Jessie Cupples Brett
My grandmother was one of the cleanest but crankiest women on this earth, and she always knew when we were up to something. Whether it was the fact that her son Eric married a very strict convent-educated Catholic and that grandmother hated Catholics more that the devil himself, I don’t know. She hated the Pope and always had something sarcastic to say about him. Mum was always going to Chapel (grandmother would not say ‘church’). I think that she was probably a Church of England but she didn’t practice.
One day when Eric and Annie (mum and dad) were courting, Old Jessie was cleaning dad’s suit and happened to find a Rosary in his pocket. She got them and quickly threw them outside as far as she could into the muddy backyard for the chooks to scratch, all the time yelling “The Popes beads. The Popes toys, toys of the devil I don’t want them in my house”.
I wonder at the fact that at forty grandma walked on two walking sticks and whether the pain contributed to her continual bad humour?
Grandma was always a wonderful cook and housekeeper. At the end of the big kitchen table she kept a large tin of soda biscuits, together with a large bucket of cold well-water and a tin mug, to whet the appetites of the hordes of hungry grandchildren that this old couple gathered around them.
Grandma was also the teller of the best Ghost stories you would ever wish to hear. When her children were small Grandma often went weeks at a time alone (while grandfather was away with teams working) with just the children to keep her company through the long days and nights.
Their home was a big place and the long front verandah was facing the new railway line, which was no more than a hundred feet away from the front gate. In between that was the main road to Tamworth, and it was no more than twenty feet from the front yard.
The front fence was the usual white picket fence, with honeysuckle growing from the side fence through the front yard. The garden beds were the usual beer bottle pushed into the ground neck first to form a square or a fancy pattern. There were no lawns in those days but the yards were swept every morning and if water was available it was splashed on the ground to settle the dust. Tiny white and yellow stones were also used to cover the front footpath.
On the verandah were two single beds, one on each end, under the windows. They were always well made, very hard and seldom used. There were also a couple of cane chairs with pretty cushions.
The front door opened onto the hall, and on the right was Grandma and Grandpa’s bedroom. It had a very high bed with two mattresses made of horse hair and striped ticking and a long bolster. The bed was made every day, not just pulled together like we do now. On the top of the bed was a big white Marcella quilt with thick fringes that reached the floor. There was a commode chair, but the chamber pot was kept mainly under the bed. There was also a very tall wardrobe and a lowboy, which was rather tall as well, and always had interesting looking things on top like little glass dishes containing silver dress studs, tie pins, a pretty man’s ring and coins including a few gold sovereigns. This was very interesting to a small child.
Grandma’s dressing table was covered with a beautiful starched cloth, she also had glass powder bowls and other dishes that held brooches (she had lots of them, and one with real hair belonging to her dead mother).Other bowls held a pair of jet black beads in a long string, and a pair of her dead baby’s slippers, stiffened in some way and painted silver, and other trinkets.
The room on the left, opposite the parlour was the parlour. I was cold room and hardly ever used. I never in my time as a child saw the open fire place lit but the inside was regularly whitewashed (usually weekly) whether it was needed or not.
Hanging around the room were the family portraits, staring stiffly down from their brown wooden frames. I do not know who they were, but probably from the English and Irish ancestors from back in the old country, or home (England) as they called it.
The chairs were big, stiff, leather, straight-backed and stuffed with horse hair. We were not allowed to go into the room let alone sit on the chairs.
In the middle of the room was a small table and on that table was the FAMILY BIBLE. The one thing we must not do was look in that book. When we used to think that grandma was otherwise occupied, my cousins, sisters and I would take turns in keeping watch while we had a look at it. When we asked mum why grandma would not allow the book opened, mum, being very moral and religious replied “You don’t need to look into that book you never know what you might find”. (Probably some ancestor was born on top of the blankets and not under them). Mum was a very good person and I don’t think she knew what was in it either.
Reader Please Note. Three years after I started this book and forty years after I asked my mother that question, I found today the birth details of my grandfather, grand aunts and uncles and also the marriage date of their parents. There was a shortage of five months in grandfather’s birth. (PP.Born five months after the marriage) The embarrassment must have been acute; if only they could foresee what is happening today with the event of the Pill. When the book passed years later into my father’s hands years later we saw nothing in it to be ashamed of.
There was a Pianola in the parlour which I only ever heard played once. The room also had crochet doilies and very tall, beautiful vases on the mantelpiece. They were a work of art and about two feet tall and hand painted. I often wonder what happened to them as they would be all antiques. I think probably some of my cousins many have them.
The rest of the house had two more bedrooms. They had big double beds and they were lovely and comfortable as long as the persons sleeping in them were of the same weight, otherwise one tended to roll into the middle and took the risk of being smothered.
These rooms too had the usual chamber pot, and the kids who were staying the night had the job of bringing up the slop bucket, and emptying the pots into the bucket, rinsing the post with cold water, and then running the gauntlet with bad tempered rooster that roamed the house yard. Sometimes it was not so bad if someone was with you to chase that bloody rooster with the mop, while you ran full pelt with the half-full bucket bashing and splashing you on the knees. But it was always worth the trouble with the rooster just to stay down at grandmas and to hear the ghost stories.
After leaving the main sleeping area of the house you walked down one side verandah (there were verandahs on both sides) to the living quarters of the house. These consisted of a living/dining room, kitchen and a pantry off the kitchen.
The side verandah had an enclosed wire fence on both sides. One side had a little gate that opened into a little garden where grandma kept her pot plants. The plants were kept in containers that were originally jam or honey tins, and these were cut with sharp instruments to make curls and whirls in the tins to make them into very fancy containers. They were painted with red and green paint and were quite effective.
In this garden there also grew a grapevine and while one of our sisters kept night watch for grandma, the other would sneak in and pinch grapes. They were always sour and not worth the trouble of being caught.
The first door off this verandah opened into the living/dining room. This was the biggest room and was where the famous card games were played and the meals were eaten. The room was mainly taken up by the biggest table I have ever seen. On the other side, near the wall were a sofa and three chairs. This was where as many grandchildren that could be fitted or piled in, sat. The table end was butted against the window and only pulled out at Christmas time. The other side was filled with five chairs for the adults. Grandma sat at the end opposite the window.
There was always of collection of beautiful hand-painted china lamps. I am sure that one of the lamps was a Wedgewood as even now I can still see the pale blue glass with the white figure of a boy, chasing a cloud. Even the candle holders were pretty and we had fun when we were sleeping down there in the holidays. We always wasted the candles by holding them sideways and dropping the hot wax on our hands, and making pretty designs on paper.
There were two sideboards. One was a tall looking piece of furniture and not very outstanding. They were loaded with the most beautiful collection of dishes that I have ever seen. There were dainty white, fine china cups with saucers that you could see through. They had hand-painted pink roses and real gold around the rims. There were cheese dishes made of the same china, a little gold painted jug, with a very rough texture and a yellow handle. It came out from England with the family in 1857 I now have it in my home – it is about 150 years old. (Susanne has it PP)
The next door off the verandah was the kitchen. It was a dark room that did not intrigue me at all. It had a stove (which was of no importance to me) and an open fire place which I loved. Over the fireplace hung a big fountain and a big black cast iron pot which used to sing and hum. Also above the open fire place was a grandfather clock about two feet high that tick tocked, tick tocked all through the night. This fire seemed to be burning most of the time, even is summer and I think a lot of the family cooking was done on this fire.
It was in front of this fire that all the ghost stories were told. At first it was my father, uncles and aunts that heard these stories on the long lonely winter nights by the open fire. Grandma sat with her darning (usually socks) on her lap and the children sitting at her feet. She told them the stories of Fisher’s ghost and about the Headless Horseman riding through the cemetery at midnight.
Because they had heard some of the stories over and over the younger ones would nod off to sleep and leaning against grandma’s leg they would doze away undetected until she realised they were asleep so then she would tap them on the head with her thimble thus waking them up. She would not allow them to go to bed until she had finished here darning. Dad told us later that grandma was very thrifty and would not throw anything away; she always mended the same garment or sock over and over again. I often wondered who the ghost stories frightened the most – the children or grandma. I think perhaps she was too frightened to let the children go to bed and leave her with her own thoughts and fears.
I remember when we were young (we lived closer to town) it was a big thrill to go to grandma’s for a couple of days in the school holidays. That is when she used to tell us the ghost stories. I remember we would not need the thimble to keep us awake because we were hearing these tales for the first time. Our hair would curl and when it was time to go to bed nobody wanted to go, and when we did we all had pretty shaky candles to hold and all fought to hold onto grandma’s apron strings on the way out of the kitchen door. Because we had to walk up a passage opening out to the garden, usually it wouldn’t be one by one but a bunch of scared kids bunched in the doorway. When we got to bed it was always a fight to see who slept in the middle of the big feather mattress double bed, usually there would be three but if it was very creepy story the remaining single bed would go unslept in and there would be all four of us in together.
One story we were told, and it was true, about our grandparents, my favourite aunty, her husband and two baby daughters. It was a very hot night and the family had been to what was either the first ‘talkies’ or the pictures. When they came home they decided to have supper so they put the little girl in a bed on the front verandah and the baby in a cot, also on the verandah. Grandfather also went to bed. Grandma, aunt and uncle went to the kitchen to eat.
After a while all was quiet and grandfather was nearly asleep when he heard a noise; a gentle step. He sat up quietly and saw a man on the verandah. The man walked up to the bed and looked at the little girl, and then he went quietly down to the other end of the verandah, then back again to the little girl. He then went back to the baby and gently lifted the covers and began to pick her up. He was about to straighten up and walk away when grandfather called out. Of course the intruder dropped the baby and ran. They gave chase but never caught him. They did not find out any more about that man, but thank goodness grandfather did not want his cup of tea that night.
One day when Eric and Annie (mum and dad) were courting, Old Jessie was cleaning dad’s suit and happened to find a Rosary in his pocket. She got them and quickly threw them outside as far as she could into the muddy backyard for the chooks to scratch, all the time yelling “The Popes beads. The Popes toys, toys of the devil I don’t want them in my house”.
I wonder at the fact that at forty grandma walked on two walking sticks and whether the pain contributed to her continual bad humour?
Grandma was always a wonderful cook and housekeeper. At the end of the big kitchen table she kept a large tin of soda biscuits, together with a large bucket of cold well-water and a tin mug, to whet the appetites of the hordes of hungry grandchildren that this old couple gathered around them.
Grandma was also the teller of the best Ghost stories you would ever wish to hear. When her children were small Grandma often went weeks at a time alone (while grandfather was away with teams working) with just the children to keep her company through the long days and nights.
Their home was a big place and the long front verandah was facing the new railway line, which was no more than a hundred feet away from the front gate. In between that was the main road to Tamworth, and it was no more than twenty feet from the front yard.
The front fence was the usual white picket fence, with honeysuckle growing from the side fence through the front yard. The garden beds were the usual beer bottle pushed into the ground neck first to form a square or a fancy pattern. There were no lawns in those days but the yards were swept every morning and if water was available it was splashed on the ground to settle the dust. Tiny white and yellow stones were also used to cover the front footpath.
On the verandah were two single beds, one on each end, under the windows. They were always well made, very hard and seldom used. There were also a couple of cane chairs with pretty cushions.
The front door opened onto the hall, and on the right was Grandma and Grandpa’s bedroom. It had a very high bed with two mattresses made of horse hair and striped ticking and a long bolster. The bed was made every day, not just pulled together like we do now. On the top of the bed was a big white Marcella quilt with thick fringes that reached the floor. There was a commode chair, but the chamber pot was kept mainly under the bed. There was also a very tall wardrobe and a lowboy, which was rather tall as well, and always had interesting looking things on top like little glass dishes containing silver dress studs, tie pins, a pretty man’s ring and coins including a few gold sovereigns. This was very interesting to a small child.
Grandma’s dressing table was covered with a beautiful starched cloth, she also had glass powder bowls and other dishes that held brooches (she had lots of them, and one with real hair belonging to her dead mother).Other bowls held a pair of jet black beads in a long string, and a pair of her dead baby’s slippers, stiffened in some way and painted silver, and other trinkets.
The room on the left, opposite the parlour was the parlour. I was cold room and hardly ever used. I never in my time as a child saw the open fire place lit but the inside was regularly whitewashed (usually weekly) whether it was needed or not.
Hanging around the room were the family portraits, staring stiffly down from their brown wooden frames. I do not know who they were, but probably from the English and Irish ancestors from back in the old country, or home (England) as they called it.
The chairs were big, stiff, leather, straight-backed and stuffed with horse hair. We were not allowed to go into the room let alone sit on the chairs.
In the middle of the room was a small table and on that table was the FAMILY BIBLE. The one thing we must not do was look in that book. When we used to think that grandma was otherwise occupied, my cousins, sisters and I would take turns in keeping watch while we had a look at it. When we asked mum why grandma would not allow the book opened, mum, being very moral and religious replied “You don’t need to look into that book you never know what you might find”. (Probably some ancestor was born on top of the blankets and not under them). Mum was a very good person and I don’t think she knew what was in it either.
Reader Please Note. Three years after I started this book and forty years after I asked my mother that question, I found today the birth details of my grandfather, grand aunts and uncles and also the marriage date of their parents. There was a shortage of five months in grandfather’s birth. (PP.Born five months after the marriage) The embarrassment must have been acute; if only they could foresee what is happening today with the event of the Pill. When the book passed years later into my father’s hands years later we saw nothing in it to be ashamed of.
There was a Pianola in the parlour which I only ever heard played once. The room also had crochet doilies and very tall, beautiful vases on the mantelpiece. They were a work of art and about two feet tall and hand painted. I often wonder what happened to them as they would be all antiques. I think probably some of my cousins many have them.
The rest of the house had two more bedrooms. They had big double beds and they were lovely and comfortable as long as the persons sleeping in them were of the same weight, otherwise one tended to roll into the middle and took the risk of being smothered.
These rooms too had the usual chamber pot, and the kids who were staying the night had the job of bringing up the slop bucket, and emptying the pots into the bucket, rinsing the post with cold water, and then running the gauntlet with bad tempered rooster that roamed the house yard. Sometimes it was not so bad if someone was with you to chase that bloody rooster with the mop, while you ran full pelt with the half-full bucket bashing and splashing you on the knees. But it was always worth the trouble with the rooster just to stay down at grandmas and to hear the ghost stories.
After leaving the main sleeping area of the house you walked down one side verandah (there were verandahs on both sides) to the living quarters of the house. These consisted of a living/dining room, kitchen and a pantry off the kitchen.
The side verandah had an enclosed wire fence on both sides. One side had a little gate that opened into a little garden where grandma kept her pot plants. The plants were kept in containers that were originally jam or honey tins, and these were cut with sharp instruments to make curls and whirls in the tins to make them into very fancy containers. They were painted with red and green paint and were quite effective.
In this garden there also grew a grapevine and while one of our sisters kept night watch for grandma, the other would sneak in and pinch grapes. They were always sour and not worth the trouble of being caught.
The first door off this verandah opened into the living/dining room. This was the biggest room and was where the famous card games were played and the meals were eaten. The room was mainly taken up by the biggest table I have ever seen. On the other side, near the wall were a sofa and three chairs. This was where as many grandchildren that could be fitted or piled in, sat. The table end was butted against the window and only pulled out at Christmas time. The other side was filled with five chairs for the adults. Grandma sat at the end opposite the window.
There was always of collection of beautiful hand-painted china lamps. I am sure that one of the lamps was a Wedgewood as even now I can still see the pale blue glass with the white figure of a boy, chasing a cloud. Even the candle holders were pretty and we had fun when we were sleeping down there in the holidays. We always wasted the candles by holding them sideways and dropping the hot wax on our hands, and making pretty designs on paper.
There were two sideboards. One was a tall looking piece of furniture and not very outstanding. They were loaded with the most beautiful collection of dishes that I have ever seen. There were dainty white, fine china cups with saucers that you could see through. They had hand-painted pink roses and real gold around the rims. There were cheese dishes made of the same china, a little gold painted jug, with a very rough texture and a yellow handle. It came out from England with the family in 1857 I now have it in my home – it is about 150 years old. (Susanne has it PP)
The next door off the verandah was the kitchen. It was a dark room that did not intrigue me at all. It had a stove (which was of no importance to me) and an open fire place which I loved. Over the fireplace hung a big fountain and a big black cast iron pot which used to sing and hum. Also above the open fire place was a grandfather clock about two feet high that tick tocked, tick tocked all through the night. This fire seemed to be burning most of the time, even is summer and I think a lot of the family cooking was done on this fire.
It was in front of this fire that all the ghost stories were told. At first it was my father, uncles and aunts that heard these stories on the long lonely winter nights by the open fire. Grandma sat with her darning (usually socks) on her lap and the children sitting at her feet. She told them the stories of Fisher’s ghost and about the Headless Horseman riding through the cemetery at midnight.
Because they had heard some of the stories over and over the younger ones would nod off to sleep and leaning against grandma’s leg they would doze away undetected until she realised they were asleep so then she would tap them on the head with her thimble thus waking them up. She would not allow them to go to bed until she had finished here darning. Dad told us later that grandma was very thrifty and would not throw anything away; she always mended the same garment or sock over and over again. I often wondered who the ghost stories frightened the most – the children or grandma. I think perhaps she was too frightened to let the children go to bed and leave her with her own thoughts and fears.
I remember when we were young (we lived closer to town) it was a big thrill to go to grandma’s for a couple of days in the school holidays. That is when she used to tell us the ghost stories. I remember we would not need the thimble to keep us awake because we were hearing these tales for the first time. Our hair would curl and when it was time to go to bed nobody wanted to go, and when we did we all had pretty shaky candles to hold and all fought to hold onto grandma’s apron strings on the way out of the kitchen door. Because we had to walk up a passage opening out to the garden, usually it wouldn’t be one by one but a bunch of scared kids bunched in the doorway. When we got to bed it was always a fight to see who slept in the middle of the big feather mattress double bed, usually there would be three but if it was very creepy story the remaining single bed would go unslept in and there would be all four of us in together.
One story we were told, and it was true, about our grandparents, my favourite aunty, her husband and two baby daughters. It was a very hot night and the family had been to what was either the first ‘talkies’ or the pictures. When they came home they decided to have supper so they put the little girl in a bed on the front verandah and the baby in a cot, also on the verandah. Grandfather also went to bed. Grandma, aunt and uncle went to the kitchen to eat.
After a while all was quiet and grandfather was nearly asleep when he heard a noise; a gentle step. He sat up quietly and saw a man on the verandah. The man walked up to the bed and looked at the little girl, and then he went quietly down to the other end of the verandah, then back again to the little girl. He then went back to the baby and gently lifted the covers and began to pick her up. He was about to straighten up and walk away when grandfather called out. Of course the intruder dropped the baby and ran. They gave chase but never caught him. They did not find out any more about that man, but thank goodness grandfather did not want his cup of tea that night.