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Transcript TitlePurkis, Reg (O1995.17)
IntervieweeReg Purkis (RP)
InterviewerJean Riddell Purkis (JR)
Date10/04/1995
Transcriber byJean Riddell (Purkis)

Transcript

Hertford Oral History Group

Recording no O 1995.17

Interviewee: Reg Purkis (RP)

Date: 10th April, 1995.

Venue: 7 Molewood Road, Hertford

Interviewers: Jean Riddell (JR)

Transcriber: Jean Riddell (Purkis)

************** unclear recording

[discussion] untranscribed material

italics editor’s notes

JR: This is Monday 10th April, 1995 and I'm at the home of Reg Purkis which is 7 Molewood Road, Hertford and Reg is going to tell us about his life and the changes he's seen in his 85 years. Reg, I understand from my previous visit that you were actually born in Ware. not Hertford?

RP: I was. I was born, I think the number was no. 13, High Oak Road, Ware and my parents came over to Hertford in the March of 1914 and so I was approximately 4½, 5 years old, and we moved to 22, Parkhurst Road, Bengeo. Of course, they were the war years, the times of the Zeppelins and although I didn't know too much about the war I certainly was scared, with my parents. We used to go into neighbours and hide our heads under the table in case any bombs fell on us. And frequently my parents with a bag of straw would bundle me up to the Molewood Tunnel and we would sleep there in one of the recesses on the bags of straw.

JR: Really? next to the railway line, then.

RP: Yes. There was just a single track through there at that time because the railway wasn't officially opened because it was used for bringing through goods and probably soldiers, a matter of transportation.

JR: There were no shelters during that war, were there? They were in the second world war.

RP: There were no shelters and no blackout during that war because we didn't think that things would be coming from the sky. But I well remember Hertford being bombed because at that time my uncle lived at no. 9, next door to here. And actually we were upstairs looking out of the window to see this Zeppelin when these terrific flashes came over in the direction of the County Hospital. And my father was the engineer running the stationary engine at the mill and, of course, all our thoughts were for him in view of the fact that was in that direction.

JR: And that was the bomb that in fact destroyed the home of your future wife, wasn't it?

RP: Yes. She was about 6 years old then and from there they moved into Hertingfordbury Road. (Reg later corrected this to 6 months old)

JR: Yes, we heard that little bit of description from Gladys so that's really my link with you, through Gladys, in fact. So, when you came to Hertford to live in Parkhurst Road, did your father come to take the job up at the hospital, no, not the hospital, the mill?

RP: No. He, I'm not sure. First of all whether he came to drive a traction engine at Ewan and Tomlinson's which was the wood merchants'

JR: Oh, where was that?

Transciber note: Priory Works

RP: Down towards the Eastern Station, which it was taken over by another wood firm, but it's recently been built on. It's, do you know the new properties?

JR: Yes. Wasn't that Jewson's before?

RP: Jewson's is correct.

JR: And you think before Jewson's it was Ewen and Tomlinson's?

RP: It was Ewen and Tomlinson's.

JR: And you think he worked there possibly?

RP: He did, because I remember travelling with him on the traction engine and pulling trees up onto a trailer at the back to take them to the yard to be sawn up. And from there I think he went, I know at one time he was working in the gravel pit along Ware Road, and from there he went. In view of the fact of his knowledge about steam, he got this job at Garratt's Mill and was on shift work driving the stationary engine which created all the driving force and made electricity for the mill.

JR: So on that day when the Zeppelin came across he was there then, was he?

RP: He was there and they shut the mill down and I know they all went outside and I think there was one or two of his comrades there was killed. My father fortunately escaped it. The others were hit by shrapnel.

JR: Yes, I think one of them was from Hertingfordbury Road.

RP: One was named Hart who lived in Port Vale, just down the road.

JR: Right. Two were killed there and that was from the same stick of bombs, wasn't it that people in Bull Plain…?

RP: That is correct. I think, I believe, there was 44 bombs dropped that night through the town and onto the Meads.

JR: So when you moved to Hertford, to Parkhurst Road, how long did you stay there?

RP: In Bengeo?

JR: Yes

RP: Actually we moved down here in 1921, so getting on for about seven years. And we were only in this house about three months before my father died in the 'flu epidemic of 1922.

JR: He was young, in his forties, wasn't he?

RP: 44.

JR: So he actually died here. And you had an uncle next door? So you've lived here ever since, have you?

RP: Yes. Well, we did move next door for a period of about a couple of years and moved back into this house again because my uncle moved out, and over the other side of the road and my mother thought she'd like to move next door. And it didn't seem to work out so we saw the landlady and moved back in here.

JR: So, how long have you had this house to yourself? Did you bring your wife here when you were married?

RP: Well, my mother was suffering from rheumatoid arthritis and we got married and for 18 years my mother was living here while my wife was bringing up a family so I owe my wife a great debt of gratitude

JR: Yes, it's not easy, is it, with an elderly relative around?

RP: It's not.

JR: But when you were born in Ware, were you from a Ware family? Were there other uncles over in Ware?

RP: Oh, yes, although they're gradually dying off. I buried a cousin of 96 only a couple of weeks ago and I still have relatives. My mother's side of the family were the name of Hills, and there's plenty of them left.

JR: So it's quite a big extended family really, the Purkises and Hills and other relatives. So did your father spend his time in Hertford in the First World War. He wasn't called up at all?

RP: No, no.

JR: Did you have any relatives who were involved in the First World War?

RP: Yes. I lost an uncle, Henry. He died although it wasn't enemy action. He died during the 'flu epidemic as well.

JR: That was quite a big thing. How long did it last for? Was it just in 1922?

RP: It started before then, but it was certainly '22 when my father caught it.

JR: I suppose generally people were, people's health wasn't wonderful at that time, was it, probably a lot of deprivation during the war and they were 'run down' and susceptible to infection, do you think?

RP: Yes, because there wasn't the sanitation then. We had these yards and that in Hertford. Poet's Corner and various names. I can't think of them all now and the Green at Hertford where there were old wooden houses and could be outside toilets, or no toilets at all.

JR: And they shared them, didn't they? They were water closets but they - I've just done some work on Oaker's Buildings which was Poets' Corner - and they had 4 loos between 16 or 17 houses.

RP: You're right. And not far from here, just down the road, is what we call the twitchel which leads up to Byde St. There still.

JR: I've seen those. There are some wild plum trees, aren't there, the other side of the path?

RP: They're not used today.

JR: No, but they're there. So what about school, where did you go to school?

RP: Well, I started school at Christ Church, which has now been demolished and you've got a row of houses there. The old school is still used by one of the dramatic societies.

JR: Yes, COPS, isn't it, Company of Players.

RP: The Company of Players, you're correct and from there I went to Bengeo School. The girls' school and the boys' school were adjacent to one another and they were opposite the Red Lion, or is it the White Lion?

JR: White, I think, White Lion. I think in later years, after you, it was the school that Eric Heffer went to, isn't it?

RP: I think, Eric Heffer, I'm not sure he may have gone to Bengeo School, but I had an idea that he was at the Cowper School.

JR: Yes, maybe he started off at Bengeo because the Cowper School was for boys from 11, wasn't it, so he may have been at Bengeo for his primary education. How old were you when you left school?

RP: I was 14.

JR: And you stayed there at Bengeo until you were 14?

RP: Yes.

JR: You said before, you were actually working at Goldings, the Barnado's Home.

RP: That was after I'd served an apprenticeship in the printing trade.

JR: So, from school at 14, did you go straight into an apprenticeship or did you do anything else in between?

RP: For 6 months, I was polishing brushes at Addises the toothbrush works That was only a temporary job until such time that I could get into printing. I wanted to get into printing because my brother was in the printing trade.

JR: Now, before you did that, what about, can you remember anything about, maybe being in a church choir, or you said you played an instrument in, what band was that?

RP: It was the Salvation Army Band in Hertford. And I was taught to play an instrument when I was about 8 years old and I can well remember at the Peace Celebrations after World War One heading the procession in the Salvation Army Band and marching all the troops through the town.

JR: You were only about, what, nine then?

RP: Yes, and I can remember, I couldn't keep up with the…

JR: Pace of it? Were you playing?

RP: Yes

JR: It was a marching band?

RP: Yes, it was a marching band.

JR: And what instrument was it you actually played?

RP: At that time I was playing the flugel horn.

JR: Right, yes. I've heard of that already! Is that a difficult one to play?

RP: No, no. It's a very nice toned instrument because it comes between a cornet and a trumpet and a horn. It's got a very mellow tone.

JR: Right. And your dad and your grandfather and your brother, played. What instruments did they play?

RP: My father played the trombone; my brother played the euphonium and my grandfather played the baritone.

JR: Oh. And at that time of the photograph you showed me you were all four in the band.

RP: At that time.

JR: That must have been at around the time you are talking about because you were about 10 then.

RP: Yes, yes. That photograph was actually taken at Maldon in Surrey where we went for a weekend. And I always remember travelling there because we had one of the old XWD lorries with solid tyres and we had chairs put in the back and a tarpaulin cover over the back. I mean this was before coaches. And travelling about 65 miles and being shaken all over the place with solid tyres. It wasn't one of those desirable trips!

JR: No. But there wasn't much traffic on the road!

RP: No, there wasn't. No, you're right!

JR: Some compensation, I suppose! Oh, well! So where did you go for your band practices?

RP: Well, at that time, the Salvation Army were using a hall at the back of Gaved's*. Used to be the YWCA hall in Fore St. And I think I used to go there. But then I used to go to Dodson's, the fish shop, at that time because one of the sons there was a Salvationist and played the cornet. And I used to go round to learn to play until I was proficient enough to play with the band.

Transcribers note: in 2016 Gaveds is now Albany Radio in Fore Street

JR: Do you remember Alderman Josiah Wren?

RP: Certainly do.

JR: We did a tape with his daughter recently, Ruth Long. I don't know whether you know her?

RP: Yes, and her husband.

JR: Did you? And she said that her father, Josiah Wren, was responsible for starting up the Salvation Army in this town, is that right?

RP: It's probable. He was very sympathetic with the Salvation Army. He was a chap that I had many conversations with.

JR: Yes. He was very popular, wasn't he?

RP: He was very popular and I think I met him. He was interested in Barnado's and I've met him out socially and chatted with him and during the 1914 and 19. I'm coming back to modern times

JR: The last war, was it?

RP: Yes, the last war and he was an alderman then. He wanted to co-opt me onto the local council because there were no elections during that period. But I just couldn't see my way clear to going for that.

JR: No. Were you interested in politics in your earlier years? Or now?

RP: Well, not actively, but naturally I do have my own opinion on things. And I wish I had taken an interest really, later on.

JR: Apparently when he was elected to the council he wasn't very popular with the other councillors because he wasn't a Tory.

RP: No, he was a Liberal! His daughter married the candidate that put up for the Hertford Division.

JR: Yes, yes. That was Emily, wasn't it?

RP: Yes.

JR: Yes. Ruth gave us quite a good picture of that time when Emily married, Tom, was it Greenwood?

RP: Greenwood, that's right, Tom Greenwood.

JR: And I think he took Emily to live in Edenbridge in Surrey. So she actually left the town after that.

RP: I think one of the things was the fact that I think he was a divorced man.

JR: Oh, I see.

RP: I think that's, I may be wrong.

JR: Yes. I got the impression that perhaps, I'm not sure because it wasn't clear, I got the impression that he might have already been married and had children, or widowed or something.

RP: There was some complication.

JR: Oh. That's interesting that you know Josiah Wren, because I've just been transcribing the tape that Ruth made and I've been thinking about the Wren family quite a lot recently.

RP: Of course, they were bakers. And this is rather funny, too and I wouldn't mention it but you brought the fact up of Wrens. I was about 11 years old when I lost my father. I used to go on the baker's round in a horse and cart. Used to get a shilling given me for delivering bread all day!

JR: So that was when you were out of school, not..?

RP: On the Saturday.

JR: You must have found it difficult because your father died in 1922. And how many were you in family?

RP: There was just the four, father and mother, brother and me.

JR: Just two boys, that's right. OK! So you two boys, trying to work this out. You had just left school or you were just about to leave school when he died?

RP: Well, I hadn't left school then. I was only about 10 or 11 you see. I'd got another 3 years to go.

JR: And your brother had, he'd left school.

RP: My brother being nine years older than me, I was 16 when he got married. I was his best man at the age of 16. And, to keep going, my mother took in lodgers, we had to. We had one chap that while we were at church in the evening, just went through everything and cleared off and took a lot of my father's keepsakes. Because this was reported to the police they thought that would be a very good place to put in probationary policemen and so for a number of years we had one or two policemen that came from the college at Hatfield staying with us, and that gave us a bit of safety.

JR: So it was in this house you had the lodgers.

RP: Yes.

JR: So how many bedrooms have you got here?

RP: Three.

JR: Oh, you've got three, but still a bit of a squash I suppose, with lodgers. People you didn't know very well. So you had to get, your brother was already out of school. He was 19 when your father died.

RP: Yes, he went in the forces.

JR: And it was up to you to help out with little jobs, to help out with the money situation as well as taking in lodgers. Did you have any other part-time jobs?

RP: No I started at Addis's but when I left there after about 6 weeks, it was a case of serving an apprenticeship, 'til I was 21.

JR: So, who were your friends around this time in your youth?

RP: Well, some of them I lost in the last war and of course. I went to the Baptist Church after leaving the Salvation Army. I joined the church choir there and I spent many happy years there. And it was my good fortune, I was about 19 and I had a tenor voice in those days, I was invited by our choirmaster to assist in the concerts at Haileybury College. We had 120 voices and we reckoned we had Sir Henry Wood's orchestra behind us in the Galley Hall lounge, outdoor concerts.

JR: You were a good singer then?

RP: Well, it was passable, otherwise I wouldn't have been asked, but I was never a soloist. No, but it was good to have taken part in that. Oh, yes, Hilton Stewart was the music master there at the time. I believe he'd been a Somerset cricketer.

JR: So now you went to do an apprenticeship. Now where did you go for that?

RP: Simsons' of Hertford, prior to that being Simson Shand and the works was down by the memorial, which is now something offices.

Transcribers Note: In 2016 the building is the job centre plus on Parliament Square

JR: Yes, I know roughly where you mean.

RP: Beside it was the electricity offices at the time.

JR: There's an archway there, isn't there? Did you have to go through there?

RP: No, it was further on.

JR: Right, and what sort of firm were they?

RP: Commercial printers.

JR: Were they anything to do with Simson Pimms' now, the envelope factory?

RP: Yes, it was Simsons' then Pimm came into it some years later. And also the printing works became Simson Pimms' and so they took over both the envelope and the printing side.

JR: So there was quite a strong link there. And you were there for five years?

RP: Seven! Actually I didn't do the 5 years. I moved out from there and I worked at an envelope factory printing there until I was about 21.

JR: So you moved out before your time was, around about 5 years then. Where was the envelope factory you worked at?

RP: Swains' of Ware at the viaduct at Ware, beside the engineering firm, Wickham's.

JR: So you went back to Ware, but you travelled from Hertford?

RP: Yes, backwards and forwards!

JR: So, when you'd finished that, when did you start at, did you start straight away at Barnado's, or did you have a long career before then?

RP: No, I got the sack or I left at 21 and it was during the recession. Then, we had a very bad recession and I applied for printing jobs all over the place and I had to go on the dole. I used to have to queue up every morning to sign on. Not as it's done today, once a fortnight and draw your money. They made sure that you weren't working in those days. And I remember I was on for three weeks on the dole and there were fights, fighting in the offices. And I was so disgusted and I was only getting 12/-d a week, I just wrote myself off.

JR: Right.

End of Side A

Side B

JR: So that meant when you signed yourself off from queuing up you didn't receive any more money. So what did you do for money then?

RP: Well, I'd got a few pounds by me and of course not really realising that there was a depression as it was then, I bought myself a small printing plate and some type and endeavoured to work on my own. And I did this for some period of time. And then one day there came around the Kleeneze man selling brushes and he gave an order for some visiting cards and said how are things going and I said not too great. Well, he said, why don't you join me and travel round from door to door? It's better getting money that way. And I'd got a motorcycle at the time and so I could travel around with that too. And so for 12 months I travelled round some of the villages and knocked on the doors, it was rather humiliating for me, flogging Kleeneze brushes. But at least I was earning myself about £4 a week.

JR: Which was quite good then, wasn't it?

RP: It was good money. Well after I'd done that about 12 months there was a job going with the Prudential and it was supposed that if I'd got sauce enough to knock on doors, I got this job and I did that for 12 months. At the end of that 12 months I was sent for from Goldings because they knew I'd served my apprenticeship and they asked me to take on a job there temporarily and I did. And I was there for about a couple of years and then eventually they put me on to the staff. And that was about 1935 to 36. I attended the London College of Printing and got qualifications there, City and Guilds. In those days you had to pay and it was all in your own time. And I used to go twice a week to get these qualifications and I was accepted there as an instructor.

JR: Which was a very good break for you really, wasn't it? because you had started out on a printing apprenticeship. Then you had the depression coming when nobody really was in a good place for working. Everybody had to be careful didn't they, that they didn't lose their job because they couldn't get another one. Did you go on with that job 'til you retired then?

RP: I did. And in the mean time I became a house master for which I got another 10/-d a week which was a lot of money, but entailed you being on duty all day on a Sunday and so how many people would do that today?

JR: Well, no, that's right. Have you got any funny stories from that time of your life, any interesting things?

RP: Well, I don't know. There were funny things that happened. They naturally do when you're in a school. And I did quite a number of jobs in the school. Because during the war years I was taken out from my job as an instructor as a printer and ploughed the fields because the chappie that was doing that job was called up so someone had to drop in and carry on. I planted up the potatoes and that was an interesting time. We had to allow for, it's lovely in the spring and summer time but it's not so clever in the wintertime.

JR: No. Were you there all during the war?

RP: I was.

JR: You weren't called up then?

RP: No, because it was a job of national importance.

JR: Yes, I guessed that.

RP: There was an incident which we had, well, one incident that wasn't funny, but I was scared stiff, when a land mine dropped down. It hung up in the tree and it had to be got down. Well, our governor, then the Revd. McDonald, he got the bomb disposal unit in and they were a couple of naval chappies. One was an officer and the other one was a rating. And I always remember the officer went with the governor to lunch and the rating sat with me at the table having lunch. He was talking about his risky job because they came to defuse this land mine and he said “Well, you see, it's not a job you worry about. A pal of mine about 6 weeks ago was defusing this bomb and it went off and they didn't find a button.” And that was his attitude, not to worry. But then I remember the two of them walking across the field to take the fuse out of this bomb and them coming back afterwards and asking us to go over because they'd done their job. And I remember them packing up the silk parachute. And he showed me the detonator that came out of the bomb, the fuse, and he said, “Now I've got to get on with the next job. I want you to stand here and guard over this, 'til the Home Guard come.” By golly had I got the wind up! And he said, “Whatever you do, don't touch a thing because sometimes they booby trap these things.”

JR: So even though you've got the detonator out…?

RP: He told me of an incident where they took the detonator out of a bomb and the bomb disposal squad decided to drop into a cafe for a cup of tea. Some people saw this bomb or land mine on the back of the trailer and thought they'd have something off it and the whole thing blew up. But when I saw the Home Guard coming across the field I ran to greet them because I was scared stiff!

JR: They must have had some experience of these things. They knew what to look for, did they?

RP: Oh, yes, yes. I always remember this was on a Saturday afternoon because we'd sent all the boys away from Goldings. They were clear of anything that happened. I'd been in the dug out with the headmaster and his wife and on the Monday. They came to take this bomb away, this land mine away and I always remember they put it on the back of this truck, a kind of Land Rover, I think. And there was a chappie sitting astride this land mine, straddled up holding a board with “Danger! Unexploded Mine”. And he was sitting across it!

JR: Yes. Were they similar to the sea mines? Were they big and round with handles sticking out of them?

RP: They weren't so round. They were more like a barrel with a rounded end. The idea of these when they just touched the ground they exploded. The explosion went right across the top of the ground. With the bomb it makes a hole and it goes up that away! And they did far more damage and during the war years apart from being at Goldings. I was also in the Fire Service, as a part-timer. And we had one or two landmines as you probably know, that dropped in this town.

JR: So you were in the Hertford Fire Service?

RP: Yes.

JR: We'd done a tape with 'em. I just can't think of his name, Bob Harding! That's right.

RP: Bob Harding! I know him. He was a fireman. He used to drive the fire engine before the war.

JR: That's right. So you and he were working together.

RP: He was a full-time man and I was part-time but it meant you doing the job in the daytime and sometimes all night and then go back to work.

JR: He was a driving instructor.

RP: He was!

JR: At the same time. And I think he had to give up the fire brigade eventually because of his work as a driving instructor because they were out at night weren't they, quite often, and they had to be at their best in the morning for the lesson, and they couldn't do both.

RP: The first 10 nights when the Germans started bombing London I was out every night. And I'd get a little bit of sleep in between the sirens going off. I'd actually collapsed over my desk at school after 10 days. I just couldn't make it, just couldn't do it.

JR: Too tired!

RP: Yes!

JR: So, how many boys did you have there at one time?

RP: Well, we had various departments, you see. We had printing shoemaking, sheet metal work, carpentry, cabinet making, and gardening and our complement must have been around the 200 mark.

JR: Yes, yes. And the boys lived there, didn't they, or were they boarded out?

RP: Yes, split into seven houses, of which I was house master of one. They used to have inter-house competitions, football, cricket and athletics.

JR: So, if you were a house master and you had to work on Sundays how about in the evenings? How long? I mean, what sort of day did you have?

RP: A normal day without me being on duty that day. I'm going to say half past eight in the morning, 'til about half past four in the afternoon. But if I was on duty I'd be there at 7 o'clock in the morning apart from doing the job in the day. 7 o'clock in the morning to get them up and oversee meals, prayers and then about, let's see, tea, teatime, yes and eventually leave about half past eight in the evening after I'd seen them to bed. So it was pretty long days and sometimes you'd find that you were on a Saturday, so you were on Saturday afternoon and evening 'til about half past eight. I've even been on Christmas Day because someone had to be there. So, I don't know whether the younger generation would do that sort of thing! But I was glad of picking up that money. 10/-d meant a lot!

JR: Yes, it did, yes. So what staff were there during the night? It was staffed during the night, wasn't it, by other teaching staff?

RP: No, house staff.

JR: So you supervised that on your weekend shifts. What year did you get married, Reg?

RP: 1938.

JR: Oh, right. So you'd got your job in Goldings and been there three years or so. Where did you meet your wife?

RP: I met her on the Beane Road!

Transcribers Note: a few yards from his house

JR: Oh!

(Laughter)

RP: I'd seen her several times and naturally, I'd had girlfriends before. One I had for six years and then I got slung overboard so…

JR: Oh dear!

RP: I think this was a throwback. I was so upset and wanted to know someone. I'd seen her walking about and she looked my type. And one day I approached her and said would you like to come out with me one evening, because at that time I'd got a little car, too, in 193?, at that time, so that was…

JR: Oh well, you were a good proposition then!

RP: I was!

JR: Good. And she was the sister of Gladys. Was she an older sister or a younger sister?

RP: Younger!

JR: Younger sister than Gladys, right. And you got married in 1938. At Christ Church or St. Andrew's?

RP: No, the Baptist Church.

JR: Oh, Baptist, right. I thought Gladys said she went to St. Andrew's.

RP: Yes, she did. So did my wife because that was their nearest church. But in view of the fact I'd been an active member of the Baptist Church, I'd also been an officer in the Boys' Brigade there, she decided that we could get married there, so we did.

JR: Oh, good, that was good. And your brother, who was older than you?

RP: He was married, yes. He was also an instructor at Goldings.

JR: Oh, he was, too. What did he do?

RP: In printing.

JR: Oh, so you were both printers. Did you get on well together?

RP: Yes, extremely well.

JR: Did he stay there 'til he retired then?

RP: Yes he did.

JR: So there were two Purkises at Goldings then. You were married in 1938 and you had, let's look at your family tree, it's easier for me. You had your first daughter in 1940, that's Brenda.

RP: .And the first time I took her into the town we had to go in the bomb shelter, because there was an air-raid on.

JR: Yes. I should think, well, I often think of my mother, because I was born in 1940 as well. It must have been a very difficult time to be having children because you wanted to carry on. Obviously having a normal married life, produce children and have a home and everything. But, the worry of, of survival, just survival, must have been dreadful.

RP: Yes, it was terrible. But as time went, I mean to start with we had a mattress down here and slept downstairs. I got fed up with that, and just talking about air raids now, I mean everything became a normal way of life, really.

JR: Yes. I know. I remember very well, because I was living at that time in South-East London not far from Woolwich Arsenal and there was a lot of bombing going on around us and we had a cellar. A very big Victorian house and we used to go down to this cellar, several times a day. When the war finished, I was five and I remember thinking, I won't have to go down that cellar. And it was such a nice thing. You didn't have to keep listening for that awful noise. Because even as a child of three I suppose, I was trained to 'just go there when I heard the siren. I remember once my grandmother had just put the dinner on the table. I remember just picking this dinner up, I can only have been three or four, and just marching towards the cellar door. Then three years later you had Eileen. Is that right?

RP: Yes, Eileen.

JR: Then you had a son?

RP: Yes, David.

JR: 1947. David and Margaret, who unfortunately died.

RP: Died of cancer when she was about 35.

JR: Yes. That was sad, wasn't it? Gosh! And you brought them all up here, with your mother living here?

RP: Yes. My mother was actually here 18 years before eventually she realised that it was too much for my wife and suggested that she went into a home, which she did at Ware. Having got there, when she'd been there a couple of weeks, she wanted to come back.

JR: Yes, but she stayed there then?

RP: Yes.

JR: You said when I came before that you were a bit disappointed with the way Hertford had been. Don't know which word to use, really, changed, let's just say, in your time. Can you tell us a little bit about that? What you think's good and what you think is bad.

RP: Well. I think now they're probably introducing bigger stores into the town, it's killed the little shop man. There are so many vacant premises. Someone moves in and moves out. Years ago these people were there probably for their lifetime. And you had competition and it was interesting to see all these, different shops. I mean, really, I can't shop in this town today. I've got to go out and I don't want to go out of town. Another instance is the fact now they're talking about not delivering milk. At my age I don't want to have to go down to Waitrose or Tesco. I mean, it's getting past me now, to get milk and then today, if I run out of a loaf of bread I've got to go into town to get it. Whereas you had your baker. You had your milkman. You had your coalman. Thank goodness I haven't got to worry about him, but these are things I miss.

JR: And you had a number of little shops, didn't you? You had Briden's along Port Vale

RP: Yes. You see they've done away with this little general shop. And we had a local post office. It only took me about three minutes to get there. Now I've got to go into town and I don't always feel like walking. They haven't considered us older people.

JR: I think life revolves around the car.

RP: It does. I had a car up to last year. I think that was pretty good going to go up to the age of 85! Because, I mean life has become so fast and so many cars there's no pleasure in driving. It might be all right for the younger ones today but…

JR: They're over used, though, that's the problem.

RP: They are over used.

JR: If they were just used where there was no alternative, that's different. But where I live, there are a lot of young people living in Willowmead and I know that they just get the car out to drive to the garage to get a paper, which is five minutes' walk at the most, each way. Because they're not gone long enough to get anything else anywhere and they're fit healthy young people in their 20s, who then park the car and then later on in the day go out jogging!

RP: Yes. I'd like to see Hertford back as it was about 1938.

JR: Yes, just before the war.

RP: When you had a real good bus service, coach service. Your railway service was pretty good, too. And then in those days the shops used to be open until 8 o'clock at night. And the open market was flourishing. And loads of people used to come in from out of town because their only method of transport was through the buses and the coaches, frequent services, too.

JR: So the villages were quite well served.

RP: They were.

JR: And there was much more rail travel as well. There was that Buntingford line going then, wasn't there, which was closed down in the '60s, I believe. It was much more accessible, public transport, wasn't it, to the local market town.

RP: It was. We were promised that that would continue, but it hasn't done so. You are stuck with the road transport. We also had this railway line running to Hatfield and Welwyn Garden City which I've travelled on many a time.

JR: That's important. East-west connections by public transport are very poor, always have been apart from that railway, which was a good thing. You can get from north to south quite easily, but east-west not. Now, can you remember, the last bit I'll ask you about is, we've been hearing on these tapes a lot about the eccentric characters, Hertford characters that people remember both before and after the war, people like Miss Hoad. Do you remember her? Polly Betts, from St. Andrew Street. I don't know whether you remember any of these people. And another chap who lived in the Poets' Corner complex called Chitty Wren.

Trancriber’s Note: Poets Corner is now the exit from St Andrew Street car park.

RP: Chitty Wren! He used to have a tricycle.

JR: Tell us about him. People give us different versions of Chitty Wren.

RP: Well, if it's the Chitty Wren that I knew, it wasn't the barber, the hairdresser that was up there, because he used to have a tricycle.

JR: I don't think he was called Wren, was he, the barber?

RP: Now. I don't know. Someone was trying to tell me the other day that that was Chitty Wren.

JR: I think there were two of them that lived very close together. That's why people have got them mixed. One person told us that he had a bicycle, a three-wheel bicycle that you pedalled. And another person told us no, no, it was a motorised three-wheeler with a kind of basketwork seat or something on it. Anyway, you tell me!

RP: The barber, who wasn't Wren, he had a seat on the back and he used to sit his wife on that.

JR: Facing the other way to him?

RP: Facing backwards.

JR: Back to back, right, got that one, yes.

RP: And it was recorded in the Mercury that he'd travelled down to Brighton and back, with that woman (!), with his wife on the back. I could hardly believe it, but

Transcribers Note: The barber was Harry Whitby, who had a basket seat for his wife

JR: Was it a pedal cycle?

RP: Yes! Tricycle! But the Chitty Wren that I knew, we used to know him as the Midnight Milkman.

JR: Oh! That's a new name!

RP: He used to come round about 7 o'clock at night with the milk churns with his milk and I suppose it was so late in the day they called him the Midnight Milkman.

JR: Oh, so where did he get his milk from?

RP: Well, where I wouldn't know. Whether he bought the milk and did it as his own business, or what, I don't know. Or whether he worked for someone. But he had a tricycle and he also used to play the concertina.

JR: Yes. I think it must be the same one because people are saying he used to entertain them at night outside their bedroom windows.

RP: I used to pay him to come along Christmas Eve to play under the, my window, here outside this door.

JR: Playing by appointment was it?

RP: Yes, more or less. I knew him well because I used to belong to the Unionist Club and he was a member. Oh, I knew Freddy, Freddy Wren!

JR: His real name was Fred, was it, right. But where did he live then, in Poets' Corner?

RP: He did. He moved out and there are some, the wooden houses almost, at the Queens Road roundabout, on the right-hand side going towards the, by the memorial. He lived in one of those.

JR: Oh, yes, yes, I think it's called Millers Court now

RP: Is it?

JR: Well, somewhere in that area.

RP: These wooden houses were on the road then on the pavement almost. And I used to go there just before Christmas and see Freddy and say, “Look, I want you on Christmas Eve playing carols.” And the kids used to have the front window and hang their heads outside and listen to him. This must have been in the '40s and early '50s.

JR: Yes. So you didn't know anything about this rather eccentric lady that kept a sweet shop in St. Andrew Street?

RP: Oh, was she the one that, flannel feet we used to call her?

JR: Yes.

RP: Oh, yes. I didn't know her name was Miss Hoad. She used to walk down St. Andrew Street in the middle of the road and her feet were swathed in bandages. Yes, her parents kept the sweet shop, that's it.

JR: Right, she worked in there, didn't she?