James "Jim" Copper, 1882 -1954

Born at Pear Tree Cottage in the village of Ovingdean, just over the hill on the Brighton side of Rottingdean in June 1882, Jim was second son of James "Brasser" Copper and his wife Frances Emily. They had been wed in 1873 at Rottingdean Church, and now aged 36 James senior was a carter employed by Mr Steyning Beard of Ovingdean.

Steyning and his brother George had inherited from their uncle Charles most of the farms and farmland in Rottingdean, Ovingdean and nearby Telscombe.

1882 also saw the passing of George Beard who left his share of the family legacy to brother Steyning, making him landlord of numerous farms in the area and about 3000 acres of farmland.

Jim briefly went to school at the one-roomed Ovingdean village school but soon after, his father was given the job of Farm Bailiff and the family moved to Challoners Cottages Rottingdean so as to be near "head office". It was to remain the family home for 85 years.

From 1884 the Rottingdean farms were run for the Beards by Mr William Brown, resident in Challoners Manor, a Georgian-style country house originally dating from the fifteenth century which dominated the upper, or northerly part of the village.

Jim resumed his education at the village C of E school leaving at Christmas 1893, age 11.

The local farms were predominantly devoted to sheep. There were six separate flocks each of about 500 animals, and young Jim was put on to work with John Henty, Head Shepherd. He endured the life of shepherd boy for three years.

This lonely and unrewarding existence did not suit the spirited teenager "The old shepherd, he don't say much, only swear at ye."

Eventually Brasser gave in to his son's requests and sent Jim back down to the farm as carter-boy with Bill Reid, "Oistup" to his peers on account of an unfortunate affliction necessitating the periodic 'hoisting up' of one side of his face! Here, amongst other skills Jim learnt how to plough with horses.

For a brief interlude he also worked with Luke Hillman ploughing with a team of 8 oxen. They were yoked up in pairs and it needed all eight to pull a single furrow plough. This was precisely the same set-up employed by Sussex ploughmen a thousand years previously.

Jim's break came when he was sent to assist Ben Hilton, a skilled carpenter and wheelwright, working the steam engine and threshing machine.

Amongst the family heirlooms we have a very nicely executed line drawing of a steam traction engine, signed by Jim and dated 1896. This was state of the art technology at the time (in Rottingdean at least), and it clearly captured his imagination. He worked with Ben for many years.

As he was later to recall, by the time he was 18 he was a pretty handy sort of chap. Accomplished in most of the various farm tasks and with a strong aptitude towards the mechanical, he was also blessed with a phenomenal memory. Even in old age Jim could recite all the various dimensions and minutiae of the implements and machines that he had learnt to restore and repair. An ideal attribute for a folk singer.

With a father like Brasser, not to mention Uncle Tommy at the Black Horse, it's small wonder that Jim took to music. The old songs so beloved of the family were soon supplemented with music-hall numbers and other contemporary music. Jim played a penny whistle to some effect, and - with a rather individual style - the clarinet. He always maintained that he would have managed to play the ubiquitous piano, had not his fingers been too massive to strike one note at a time!

Jim also enhanced the family harmonies decorating the melodies with his resonant bass runs, which was to prove a powerful inspiration to later Coppers.

He had the rare ability to construct harmonies completely unaided. Explaining to son Bob he said, "I can sort of 'ear you singing in the background," while experimenting with a new sequence of notes.

Lively and witty, Jim was very often the focal point at a gathering, whether in hayfield, workshop or taproom. Although very often short of ready cash, he was ever popular amongst his fellow carousers, and was regularly treated to "singing beer" down in the pub. A couple of pennies was enough for a "latch-lifter", and then it was often "every song a drink" till closing time.

Jim was favourite company for a wide variety of friends and family, a great raconteur and full of fun. These qualities helped him to forge deep bonds, not only with his working and drinking pals, but within the family as well. After a particularly riotous Saturday night spent down the "Black-un" he embraced Bob with, "Cor bugger boy, I sometimes wish you'd been my brother, instead of my son, and then I'd ha' known ye longer!"

With the coming of the Great War and its deprivations, and the changes wrought by mechanisation, many of the agricultural skills that Jim had mastered became obsolete. Bailiff of the sprawling farms by 1915, he commanded an empire in decline. After the death of Steyning Beard in 1909 all that family's interests, after 400 years of careful husbandry in the Rottingdean area, were systematically sold off. Much of it had been mortgaged to fund his country-squire lifestyle.

The first farm tractor at Rottingdean was an International "Titan" acquired in 1919. It was a great heavy lumbering monster and bore a close resemblance to the steam engines that it had usurped. Jim was its first driver. He kept careful accounts of its first year; every pint of oil, gallon of paraffin and pound of grease as well as crops, seeds and raw materials, hours worked and break-down time. It proved cheaper to run than horses.

During the 1920s the fortunes of the Rottingdean farms continued to decline. Gradually the buildings and land were sold off for development. Jim wrote, "Now its houses, houses, houses on the land we used to plough. I don't like it, it makes me prostrate with dismal."

Eventually he got paid off and, although he was allowed to stay in the farm cottage at a modest rent, there was no more money coming in.

Ever resourceful, Jim turned his energies to carpentry, delivering papers and milk and even emptying cesspits with his own home-made pump contraption.

Eventually he took the job of site blacksmith and carpenter on the Sea Defence Project. This at the time was the largest concreting contract in Britain, constructing a sea wall from Brighton to Rottingdean. He built and ran a small forge to sharpen and temper the various digging tools used by the navvies, and constructed the moulds for the huge piano shaped coping blocks which were placed along the top of the wall. Son Bob, now sixteen, was employed on the same project as tea-boy - to 200 labourers!

Ever industrious, Jim's evenings were spent making models in both metal and wood (often oak), tinkering with early wireless sets, and rebuilding old clocks. He also mended boots and shoes and was an accomplished knitter, making among other garments gloves and mittens.

The old ways were fast disappearing. Jim wrote, "There's only one thing that doesn't change round these parts, and that's our old songs."

In 1936 he set down the words to eighty or so of his favourites, all from memory, including all the lovely old songs handed down by Brasser, in a ledger book salvaged from his days in the farm office. He dedicated it to his daughter, Frances Joyce (b.1910) and son Bob (b.1915) - "Topsy" and "Trooper".

Jim was acutely aware that without a substantial effort on his part many of these priceless treasures would be lost.

By the end of the 1930s both offspring had flown the nest. Bob was a policeman out in West Sussex, and Joyce working in London. Both made regular visits back home whenever time allowed.

Somehow Jim managed to make ends meet. There was an influx of newcomers to the area and they boosted demand in all kinds of services. Jim was a very useful contact for anyone requiring skilled work. Having such a wide array of acquaintances, many from the old days on the farm, he could either take on the job himself, or find someone to fit the bill.

There is an old saying from the time, "If you go into a pub, you can always do a deal with a man." It probably goes back to the market day meetings when all the important business was conducted in the nearest inn. Jim was living proof of its continuing efficacy!

Older brother John lived a short distance away up the Falmer Road. He had been Head Shepherd in the old days, and continued to do jobbing work for nearby farmers. Like Jim, he was a good singer, and the two men liked nothing better than to get together in their spare time and sing the old songs, John usually taking the lead, or treble, and Jim the bass.

John's son Walter Ronald Copper, "Ron", a carpenter by trade, also took to the family tradition and as a bonus had a deep resonant bass voice. He learnt his harmonies from Jim. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, especially at Christmas time, Jim, John, Bob and Ron sung together.

At this time, however, there was very little interest in the old songs outside the family. Everyone wanted the new popular songs that they heard on the wireless or gramophone.

Wartime brought its own disruptions and challenges, but the family continued in close contact. The Canadian Army was much in evidence in the area, and Jim was looked after very well by some of the NCO's, especially the Quartermaster, in exchange for services rendered. As they say, it's an ill wind!

After the war Bob was in nearby Peacehaven running his wife's father's social club. Jim had handmade much of the oak furniture for the clubroom, and occasionally helped out behind the bar and with general maintenance.

One day he said to Bob, "I heard one of our songs being sung on the wireless t'other day, but they didn't make much of a job of it. They didn't know the the right words for a start! I've a good mind to write and complain."

"Yes", agreed Bob, "but don't complain, just tell them we've got about fifty more more like it."

A telegram came back by return to say the BBC were sending a reporter down next day on the train to Brighton station, and would they arrange to have someone to meet him. The result was a prime-time programme on the Home Service "The Life of James Copper", and a full page photograph of Jim on the front cover of The Radio Times. There is no doubt that this chance phone call had a significant influence on what was to become the Folk Revival.

Brasser's songs had returned from the wilderness.

In Festival Year (1952) Jim, John, Bob and Ron, representing unaccompanied English Folk Music, sang at the Royal Albert Hall in a two-day international extravaganza of folk dance and song. Numerous radio and live performances followed.

Jim Copper carried the torch of traditional song through a period that saw its wholesale destruction by mass entertainment all over the country. It is sad that he did not live long enough to see his son and nephew consolidate this achievement, or indeed to be reassured of the future security of his father's legacy in the hands of younger generations.

John Copper, October 2004