MEMOIRS OF RICHARD PYM 1 INDEX: Preface 3 Family Tree 4 Photographs 5-8 Chapter 1 – Early Memories 1909-1927 9-27 Chapter 2 – South Africa 1927-1929 28-33 Chapter 3 – Australia 1929-1934 34-46 Chapter 4 – Back to England 1934-1993 47-74 2 PREFACE During the rather wet English summer of 1991 I finally persuaded my Father to write these Memoirs by making the point that his story though it seemed simple and unremarkable to him, would be of great interest to his children, grandchildren and to those who followed. At the time he was staying with my brother Richard (Rick) and his family back at Beehive Farm the house in which he was born. (My sisters Judy and Marti and I were also born at Beehive but my Mother went “modern” for the youngest, Rick, who was born in Wellington Hospital). Dad’s intention was to write a fourth chapter to cover the time from his return to England from Australia in 1934 to the end of the War Years. However following a period of sickness and confinement he recovered so well that he once again set up house on his own in the village of Buckland St. Mary later in 1991 and entered a time of considerable activity socialising and gardening and greatly enjoying life. At the time of writing he is still doing so and is about to come to Australia on what I think must be his seventh visit since I came to live here in 1962. I want to give him these Memoirs in this typed-up version for his 83rd birthday though of course I still hope the fourth chapter may materialise. When he sent back the final version of the manuscript early in 1992 he wrote: “I’m not sure that it’s an interesting story though I do feel that I have lived in an interesting age seeing so many changes from the horse to the mechanical and now the highly technological age. Somehow I haven’t got down to writing anything further but will endeavour to get down to it soon. I certainly have the time so must motivate myself, but you will know most of it anyway …” So I may but his grandchildren don’t, so I still hope it may be added later. Jan Wyles Armidale NSW November 1992 Postscript: November 1994 – Am pleased to say that the 4th chapter did materialise following a visit to Australia in November / December 1992 with his good friend Linda Manley. It has taken a lot of editing since Dad interspersed many additions to previous chapters. However have it ready for the visit Graham and I plan to make to the U.K. in Christmas 1994 as a late recognition of his 85th birthday. Our second daughter Libby is on a working holiday in Europe at present and Dad is delighted to have one of his Aussie grandchildren visiting. Readers are reminded that since this was written at my request some of it reads as though addressed to me and therefore memories of visits to Australia and time spent with us take particular prominence. 3 “Clippings” from the Family Tree Henry Pym m. Elizabeth Shire m. Albert Cottey James Hoare m. Ivy Matthews Richard (Dick) Henry Clifford Phyllis James Kathleen (Kitty) Ivy John Richard Dennis Evelyn Mary Mildred Hubert b.1909 b.1908 Judith (Judy) Ann b.1938 Janet (Jan) Elizabeth b.1941 Margaret (Marti) Jean b.1943 Richard (Rick) William b.1945 m. Richard Willy m. Graham Wyles m. John Spencer m. Jennifer Blackmore Sarah Emma Lucy Stephen Catherine Elizabeth Richard Polly Amy Luke Emily James b.1960 b.1962 b.1968 b.1968 b.1969 b.1971 b.1975 b.1973 twins b.1975 b.1977 b.1979 d.1978 4 Birthplace of the Author Beehive Farm in the village of Buckland St. Mary County of Somerset, England Beehive Farm: this farm, situated on the road to Neroche behind the village, has an interesting sculpture under the roof. It is a beehive, below which is the head of a man, and below that is a swirl of leaves with the date 1849 in the middle and the initials W.G. On asking the lady of the house what it all meant, she said at the time the church at Buckland St Mary was in the process of being built, the stone masons who carved all the figures stayed at this farm. The amount of carving work involved in the church meant it took years to build, and 1863 was when it was finished and consecrated. The head stone mason was William Grace and in their spare time they carved these creations and placed them in their present position. Parts of the house date back to the middle ages. The lady did not know why thefarm was called Beehive, but when I learned the approximate age I thought that it was because many farms in the Middle Ages kept bees, as the honey was much in demand, as a sweetener and for mead, the wax for candles. The chimneys are very interesting and unique and well worth a look. 5 Arthur’s father – Henry Pym Arthur’s mother – Elizabeth Pym (née Shire) later Elizabeth (Bessie) Cottey 6 The author Richard Pym aged 23 years Kathleen Ivy Pym (Kitty) née Hoare taken in Murwillumbah NSW 1933 1908 – 1983 7 The author Richard Pym with his mother Elizabeth (Bessie) and younger brother Henry The author Richard (Dick) Pym and wife Kathleen (Kitty) in the garden of Harry and Joan Wyles, St Ives, Sydney, New South Wales, 1978 In the garden at Beehive 1960 8 MEMOIRS OF RICHARD PYM born 22nd November 1909 Written in July 1991 at Beehive Farm, Buckland St. Mary, Near Chard, Somerset, England. CHAPTER 1 – Early Memories till age of 18 years – 1909-1927 I am sitting here in my bed-sitter at the age of 81 in the room next to that in which I was born. It is said that with old age one can often remember the events of one’s youth better than those of last week. That is debatable, but I do feel that one tends to look back and think of youthful memories and often compare them with modern times. The room where I am sitting has a bit of history. It was not originally included with the remainder of the house but was used as a separate unit. William Grant, who built this house for himself was a stonemason and access to this room was obtained by separate stone steps from the outside. He kept this room specially for his mistress – suppose that would have been one of the few forms of entertainment back in those days. In later years my Father, who played the fiddle among other musical instruments, used to hold dancing classes here. Apparently my old Dad fiddled and Mother instructed. In those days they danced the Quadrille, Lancers, Waltz, Polka etc. Somehow they contrived to get two sets of Lancers comprising 4 couples each – must have been a squash in this room which is wedge- shaped and only measures 16 ft in length and about 12ft at one end and 7ft at the other. Shouldn’t think they would have charged more than twopence a head, but every penny counted in those days when the standard of living was low. I’m told one dancer fell from the top step into Father’s large pig tub below which was full of swill (mixed barley meal) soaking for the next pig feed. My Earliest Memories till age 10 when Father died 1909-1919 Our farm was known as a Small Holding with 11 acres of land. Somehow my father had made a living on this small unit by keeping pigs and fattening them. 3 or 4 cows were kept and by means of buying grass keep around the area he managed to keep a flock of sheep of 70 to 80 which he lambed selling the lambs fat and shearing for wool. He kept a few free range chooks with eggs as a main part of our diet. The food was fairly basic and mainly home-produced with rabbits plus pork and very fat bacon. All farmers, smallholders and cottagers kept a pig to kill for the house. The pig would have been twice the present normal size for slaughter and therefore very fat and greasy. It was all cured by salting and placing on hooks in the wide open chimney, so big hams, fat pork and extremely fat bacon was a great part of our diet. 9 My father Henry Pym was born in 1857, the youngest of a family of five children. He was 50 years old when he married my mother who was 24. He was rather lame with rheumatics and though I remember him as a strict disciplinarian ithw my younger brother Henry and myself, he found it difficult to catch us. However he walkedith w a stick and had an unerring aim when he threw it at us and seldom missed! Nevertheless I remember him as someone with a good sense of humour though I can remember no-one else I have met in my life who was more thrifty. We were taught from an early age how to handle money and never to overspend. If we were given a few coppers when going on an outing we were told always to bring something back even if only a halfpenny. His motto was to “make do and mend” or in his case “cobble” as he never seemed to have many tools: a hook, hatchet and saw and certainly a scythe which he was a dab hand at using.