Starting a business - Buying the business

Billy stopped keeping a diary towards the end of 1899 which brings this record to a close. However, during the 1950s he wrote an account of the next few years of his life when he set up a business in Horsham in partnership with his friend Ted Taylor. It provides an interesting coda to this record of his early working years.
 
The Autumn of 1902 was a very slack time in London in the decorating trade. Neither Taylor or I or Ted Gee could get a start anywhere and decided to part company pro tem and go to our respective homes. The latter, Ted Gee, a native of Stafford, was the son of a well established decorator of that town, at one time a foreman for Grace. Gee the elder suffered from a chronic thirst, was always in financial difficulties. His son once said to me, “The old man had enough writs served on him to paper a town hall” of which he took not the slightest notice. Eventually this sort of thing got him down, he left Stafford and went to Birmingham. It was to Birmingham Ted Gee went after our dissolution and at once got a job with Mitchell and Butler, Cape Hill Brewery, where he stayed many years. Being a first class workman, he got all the best work, eventually becoming foreman in charge of all the decorative work in the many houses belonging to the Brewery Company. I called on him some fifteen years after, found him painting and (sign)writing the firm’s fire engine, one of the best jobs of its kind I have ever seen. He had flatted and rubbed down, varnished and rubbed down the body of the engine and wheels till they were as smooth as glass like the old coach painters work on brougham bodies, then lined the whole in two blues, and written the name of the firm on side panels in well-shaped Roman cap.s gilded and shaded. Cape Hill Brewery Fire Brigade was one of the best of private brigades in the country and were encouraged by the firm to enter competitions all over the place. I saw them in Preston Park, Brighton. They won all the events but were disqualified as the team did not wear standard firemen’s’ uniform boots but light affairs made of kid or the like which enabled the men to run like hares, while we in our standard kit clumped along.
 
Well, Ted Taylor went home to Surbiton and I to Horsham. I soon got a job with my old firm[1]. The grandson of my apprentice master was now head of the firm. He came into the firm as a boy during my apprenticeship. I persuaded him to give my friend Taylor a start which he did on my assuring him he was a first class tradesman. But in a little while he was fired! I was furious and insisted on knowing why. He, the boss, told me he only started Taylor on my recommendation, that he could quite understand my desire to help my friend, but I should have known he was not good enough “for our standard of work”. I got rather hot, told him that Taylor was a far better craftsman than any his firm had ever seen (barring only his late lamented father), that had he been in the business he would have recognised his ability etc. There seemed to be a certain inference in this remark which was noted. Finally, after a few heated exchanges, I told the boss he could go to Hell and take his job with him, that if Taylor was not good enough, I certainly was not, and so we parted, out of work again.
 
The following week I walked to Cowfold, called on Fowlds who I knew. They offered me a start as a plumber but I heard of a job they were doing at Cowfold Vicarage which was giving them rather a headache. The whole of ground floor joinery was in pitch pine, highly varnished and of a lovely “foxy” colour so beloved by Victorians. The new incumbent did not like it but would not have it painted.
 
Cottages and Church, Cowfold, courtesy of West Sussex Past Pictures; Ref: PP/WSL/PC003004; Rep: West Sussex County Council Library Service. Photo Credit.
 

I assured Fowler I and a friend would undertake to remove varnish, semi-bleach and wax polish, leaving the finish like prime Swedish pine, except for the coarse grain. This was really what was wanted. I was allowed to try a sample which was passed then invited to take on the job at a price. This I could not do for, in common with many workmen, I had then given no thought to estimating. Eventually, Fowlers let Taylor and I do the job at the usual rate of 6½d [per hour], they accepting my promise not to “play ’em up”. And so Taylor and I went to and fro daily to Cowfold all the winter and finished the job to the satisfaction of all concerned. About the end of February 1903, the job was drawing to a close and there was a “firing” ceremony expected any Saturday with the prospect of “resting” until the festival of Spring Cleaning. One evening after tea – Taylor was then lodging with my mother – I walked up Park Street and met an old friend standing at the door of his little shop looking rather glum. He had a small picture framing and taxidermist business, the remains of something very much larger. “What cheer, Alf, how goes!”. “Not too good,” sez he. I learnt he was packing up, going on the Prudential as an itinerant agent and selling the good will and occupation of the shop to one David Wickersham[2], or at least he hoped to do so but thought that David would be difficult! Then, for the first time, I thought if Taylor and I could get hold of this little shop and yard, we might get work, not at picture framing, much less taxidermy, knowing not the first thing about either. But it did seem possible, knowing Horsham as I did, we might scratch a living and reprieve ourselves of the bogey of being out of work. All this passed in my mind while talking to Richardson[3], and I told him I would like to have the refusal if Wickersham turned it down, and when could I see him again. “Well, look here, I’m not falling between two stools. David is due to say yes or no at 6 o/c this evening. If he’s not here at 6 I’ll talk to you.”
 
I rushed home, told Taylor of my brain wave. He was mildly amused, seemed to regard it as a product of the larger lunacy, However, I returned to the shop by 5.55 and kept watch on the opposite side of the street … no sign of David … at 6.15 I entered. Richardson agreed to talk. In short, he wanted [and unless he got] £20 for really the right of entry and possession and goodwill for the picture framing and taxidermy, he said he was dead. I managed to find £2 in my pocket, paid this as a deposit, promised the remaining £18 within a week, obtained a signed promise from Richardson not to start again in Horsham and district.
 
Back home to tell Taylor and my old Mother and to think how we could raise £20. However, we did this between us and so “blued” our working capital at one hit. We took over several framing jobs but, alas, neither of us had ever seen a picture frame made but we hardly like to admit our ignorance. We started off by trying to join the mitres with corner cramps and string and took home an armful on our first Saturday night [and] hung them on a line at home to dry over the weekend. On releasing the strings on Monday, they all fell apart! We tried several other methods before Taylor was shown the right and proper way to join a frame by an old frame maker in Surbiton. From then we sailed away and became known for doing a good job in framing, frame carving, gilding etc., employing two men at the job. Our own trade work came very slowly. Our first job was to clean and lime wash the outside WC and urinal at the Hurst Arms. Then we got a job to make some lead lights for a chapel. Handmade lead lights were fast being displaced by factory made. We both could make a good leaded light. The one old man in Horsham famous for the work was getting past it. Incidentally, he was the grandfather of our present foreman joiner. He prophesied a roaring trade without undue competition. We were elated by the prospect, but it was nearly three years before we made another light!
 
We had one bit of good fortune. On a certain Saturday afternoon when everyone was shut, Taylor had gone home to Surbiton, I’m in the shop “booking”, when along comes the butler from Horsham Park in a rare stew.
 
Horsham House and Park 1929, courtesy of West Sussex Past Pictures; Ref: PP/WSL/P001046; Rep: West Sussex County Council Library Service.   
 

Madame has in some unaccountable way got herself locked in the dining room; could I pick a mortise lock? I said I would try and started to fool around with two pieces of wire, hoping against hope for I had never picked a lock but I had worked with an old plumber who was a dab hand at it. I was well known to the dear old lady who was locked in. She asked if I could manage to get her out. I said, I think so. She was relieved. Well, I keep fooling with the lock but to no effect. Presently I asked through the door, would she like to climb out through the window on to a chair if I helped her. She was well over 70 and of a comfortable figure. She replied somewhat tartly, “No, certainly not, Willie!” I then said would she like a cup of tea? “Yes I would. Ask Stringer to pass me one through the window. You have one also, you must be having a tedious job.” I had, but got no for’arder, when suddenly I thought of a large bunch of keys hanging at home, went off on the pretence of getting another tool. About the sixth key turned the lock! I dropped the key in my apron pocket. My Lady was delighted, said I had been a very clever young man, asked to see my bent wires, remarked that the ability to pick a lock was a questionable accomplishment, she was sure I would not use it to evil ends etc., advised me not to talk about my skill. She would give me a better job some day and introduce me to her friends. This promise she well and truly kept, and we are still reaping the benefit from it.

• [1] Sendall Brothers, builders.
• [2] David Wickersham seems to have been the 26 year old son of Elizabeth Wickersham, a widowed blacksmith living in Wickersham Lane, round the back of the Carfax, Horsham (English Census, 1901).
• [3] Alfred Richardson was aged about 33 and living with his family at 5 Norfolk Rd. when he sold the lease of his taxidermy business to Hoad and Taylor (English Census, 1901).
  
  
  
• Part 2 - Starting a business - The taxidermy work
  
  
  

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