This was written by Lilian Smither, a daughter of the Westbrook family in the early 1980s
This was written by Lilian Smither, a daughter of the Westbrook family in the early 1980s
About the year 1895 my grandfather, William
Westbrook, a yeoman farmer, living at Lower Froyle, a small village
in Hampshire, decided it was time that a long outstanding debt was settled,
so he took the law into his own hands. Very early one morning he harnessed
two of his horses to a farm wagon and, accompanied by one of his carters,
set forth. The distance was about 15 miles to a farm in a village of
the neighboring county. The money not being forthcoming, he thereupon
collected goods to the value of the amount owing and commenced the long
trek back home, and so the debt was satisfactorily settled.
When it grew dusk my grandmother, then well
over 70 years of age, became uneasy as grandfather had not returned.
Lighting a hurricane lantern she walked to our house, called for her
son and together they went through the village to the main road. This
village road was very narrow, very rough and in many places trees met
overhead. There was an avenue of trees at the end of the road and even
in the day time it was dark and gloomy. At night the darkness was such
that it could be felt and one could pass other travelers on the road
without seeing them; only their footsteps could be heard.
The main road was a turnpike,
on which tollgates were established by law. There they waited and
listened. They could
hear the horses' hooves upon the road and the rattle of the wagon.
At the cross roads one can imagine the shouting and the “Wooa
Wooa,” as the swinging of the lantern would be a sign that someone
was waiting
for them. Then with grandmother and her lantern in front they all proceeded
through the village street to the home farm.
Among the goods grandfather
collected were four sets of horse bells. These were used on special
occasions and in
1900 at a “Harvest Home” in the village grandfather's four
horses and decorated wagon, complete with horse bells, won first prize.
The bells were fixed to the horses' collars and made sweet music as
they walked. The bells, no doubt, contributed towards the gaining of
the prize. These bells were also used at night to give audible warning
of approach as the farm wagons had no lights.
The years passed, grandmother
and grandfather died and an uncle living in the same village acquired
the horse bells.
They rested in his attic for several years. I paid uncle a visit and
he showed me the bells lying on the floor of the attic covered
in dust,
beside the rotting apples and pears. I admired the old bells but uncle
never so much as lifted them from their dusty bed and I had to
be content
to leave them there. In due course of time uncle died and we of the
family said, “What about the horse bells?” After a
while we learned that auntie had sent them to a Museum in a nearby
town
and
there they rest to this day.
Grandfather's method of settling a debt was
quite unlawful no doubt, even in those far off days, but he avoided
a County Court action and its costs, and one feels that the bells are
quite safe in their last resting place. They will not return to a dusty
attic nor be sold to a scrap iron dealer.
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