Interviewed by Eve Sangster(ES) and Mary Ollis (MO)
Date: 30/09/1996
Transcribed by Eve Sangster, 14.5.93 with additions by Marilyn Taylor
Hertford Oral History Group
Recording no: O 1996.27
Interviewees: Ernest Chambers (EC) and Jim Morris (JM)
Date: 30th September 1996
Venue: Folly View, St Margarets
Interviewer: Eve Sangster (ES)
Transcribed by: Eve Sangster, 14.5.93 with additions by Marilyn Taylor
Typed by Eve Sangster
************** = unclear recording
[discussion] = untranscribed material
italics = editor’s notes
ES: I'm in the home of Ernie Chambers of Folly View, St Margaret's. Jim Morris is here and Mary Ollis. Where were you born, Mr Chambers?
EC: Do you want my birth certificate?
ES: No, I don't but just what was the date?
EC: The 31st of March. The last day of March. Nearly April Fool.
ES: Right, but what year?
EC: Oh dear, let me give you my birth certificate, keep asking me these questions. I can't think of all these 'ere things. Was a long while ago since I was born.
ES: How old are you? I'll work it out.
EC: Here you are. Here's my birth certificate. I shall be 90 at the end of March.
ES: Right. O.K.
JM: 1906, I should think. About 1906.
ES: Sorry about this short pause. Why can't I find the date? Oh, 1907.
JM: Well, I wasn't far out.
ES: No. Hang about. "When registered" - that's not it, either.
JM: Was you born at The Angel?
EC: No.
ES: I'm sorry. Yes. 31st March 1907.
EC: I was born in Bayford and then when my father died - I didn't even know my father. He died when I was ever so tiny. And then we moved to Pegs Lane.
JM: Same as me. I didn't know me father.
ES: Pegs Lane?
EC: That was before all them buildings was there.
JM: There was all little cottages there.
EC: (to Eve, who is trying to copy details of the birth certificate) Don't run away with that! Give me that 'ere! I'll put it in me pocket.
ES: I'm not going to! I wanted just to write down. Your father was a labourer.
EC: 'E was a farm labourer, and I'm the only one that took after 'im, on the farms.
JM: I didn't dislike the old farm work.
EC: You can't beat it, mate. Nice and 'ealthy. All open fresh air.
JM: Granddad, 'e was a cow foreman outside Stevenage.
EC: I was a cowman. I took up cowman's job when I was 14.
ES: So how old were you when you moved to Pegs Lane?
EC: About seven, I should think.
ES: And they were little cottages, were they, down at the bottom?
EC: They was all cottages, all the way up there. There was a pub.
JM: Opposite the Gladstone.
EC: There was a pub.
JM: The Gladstone.
EC: And there was a row of houses, about seven. On the other side, there was a little garage and there was eight houses over there
JM: And old Pokey Archer.
EC: Pokey Archer lived on that side and Connor Archer lived on that side.
ES: So you lived on the right, going up Pegs Lane?
JM: Me step-father, old Watson, they lived on the corner cottage.
EC: Don't talk to me about step-fathers! I 'ad to work like a bloody nigger for my step-father.
JM: (laughing) You 'ad the same trouble as me, then.
EC: Terrible.
ES: Did you have any brothers and sisters?
EC: Yes.
ES: What were they? How many?
EC: Next to me was me brother 'Arry.
ES: What, going up or down? Who was the eldest?
EC: Going up. Me brother Ted and brother Jim. Now the girls, right? Me eldest sister was Daisy.
JM: Someone told me she was still alive?
EC: No, she is not. There's none of them alive - Daisy, Mary and Annie, right?
ES: So a big family?
EC: There was two more after my step-father got married to my mother, two more.
ES: And how old were you when your mother married again?
EC: Well, I must have been about 10.
ES: And how did your father die?
EC: Well that I couldn't tell you. When I was a baby. And then we 'ad to get out of the farm'ouse 'cos it come in with the job, you see.
ES: Was this farmhouse at Bayford?
EC: At Bayford, yeah.
ES: Oh, I see, so when your father died you were turned out?
EC: And then went to Pegs Lane.
ES: Who did the farm belong to?
EC: Oh, well, I just can't say. Years ago, that is. I was only a baby.
ES: How long were you at Pegs Lane?
EC: Oh, I think seven or eight years.
ES: And did you move from there directly to The Angel?
EC: Now look, let me tell you 'ow it 'appened. My oldest sister was courting Mr Collins, right? That's me step-father.
JM: Ben Collins.
EC: Yeah, wait a minute! She packed 'im up and she got married and moved to whatyecallit.
My mother took 'im over.
ES: What, Ben Collins?
EC: Yeah, my mother took 'im over and married 'im. The worst thing she could 'ave done.
JM: Wasn't 'e a war invalid? 'E 'ad
EC: Wait a minute! I'll tell 'er all this if she asks me.
ES: Yes, I will ask you. Tell me all about it. Was he a lot younger than your mother?
EC: A lot younger than my mother, yes! We moved down to Railway Street. 'E took The Angel Public House ove. and there was a little sweetshop attached to it, right? Then the war came along and Ben 'ad to go in the army, O.K? 'E came back with only one arm.
Me, never got no schooling. 'Ad to do all the work for 'im. I used to 'ave to get the 'orse and cart and go to Cole Green sawmills, get a load of wood, chop it up and then go out and sell it. I never 'ad no schooling at all.
ES: And how old were you?
/
EC: 'Ow old was I? 14 when that 'appened, when I was doing all that jobs.
ES: But wasn't schooling compulsory? Weren't you made to go to school?
EC: Now, when my mother tried to get me in when I was younger, all the schools was full up. The Infants near All Saints’ Church, the Infants was, that was full up. Then she tried, as I got older, the other schools and couldn't get in and I never got to school and when 'e come out the army they got exemption for me to 'elp 'im. As I say, I worked like a nigger. And 'e used to knock me about terrible...Used to knock me about terrible.
ES: Didn't your mother take your side, ever?
EC: Course she did but 'e used to knock 'er about, an' all. Yeah, as I say, all the others they kept getting married, you see, me brothers and sisters, and I was Joe Muggins on me own. And then she 'ad children from 'im. See, I done all the work and they 'ad all the best of everything, 'is two children, a boy and a girl.
ES: So when were you able to get a job on your own?
EC: Well, when 'e died, right?
ES: When was that?
EC: Ooh, that was when I was about 16. You know 'Artham Lane, don't you? Did you know old Bentley? 'E was a bricklayer. 'E got me a job to 'elp 'im pointing the chimneys down there, you know, cementing. You know what pointing is? I left 'im when 'e died.
I 'ad to 'elp 'im down the ladder. When 'e got to the bottom 'e snuffed it. After that, I took a job with 'Unters, the farm. You know 'Unters?
ES: Yes, I do.
ES: Where is that?
EC: Swallow Grove Farm, Mangrove. And I took up milking, milking cows.
ES: Did you live in or you still lived…?
EC: No, I still lived, I used to 'ave to walk there every morning.
ES: But at least you were getting paid.
EC: I was getting paid, yeah.
ES: How much did you get a week?
EC: 'Ow much? D'you know 'ow much I got pocket money? 6d! Half a crown a week, that's all I got.
ES: What, at the farm?
EC: At the farm. Half a crown a week, right? My mother used to give me 6d.
ES: Out of that, yes.
EC: And, as I say, I worked there for what?, two year or more. Then I moved to Dunkirk's Farm, up Queens Road.
ES: Oh, did you? The Neales. Frank Neale'
EC: Remember? Frank Neale. Mr Neale.
ES: I remember the father.
EC: I moved to there and then, I was with 'im, what - two or three years, and then my wife wanted
to get out of service - she used to work at Bengeo. So I said, "Well, the next job I see in the Mercury, I'll take it as long as it's got a house," Right? We looked in the Mercury and there was one going at Lady Wise's, on the Hatfield Road. You know Hatfield Road, don't you? Lady Wise's. I took head cowman job there. That was 'ouse complete.
ES: I wonder if that Bayfordbury Farm.
EC: You know you go over the railway bridge you're coming from Cole Green, right? You're coming up and you go over a railway bridge and the farm is just over the side there.
ES: And you had a cottage there?
EC: We had a cottage. Well, I'll tell you, we got married.
ES: Where did you get married?
EC: In the Registry Office. We got married and we 'ad to walk all the way. There was no buses running at that time. We 'ad to walk all the way there, me and the wife. 'Cos I took the job on before we got married, you see.
MO: Where was the Registry Office? Was it in Hertford?
EC: Yes, you know where the old police station used to be? The other side of the road.
ES: Oh, in Castle Street. Where did you meet your wife?
EC: Ware Fair.
ES: And how old were you?
EC: I was about, what - 20. And we got married. I was 21 and my wife was 20.
ES: What was her name?
EC: Violetta Firenze.
ES: Was she Italian?
EC: Her father, No. Her father was a jockey but 'e used to travel about to different places and the wife used to go with 'im and she 'ad the baby in Italy and they'd give 'er an Italian name.
JM: Can I put you straight 'here. I think your brother, 'e married your wife's sister.
EC: No.
JM: Wannit? I thought they was two sisters.
EC: No, my wife she come from Newmarket. 'Er parents died and she 'ad a foster mother bring my wife up.
ES: So where did you go after working for Lady Wise?
EC: Now, look, when I come from - I was there for what? Lady Wise's must 'ave been about three year. I moved back to Dunkirk's Farm. There was two cottages attached to it. One for the horse man and one for the cowman. I went back there. I was there for what - couple or three year, then I went to, dear, what's the big place where you get licenses and that?
ES: Bailey Hall? No, County Hall?
EC: County Hall. I took a groundsman job over there, right? It was me and old Dolley. D'you know Dolley?
MO: I did. He looked after the cemetery.
ES: But what year was this?
EC: Ooh, I couldn't tell you.
ES: I mean, that was 1939 that was built.
EC: Yes. I was there and, as I say, I went from there to Mrs Graveson. You know the furniture people by the Memorial, used to keep the furniture shop.
MO: Yes, Morris.
EC: Morris. I worked for them after leaving the County Hall.
JM: They moved down to Bull Plain afterwards.
EC: Well, 'e always did 'ave that. It was only the yard. 'E kept the shop. And the yard, 'e used to keep 'is lorries down there and that little shop next to the Museum was 'is workshop.
JM: But 'e 'ad a big shop near the War Memorial.
EC: That's what I'm just saying. That's where 'e used to sell all 'is stuff. But I'm talking about when 'e used to do 'is work. 'E used to 'ave a workshop next to the Museum. There's been a fire down there, aint there? Someone was telling me.
ES: A bad one.
EC: It come on the telly, didn't it?
MO: It was Fordham's, Marshall's, used to be Fordham's.
ES: One of the little buildings in Church Street is quite burnt out, nothing there, just a gap. And then where Frank Chapple had his toy shop in Bull Plain, the roof has gone on that. Some mad fireman.
Going back to The Angel, where did you actually live there? I've got some photos. Did your stepfather keep the pub on, right until it closed?
EC: Until they closed it up, yeah.
ES: Right. Tell me his name again?
EC: Mr Collins. Ben Collins.
JM: Big feller, wasn't 'e?
EC: Yeah. I know that because 'e used to knock me about terrible.
ES: With his fist?
JM: But 'e was 'andy with that bloomin' 'ook wasn't 'e?
EC: 'E 'ad an artificial 'and. 'e used to 'it me with that. Used to 'ave an artificial arm.
JM: Used to do a bit of bookmaking.
EC: 'E was always backing 'orses and, I say, when 'e lost 'e used to come and put 'is spite on me.
ES: (shows photograph) Now that's one of the pub, isn't it?
EC: Yes, that's the pub. Then there was a 'ouse. Then there was another pub.
JM: The Cross Keys.
EC: Then there was - what you call it - a maltings, kept all the corn.
ES: Barbers! So, and that's an alleyway.
EC: That's where we used to take the 'orse and we 'ad stables 'ere.
ES: Let me show you that one, then. That's a sort of barn on stilts.
EC: Yes, that's right.
ES: But if you went up this alley, see that bit of weatherboarding there, is that part of this barn?
EC: This was a big billiard-table room, ever such a long room.
JM: It was on stilts, wannit? That's where you used to keep your wood, under there.
ES: So it was that. It was actually the upper storey of the barn on stilts.
EC: That's right.
ES: Did you two live there? You didn't live there together?
EC: No, no, no, no. Not until they shut the pub down. Then they split the 'ouse in 'alf . Then these [the Morris's] moved in.
JM: I think we was there a couple of years. I 'ad me 'ead cut when I was down there. I did it, you know that part where there was a glass roof? I 'ad to sit in a chair while they cut it because I 'ad a big lump on the top 'ere.
ES: So, when you were there, your family occupied the whole of it, did they?
EC: We 'ad the 'ole of the place.
ES: But, Jim, why is it then that you say, "Oh, the Chambers used to live there" when you were there?
JM: They divided it off, didn't they? It was cut in 'alf. You lived one side, and we lived the other.
EC: Yes.
ES: So you were there together?
EC: We were still there, right? But the pub had closed then. After that, we moved round the back.
JM: At the top of us used to be old Mother Claydon and all them lot, Mrs 'Ealey.
ES: When you say "round the back" do you mean actually a building in the yard?
EC: No, no. No, look 'ere. You've got the maltings 'ere, ain't you? Then a road goes down the back what was called The Green.
JM: Where the old Ragged School…
EC: Yeah, they was all 'ouses down there.
ES: There's The Angel, here. There's The Angel Public House and this is Railway Street, O.K? That's The Angel and that's that little entrance we've just been looking at and that building there is the barn on stilts, that long one. So if you come down here…
EC: Down 'ere's another road.
ES: This is Bircheley Street, which is what you call The Green, isn't it? So whereabouts did you live down here, then?
EC: D'you know where you go and ask when the buses are moving, well that's where we lived, at that spot, [exit on to Bircherley Green, opp. Bircherley Court, from shopping centre.] On the other side of the road was the Salvation Army [Ragged School].
JM: Old Dixon used to keep it.
EC: That's right.
ES: Dolly, Jim's cousin, used to live in cottages opposite the Salvation Army.
JM: Uncle George, with Hilda.
ES: Were they the same row of cottages?
EC: Yeah, could've been, yeah.
ES: Yes, because that's where Dolly lived and that's the Ragged School.
JM: The Ragged School was on its own there.
ES: Did you go swimming in the river?
EC: Yes, we used to go swimming.
JM: Now, you probably knew Tom Ashwell. I fell in there once: 'e got me out.
EC: Could you swim?
JM: I might 'have done, a bit.
EC: I could swim like a duck. I used to go in one side, underwater, and get out the other.
JM: 'Cos we used to go down 'Artham and jump in the river. No bathing costume, or nuffink, you know.
EC: When the old barges used to come up the river and unload all the…
JM: …timber.
ES: When we looked, in our last interview, Jim, you said about the 'willow hole'. You said, "Oh, that's the willow hole."
JM: The willow hole was at Hartham, on the edge of the Warren. You know where the old swimming baths is on Hartham. At the moment now they've put a bridge there now. There was no bridge. There was a deep hole. That's where we learnt to swim.
ES: But when both of you went swimming, when you lived down by The Green, is this where you did? [shows p.63 Len Green's book]
EC: It was just here we used to go in swimming.
ES: This is the Ragged School, the Salvation Army.
EC: That's right.
ES: And, I suppose, your cottages were there?
JM: Bear in mind there, when we went in swimming, we jumped in anywhere; no special place.
EC: From the Salvation Army, there used to be all yards. Botsford's used to 'ave a yard there. Jewson's, all that lot.
JM: Up this end of The Green there was Adams, the coal merchants. We're coming right up to the Library, the back. Before you got there, the other part where Jewson had one, that big bit, that was called 'the wide waters'.
EC: That's right.
JM: Because it was a big, open stretch. That was where all the barges used to anchor.
ES: So, Ernie, what would a typical day have been like at The Angel?
EC: A typical day?
ES: Yes, I mean, what time did you have to get up, and so on?
EC: Me? I used to be up at 6 o'clock in the morning, go up, feed the 'orse, put 'im in the cart. 'Cos we used to put the cart up the yard near the Welcome, near the blacksmith's shop. You know old, oh dear, I can't think of 'is name now - George Wheeler. We couldn't get the cart up the alleyway, only the 'orse, and we used to put that up there. I used to take it round there, load it up and go to Cole Green and I got no breakfast until I got back.
ES: What did you go to Cole Green for?
EC: Get a load of wood. Moseley's Saw Mills. Is it still there?
MO: No, I don't think it is.
ES: So when you got back, what did you have for breakfast?
EC: What did I 'ave? A bit of toast or a bit of bread and butter. Didn't 'ave no porridge in them days.
JM: There was an old saying we used to say there, "What you 'ave for breakfast? Twenty minutes!"
ES: So, then you had to get on with more work. Then what did you do?
EC: After I'd chopped it all up I used to 'ave to go out and sell it.
JM: Done up in bundles, all like that.
ES: Did you have regular customers or did you have to shout it in the street?
EC: No. You 'ad to shout out.
ES: So what did you shout? Give us a cry.
EC: "Billet wood in bundles. Billet wood in bundles."
ES: Billet wood in bundles, right. See, this is a vanished street cry.
JM: "Billet wood in bundles. Logs. Logs."
EC: Now, I knew how to make bundles. When I lived at Pegs Lane, you know, watchermacallit used to keep the pub
JM: Davis.
EC: Yeah. I used to 'elp 'im. 'E used to sell bundles.
JM: Used to sit round there chopping it all up.
EC: I used to sit there till I couldn't get my leg out, chopping up wood. Then we used to pick it up. Two crutches and you'd put your wood in there, pull this bit of rope over, press it down, and tie 'em up.
ES: So, did you take your lunch with you or did you go back to The Angel?
(Bitter laughter from Ernie and Jim.)
EC: Lunch? I didn't take no lunch. I 'ad me grub when I got back. No, I didn't take no lunch.
ES: And was your mother a good cook?
EC: My mother was a good cook, yes.
JM: As a matter of fact, women then, the majority were good cooks. They were brought up to it.
ES: So, when you look back to those days, what was your favourite meal?
EC: Sundays
JM: Meat pudding.
EC: Dumpling pudding or a stew; currant duff, what they called a currant duff.
ES: And what about your brothers and sisters? Did they help or was it just you?
EC: They used to 'elp mother clean up, washing up and things like that, yeah. As I say, they all got married and I was left on my own.
ES: Why did the pub close?
EC: Well, 'cos there was too many of them down there. There was eight pubs. You know where Boots's used to be, well, its all watches and that there now. There was the Red Lion, er
Transcribers Note: there was no Red Lion it was the Lions Head
JM: The Cross Keys.
EC: No, before you get anywhere near, cor, lumme. On the other side of the road, it's still there now.
ES: The Duncombe?
EC: No, look.
ES: Oh, The White Hart.
EC: The White 'Art. We're coming from Boots's [now Hinds, jewellers, corner of Bull Plain & Maidenhead St.] The Lion's 'Ead, The Green Dragon, The Duncombe, The Welcome, then there was The Lion.
ES: But did you ever have to help in The Angel, behind the bar?
EC: Help be'ind the bar? No, my mother and them used to "elp. My sisters used to 'elp. Mary and Daisy, they used to 'elp.
JM: See, in them days you never 'ad no carpet on the floor. There was sawdust, and all like that, weren't there?
EC: And spittoons.
ES: Was The Angel a rough pub?
EC: No, it was pretty good. 'Cos I used to sit round the table and 'elp smoke a pipe with the old men, and 'ave a drop of their beer. Most, you know, very pleasant people used to come in.
JM: What was the price of beer then when…?
EC: A penny a pint.
JM: Oh, it was fourpence when I was there.
MO: So when did it close as a pub?
EC: Oh, well. It wasn't long before 'e come out the army, 1914-18 war. When that finished they closed a lot of the pubs.
ES: I've got the date somewhere. In actual fact, it was the early 20s, 1920 or 1921.
EC: I was about five, so it would be 1919 [??] [Pub closed, licence extinguished, 31.12.1917 – see Harry Bentley's research in Museum.]
ES: Do you remember each other?
JM: Yes, I remember Ernie and his brother. And there was Reg. 'Cos I used to knock about with Reg.
EC: Step-brother.
JM: Yes, step-brother.
ES: Did you get on with your step-brother?
EC: No.
ES: So your step-brothers were Reg…?
EC: Reg and Lil.
JM: If Reg was alive now 'e'd be the same age as me.
EC: Well, 'e's not. None of 'em.
ES: Lil, then, Ernie's step-sister, is the one you went out with. You walked on the Meads.
JM: Daisy. I took 'er out one day, down The Angel.
EC: That ain't Daisy, that's Lil.
JM: I mean Lil, Lil, Lil, Lil.
EC: 'E took Lil, my step-sister, out. Daisy, that's me oldest sister.
JM: Lil. She's still alive.
EC: She's not. She died about two months ago.
JM: Oh well, I ain't far out. Sister Lil, my sister Lil, told me she was still alive, living up Bengeo way somewhere.
EC: No.
JM: So it's only just recently then?
ES: The woman I saw this morning pushing the pram, is she related to either of you? The one whose picture was in the Mercury a few months ago?
JM: Ivy? That's me Uncle's daughter.
ES: Is that a relative of Dolly's?
JM: Dolly who?
ES: Dolly Dudley?
JM: Yes, a step-sister. There's two marriages there. Uncle George…
ES: What do you remember of the market? Used you ever to help in it?
EC: I never done no work in the market.
(They speak briefly of the cinemas, and of not being able to afford to go to the circus.)
ES: So when you look back at your time at The Angel, it was a pretty unhappy time?
EC: I didn't want to look back. I had a rough time. Until 'e died. And then it was all right.
ES: What did he die of?
EC: I couldn't tell you what 'e died of.
JM: Big fella, wasn't 'e? Big fella.
EC: Yeah. I know that, when 'e used to clout me.
JM: I think I 'ad one or two little clashes with 'im.
ES: So, neither of you got on with your step-fathers, did you?
JM: No, no, no. no. I knocked mine out!
EC: You ain't the only one. Now 'e 'it me one day as I was just coming in. Just come in with a load of wood. 'E 'it me in the bar with that artificial arm. I couldn't stand it no more so I clouted 'im. 'It 'im and knocked 'im to the floor. My mother said to 'im, "You've been asking for that." And from that day on 'e never touched me afterwards.
JM: I did the same thing and that was the best day of my life. Everything changed.
ES: Yeah, you should have done it sooner.
JM: It was just as I started earning, you know, went to work, and I'd got something to fall on, my Granny and all that.
ES: Yes, if it was your only home, you've no choice.
JM: You didn't go on the street. But you always found that, where there was second marriages.
EC: Well, as I say, I moved from there. You know Ernie Archer? When I left the farm I took a bungalow what belonged to him and then from there I went in the council 'ouses.
MO: When were you at the farm?
EC: What, you're talking about my little farm?
MO: No, I'm talking about Dunkirk's because I think you might have dragged me out of their pond. I remember you. I went on their pond, on ice, and the ice broke, and I went in. Where were the cottages?
EC: The two cottages. There was Graveson's big 'ouse there, right? Well, there was two cottages next door. Now, they've built a school in the back, haven't they?
MO: And they pulled those cottages down. They were red brick cottages and they've built some rather, well, houses, immediately post-last war.
-- "
ES: Are you talking about Swallow Grove Farm?
EC: No, Morgans Walk.
ES: Did any other families live in The Angel apart from the Morrises?
JM: No, just the Chambers and the Morrises. It was condemned.
ES: You were allowed to stay on even though the pub had closed. So you were tenants of McMullens?
JM: Old Fred Ashman used to come round and collect the rent, manager of McMullen's.
ES: Did your step-father die more or less at the same time as the pub was closed?
EC: No, a long while before that.
ES: Then who managed it?
EC: My mother managed it and then it wasn't long before they closed it up.
ES: Did they make a good living from the pub?
EC: Yes, a pretty good living. Then my mother moved from there to Hertingfordbury Road,
those council houses.
ES: But Jim remembers his step-father pawning Jim's blazer and so on and so on but perhaps your family didn't have to go to the pawnshop if you were making a good living from the pub.
EC: No, I never went to no pawnshop.
JM: But they used to, down Railway Street, opposite where Woolworth's is, Connell's.
EC: No, I never pawned nothing. Didn't 'ave nothing to bloody pawn.
JM: Well, I had a jacket and trousers and that's where they were. And that was the starting of it, see. I went to go out on a Sunday and I 'adn't got no clothes to put on and that's when the fight started.
ES: You didn't go to Sunday School or anything like that?
EC: No, what was the use. I couldn't read or write.
ES: Has that been a dreadful handicap to you?
EC: Well, I've got on so far, haven't I? When I moved to Brickendonbury Lane, my guvnor lent me the money to buy the pit, gravel pit. It was, a couple of acres of ground. Two fifty, it was. And I used to 'ave goats.
JM: Cows, didn't you?
EC: Wait a minute! Just let me tell this lady what it was. I 'ad goats, right? And then I 'ad an old sow and she 'ad 12 youngsters, right? I gradually built a little farm up, smallholding. Then for the goats, I used to buy day-old calves in the market, so I'd got a 'erd of cattle. I used to rent the field up the County 'All and put the cattle in.
ES: Are they the fields that slope down to West Street?
EC: That's right.
JM: I remember you came round with some goats meat, 'cos you sold my granny some; a bit of rib.
EC: When I used to get a little billy goat, I used to kill it. Like eating venison. Lovely.
ES: So you actually did quite well.
EC: Course I did. Then when they wanted to buy it off of me, after I come out of the army, d'you know how much I sold it for? Seven thousand! I give two fifty for it. That's from Lady Pearson. She used to dig all the gravel out and do 'er paths up.
JM: Now they've got 'ouses on it now. Mandeville
EC: They was building 'ouses and as they took the footings out they put the dirt in this 'ere 'ole to fill it in, and built on that.
JM: Webb's house [on the corner] is still there. Your pit was right next to it, wasn't it?
MO: Where did you live, then?
EC: I lived in the council 'ouses, on the side.
(A short discussion follows about doctors never being summoned because of the call-out charge of 7s.6d.; of remedies such a camphorated oil and eucalyptus oil and of going to school with brown paper, larded with tallow or goose grease, plastered on one's chest),
ES: Have you got any photographs of the old days?
EC: No. D'you know, I was scared stiff to have my photograph taken when I was small.
ES: Why?
EC: Well, that bloke used to put that thing over 'is 'ead, and I'd think 'e was going to shoot me
JM: The Angel ... was a big building.
EC: It was a big place.
JM: I'd say, years ago, it could have been more of a stables, hotel, 'cos there was washhouses and barns all at the back. I mean, we used to have a cricket team out the back, didn't we?
EC: It was a big garden. Remember me keeping the goats? Till they started eating the plum tree and the apple tree. Made me get rid of them.
ES: So how old were you then?
EC: Oh, 14, 15.
ES: And you got those from the market?
EC: I brought them from the market, yeah. Save up my bloomin' tanner I used to get a week. That's all the pocket money I used to get was sixpence. My brother 'Arry used to get more because 'e worked at the dairy.
ES: Which dairy was that?
EC: Next door.
ES: Oh, Smiths. When you say 'The Welcome', the sweet shop, was that at one time part of the pub?
EC: No, no, no, no, no.
JM: It was attached to it; well, it was next door.
EC: Next door. And then there was a archway to go up to the blacksmith's shop, and then there was a dairy, and then a coalman, then there was a baker's.
JM: Coleman. That's Coleman, the shoe shop.
EC: Coleman. All in a row.
JM: Next to Coleman was Godfrey, the tailor, used to make all the plus fours
ES: So what is your earliest memory? Or is it a horrible one of having a wallop from your step-father?
EC: What, me earliest memory? Well, I mean, before 'e married, I was only about seven when she married 'im, Mr Collins. All I can remember is I used to walk about with no bloody shoes on. Couldn't afford a pair of shoes. Running the street in your bare feet.
ES: Did your father die in the war?
EC: No, my father died a long while before the war. I didn't even know my father.
ES: Your father was a farm labourer. Did they come from Bayford? Had they always lived there?
EC: No, my father and mother, they used to live on the way to Cole Green. My oId granddad lived in that cottage on the right 'and side, before you turn into, go in to the big estate.
ES: Oh, was it a lodge? For Panshanger?
EC: Panshanger.
ES: Oh, did your grandfather work on the estate, then?
EC: 'E was a shepherd. My grandfather was a shepherd. I used to look forward to going there every Saturday. That's when the railway was running. I used to take 'er shopping for 'er. Used to look forward to a nice meal when I got there.
ES: And your grandma was still alive, was she, then?
EC: Grandfather and grandmother still alive, yes.
ES: Oh well, that was a nice outing for you. Did you go on the train to Cole Green?
EC: Train to Cole Green, yeah. Well, Letty Green. It's nearer Letty Green.
ES: When was Panshanger pulled down?
JM: 1952. 'Cos in 1953 I 'ad 10,000 bricks from there for a wall at East End Green, Dr. Goldblatt's, Yes, I remember that coming down. Marvellous place. They didn't have wallpaper on the wall, it was silk.
ES: Bit different to The Angel.
JM: Ooh, I'll say so!
ES: But you were never out of work, though, even in the Depression?
JM: Never 'ad an 'alfpenny off of them, never 'ad an 'alfpenny.
EC: No, I went from one job to another. I was never out of work. One of 'is drivers, Mr Graveson's, learnt me to drive. I used to take 'er around, Mrs Graveson. And you know the old maids lived along the Ware Road, two maids.
MO: The Miss Morrisseys.
EC: And their brother. I used to take them out. Mean lot of old devils. Wouldn't even give you a bloody windfall apple. Tight as wax! Used to make me stop on the road and pick up a bit of flowers off the bushes.
JM: See, another thing you can't imagine now, see, sometimes you done a job and probably you didn't get no money. They'd give you a big lump of cake or bread and cheese.
EC: You wouldn't get nothing out of them, I'll tell you!
(Jim recalls an earlier interview when he discovered that he once worked for Thora Blake's father)
ES: When you say like "1/6d a week," you weren't full-time there?
JM: No, no. You went, say, half-past seven to half-past eight before school. Then when you come out at 4 o'clock you went back for an hour or so, you see. Then all day Saturday.
(There is a brief discussion of Miss Hoad]
EC: Luddy Moulding was always fighting arter 'e come out of the pub. That's one bloke that I know.
ES: Did he drink in The Angel?
EC: Yes, 'e used to.
JM: I don't think there was a pub 'e didn't drink in.
EC: 'E used to roll out of one into the other, backwards and forward.
ES: How could he afford to do that?
JM: 'E did all odd jobs and things like that.
ES: I mean, even in those days it cost money to get drunk, didn't it?
EC: It was only a penny a pint when we used to sell it.
JM: And, the thing and all, 'e even come up to you, "Give us a penny, tuppence, to get a pint" and all that, you know, come begging.
EC: Come on the cadge, used to.
ES: Do you remember, opposite The Angel, do you remember what those yards were called? You know where Parkins the butchers was for years?
EC: Right opposite The Angel was an old second-hand clothes shop, Mills. Then there was an 'ouse in between. Then there was another shop. Then there was a tobacco shop. There was the Duncombe. A yard used to lead down to another blacksmith's shop, old Wheeler. In between, whatyoucallit, there used to be another blacksmith's shop there. Then there was another further down, 'Opkins, three blacksmith's shops down that street.
(Eve points to the yard behind Parkins which used to be Lawrence's, drapers)