A FARMWORKER took revenge after being sacked by Georgie Moore, the famous hell-raising vicar of Cowley.

The farmer-cum-clergyman rode around in a mule and trap and one day, the disgruntled labourer named Titcombe removed the chock holding the wheel of the trap in position. The wheel fell off in the middle of Hockmore Street, “much to the discomfiture of his reverence”.

Johnny Johnson, who grew up in Cowley and later became a well-known Oxford Mail photographer, describes in his memoirs how Georgie reigned supreme: “He swore like a trooper all week and preached a wonderful sermon on Sundays.

“During the 1914 war, officers from the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry at Cowley Barracks came regularly to hear his sermons, usually about the dreaded Kaiser, whom he denounced with such venom that the officers were heartily amused. I was in the choir. George Baker, the village blacksmith, was the head choirman and I had many a cuff round the ears for whispering during Georgie’s discourses.

“Because I was such a disturbing influence during choir practice, I was usually given the job of pumping the organ.

“I let the pressure indicator down to its lowest, until a sharp reminder came from the fat little organist, to ‘Pump up, Johnson’.”

One of Mr Johnson’s most vivid memories was in 1917 when “we were literally starving”.

His mother would send him two miles to Cowley Road to shops such as Lipton’s, Home & Colonial and Maypole to queue for food – sometimes he was lucky, sometimes not.

But his luck changed one day when a friend put a shilling on a 33-1 winner and they celebrated by sharing two large pork and egg pies.

At that time, beer was threepence a pint, a haircut cost threepence and a shave twopence. Mackintosh’s toffee was 4oz for a penny, Smith’s crisps were twopence a packet, Woodbine cigarettes were on sale for a penny, a new Raleigh cycle cost £3 10s new and you could buy a car for £120.

More of Mr Johnson’s memories soon.