry up” We usually took a candle in a jam jar as there were no torches in those days, but often it was a windy night and the candle would blow out and we had to grope our way back up the path.

 

There was a family called Brown who lived in a small house opposite our gate. The Granny and mother, father and three children lived there. The youngest child died and afterwards e granny wouldn’t go up to their toilet, which was the same distance up their garden, next to some fields. She took to coming down to ours instead unknown to us, until Dad went down one night and sat on her. I don’t know who was the most scared but I do know my Dad was mad with he rand as far as I know she didn’t use our toilet again.

 

In 1914 Stone Cottage was altered. The two roofs were taken down and a roof built over the whole house. The two staircases were taken down with just one in the kitchen to serve the four rooms upstairs. There were black leaded grates in the front room with hobs either side to boil the kettles and saucepans on. Underneath the grate in the living room was a fairly deep ash pit which had to be emptied each week. The ash was put on the paths in the garden as there was no rubbish collection in those days. You had to deal with all the waste as best you could. The rag and bone men used to often call and a family of tinkers who lived near Lydney could collect any old metal. The kitchen waste was fed to the pig, dog or cat. Washing day always had a smell of its own. Mum always used Lifebuoy soap as there were no soap powders then. The kitchen would be full of steam if it was a wet day and wet clothes would be everywhere. It was hard work in those days as you had to get the dolly tub out, fill it full of hot water, beat the clothes with the dolly for some time, take them out all dripping wet and put them through the mangle which was kept in the cellar, as it was a big awkward thing. Then more cold water was put into the boiler and all the white clothes boiled up until clean.Then they were put through the mangle again. Most people did their washing on Mondays and if it was a fine day you could see lovely white clothes blowing in the wind in some gardens. Tuesday was ironing day. The flat irons were heated up on the stove or the fire and so had to be cleaned before using them. You had to put them up to your face to feel if they were the right temperature before you could iron the clothes.

 

Each day brought its hard work. Tables had to be scrubbed and the floors usually had to be scrubbed as there was only matting for the downstairs and lino for the bedrooms with mats made with rags and pegs to make it look more cosy. My mother spent hours making rugs and she still did them when she was 90 years old. Doris and I were also taught to make them. Mum was also good at crochet work, making edgings for blinds, cushions, mats and underclothes. After a few lessons Doris picked it up and was able to do a few simple stitches but I wasn’t much good at it and kept getting in a muddle. I never did master it. Mum also taught us to knit, which I could do fairly well but was never much good at sewing, but could do some embroidery work which was interesting. Doris was very good at sewing and made lovely things when she was grown up. Mum taught us how to do all the household duties, including scrubbing the front court, which if it was fine weather we had to do every week. We also helped clean the silver and brass each week and brush Dad’s best suit on Mondays to be put away until the next Sunday when he would wear it again.

 

Crown Lane has changed a lot over the years. When we were children there was a barn at the top of the lane on the same side as Stone Cottage, standing in a bit of waste ground we called the Barn Patch. There was a short lane between that and Stone Cottage running down to the Lower Road. Dad bought the lane and a small patch of waste ground from the Forestry Commission and put a gate at either end. The Barn Patch was owned by the brewery who eventually sold it to my Aunt Emily and it was just left derelict for years until her grandson Brian had a bungalow built there.

 

Our garden ran out to Holly Patch and the cottage where the Adams family lived and later Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Jones. Around the corner at the bottom of the lane lived the Marshall family and the rest of the land was Holly Patch. Opposite the Marshall family was a very small house occupied by the Phipps family that was demolished years ago. Coming up on that side of the lane was a big house standing away from the lane up a long drive. This was the house of James Warren and family and later Mr. and Mrs. Frank Willets. Next to that was the farm which belonged to a family of James’s nicknamed Councillor. Mr. James was a timber haulier and he kept several horses for his work. He would bring them up the lane to go to work in the wood. If he heard them coming, Dad would call Doris **and I, to go out with a bucket and shovel in case they had left any manure, and if they had it was then gathered up and put on the garden. Mr. and Mrs. James’s farm had a short drive at the bottom of the Lane with a stile and a large gate. There was a right of way through the stile and up past their house and through two fields and it came out on the Lydney Road where Yorkley Road commenced. Going back to Crown Lane, on the right hand side going towards the Crown Inn was a little house with its back to the lane where another James family lived. Mr. and Mrs. James (Dapper) had three daughters, Annie, Ethel and Alice and they had adopted a little girl Hilda, whose mother had died when Hilda was a baby. Hilda was about my age and we played together a lot when we were small. Their house was demolished 20 years or more ago and a fairly big modern house has recently been built on the site. Next up the lane were two semi-detached cottages called Crown Cottages. My dad told me his Aunt Damaris had lived in the end cottage, but the first occupants that I remember were the Marshall family, who lost one or two of their children with TB or consumption as it was called in those days. After the Marshall family the James (Sparks) family moved in and their grand-daughter Anne and her husband now own the cottage which has been altered beyond all recognition.

 

The other Crown Cottage which is next to the Old Crown is now the home of Mrs James’s daughter Seem. That has been renovated and improved but it looks the same from the outside as my first recollection of it when I was a child and Mrs. Brown, who lived to be 100 years old and her niece Miss Brown lived there. They had, before I can remember, kept a Post Office there, with a post box on the outside wall where Esme’s porch is now. The post box was built into our coal shed wall after the Post Office closed. Years later it was moved to its present position on the garden wall between Claremont and what used to be Kear’s shop. I can remember going to post a letter when I was in my late teens and a car drew up and two ladies stepped out and asked me if I knew where Crown Lane was. They said they were from Devon and had come to the district for a holiday and thought they would like to find the house where they used to visit their grandmother years before. I asked her name and they told me “Damaris something!” I think it was Morgan but can’t be sure but the name Damaris was familiar as Dad often talked of his Aunt Damaris who lived in the Lane.

 

Of course, I took them home at once to see my Dad and they recognised each other at once as they were cousins. Damaris, being my grandfather Fred’s sister. The ladies, whose names I have forgotten and Dad spent several hours reminiscing and then Mrs James (Spark) let them see the inside of their Grannie’s cottage again. It was such a coincidence that it was one of our family they asked, as I wouldn’t think that anyone else would have remembered Damaris living in Crown Lane.

 

Until recent years we had three shops quite near. There was a butcher’s shop which was built by the Yarwood family and which they kept for many years and has stayed open until the beginning of this year, 1992, when it closed. Opposite there was a grocery shop which was part of Claremont and was rented to Mr. Thomas Morse Price who was a distant cousin of Dad’s hence his middle name Morse. Mr. Price was a good businessman and ran the shop for many years, but

he wouldn’t have won a prize for window dressing. He used to put a few tins and packets of goods in the window and always a figure of Punch which got grubby through so many years in the window. Most of the local older people will remember Punch with affection as he was part of our childhood.

 

Next to Price’s shop was Kear’s shop and a bakery at the back of the shop. There they sold cakes, bread, sweets etc. There was also a Co-op store a little way down Upper Road into Pillowell where Mr. Price was manager until he opened his little shop. Now we have no shop nearer than the Post Office in Yorkley. There were three shops lower down in Pillowell on the Main Road. There was the Post Office which was kept by Mr. and Mrs. Lewis. Mr Wilce’s general stores opposite and a little way further down was Hurst’s Stores. They all seemed to make a living in those days but the shops have all closed down now and are dwelling houses. The pubs too are in short supply these days compared with my childhood. When coming from Yorkley to Whitecroft there was The Bailey Inn and just below in the green was the Royal Oak and opposite the Onward Hall was the George Inn, then the Stag Inn and down to Crown Lane where there was the Crown Inn. In Pillowell, the Foresters and in Phipp’s Bottom before you came to Whitecroft, the Swan Inn. Now the only two left as pubs are the Bailey and the Swan.

 

Now going back to Crown Lane, the Crown Inn was next to Crown Cottages and was kept when I first remember it by Mr. and Mrs. Robins. Mr. Robins died and Mrs. Robins married Mr. Morgan who took over the pub. They had a club house on the second floor, a big room with a balcony. There they held smoking concerts, band concerts and a club called the Death Club. As most of the local people were miners and not very well off, some men got together and formed this club where they all put in a little money each week and if there was a death in any member’s family the club helped with the expenses for the burial, as there was no government help. Every year they held their annual financial meeting, where, if they hadn’t paid out much during the year some of it was given back to the members to have an extra drink or two. It was fun as a social evening. They had singers and other entertainment and if it was a fine evening the window was opened on to the balcony and if we were in our garden we could hear most of the concert. The newly formed Yorkley Band also had a hut or room at the back of the Crown Inn in which they practiced, until they were able to build the Onward Hall.

 

Next to the Crown Inn and opposite our gate was a funny shaped little house in which the Brown family lived. They were quite a big family but had only one room downstairs. Joining this house at the back was a shop. Once it was a grocery shop which was kept by the Curnach family but I can’t remember that, but I can remember it being a butchers shop and after that a cobblers shop (Fred Ward’s) and there were two rooms over the shop which were used as bedrooms by the Brown family. Above Brown’s house was a field and two cottages which were off the road and up long paths, next to the Stag Inn. These cottages were back to back. The back one was the Lee’s home and the front one, my Uncle Fred and my Aunt Elizabeth lived in, after they moved from Stone Cottage. Now it is all one house owned by Mr. and Mrs. Fluck.

 

In Holly Patch there are now two big houses. One owned by Mrs. Dorothy Kear and the other one, which was first built as a bungalow, was built for Harry Kear and my niece Lynne (nee Baigent) in 1968. When they had their family the bungalow was altered into a house, the Rainer family own it now and have added a Granny flat, There were so many James’s and Jones’s around that we used to call them by their nicknames to distinguish them from one another. I find it extraordinary, as I get older, what I remember and what I have forgotten. My earliest memories go back to about 1916 when I was four years old. Wilfred, the eldest of my cousins who lived next door said he was older than he was, in order to join the army in 1914. I can remember him coming home on leave at least twice and then watching with all the family and seeing him go down the path for the last time. I had a lovely dog at the time called Gowler who was a black and white mongrel. He was very attached to Wilfred and made such a fuss of him when he came home. My uncle Fred used to take down a large photograph of Wilfred in his uniform they had hanging up in the house, and Gowler would lick it all over. When Wilfred went away again Gowler would pine for days. Wilfred was killed in 1918.

 

My Aunt Elizabeth, who was Wilfred’s mother, used to tell me that when I was a little toddler I would go across the court and into their house as soon as our door was open. One day when Wilfred was having his breakfast I went in as usual but I was scrunching something in my mouth. When he went to investigate he found I had a couple of snails in my mouth and was scrunching their shells, where upon he was sick and wouldn’t have me in again until after he had eaten. I do hope I wasn’t the cause of his going into the army.

 

Of course we were rationed all through the war (1914-1918) and I can remember walking with Mum and other mothers and children to Lydney if we heard there was paraffin for sale, as we had to rely on candles for our light. I would also go with my girl cousins who lived next door, Alice and Bernice, down to the Co-op with our jam jars when we heard they had treacle in stock. This came in casks and we had to put our jars underneath the tap and have them filled either with black treacle or white treacle – no Golden Syrup in those days, we were glad to have anything to put on our toast as butter was scarce. We were glad to have anything to put on our toast as butter was scarce. We often had dripping but it was nice to have treacle for a change.

 

I went to Yorkley School before I was four years old. Bernice and Alice used to take me there. I can remember going with other school children out in the fields picking blackberries which were made into jam for the troops. I started blackberrying at a very early age and still love going in the Autumn. I cannot remember many more incidents during the first world war, but I can remember

Armistice Day when the bells were ringing, pit hooters were blowing and the flags being put out on gate posts and out of people’s windows. There was a string of flags put up between Claremont and the butchers shop and I couldn’t understand how they were put up as high, and crossing the road too. That puzzled me for some time. One very sad thing happened on Armistice Day. My mother’s brother Will had married Lucy Jones whose parents kept the shop at Pillowell before the Wilce family. Well, that day they heard that their son had been killed, which seemed awful when other people were rejoicing.

 

Some of the James’s I have mentioned before – Councillor, Dapper, Spark, also Puddle Warrior, Chopper, Nip, Nubbin and Fiddler. The Jones’s were Bonnie, Jadder, Quick-un and Spot. My Dad was always known as Uncle Morse by everyone round here. I doubt if anyone knew his name was George. His nickname originated from the time he was at school as he was younger than at least four of his nephews who used to call him uncle for fun, and it just stuck. Bernice, my cousin was four years old when I was born, we were always the best of friends and remained so, until she died soon after my eightieth birthday in 1992. We always played well together and loved one another as sisters and friends, then one day, for no reason at all that I can remember, I bit her on the arm. She had the scar all her life but she never bore me any grudge. I must have been a very spiteful and naughty little girl because a little while afterwards I bit a school friend of Mine, Emily Kear because she was a bit taller than me. At that time we had one of the infant teachers, Miss Workman living with us and she told mum what had happened and so I expect I had a good smacked bottom. I expect I had a smacked bottom too when I bit Bernice but I can’t remember that. The worst part for me though wasn’t the smack but the thought of Emily’s mother coming up to tell me off and so for several days when I came home I would hide under the table which had a cloth hanging all over it and I thought I wouldn’t be seen under there, but however, she didn’t come. Emily always has a laugh about it whenever we meet.

 

Another of my earliest memories is of Saturday evenings when we all went as a family to visit George and Dolly Searle who were living then at Pillowell but had lived at Stone Cottage with my parents when they were first married, until after their eldest daughter Kitty was born. Another place we sometimes visited was the George Inn at Yorkley where Dad’s friend and previous partner in the Bailey Pit lived, Mr and Mrs. George James. Dad used to carry me on his shoulders. I loved being up so high where I could see everything. Mum used to carry Doris or wheel her in the pram. I was too lively to be in the pram with my little sister. My Dad used to walk with his right foot at an angle and he always put that foot down harder than the left one. I used to walk behind him and imitate his walk until I began to walk like him most of the time and mum got very cross with me and so I had to learn to walk properly again.

 

My parents worked very hard all week but Sunday was a day of rest and for us being together as a family. If the weather was good we went in the woods for walks. If it was a rainy evening and during the winter months we had a fire in the sitting room and Dad would play the organ and we all used to sing. Sometimes we played games together.

 

The miners in those days worked hard for a very small wage. Dad worked at the Brick Pit Colliery at Mossley Green after the Bailey Pit closed. Then afterwards he went to a pit called the Flour Mill (a funny name for a colliery) which was in a wood at Bream. They had to set off early in the morning as they had to walk to the pit and after they had gone down the mine, either in a cage, if it was a big pit, or walk if it was a level they often had a long walk to the coal face. They used to wear moleskin trousers, old shirts, old coats and thick boots and parks to put around the legs of their trousers. They took what they called their tommy bag with them, with bread and cheese in and a tin container bottle which they mostly filled with tea. They were tied together and slung over their shoulders. They always had to take No. 16 candles with them to see down the pit.

 

They came home with coal dust all over their faces, filthy dirty, as black as the ace of spades everywhere. There were no pit head baths then (the first was opened in 1950) and the women had to have lots of hot water ready for them to wash when they got home. When we were old enough we used to wash Dad’s back for him. Doris and I were very pleased if we woke up before Dad went to work and we would come down and sit on the stairs and Dad would give us a bit of his toast. It always tasted better than the toast we had later. If we were lucky we had a cup of tea in some special little pretty cups. We had one cup which was decorated with red poppies and we both wanted that one and so we had to have it in turns. The men also had to cultivate their gardens and feed and clean out the pigs when they came home from work. Everyone grew vegetables and most people kept animals to help to feed the family. We had two cherry trees in our garden which when the cherries were getting ripe Dad would put up a bell in the tree and it was the children’s job to try and keep the birds from eating the fruit by frightening them off with the bell. If we had a good crop we sold pennyworths and put the money towards the rtes on the house.

 

Miners wages were very small and so we all had to be very careful, look after our clothes etc. and not waste food. My mother was a very good cook and housekeeper and we never had anything we couldn’t pay for. She took a lot of trouble preparing the meals which were simple but nourishing e.g. soups from bones with vegetables added, stews, tripe, cottage pies, stuffed hearts, stuffed marrows, liver and sometimes for a treat on Sundays a piece of sirloin of beef, also boiled puddings, apple dumplings, bread pudding, roly poly, ginger or fruit cake, fish and eggs. Doris and I would share an egg because one of us would prefer the yolk and the other the white. We had plenty of vegetables in our garden and also apples, pears, raspberries, black and redcurrants, cherries and strawberries. Any scraps we had were saved and boiled up for the pigs after some sharps or other meal was added. We also had our bacon sides which lasted for several months and we grew herbs in the garden such as mint, parsley, mugwort, peppermint, etc. We collected elderflowers and elderberries for colds and making wine.

 

Most Saturday mornings we had to drink mugwort to keep our bowels regular. We had brimstone and treacle if we had any skin trouble which we liked much better than the mugwort. If anyone had a cold on the chest out would come the goose grease which was duly rubbed into us. For toothache we were given a clove to hold in the mouth and peppermint was given for tummy ache. Of course if anyone was really ill we would send for our local doctor – Dr, Mains, who used to ride a horse on his rounds and had certain places where he used to tether his horse up. Later on he had a motor cycle and side car to go around in and he could then take his wife out for rides. I was very lucky when I was growing up not to have much wrong with my health, just the normal childhood complains – measles, chickenpox and mumps. I did have mumps very badly and mum had me in bed with her one night, a scarf of large bandages was tied around under the chin and the ends used to stand up on your head like rabbit ears. Well, I caught sight of myself in Mum’s mirror and thought I had seen a monster and woke everyone up with my screams. If all the family had an attack of flu I used to say that I wouldn’t get it and I didn’t. Doris wasn’t as fortunate as I was. She had a lot of ear-ache, colds on her chest and she always seemed to catch the flu, also her teeth seemed to go rotten as they came through her gums. She had all her teeth out when she was in her teens in the bedroom in this house, we had a doctor, dentist and a nurse with her and the job was soon done. She also had her tonsils out at Gloucester Hospital when she was quite small.

 

Wallace my cousin who lived next door at the time had his out at the same time. They came back from hospital on the train to Whitecroft station and mum and Aunt Annie who looked after Wallace had to go and get them home as best they could. Doris was carried most of the way but Wallace was too big for carrying and so had to walk while he was still a bit dopey.

 

There were several families of gypsies living in tents on the edge of the wood. They would come around selling pegs and paper flowers which they had made themselves. They would also pretend to tell our fortunes and suggest remedies for any ailment we might have, such as burying a small piece of meat or bacon in the garden, if we had warts, and the warts were supposed to disappear as the meat rotted. We also had a Rag and Bone man who collected any old clothes etc. and a family of tinkers lived a little way off but would come round occasionally with their pots and pans for sale. Charlie the Shoe Black was a very familiar sight as he had no home but slept in barns and outhouses.

 

The biggest part of the work force in the Forest were coal miners as there were several large pits and many small ones working in those days. The miners were poorly paid and worked in atrocious conditions. Often they would have to stand in water for the biggest part of their shift and often had to work on their knees or in a stooping position as the roof was very slow. It was also very dangerous work as the roof could fall in and either bury or injure the men or perhaps block their way out. Miners in other places had to beware of gas but the Forest miners didn’t have that hazard.

 

In 1921 and again in 1926 the miners were so fed up with so little money to feed and clothe their families, when they could see the owners of the pits getting richer and richer, that they called a strike. There were very great hardships during those two strikes as there was no money at all coming in and families had to live as best they could. Most of the people in the Forest had large gardens and so during the strike they were thankful for the produce from them. We were allowed

to go into the woods and take away any dead wood we could find and the men would throw a piece of rope with a weight on the end, over a dead branch and so pull it to the ground.

 

The Free Miners were also allowed to dig their little pits in the wood where there was surface coal and dig it out for their use and so we had plenty of fuel. Doris and I were attending Yorkley School during the 1921 strike. Mum had volunteered with some of the other mothers to prepare and serve a mid-day meal for the miner’s children but Doris and I had to come down to my Gran’s house for our meal as we owned our own house,, we thought that this was unfair. During

the 1926 strike we were both at Lydney Secondary School and we used to meet mounted police as we were coming home as there were lots of riots as the strike went on and people were more deprived, There were some of the miners who wouldn’t go on strike as they were afraid their families would suffer. They were called black-legs and were either shunned by the striking miners or sometimes roughly handled.

 

By this time a General Strike was called by the Trade Unions in sympathy with the miners and that almost brought England to a standstill. However, the general strike didn’t last long and the miners were back at work before the end of the year, By then if any of the miners had saved anything out of their small wages it had all been used up. Therefore they had to go back to work. Several men round here were injured in the pit. One was my mother’s brother Tom, who recovered from a broken back and was able to get about with a stick but couldn’t work after his accident. Dad’s cousin Fred fell down a mine shaft at Mossley Green called the Blue Boys. His life was saved by a trickle of water running on to his wounds, as his arm was badly torn and had to be amputated Afterwards. He later had a hooked arm and grew a beard and although he was a lovely gentleman he looked like a pirate. The miners were brave men and if they escaped injury during their time in the pits they often suffered occupational diseases such as bronchitis, emphysema, silicosis or heart disease.

 

Dad had to retire from the pit when he was in his early 40’s on doctor’s orders as his health wasn’t at all good then. However, he worked very hard after that, on the pipe track which was being laid locally to supply piped water to our homes. I was very surprised one day when his boss David Laing from Parkend came to the Co-op where I was working then and asked me to have a word with Dad to try and get him to ease up a bit with his work as David thought he was working too hard. He was keeping up with much younger men and not resting as much as they did. It isn’t often your boss tries to tell you to slow down but I know Dad put everything he could into any job he had as he was very conscientious. He would never be a minute late, rather be ten minutes early and he never left before time. Also he was apt to pay anyone who was working for him before they had finished the job – I’m afraid I’m inclined to do the same thing.

 

My mum was a very busy woman as well as looking after us and doing household chores she was often called to a neighbour who was ill, or a child in trouble, a woman in labour, or even to put out a small fire in a kitchen one day. She was also an active member of the Labour Party and was a founder member of Yorkley W.I. as well as Pillowell Methodist Sisterhood. My Dad was a member of Pillowell Brass Band until they disbanded in 1903 when some of the members including Dad and five or six of his nephews formed Yorkley Onward Band. Mum and her sister Annie used to prepare and sell refreshments at dances and whist drives at the Onward Hall to help get funds for the band. Until the hall was built with donations and loans from some of the band members, the band always practiced in a hut in Crown Lane. The day before a whist drive or dance would be a cake making day which we children loved as we were allowed one cake each for tea: we could choose which one we would like.

 

Next day we were busy helping to carry the cakes, sandwiches, scones and china etc. up to the hall ready for the evening event. Aunt Elizabeth, Uncle Fred and their family moved from Stone Cottage to a cottage near the Stag Inn but still in Crown Lane. When they moved out my Gran was the only grandparent we had. Aunt Annie had previously left her job in Surrey as a cook and came to help keep house for her brother Will and his three children when his wife Lucy died. Later Uncle Will’s mother-in-law looked after them until she was too old. Kate and Wallace came up to join us at Stone Cottage. Eunice stayed with her Gran Jones at Pillowell. Kate stayed with Gran and Aunt Annie, and Uncle Will and Wallace slept in our house but they had all meals together next door. Aunt Annie did a lot for us children. She was a very good dressmaker and earned her living that way. When there was a carnival she would make costumes for all of us. We won several prizes in the different carnivals in the district. Aunt Elizabeth ‘s two boys, Jack and Albert bought a donkey and kept it to a stable belonging to the Stag Inn at night, and in the daytime let it out in the adjoining field. One day the boys had an idea and put a notice on the stable door saying “One penny to come and see the donkey with his tail where his head should be”. There were quite a few of us children lined up with our penny to see this peculiar donkey only to find when the stable door was opened that the donkey’s tail had been tied to the manger instead of it’s head.

 

For a short time after Gran came to live next door she was able to come with us into the wood when we all went wood collecting over Captains. She would take with her a small towel and when she had collected her bundle of wood and tied it up she would make a turban with the towel and carrying the wood on her head. We were so envious as none of us children could balance our wood on our heads. She had a very upright figure until she died at the age of 83. Jackie Taylor came to live with Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Fred when he was 3 years old. His mother Lily Blanche Taylor was a sister to Uncle Fred and a niece of Dad’s. She died of food poisoning when Jackie was about 2 years old. His father remarried and Jackie was brought down to the Forest and he was brought up with their family and never wanted to go back to his Dad in Coventry. He was spoilt with so many of his relatives here because he was a lovely little boy. He would do his rounds to each of his Aunties in the morning and then decide where he was going to have dinner. One morning he came to our house for breakfast. He said he didn’t want tea but would have a cup of cocoa. When mum gave it to him he wanted sauce in it, but she wouldn’t give in to him, so he went next door to Grans but she wouldn’t give it to him either so he didn’t try again.

 

Before he was old enough to start school he followed us up to school one morning and stood outside looking in and my teacher saw him and brought him in and said he could sit by me until someone could take him home. He was clutching a small tin in his hand and the first thing he did when he sat down was to put several snails he had collected in the tin, on my writing book. I shouted out and made a fuss and so I had to take him home. I must have had a good imagination when I was young as people used to say “she has been around before”. I really thought I must have had another life before and made up a story about when I was a boy and lived in Wales. I really thought my stories were true until Mum heard about them and punished me for telling lies.

 

I was also in trouble when I was sent with 6d. to buy some eggs. I noticed some pretty wild flowers growing just inside the fence around someone’s garden. I put my hand in and picked one and lost the 6d. I had to go back home and tell Mum and I was doubly punished for losing the 6d. and stealing a flower out of a garden. Mum kept a small birch twig behind a picture and when we were naughty she would say “If you don’t be good I shall get the stick down”. I can’t remember her using it very often as the threat was usually enough.

 

Over Captains was our favourite place to play. There were three large larch trees at that time and a quarry which was later filled in and the parsonage built over it. Out of the quarry we used to get pieces of china and other odds and ends which had been thrown away. Then we would select our tree and the roots of the trees which were above the ground became the boundaries of our pretend houses. The china etc. was our furniture, acorn cups our drinking cups and we gathered up hawthorn leaves when they were young and called these “bread and cheese’. We also collected berries when these were in season. Foxglove flowers were put on our fingers for gloves. We would sometimes gather dried fern and try and make fern houses but the boys could make them much better than we girls. One day I ran a dried fern stalk through four fingers of my left hand. Before I could get home for Mum to take it out my fingers started to go blue. Mum had quite a job getting every bit out but at last she succeeded and my hand soon healed up. A few years after that incident Mum’s cousins boy Gerald Kear was playing in the wood and fell on a dried fern which pierced his heart and he died. That was a terrible tragedy which made us all be more careful when playing in the wood. Another accident I remember was when Jack and Albert gave their sister Kate a ride in their trolley they had made. They let it go on the edge of the quarry and Kate fell out and cut her face very badly.

 

We loved going down to the brook which ran by the railway line which used to run through the wood from the collieries, carrying coal to Lydney. We used to stank the stream and then it was deep enough to paddle in. We also put pieces of wood etc. at one end where the stream ran underground and retrieve it at the other end. Doris invariably fell in and then I would have to take her home but I would get into trouble because I was the eldest and was supposed to look after her. Another incident that I remember, was that we were coming home from the wood and noticed how dirty our pinafores were and so decided to wash them out before going home. Well Mum wasn’t very pleased at our first attempt at washing, and we got reprimanded instead of praised, as we thought we might.

 

Pillowell Methodist Chapel was built in 1855 a few yards from the first Methodist Chapel in Pillowell which was opened in 1835 at a cost of £70. This building was sold some years later to Pillowell and Yorkley Branch of the Co-operative Society and was a flourishing grocery and bakery business until 1958. After the stores were closed the premises were used for the meeting place of the Senior Citizens Clubs. The shop has now been made into flats but the old bakehouse is still used by one club.

 

Dad’s brother Frederick Archer Morse was one of the first Trustees of the new chapel. I have a photograph of my mother when she was 9 years old outside the chapel at the official opening ceremony. She had been skipping on the green outside the chapel when she saw people gathering together to have their photograph taken and joined them still with her rope in her hand and her pinafore on.

 

Mum and her family, the Watts’, attended Pillowell Chapel but Dad and his family went to Whitecroft Chapel. In those days Pillowell Chapel was called Primitive Methodist but Whitecroft was Wesleyan Chapel. The nickname of the Ranters was given to the Primitive Methodist Chapels.. I suppose they did a lot of talking and their sermons were long. However, eventually all the Wesleyan and Primitive Methodist Churches were called Methodist Churches which was much simpler.

 

Chapel and Sunday School always played a big part in the lives of Doris and I. We started Sunday School at an early age. Mrs Lilian Turner was leader of the Primary Department when we joined. She was a lovely lady who had lost her husband Donald during the First World War. He was son of a Methodist minister who lived at Lydney for several years. Before he was called up, Donald had a big class of teenage boys at Sunday School and two or three of them turned out to be local preachers. Mrs Turner had lost a daughter at birth and because I was the same age as her daughter would have been, she always made a fuss of me. Mrs Turner and I remained very friendly until her death, she was like a secondmother to me and I am still in touch with her only son Douglas. My Aunt Annie, Mum’s sister who never married, spent years of her life looking after her mother, brother and his children, after his wife died, was a teacher in the Sunday School.

When Mrs Turner gave up the leadership Aunt Annie took her place. In those days we had a large Sunday School for a small village with Beginners, Primary, Junior and Senior departments. The younger children met from 2pm. – 3 pm. and the older ones from 3pm. – 4pm. We often took part in plays, concerts and the Sunday School Anniversary on the third Sunday in June. There was no

trouble in getting us to weekly practices for this great event. None of our parents were very well off but they always managed to buy or make us a new dress for that day when we gave three performances. For the morning service we wore our last years dress, keeping our new finery for the afternoon and evening.

 

We didn’t let on to our friends the colour or style of our new clothes so that we surprised each other on the day. Sometimes we didn’t look quite as smart in the evening, as we did in the afternoon, as although we had to change as soon as we got home and then change again for the evening we often managed to get one white sock dirty or a smudge on our dress. We were all so excited all the week after the anniversary because on the Saturday following we had our annual Sunday School treat. We would all meet on the green outside the Sunday School and had a tea sitting on the grass. All that I remember having was bread and butter and plain, seed or fruit cake but we thought the meal was the best of the year. Mrs. Brett, the caretaker made the tea. She was a real character, tall and thin with a very stern face and was always telling us off for trivial things, but she worked very hard and I’m sure she had a kind heart because she brought up her niece Daisy and Daisy’s little boy Jackie. When I think of her now I imagine her with a large white apron on and a big enamel teapot in her hand Unfortunately she was burned to death in her home when her clothes caught fire due to standing too near to the open fire.

 

Well, after our tea party we would line up in two’s behind Pillowell Band which assembled on the road in front of the Chapel with four of the biggest scholars holding our Sunday School banner, which is still hung in our school room. It is almost 100 years old and was getting the worse for wear, but a few years ago Doris made a very good job of repairing it. When the band struck up their first march, we followed in a procession to Danby Lodge via the Lower Road, Yorkley and round the beech trees and up Parkend Road to the Bailey and so into the woods to Danby Lodge.

 

Each time the band stopped playing we would wave our little flags and shout “Hip Hip Hooray, Tea Party Day”. Mrs Martfleet from Pillowell would follow us with her donkey and cart from which she sold sweets and ice-cream. Sometimes Mr Ruck would also come with his “Aunt Sally” which had to be shied at for a present. We also had games and scrambling for sweets on the grass which was lots of fun, we all enjoyed our afternoons at Danby Lodge but when it was time to go home we didn’t enjoy the long walk back as we were very tired by that time. When we were in our teens we were allowed to stay until 9 o’clock when the older children played “kiss-in-the-ring”.

 

Other weekday activities at the Sunday School were Magic Lanterns where slides were shown and turned around with a handle on the side of the projector. We also had I.O.G.T. (Independent Order of Good Templars) which we translated as “I Owe Grannie Twopence” where we had to promise not to drink, smoke or swear. We both enjoyed sitting for exams and entered and passed several for I.O.G.T. scripture exams and later music ones. When I was 15 I became a Primary Sunday School teacher and stayed in the Sunday School nearly 65 years.When Aunt Annie retired as leader of the Primary Dept. I was asked to taker her place and was leader until 1991 when I retired. Doris came back to live in this district in 1948 and she taught in the Junior Dept. with Alf and Don Wintle for several years. David and Lynne (my nephew and niece) attended Sunday School and when Lynne was 15 she became a Primary teacher and stayed until the Sunday School closed in 1992. David and Lynne’s children were all christened at our chapel and David’s children Simon, Thomas and Philip came to Sunday school when they were down here for the weekend, Scott, Patrick and Joanne all became teachers and Adam was still with the Sunday School when it was closed.

 

For years the Sunday School performed a Nativity Play before Christmas, which was a busy time for the children and the teachers. We carried on with the anniversary until 1991 when there weren’t enough children to take part. In later years the annual treat was to take the children on a bus to Barry, Weston Super Mare, or Porthcawl for the day. Once or twice we went back to the old style of treat,. Following the band to Pillowell Recreation Ground instead of Danby Lodge. We had races etc. and we also tried going to Winchford having a barbecue with games afterwards. The last time we went it poured with rain all the time we were there.

 

We had a Christmas Party for the children and teachers each year except for 2 or 3 years when we went to a local pantomime instead. We also had an annual Missionary Society rally where the children of the Sunday School took part. I was the local secretary for a number of years and was responsible for the Missionary events, the subscriptions which the children of the Sunday School brought in each week and the boxes which some adults and children used. I played the piano in the Sunday School for years, until I was made leader in January 1957, when Carole Wintle took over. I was appointed organist in June 1957 and Trustee in July 1957 and so 1957 became a momentous year for me. When we changed the time of Sunday School to 11am. Instead of 2pm. Philip Wintle played the organ in the mornings until a few years later when he went to college and Muriel Gwynne took over. I retired from my position as organist in October 1993.

 

One of the first Superintendents of the Sunday School was a lovely old man Mr Charlie Baghurst who christened any children in the Sunday School instead of in the chapel if the parents wished it. Mr Percy Pettiford was another of our Superintendents, who introduced the Silver Tree, when we needed money to keep the place in good repair, we would give a bag to anyone interested in the chapel and if they wanted to, they put a piece of silver in the bag and brought it back to chapel on a special evening. There would be a tree for the bags to be hung on and then we had a social evening. Mrs Cis Dainton was a good worker for the chapel. She was a Sunday School teacher and a local preacher. Her son Martin, who had Down’s Syndrome always came to Sunday School and chapel and was very helpful in doing little jobs like putting out books, sowing the grass, and blowing the organ when we had a manual pump. He was so upset when we had an electric blower fitted to the organ, and for a long while we let him carry on and not switch the electric blower on. He would often put a sweet on a note on the organ or piano for me. Mrs Bertha Marshall was our organist for several years. She also taught in the Sunday School.

 

Another Sunday School teacher was Mrs Gertie Davies whose bus band was the first organist I can remember at chapel. He was also the Choir master and had a good choir at that time. Mrs Davies was a day school teacher and we were all a bit in awe of her until one Sunday she came with her blouse hanging down her back by the strings which used to go around her waist and tied. She must have changed her blouse before coming and had forgotten to untie the strings when she put her clean one on. We realised then that she was human after all and we weren’t nearly as frightened of her as we had been before. During the Second World War Betty Kear and I ran a Mother’s and Toddler Group and looked after the children while the mothers had a meeting in the classroom. Doris did a bit of local preaching. She went to two or three little chapels in the circuit and had led services which she did very well.

 

Mum, Doris and I belonged to the Sisterhood which was led by Mrs. Dainton. I was secretary for a number of years and during that time Mrs Turner and I did a lot of drawn thread work which we sold and eventually made enough money to put the first toilets in the Sunday School. Mrs Turner taught me how to do the work but I was never as good as she was. Eventually her hands became so bad with arthritis that she had to give the work up until she had a miraculous cure when I went with her to a Healing Service at Whitecroft Chapel where Elsie Salmon (The Lady in White) was doing marvellous cures. Several people were cured that night in front of a chapel full of people but it wasn’t until the next morning Mrs Turner was cured and so could resume her sewing. That was an evening I shall never forget especially as Elsie Salmon was a native of Pillowell.

 

Our Sisterhood visited other Sisterhoods in the Forest and we met a lot of lovely Christian women. When the older members of the group died we hadn’t many younger ones to carry on and so eventually we had to close. When Rev. Leslie Wollen, who was then the Chairman of the circuit, retired Mr and Mrs Wollen came to live at Pillowell and Mrs Wollen suggested to me that we try and start a meeting for younger women. I contacted the Sunday School children’s Mothers and we soon formed a small group and met on Wedneday evenings and the Pillowell Wednesday Group was formed, which is still going strong.

 

Before the Wollens came here we were fortunate to have another retired Minister, the Rev George Lawrence who came to live in Pillowell. His wife was Marjorie Price. He was a lovely man and we all enjoyed and appreciated his ministry. He took charge of Whitecroft and Pillowell Chapels and so when Mr. Wollen came, Mr Lawrence took charge of Whitecroft only and Mr Wollen, Pillowell. They both did such a lot for the chapels and we still miss them very much. Mrs Wollen took a very active part in the church as well as starting the Wednesday Group. Mr and Mrs Wollen ran a club called the Shell Group. They also arranged meetings after chapel, at a few of our homes for the teenagers which Scott joined and the young people called themselves The Chosen Few. In connection with the Shell Group, Mr and Mrs Wollen arranged adventure holidays for the children at Plas-y-Anter. Scott, Patrick and Joanne went several times and enjoyed themselves. I helped with the group for a few years and so was persuaded to take part in one or two of the concerts they gave, On one occasion Mr Wollen and I dressed as school children and were supposed to be disagreeable twins. We pushed each other off the piano stool when we were supposed to be playing “The Twin Duet” and thumped the keyboard and each other. We didn’t have anything planned to do or say. It was all impromptu but the audience thought it was really funny.

 

At another of their concerts I was given several lines to learn and several of us had to come onto the stage and say one line, go off when someone else came on to say their line. Well I kept forgetting my lines and so had to keep going behind the curtain to be prompted and then perhaps forget them again. The audience thought it was all in the script and they thought it was hilarious.

 

Doris and I used to visit Rev and Mrs Mason’s home in the Council House at Lower Yorkley. We were going to school at Lydney at the time and so we took Mrs Mason a jug of our well water each day on our way to school as she was very ill with TB. She had a sister, another Tilly came down to look after them. She was a lovely girl and we made friends with her and kept in touch until her death several years ago.

 

Neither Doris nor I were married in our chapel. Doris and Fred were married at Parkend Church and Ren and I were married at Springfield Chapel at Lydney. Harry and Lynne were married at Pillowell Chapel on March 30th 1968 and David and Sue were married in Mansfield, Nottinghamshire in October 1966.

 

 Source

 

Forest of Dean Family History Pages

 

http://www.forest-of-dean.net/?Maps_of_the_Forest