THIS IS FINDON VILLAGE — www.findonvillage.com created by Valerie Martin, contains scenes from her home village of Findon, West Sussex, U.K.

OLD BILLY BROWN AND THE PET GOOSE

Copyright Valerie Martin 1999

Many people like myself noticed renovations taking place at the old forge in Findon during the summer of 1998. The building was eventually converted into a modern wine bar.

Over a century ago the blacksmith was William Charles Brown — one of my favourite characters at the smithy. His grandmother, Martha Brown, owned the forge and lived into her eighties with her family at the forge premises. His father was James Brown (born 1817) and his mother was Mary Verral Dunford. They were married in Findon on Christmas Day in 1840 and William Charles was born at the smithy on 11th July 1841.

In later years he lived there with his wife, Anne, a girl from Storrington. They resided in a cottage adjoining the Forge, which will be remembered as later becoming a cycle shop. Horses stood quietly in Nepcote Lane whilst he shod them, measuring with his expert eye exactly where to drive the next nail. He was a familiar sight wearing a large old leather apron and attired in a high crowned hat from which he never parted.

Walter's brother, Alf, is best remembered for being seen to fetch water from the village well. He delivered two full buckets using a wooden yoke over his shoulders. Edward John, known to all as "Ted", was destined to be assistant smith under his father, who by this time had become known as "Old Billy Brown" to the locals. By 1909, Ted had completely taken over the heavy work as blacksmith.

The goose adored its master,  Old Billy Brown, and faithfully followed him everywhere he went. The old man never tired of talking about his amazing gander’s wonderful intelligence. The bird’s best-loved food was a juicy fresh apple, and Old Billy Brown always had one ready and waiting in his pocket on Sundays when man and goose took their constitutional walk around the village roads.

It is apparent that the bird could be cantankerous on occasions. It was reported that before the First World War a disagreeable old gander in Nepcote Lane terrified many passers-by.  One day George Winton, from the stores in the Square, was walking along the road with his young son Harold. The goose was obviously suffering from an off day and proceeded towards the lad in a threatening manner. The surprised boy stepped back just in time. His father grabbed the beak of the offender and it is reputed, swung the attacking goose to the side.

One day Old Billy Brown became ill. The days went by and he grew more infirm and frail. The loyal and constant pet kept a faithful vigil at his bedside in the cottage next to the forge. The poorly blacksmith was insistent that the gander should not be removed from the bedroom. Despite his protests, the bird was occasionally shooed out with much hissing and flapping of indignant wings. This inevitably resulted in a relapse in the blacksmith’s health and the bird, which had been hovering outside the door, was eventually allowed to return to the sick bed.

Sadly, the blacksmith did eventually die, and his coffin was reverently carried from the village centre to St. John the Baptist Church, followed steadfastly by the comfortless goose and the rest of the Brown family. After the service, Old Billy Brown was buried in the far west of the adjoining churchyard in the shadow of the Church Hill woods. The mourners departed — leaving the forsaken gander standing at the pile of fresh earth.

The barman from the Gun Inn felt sorry for the bird and later found enough time to return to the churchyard and carried the protesting creature all the way back to the village.

The next morning, the gander was noticed to be missing from the forge area. An immediate search party went out to look for him at his usual haunts.  Old Pond Green was deserted. The helpful barman of the Gun Inn had an idea, and walked the half-mile to the churchyard again. There he saw the abandoned gander standing miserably on one leg at the far end of the graveyard beside the freshly filled in grave, his wings drooping forlornly and bereft of energy. Even the temptation of his usual favourite appetiser, a rosy apple, failed to interest him. Once again, the concerned barman transferred the heavy bird back to the forge once again.

For the next few days the disconsolate goose constantly travelled the half a mile to the churchyard. He grew so weak that in the end he could hardly waddle to and fro, and one dreadful cheerless day he was discovered dead on the floor in the blacksmith’s shop. The same mourners who had gathered sorrowfully around his master’s graveside only weeks earlier gave this well-known village figure a suitable burial.

Old Billy Brown’s grave in the churchyard, together with that of his wife Anne, was later furnished with a tablet memorial and neat iron railings. The young Fred Goddard who was now employed at the smithy, (the blacksmith many of today’s villagers will remember), forged the railings.

During the 1930s, Old Billy Brown’s son, Ernest Walter, continued the cycle business, which was situated, in his father’s cottage next to the forge. He put Findon on the map amongst the cycling fraternity when he designed his own cycle and suitably named it the "Findonian". Would-be cyclists of the day wishing to buy the machine had to part with the princely sum of £3. 19s. 0d.

Continue if you would like to read about Three Generations at The Forge.