A Family History of the Illustrious, Notorious and Eccentric Lloyds of Birmingham, Brigstock and Pipewell Hall - Flipbook - Page 121
which his father replied, "Twelve pounds be damned, I9ve bought that suit four times already, I9m not
buying it a fifth time", So Pen was in the most frightful financial difficulties. However, his father was a
very kind-hearted old chap and he helped Pen out in the end when he explained the circumstances to
him.
The Sporting Undertaker
Uncle Pen was once an undertaker, which will no doubt surprise you. It happened in this way. In 1928
he was hunting with the Woodland Pytchley, and we had hunting with us a sporting undertaker. He was
a great chap, he had a splendid black horse that used to jump like a stag. He would hunt, owing to his
trade, usually two days a week, and bury people on the other days. Well the trade in 1928 was extremely
bad. Nobody was dying and he was very short of cash, and, unfortunately, one day his horse broke its'
leg, and Smithy had to be put down. So Pen's older brother said to him, "We can't have old Jack going
broke, let's buy him a new horse." They clubbed together, and bought him a splendid horse for £75. It
was a good hunter, and he continued his hunting until early in 1929, when there was a severe outbreak
of flu, and people started to die like flies. Well the poor fellow had to give up hunting as this epidemic
went on until April, so he had a bad season. Then, a most terrible thing happened. His horse got colic
and died. He, having made plenty of money during the flu epidemic, was able to purchase a
replacement, and pay back the £75. So Pen and his brother gave up being undertakers!
Foxon and the Hunting Breeches
Uncle Pen had a butler called Foxon who was with them for 16 years. Before that, amongst other posts,
he was first footman to Lord Furness at Borough Court. This story relates to about 1930. At that time it
was very fashionable when hunting to wear buckskin breeches, and they had to be cleaned after hunting
with a paste to make them white. One of Foxon's duties was to do the hunting clothes. He was an
extremely good valet, and, of course, he had to make the breeches paste and apply it. This paste was
was made in a room at the very bottom of the house, below ground level with no lights, and there was
an enormous cauldron in which to do the mixing. To give him light he had two fat candles, one on each
side of the cauldron, stuck on to its rim. The drill was to put the paste in the cauldron and mix it with
water and stir and stir and stir.
Unfortunately, he had just got the paste to the right consistency when his elbow caught one of the
candles, and knocked it into the paste, whereupon he lost his temper, and hit the other candle, knocking
it into the paste as well. He was so angry by then, being in the dark, that he said, "Damn this, I9ll keep
on stirring," and he stirred until all the candle had been mixed in with the paste. He did not tell anyone
and the breeches came out a most beautiful shiny white. A couple of days later these breeches were put
out ready to be worn for hunting, and when the guests came down to breakfast, they were most
