Transcript Detail
| Transcript Title | Pride, Len (O1995.11) |
| Interviewee | Len Pride (LP) |
| Interviewer | Rachel Savory (RS) |
| Date | 25/01/1994 |
| Transcriber by | Irene Garrad-Storey |
Transcript
Hertford Oral History Group
Recording no 1995.11
Interviewee: Len Pride (LP)
Date: 25th January1994
Venue: Datchworth
Interviewer: Rachel Savory (RS)
Transcriber: Irene Garrad-Storey
************** unclear recording
[discussion] untranscribed material
italics editor’s notes
RS: It's 25th January 1994 and I'm here in LP Pride's sitting room in Datchworth with a wonderful coal fire burning in the fireplace and his very favourite spaniel looking adoringly at Len while he eats some carrot cake.
LP: ....... Dixon, Leather Merchant, which is now Roche , Shoe Mender.
RS: Whereabouts was he?
LP: . He's was on the Old Cross as well and he used to live at Waterford. And I knew Fred Roche and his brother.
RS: He's still there.
LP: Fred is, yeah, not his brother, he's dead.
Transcribers note: Actually Eddie Roche died in 1995
RS: I know Fred.
LP: He was the youngest, Fred was . I knew his daughter. I went out with 'er…yes and I introduced her to old Bill Hay at Panshanger and he married her.
RS: Goodness. What did he do at Panshanger?
LP: He was a farmer at one time. Very good friend o' mine he was. I go down there now and see 'im sometimes, not 'er. Miserable cow she was. I bet If I went to the back door she'd lock the door. She wouldn't open it. She'd go upstairs out the way and look out the window.
Transcribers Note: The Hay family had lived at the Holwell Stud until their father’s death in 1913. Their widowed mother and the 5 children then moved to Bacons Farm, Bramfield which had once been the home of the diarist John Carrington. The Hay family were James a 1879-1913 and Jessie 1879-1972 who had married in Scotland and come down the Hertfordshire. The children were Robert (known as Bob) 1901-1983, Agnes 1902-1993, John (known as Jack) 1904-01992, James (known as Jim) 1908-2003, William (known as Bill) 1911 to c2010.
Bill Hay married a Miss Margery Nina Smith, whose father had died in WW1 and her widowed mother had married Edmund Sarsfield Roche the brother of Frederick and Uncle of Eddie.
RS: What, Fred's daughter? Oh dear.
LP: Yeah. Terrible she was. I reckon there was something wrong with 'er.
RS: And you went out with her?
LP: Yeah. She was a pretty girl mind yer. My God she was.
RS: What about Rush?
LP: He was a very big friend of my family - the old man Rush.
RS: And Len, where were you born?
LP: 17th February 1913 in Chester-le-Street, County Durham, in the Osbourne Club.
RS: A Club, why were you in a Club?
LP: Dad was a publican, wasn't he? Conservative Club It was. When we first moved down south we lived in Nelson Street.
RS: In lower Bengeo
LP: Not far from the North Station now.
RS: What number?
LP: I think it was number 12. I was only a baby then. My father used to breed chows, show dogs. And my mother used to take me round the town with the chow dog never on a lead but just a yard from my pram and if anybodv stopped…
RS: Tell us what you remember about Panshanger.
LP: Panshanger, hmm. Some interesting times there. I used to go up there a lot when I was about 14 or 15 with old Tempest and we used to go down to the river every night. They'd got a swimming pool down there where Lord and Lady Desborough used to go but you wasn't allowed to get there before 9 o'clock at night because they never altered their clocks. 10 o'clock our time that'd be 9 o'clock their time. There were 45 servants at Panshanger then.
RS: In 'the house?
LP: Yeah and every two servants had their own bedroom (two servants to a bedroom) and their own sitting room. Cor, we had some good times there. We used to have servants' balls s there. Lord and Lady Desborough used to come in at quarter to ten their time. That was only a quarter to nine our time. They'd start the dancing off. There was a band there. They'd start it off.
RS: Was this the servants’ hall? Where was the ball held?
LP: One of the big rooms at Panshanger. Yeah, then they used to go off to bed and when they got to the door they'd stop and say, “Well gentlemen, enjoy yourselves. There are two butlers here to wait on you. There's plenty of servants. Make 'em do it:' We had plenty of beer or whiskey. and bottles, and bottles
RS: Really,
LP: In them days, when we finished, about 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning. They 'ad 4 donkeys in that paddock just behind Panshanger what belonged to one of the granddaughters. We used to catch 'em and ride 'em round the field.
RS: That was fun.
LP: Those old donkeys don't 'arf want some riding yer know. Worse than a 'orse, yeah. Cor, we used to have some fun there. And down the swimming pool we used to get 'old some o' them old
girls and duck 'em in and they used to scream blue murder. Yep!
RS: How old were you then? Was this when you were 14 or when you were older?
LP: 15, 17 or 18.
RS: Did you work there?
LP: No I used to work at Hay's at one time. You know, Bill Hay. On the farm.
RS: Is this the man you were talking about?
LP: Mmm. He had the best horses in Hertfordshire, Clydesdales. We went from Hay's Farm at Panshanger to Barnet Market in 5 minutes under an hour on one of 'em. Talk about stepping out, she could.
RS: Did it have a cart behind?
LP: Yeah. Just an ordinary little cart with 5 or 6 calves in there. She used to trot in. She'd only been in shafts once before that.
RS: Well handled.
LP: Oh gawd yes. The eldest brother, Bill's eldest brother, he was ploughing a field along the end o' Panshanger on the Hertford Road called Sele Broom one day and he was gettin' ready for ploughing match and he could plough.
RS: How many horses?
LP: Two.
RS: One behind the other?
LP: No, side by side, and he'd never touch a rein. They knew every word Bob said to 'em. And this old boy from McMullen's came along one day and he'd just got the sack from McMullen's and wanted a job and Bob said, "I'll give yer a job. These two buggers ain't no good." That was Bob and me. We were the two youngest there. He said "If you finish that furrow up as straight-as It is now,” he said, ''I'll give you a job." And I said to Bill, "Christ we're gonna see some fun 'ere now and some swearing.” He said " Why ?" I said "He's only gotta touch them reins and away they'll go and 'e won't stop 'em.” He got about ten yards up the field and pulled the rein on old Daisy and she got on the trot. Barney got: on the trot beside 'er and then they got on the full gallop and smashed the plough to smithereens. Bob created hell, “Bloody 'orse keeper,” he said, “You're no good as a bloody 'orse keeper. What good are you?”
RS: What was the name of the man from McMullen's?
LP: I don't know 'is name but he was a horse keeper there anyway for a year. But there's a lot or difference between driving along the road with a dray with beer on it and ploughing a field.
He got that furrow, that was straight as a gun barrel. Well 'e had 17 firsts at ploughing and 17 firsts for them two horses in 17 year, and then they decided that he wasn't in County and then he said, "Oh well it that's how you feel that's the last you'll see of me.” He never went to another ploughing match after that. Oh he had a good team. I was talking to his wife the other week. Old Jean. They had a little old dog at the farm, Toby 'e was called, a terrier. He'd do anything. He killed rats, stoats, weasels, and eat 'em. He'd kill foxes underground. We'd take him out on the lawn when we'd finished harvesting at night and Bob would be laying down. We used to love to torment Bob and 'e used to get ratty and we used to torment him, get a stick and get round beside him and Toby would stick his bristle up and go for Bob. 'E wouldn't go fer us. What we were striking at on the floor. He'd do t. ... all. Yeah. We did laugh. Honestly we used to have some fun. We used ter start milking at half past four in the morning.
RS: Who were you working tor then?
LP: Hay's. Oh yeah, we 'ad cows and a short horn bull there. Bill and me used to have to feed and water 'em when we come in wi' the 'orses at night and if 'e didn't drink the water we used to throw it over 'im and a bloke named Sid Morley from Hatfield was a dealer. They were goin' to sell 'im this shorthorn bull because they were going in fair shares and old Sid come over and said, "I'll come over with a float and I'll soon put 'im at that.”
And I said, “Yeah you'll put 'im in alright mate."
And he said “Why?”
And I said “He's a ????.”
And 'e put a walking stick through 'is ring and Christ, the bull went for 'im. He dropped the walking stick and went and got in front or the lorry and the bull got loose and 'e 'ad a hell of a job. There was only one way you could get 'im in the shed and that was by stoning 'im out 'o the stable.
RS: What?
LP: Yeah, you daren't go into the yard. 'E would 'ave yer, safe as houses. Gawd, 'e was a bugger that bull. It was Bill and me made 'im like it because we used to throw the water at ‘im if 'e wouldn't drink it.
RS: Terrible. But if that's the only way to move it.
LP: Yeah, that's the only way you could shift 'm. As soon as you threw a stone 'e'd go.
RS: You didn't have to throw lots of stones.
LP: No, no, you'd throw one and got 'im on the move and then pick up a little stone and throw behind 'im and 'ed keep going and get back in the box. I see Jack going in to feed 'im one night and he dropped the grub and the bloody bull come at 'im and 'e backed towards the door, Jack did, butt pushing 'im and as 'e got to the door Bob stood there with a lump of iron and as 'e got to the door Bob said, "Let go of 'im," and 'e hit 'im between the ear and the horn and got that bull on the floor.
RS: Killed him or stunned him?
LP: Yeah.
RS: Stunned him?
LP: Yeah, stunned 'im. Bob was good.
RS: That was a good shot - you only get one shot at a bull like that,
LP: Bob was a good bloke. He could pick two and a quarter cwt of wheat straight off the ground onto his back, Bob could.
RS: Strong man.
LP: He was a strong man. And none of 'em used to drink yer know. Did you know John Barber who used to be in Hertford, the old man?
RS: No, I never met him.
LP: Tall chap, dark hair and he used to come round every Friday for orders and 'e went to Mrs Haley's door one day, rattled on the front door, and they 'ad an old Airedale there (Chip) and Mrs Haley didn't know 'e was there and 'e got hold o' John Barber's wrist and 'e 'eld 'im, as much as to say, "You come any further!" Yeah, the old dog would,. He'd 'ave bit 'im. Bob went up to 'im with a 'orse and cart one day and Chip was laying under the cart and an Alsatian came out after 'em and anyway, Bob got off the cart with a whip and got rid of 'im. He said, “I'll shift him and let old Chip under the cart loose. Followed him under the cart. Walked under the cart. Then 'e stood up. 'E could see this Alsatian comin' and 'e said go on and the old dog went.
RS: And he was an Airedale.
LP: Yeah.
RS: Tell me where the farm was Len . Whereabouts was the farm?
LP: It's still there.
RS: What's it called?
LP: Bacon's Farm. Yeah. Bob used to go and buy a 'orse after tea at night and bring it 'ome and break it in that night and put it in the cart next mornin'.
RS: What a wonderful man with horses.
LP: Yeah, every word 'e said to them 'orses they knew. Bought one off the gypos. That was the only one we couldn't cure. A black mare, and she 'ad a foal, well she 'ad two foals up there but the first foal she' ad she used to have to break 'er in every Monday mornin'. She was a right bugger. You couldn't put 'er in shafts. No, she'd smash the cart all to bits. She wouldn't go in the shafts. But she kept in work. She was a good mare.
RS: Did you do any racing.
LP: No, not there. I done a bit tor Paul's grandfather. Old Mr Barker used to be at Sacombe. Done a bit tor 'im.
RS: Point to pointing?
LP: Yeah, went up Panshanger Aerodrome one Sunday and I was a riding a 'orse called, Oh blimey what was 'is name, Ben Boy, one he'd bought and 'e could motor. He was one of Hyperion's sons.
RS: Yes, I know, a thoroughbred.
LP: And old Lionel Ensum 'e was riding Sheriff and 'e said, "You'd better follow behind Curly. You'll never keep up with us.
RS: They called you Curly, didn't they?
LP:·Yeah.
So I said to the old man, "I'll show 'em whether I can keep up with 'em.”
“No!” 'e said, “Let 'em go round once and then follow 'em round a second time. Then 'ave a game with 'em.”
Went round the first time and I was about ten yards behind 'em all the while, hanging for grim death on this 'orse. Got me feet in the stirrups and really pushing 'im and I wasn't no weakling them days and got about half way round and thought, "Hello, Uncle Pete's beginning to slow.”
And the other one, Trevelek's was the other one. I'll never forget. And they'd won everything them 'orses, and I said to Len, "Come on mate, we shall 'ave to go 'ome.” And I give him his head and Christ, 'e just left 'em for dead. And 'e said, "Christ, 'e can motor, can't 'e?”
And I said "No, I've got his legs tied".
I told Mrs Sheriff, when she wanted to beat us in the farmers' race one day at Enfield Point-to-Point. She said, "Oh we shall beat yer. We're putting Uncle Pete in."
And I said, "I don't care a bugger who you're puttin' in.
And she said, "Ah, he'll leave yer standing."
And I said, "We shall see."
That 'orse won two races that day.
RS: Two races?
LP: Yeah, 'e won that and 'e won the Open.
RS: And were you riding him both times?
LP: No, a woman rode 'im in the ladies' race. She said, "What have I got to do?” I said, "Sit and 'old tight first time round and then the second time just drop back your shoulder but for goodness sake 'old tight because 'e'll jump 20 yards over them fences. Yeah, had some good times point-to-pointing.
RS: Where was the Enfield point-to-point held, Len?
LP: Just up beside Newgate Street. That was when point-to-pointing was point-to-pointing.
I mean them 'orses they'd never been raced, not ours. You get point-to-pointing but they was too good for that. They should 'ave been chasing.
RS: Had they been hunting?
LP: Yeah, yeah. They moaned about us that day when we run one 'orse in two races. And I said, "Hold on, I took that 'orse from Watton-at-Stone to Newgate Street, hunting him for 5 hours, and then walked all the way home with 'im and you reckon I'm doing too much with 'im. What the hell are you talking about. That's worse for 'im on the road than it is on the racecourse." They got as ratty as hell. They couldn't do nothin' about it.
RS: And you walked him?
LP: No, rode 'im.
RS: You rode him?
LP: Hacked 'im up there. Hunted 'im for five hours
RS: What was the weather like? It must have been good to ride him all that way.
LP: Well, it was in the winter time. But there you are. You just 'ad to do it.
RS: Were you on your own or did you have a mate?
LP: No, went on me own with 'im and that's a long way when you're riding a 'orse all that distance. And then they tell you you can't race 'im. The race is only 2 mile, 2 mile and a half or 3 mile and that's only 6 miles and blimey what's it from Hertford or Watton-at-Stone to Newgate Street? That's more than 6 mile, innit?
RS: And this was Paul's grandfather?
LP: Yeah.
RS: Was he a hunting man?
LP: Yeah. They never used to like point-to-point. No, they 'ad an old grey.
One day we were gonna ….
And I said to Ron, Ron Monk was gonna ride the other one, and I said to Ron, I said, "Are you gonna give me a lead then at these fences?"
"Yes!" he said, "If you like.”
And I said, "The old grey'Il jump."
And 'e come along there by McCready's farm and that's a low-lying bit. They used to call it the old racetrack years ago. And there's a ditch along this hedge; hedge in front of it then the ditch. And I dragged meself back a bit. Let 'im take the lead to give me a lead over, you know. I daren't tell you what 'e said to me afterwards though. And I was up the side of 'im and I went over this fence, over the water and kept going and old Ron 'e got shot over the top and bloody 'orse shot 'im in the water and 'e got wringing wet.
RS: What did he refuse?
LP: I knew 'e wouldn't jump it. Ha, ha, ha, ha. We used to be buggers then. But kids just don't enjoy themselves like we used to. I don't think so.
RS: No, they're frightened to I think. I think they've got the television now.
LP: Yeah, yeah. But I dunno. I mean we used to think nothin' of walking to Hertford on a Saturday and Sunday night. Take a couple of birds out.
RS: Where did you take them to, Len?
LP: Well, we used to just walk up the Ware Road or round the churchyard or down Castle Street, anywhere.
RS: Were there pubs there?
LP: We didn't go in the pubs that much 'cos we couldn't afford it.
RS: How much was beer then?
LP: 4d. a pint.
RS: And how much were you earning?
LP: When I first got married I was earning 32/- a week.
RS: What were you doing?
LP: Head horse keeper on the farm.
RS: On Mr Hay's farm?
LP: No, on Ted Thrussell’s Farm.
RS: Ted who?
LP: Ted Thrussell at the Garden City. Used to go about with his youngest daughter, Marion, when she wasn't with Sherriff.
Laughter
Oh yeah, we used to 'ave some fun. I mean if you got in a scrap you fought with yer 'ands. You didn't 'ave bottles and knives and guns and all that sorta thing. I mean I 'ad a gun when I was about fifteen or sixteen years old but you'd never think about taking that to Hertford with yer. Blimey you'd 've got tippled over with coppers, because coppers were 'arder in those days.
RS: Would they?
LP: Oh yes, yes. I 'ad a friend, a copper in Tewin, George Reeves, and it was 'im got me to go in it for a time.
RS: What, being a copper?
LP: Yeah. And we walked down Tewin one night and I stood talking to 'im just all the green and a Chap named Tyler from Burnham Green was always kicking up rows with everybody. And George said somethin' to 'im. I don't know what he said, nothing to offend 'im anyway but 'e said, "Old George, you're alright. You've got a bloody uniform to 'ide behind.” And Christ, George Reeves threw 's coat orf and he threw it down and I thought, "Gawd! I don't know what's gonna 'appen 'ere.” Before 'e came there, George, he was champion boxer of the Yorkshire Police. He got laid into Tyler and his white shirt was red. And I said to George, "For Christ's sake pack up.” He said, "I'll kill any bugger that tells me that. I don't want a bloody uniform for that."
RS: That's how they were.
LP: Oh yes, yeah.
RS: What date was that, Len?
LP: Oh Gawd knows.
RS: How many years ago?
LP: Oh years, more years than I care to think about. I could write a good book If I had somebody to put it all together, you know. That is, someone who understands it, I don't. I can write but … (to dog) "Get down!" "Get down!”
RS: Now Len, I'm going to ask you about your life as a gamekeeper.
LP: Yeah, fire away then.
RS: When did you start as a gamekeeper?
LP: When I was 10.
RS: And what did you do then?
LP: I went gamekeeping with a chap up the woods 'ere, named Jago and I used to be scared out of my life at nights because I could always hear a kid screaming.
RS: Did you find out what it was?
LP: Yeah, but 'e didn't tell me till we got close to it. He knew what It was. He made out 'e couldn't hear it.
RS: Was It a fox?
LP: Yeah, calling 'er cubs. Just like a baby crying it is when you hear It at night and never heard it before. But now I suppose I wouldn't take no notice. I mean you could be walking in the wood and just beside yer an old deer would just start barking. That makes you jump but you know what that: is but I didn't know what that was at the time. The first poacher I ever caught was up that hay wood here. He was an ex-policeman.
RS: A North London policeman?
LP: No, here, yeah. And Jago always had the same old dog with him, a black coat retriever. He was always with him, never without 'im. He used to say, "You go out the front and I'll go out the back and that old dog'lI come to you.” And he did an' all. And I tripped old Gibby up and 'e said "Let me get up there and I'll bloody shoot yer". He bloody would an' all.
RS: Who's Gibby?
LP: Bloke we caught, this ex-policeman. I said, "You bloody won't. I'll whop you cross the ear-hole with this bloody stick.” Oid Jago come up and we took 'im to Stevenage Court and 'e got fined 5 shillings. We took four pheasants from 'im.
RS: Who owned the woods?
LP: Abel Smith but Sir Geoffrey Swan used to shoot it. We never used to rear no birds. We used to shoot as many birds as they do now but never reared any.
RS: Why?
LP: Well, there were plenty of wild birds about.
RS: What's the difference now?
LP: Well, it's just mass murder/slaughter. I watched 'em this year and they've been shootin' birds no further from here to that corner away. They bring a load of birds with 'em in the back of the truck, put 'em in the pen and half-an-hour later they turn round and shoot 'em. They don't know where they're flying to. Well them birds now, a lot or 'em are over 'ere. It's alive with 'em over 'ere. But It's quiet, you see, out there. I said to Mick several times, I said, “When I feel a bit better I'm gonna take my dog over there.
LP: Then you'd be had up for poaching!
LP: Yeah but some places have been burying 'em this year.
RS: Can't sell 'em.
LP: I 'ad a chap come in 'ere the other week who used to be a keeper over Bays Wood. He weren't no good but 'e 'elps a man at Silsoe near Bedford. He was a keeper and he's about 70/80, my age. He said, "I buried 38 brace of pheasants yesterday!' I sat there and 'e sat here and I sais "You're a nice bugger," just like that.He said "Why?" I said "Well, I envy you," I said, "I can't get out o' the bloody 'ouse."
LP: He said "Do you want some?" And I said, "Yes, bring us a couple or three braces.” And 'e come up on the Sunday night and brought me 3 braces. He said, "We bury 'em every week." He says, “The game dealers don't want 'em. The game dealer we deal with, Hull's the name, told us he's got three thousand brace o' pheasants 'anging up there which 'e couldn't sell."
RS: That's terrible.
LP: Yeah, They're gettin' Chinese now, ain't they? Bloody Sainsbury's and that are getting Chinese, buying in Chinese, already dressed, and a lot or 'em ain't shot.
RS: At £7 a brace.
LP: £8!
RS: £8 a brace?
LP: Yeah, I reckon it's bloody wicked meself.
RS: So when you started gamekeeping, how old were you?
LP: 16 or 17.
RS: And that was your first job?
LP: Yeah.
RS: And where did you live then?
LP: When I first started I lived at Bramfield. That was before I was married, before 1938. I got married in 1938. I was courting at the time, anyway. You'll never believe this. I went along the road one night on me bike, well, one Sunday afternoon it was, in the summertime, and I saw these three girls in the woods, near some chestnut trees, and I went attar 'em. You know, keen. And 'I said, "What are you up to?"
And they said, "We're just picking a few chestnuts up."
And I said, "You're not supposed to do that."
And they said, "We only want a few."
And I said, "Alright! I'll let you off this time."
The first time I took 'er out I was playing cricket for Burnham Green and that was six year before 1938 because I was courting six year.
RS: Were you?
LP: Yeah!
RS: And did you court on a bicycle?
LP: Yeah, couldn't afford nothing else in them days. She used to ride from Burnham Green down to Cambridge, her and another girl who lives at Woolmer Green now, old Glad? They used to think nothin' of biking to Cambridge.
RS: Well, there wasn't the traffic, was there?
LP: No. No. Well, if you didn't bike how did you get there because there was no buses, not a lot o' buses anyway. It was either walk or push bike, wasn't it?
RS: Yes.
LP: I mean if you got a bus coming out o' Hertford at night the last one was 9 o'clock or half past 9. All you 'ad to do then was go up the pub, Make sure your mate was up there so you'd got another good mare on the dartboard so you didn't buy no beer. You made other people pay for your beer.
RS: Because you were on the dartboard?
LP: Yeah,
RS: That's pretty cunning.
LP: Old Cecil Hart and me (he's still alive the other side o' Nazeing.) He's same age as me, three weeks older, We got on the board and we were there all night. And they only used to pay ½ a pint a game. It was only 2d. them days, and we'd be on there all night. We went to Balls Park to a fair and they 'ad the darts up there, yer know. Balls Park at Hertford, yer know and we went on the darts. Old Chase his name was, you know, christened, that's the name we used to call 'im. His real name was Cecil. And 'e said, "Let's go on them darts." And I said, "I don't know as I want to go on that, 'cos you stood in the normal place first shot and then you took one step forward for the next shot and then you took two steps back for the third shot.
RS: That was difficult.
LP: It was, 'cos you 'ad a different throw all the time. At the finish we couldn't get on there. No one would let us go on.
RS: Too good.
LP: Yeah, we earned four quid each.
RS: You were rich!
LP: That was ten bob you got for winning. They'd got us two weighed up. We couldn't get on any more. See you don't get anything like that these days now. They give you some sorta teddy bear now.
RS: Well four quid’s not much nowadays, is it?
LP: No. No. That: was a lotta money in them days though.
RS: How much was a loaf of bread in those days?
LP: 4½d.
RS: And cigarettes?
LP: Woodbines was 2d for 5, 4d. For 10, Players ???? for 20.
RS: And petrol?
LP: Oh blimey! When I first 'ad a car It was 1/10 or 1/11 a gallon.
RS: What date was that?
LP: I first 'ad a motorbike about 1936, I trunk it was. I was a mad bugger, yeah. That was a Norton. That was the right sort a bike but I come off alright with It and then I sold it an' bought a car and with about half a quids worth a petrol your tank would be full up. For halt a quid now you'd not get half a gallon, would yer?
RS: No.
LP: I mean, I've got a little old car in the garage. One that I bought from that bloke who's got Tewin Garage. He said, "Here y'are! Here's a good buy for yer."
And I said, "How much?"
And he said, "2½” (250) and that's a B registration and does 50 mile to the gallon and it don't use any oil and people say, "What you got a small car like that for?"
And I say, "It's the only bugger I can afford!" And that's quite true. You can't afford big cars these days. How some of these people run about here in these cars I just don't know. I mean Nicola takes me out in 'er little old Fiesta. Sometimes I let 'er take me but not very often. Janine takes me out in 'er's.
RS: They're all moon-lighting.
LP: No, Janine does just the one job.
RS: No, the other guys.
LP: Oh yeah, yeah, they must be. I was never (inaudible)
RS: Tell me about Barnet Horse Fair.
LP: Oh gawd! You've gotta watch your step up there. We bought a lot of 'orses up there, farm 'orses. You can't got caught on farm horses like you can on point-to-pointers or racehorses. But you know, I think the best point-to-pointer I ever rode in my life was Grand Parr.
RS: Who was he?
LP: Belonged to Paul's grandfather. Best 'orse ever I rode. He was a thoroughbred.
RS: Did he come from Barnet Fair?
LP: Lord no! No fear! He come from Ireland. That took three days to catch 'im when we let 'im out in the field at night. When we first brought 'im 'ere. There was a hedge just as high as that and 'e 'ad a go at that. He would never be in point-to-pointing.
RS: As high as the room.
LP: It took us three days to catch 'im.
RS: What's the best way to catch a horse?
LP: Well, we took another one in the field and enticed 'im up in the corner. I mean, we didn't run away from 'em. We stood our ground with 'em. And as he went by we grabbed 'is halter.
RS: And hung on.
LP: Yeah, 'e was alright Once you got 'im in 'e was as right as rain. But look out when you put a saddle on 'im at first. Oh, he could fly buck He frightened me fly buckin'. I bet he could fly buck from the ground up to that picture, straight up, all fours, and if anybody tried to overtake 'im point-to-pointing 'e Would throw them out o' the saddle it they were 'olding on.
RS: Sounds a pretty stunning horse.
LP: Grand 'orse to ride though. There was only one thing on the road 'e wouldn't go by.
RS: What was that,a culvert?
LP: No, Could ride 'im by that without gettin' off 'im but I could ride 'im them days. No 'orse could unseat me. And I was noted for sitting on 'im. I went to Bennington one Sunday mornin'. I'd been hunting with 'im on the Saturday and I took 'im out for exercise on the Sunday mornin' and I thought, "What's he stopping for, going on towards Bennington?" And I was looking at 'im and thought, “I can't hear nothing.” And there wasn't a thing on the road only a bloody wheelbarrow and I got up to it about as near to that cupboard off it.
RS: 5 feet away tram it.
LP: Yeah, and 'e went straight up in the bloody air. “Whoa,” I said, “You bugger" and I laid a whip down 'im and just made 'im hurt. He didn't like it then. He didn't want a whip on -im. I got off 'im and I led 'im by and I led 'im up to it and 'e didn't want to go near it then. So what upset: 'im with a wheelbarrow we shall never know. 'Cos he's dead now, so we shall never know. Hounds in the wood, they could go under 'im. Foxes could go under 'im and 'e just stood there and let 'em go. You could rattle a whip down the side of 'im if he'd got hounds coming towards 'im and if you didn't want 'em to go by you could rattle your whip to your heart's content and 'e wouldn't budge but a wheelbarrow, never could get 'im by, not on 'is back. I could lead 'im by. I stood on Watton Bridge with trains running under and steam coming all over the top and 'e didn't take a blind bit o' notice of it.
RS: That was a wonderful horse, wasn't it?
LP: Yeah, 'e never used to take any notice of It. Yet a wheelbarrow he just would not go by. Nobody was there with it. A bloke was just standing there and clipping his hedge and it was as if
'e said, "No, I'm not gonna go by that mate." And I had to get off and lead 'im I did.
RS: He was alright while he was being lead?
LP: Yeah, he'd lead by it alright, as long as you got far enough away, on the grass at the other side of the road. He wouldn't walk by it close. You couldn't even lead 'im up to it.
RS: At the Barnet Horse Fair, Len, did they have an auction or did people just walk around and exhibit their horses?
LP: Well, they do 'ave auctions but most of 'em are 'orse dealers up there. What you do. You sell a 'orse and then you try 'em. They let you ride 'em on the common up there and if you get one you fancy ask 'em what they want for it, give 'em about 'arf what they want for it. They're all bloody crooks up there.
RS: Did they have stolen horses or did they not steal them in those days?
LP: No, they didn't steal no 'orses in them days, no. Never heard of It in them days. I mean, we've 'ad twenty or thirty horses at old Ted ???? come off the railway at 12 o'clock at night what we used to buy at Elephant and Castle.
RS: Elephant and Castle?
LP: Yeah, they used to 'ave 'orse sales there.
RS: Did they?
LP: Yeah you could get some good 'orses up there.
RS: Where did they come from?
LP: All over the place.
RS: And they railed them in?
LP: Yeah.
RS: And rode them out?
LP: Yeah, we used to put 'em on the railway and rush home in the car, and be at Welwyn Garden City Station when they come in. Then we'd get 'em off and put 'em in the yard and next morning sort out what we was gonna keep and what we was gonna sell. I was with Marion Thrussle when she got all her teeth knocked out of 'er 'ead. That 'orse came from Elephant and Castle. A big black 'un it was. We bought two that day, a black 'un and a piebald and that come from Bertram Mills Circus. And old Ted every hedge 'e 'ad on the farm there was a jump so 'e never 'ad to get off and open gates or anything. 'E would just jump. That piebald would do it a treat. He'd stand and jump. And we 'ad a gravel pit just at the bottom and a footbridge and Ted would get down there on a Sunday morning and give 'em an exhibition. Take the 'orse right down to the edge o' the pit and when 'e saw the edge o' the pit he'd just creep along. He'd just creep along like that on his toes and when 'e got to the edge he'd just put 'is two feet over and get down on his arse, slide straight down and go like hell when 'e got to the bottom.
RS: How amazing:
LP: But the black 'un he'd 've made a good (inaudible) ditched Marion. Yes, and 'e made to jump the ditch and he was one side and she went right over the other side. Knocked all 'er teeth out. She was only about twenty then. I see Old Ted Shoot a 'orse once on the road. This woman was riding it and somebody had upset it and somebody broke its leg. And old Ted come along there. And a bloke said to Ted, "You ain't got a .22 with you 'ave yer?” And 'e said, "I can soon get it." And he went and got the .22 and bang. That was it. You'd have had to wait for somebody to come from Stanstead Abbotts or miles for the 'orse with a 'orse and cart or something like that but we just went up to the farm and got a 'orse and put a chain round its neck and round the neck of the other 'orse and left it on the side so the traffic could get through. But a copper said afterwards that you couldn't do it 'ere. Its illegal, you see. But couldn't old Ted shoot fish. There used to be a lotta trout in the water meadows at Digswell, loads a trout, that big. He used to say, on a Sunday mornin', “Come on Curly. Let's go and get a bit o' dinner.” I knew what was comin' and we used to get down there.
RS: Did he shoot them in the head?
LP: No, he'd shoot a foot away from 'em. You don't shoot fish in the 'ead. You can't. How can yer? As soon as that hits the water It goes like that.
RS: It hits the water and goes sideways,
LP: Yeah. And Ted knew just where to put it. And the bang of that bullet as it hit the water would just stun 'em, kill 'em.
RS: It didn't actually hit the fish?
LP: No. I had a long stick with a hook on the end to pull 'em out. That was good fun then though,
RS: What other wicked tricks did you get up to?
LP: We used to do shootin' at Brocket Farm when Jack 'Olding 'ad one. An old Ted was a noted shot. He was a good pheasant shot. He 'ad a good dog and 'e used to say to me, "Curly, shootin' today?"
And I used to say, "Where at?"
And he'd say, "Brocket'.
I'd say, "Alright."
And he'd say, "Take two guns and you can load one.” And he said, “I'll get round Jack to let me be back gun.”
“Oh!” I said, “You artful bugger". He could get round Jack because they were old boozing pals.
He just used to walk behind the beaters, old Ted, right back, or stand right back, and as these birds used to come, he'd say, "Here, take this gun and stand right up over there.”
RS: So you used to have an illegal gun?
LP: Yeah! “How'd you get on Ted?”
And he'd say, "Oh, I got forty odd. I know there was a lot come back. I kept my mate 'ere busy loading tor me."
I said, "You crafty old sod. You was loading your own and I was loading mine ",
There's no fun in shooting now like there used to be.
RS: How many beaters did they have at Jack 'Oldings?
LP: Ten a day. It'd be the same at Brocket. You know, if you think of everything we've done, you'd be bloody locked up these days!
RS: I think you're right.
LP: We used to go fox shooting with 'em at Panshanger, and squirrel shooting.
RS: With whom?
LP: With the Keepers. There was seven Keepers at Panshanger.
RS: I know there's a lovely little cottage called Keeper's Cottage at Panshanger. It's still there.
LP: That's right. That's where Bob lives. I know 'im as well.
RS: What does he do now? Do residents shoot there or do they let it?
LP: No, they let it. At Panshanger, the cottage down by the river, that's where the keeper there lived. Old Ted Carter lived there with his missus and she used to go out at night after poachers as well.
RS: Did she?
LP: Oh yeah, single-handed. Not with Ted.
RS: Did she take a gun?
LP: No, just the old dog. Yeah, but Ted never used to take 'is dog shootin'. He used to have to wait till they come back and go duck shootin' 'cos his was the only dog that'd go in the water. Every litter o' pups she 'ad there was one yellow one, the last pup born.
RS: She was a Labrador.
LP: Yeah, and 'e used to get a 'ammer and hit it straight on the 'ead. And we said to him one night, old Bill Hay and me, "What do you do that tor Ted?”
And he said, "Well if anybody comes to look they'll say they're bloody mongrels."
RS: Oh!
LP: And there wasn't a yellow Labrador about in them days, I'm going back sixty or seventy years now.
RS: They were all black.
LP: All black. So it just shows you. It must 'ave come from the black. That's why there's yellow and black now. If you tell people that they don't believe yer. There wasn't a yellow lab about. They think somebody's been trying to breed them with white labs. There's somebody been trying to breed white labs for donkey's years. They'll never do that.
RS: What about chocolate ones? Where do they come from?
LP: Just a throw-back, I think.
RS: From the water spaniel.
LP: Could be. We used to 'ave a bloke up Perry Wood (keeper) and 'e 'ad all water spaniels, no other sorta dog at all.
RS: Lovely little dogs.
LP: Well, 'e used to 'ave nine picking up. He'd call them dogs by their name. Picking 'em out to pick a bird up. 'E knew all their names. The others wouldn't move.
RS: How wonderful. They'd be all sitting there and he'd call one up. And they'd pick up a bird up and bring it back.
LP: He was a good trainer o' dogs that bloke. Pete ???? 'is name was.
RS: Was he at Panshanger?
LP: Yeah! Panshanger had 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 er 8, 8 keepers them days. Now they've got one man and a boy.
RS: Well there's nothing going on there is there?
LP: Yeah, shooting but not in the park. No. Lord and Lady Desborough they used to be two trumps they did. Very nice people. They'd just stand at the door and say, "'Enjoy yourselves. You've got plenty of drink." You could drink anything you liked there. They'd say, "You've got: two butlers and all them servants to wait on you.”
RS: How many people were at the ball? There were 45 people who worked in the house.
LP: About 200. Well they did used to invite one each unless you was courting. They'd probably invite three or four.
RS: What, dressed up? In suits?
LP: No, just in dance dresses and that. The butlers were dressed up in their suits and we used to be in our suits.
LP: How many suits did you have?
LP: Two. I've got eight now.
RS: Have you? So you had one for Sunday best?
LP: Yeah, and one for knocking about. See Leon! I have all his now. Yeah, they fit me a treat. I ain't bought a suit for donkey’s years.
RS: Tell us a little bit about Leon. He is your son.
LP: He's like me. 'E says something and 'e means it.
RS: He went into the paper trade, didn't he?
LP: Yeah. Well first of all when he left school he went to work for Creasey's. Well, no, he went to work for Cecil Cooper first and then 'e couldn't get on with Cecil 'cos 'e was earning more than Cecil, 'cos 'e was on commission, see.
RS: Is that the Aga people, Cooper?
LP: Yeah. Then 'e went to work for Creasey's, Reg Creasey. And he was a nasty bugger. And 'e sat arguing with old Creasey one day and 'e said, "There's only one difference between you and me."
And Creasey said, "What's that?
And 'e said, "You're sitting in the bloody chair I'll be sittin' in before long".
Leon got that seat.
RS: Was he publishing or what?
LP: No, 'e didn't do any publishing. It was all paper. Buying the big rolls o' paper, cutting 'em down, selling 'em to the superstores.
RS: Till rolls.
LP: Yeah, and look at 'im now - Bank of England and everybody.
RS: Tell us about him now.
LP: He's just got promoted now.
RS: He's sold his company?
LP: Yeah.
RS: For a lot or money?
LP: Yeah!
RS: Where is he working now?
LP: Opposite Buckingham Palace. That's where 'is office is. He travels the world. He's been to Australia and I couldn't tell you where 'e was last week. He was away all last week. He goes to Germany on Saturday, I know. Then 'e goes somewhere else and he's away the next two weekends and he says, "I'll give you a ring when I come back Dad."
And I said, "Alright then, you can come up.”
I always get on all right with Leon. The girls get a bit jealous of him at times but…
RS: Well it is pretty amazing what 'e's done,
LP: Yeah! Mind you 'e does the 'ousekeeping alright. Your father said to me one day, "I can't think who Leon takes after.” And I said, "I can tell you, me." I said, "He's just as bloody tight in dealing as what I am."
RS: That's right. Good on you.
LP: I'm the same when I'm dealing with a stranger. But you know friends and such like you act different with them sorta people. But he's kept 'imself straight. I mean 'is first wife, she still comes up here.
RS: Does she?
LP: Oh yeah! They all come up 'ere. His daughter was up 'ere last week or a fortnight ago, she was. On yeah. She comes and visits me. Yeah! They get on together, Leon and his first wife. They still speak.
RS: What part or your life do you remember as the most exciting?
LP: Oh, I got more excitement in my later time than I did before. I always got worried before with children, you know before they were married. I wasn't getting a lotta money and that's one thing that I never, ever, never in my life let the children go shorta money. I'd stop in. I wouldn't go to a pub in case they were short of money.
And my second brother 'e was the same but 'e never drank. He was like Leon. He went in the army at seventeen and 'e was a captain of the time 'e was twenty-three and my old father on his deathbed said, "There's only one thing I wish that's what 'e said to me and that was in Gateshead Hospital and I said, "What's that dad?"
(inaudible)
He died the night before Tom got there. Yeah. I've got a photo.
I went in the White Horse pub one night with Tom, at Burnham Green when I lived up there and George Salter, 'e was a big naval man, called me aside and said, "Who's that with you. Who are you talking to?"
And I said, "What do you want to know for?"
And he came back and said, "I think you do know, you know." And 'e said, "He's the smartest man I've ever seen."
And I said, "I'll tell you, George, to put you outta your misery. He's my brother."
And 'e said, "Never in your life."
I said, "Yes, and 'e was the same in civvy street as in the army.” He polished all his buttons and shoes and his trousers. You could 'ave shaved on 'em ???? All 'is uniform up 'ere all creased. 'E was immaculate, and yet they reckon 'e was a bugger. 'E was persistent.
RS: The best.
LP: He got killed in…I'll tell you in a minute. One of our own planes killed 'im. Killed a lot of 'em. In Cuba, I think. Was it Cuba?
RS: When was this?
LP: The war 'ad been finished about 6 months. Every time 'e came and saw mum there was always a £5 note up on the shelf. Mum's shelf was high like that picture and 'e always put a £5 note up there.
RS: On the picture rail.
LP: Yeah
RS: How did she find it. When she was dusting?
LP: Yeah! He left 3 houses, what 'e bought. He used to work for the Daily Mail.
RS: As a correspondent?
LP: No, in the print. They used to 'ave Waterlows at Watford and 'e lived at Watford, you see. And 'e got a job there.
(inaudible)
RS: I Should think you do Len.
LP: He 'ad a very good friend in the army, Jim Watt, who when 'e came out o' the army went in the Metropolitan Mounted Police. Tom didn't want to go.
RS: Did ???? go back in the army.
LP: No.
RS: Did you have any other brothers?
LP: Just one more, Cyril, the eldest one. I 'ad one die. I 'ad two sisters, one sister's still alive. The eldest one died,
RS: So what do you know about Hertford, Len?
LP: Ooh, that used to be a rough hole at one time.
RS: What do you mean a rough hole?
LP: You'd get a smack here and a pint o' beer for 4d. there and no trouble.
RS: I think there were a lot of pubs, weren't there?
LP: Oh gawd yeah! Some rough houses as well there. We went into The Diamond one night and were talking to a girl in there. She had a relation at Bramfield. And some black bloke come up and said something to my mate and I said, " Get outside and I'll be out there” and I took seven of 'em.
RS: Seven?
LP: Yeah, bloody Yanks. Yeah, and did we hammer 'em. I was a strong bloke in them days.
I stood outside o' the van.
RS: Why were you fighting with the Yanks?
LP: 'Cos they was interfering with us.
RS: Took your girls did they?
LP: They just come and interfered with us 'cos we were talking to this girl. Playing hell 'cos we were talking to this girl and she lived close to us Neither of us wanted 'er.
RS: You knocked seven of them out. You and how many?
LP: Only one. Used to be a rough handful in them days, I did.
RS: Where did the Yanks come from?
LP: Ooh. They used to come from all round.
RS: From the Air Force?
LP: Yeah. They used to come looking for us, bloody Yanks.
RS: Did you have anything to do with the German prisoners of war?
LP: Yeah, I did.
RS: Where were they?
LP: Over at Hunsdon. Nice chaps…but bloody Ities. I'd 'ave liked to 'ave hung them. What if you hadn't got 'em home within two minutes of when they should be. They'd come over and play hell with yer. We used to take 'em to work and bring 'em back yer see.
RS: What, you were driving, a lorry?
LP: Yeah.
RS: Did you have to take them down the Lea Valley?
LP: Yeah! We used to 'ave to go everywhere with 'em. Stop with 'em all day and supervise. I took some Ities up to Hunsdon, just outside of Hunsdon and left 'em with a bloke on the job. And I 'ad to go back and get some Germans from Lernsford and take up there. Coo, it was the best fight I ever had that was.
RS: You had a fight?
LP: What, the Germans got 'old o' them and threw 'em in the bloody pond. Yes. I couldn't stop 'em. They 'ad to 'ave the army there to stop 'em. They'd 'ave drowned the buggers.
RS: What were they supposed to be doing? What work were they doing?
LP: Well buildings and that sort of thing. Oh, the old Germans were as right as rain.
RS: They couldn't stand the Ities. I don't know why, I'm sure. As soon as they got there and saw them Ities they went mad. They just dropped their things and started to throw 'em in the bloody river. I thought I'd got to get outta the way mate, quick and got on me lorry.
RS: So who was in charge of them?
LP: Well I was supposed to be, but the Itie bloke who was head of 'em got the army out and they settled the thing and they stopped there for about half a day.
RS: How many Italians were there? Were there twelve?
LP: Twenty or thirty of 'em.
RS: And they all came in one big lorry?
LP: Yeah.
RS: Which you had driven from where?
LP: From Royston
RS: From Royston to Hunsdon to a building site?
RS: Yeah!
RS: Was it to do with the American Air Force?
LP: No, they were just building a place where they were goin' to 'ave another prisoner of war camp.
RS: Ah, yes.
LP: Doing all the places up and these Germans come from Lemsford. I've never seen people so mad.
RS: And did you have twenty or thirty Germans?
LP: No, there weren't as many Germans as there was Ities. Cor, they was bloody mad. I said to 'em when we was going home at night, “You got me in a bloody row.”
They said, "No' you wasn't in no row. You couldn't help it.”
And I said, "That's more than the bloody Ities would 'ave said. They would 'ave said I was encouraging yer."
But Germans, they'd do anything for yer. Make anything for yer.
It was Leon's fourth birthday and the bloke that was cooking there said, "Don't buy 'im a cake. I'll make 'im one." And 'e made 'im a bloody great cake like that.
RS: Two feet long.
LP: Yeah! Yeah, like that, all fruit and 'e made 'im a wooden engine where 'e could sit on it and pedal it. There y'are.
RS: And he was a German?
LP: Yeah, but the bloody Ities. They wouldn't give yer the drippings from their nose. They wouldn't mate, honest. I was going to hit one round the 'ead with a bit o' wood one night, when I was goin' back to Royston. He come barging in and saying, "You're bloody late gettin' us home." 'E said, "I've gotta be out in ten minutes." And I said, “I couldn't care bloody less what you say. I brought you home and that's all I'm supposed to do.” And I said, "Don't come throwing your weight about with me. I'll wrap this bloody bit o' wood round your 'ead.
RS: Where was he supposed to be going out to?
LP: To take some girl out, yer see. They took bloody schoolgirls out, the Ities.
RS: I thought he was a prisoner.
LP: He was but they used to go out at night and take girls out.
RS: Did they?
LP: Yeah.
RS: Were there a lot or pregnant girls around?
LP: I don't know. I didn't worry about that in them days. But the Old Germans they'd do anything for yer, you know, do anything or make anything. If you'd got a puncture in yer lorry they'd jump out and they'd all help yer. Not the bloody Ities. They'd sit there and let yer jack all that up.
RS: Did you have any escapes?
LP: No, well they daren't.
RS: Did you have a gun?
LP: No, I didn't 'ave a gun but the bloody army would soon 'ave been round over 'ere wouldn't they?
RS: Did you have a co-driver with you?
LP: Oh. Yeah. I 'ad someone with me, another bloke, yeah.
RS: And where did you go to school, Len?
LP: I went to school at Bramfield and I was in S7 tor 2 years. I left at 14. My sister used to be a school teacher there. And every night …. indoors. Mum was very strict. Oh yeah. You daren't answer my mum back. She'd 'ave wrapped the broom round yer bloody ear. She was North Country... He was about thirty when 'e left home and she'd say, Shut up. You're not too big to 'ave your ear-hole smacked. Ooh, she was very quick-tempered, she was. I think I was more 'er favourite.
RS: Where did you live, in Bramfield?
LP: Yeah. Kept the Post Office.
RS: Kept the Post Office?
LP: Yeah. Only two doors away from ….
RS: The Church. No, next to the church.
LP: No, not that one, that was the school.
RS: Where was the Post Office?
LP: The Post Office was the second one along from that.
RS: And was it only a Post Office or was it a village shop?
LP: Oh, village Shop as well. Tea. We used to have two plates on either side of the gate.
"Lyons Tea Sold here". They used to be there for donkeys years, yer know.
RS: Were they both for Lyons Tea?
LP: Yeah, one each side o' the gate,
RS: And did the Post Office sell stamps?
LP: Yeah, oh yeah.
RS: And was that all? Was there social benefit then?
LP: We used to have a few things up on the shelf, you know, but not like they 'ave today. I mean, if you go down the Post Office today, you can get anything now.
RS: Did they sell newspapers?
LP: Yeah.
RS: Did you do a paper round?
LP: No, no fear, wouldn't 'ave anything to do with papers.
RS: Why not?
LP: Well, a paper round wouldn't 'ave been any good in Bramfield. It wasn't big enough, was it?
RS: Wasn't it?
LP: No. My grandfather used to be a policeman in Bramfield, my father's father. And he died, well fairly young.
RS: And did you know Mr Manning? Mr Manning the teacher?
LP: No, Miss Rolfe was the teacher when I was there. Old Miss Rolfe, she was a good teacher.
RS: And you left school at fourteen. Did everybody leave school at fourteen?
LP: Yeah.
RS: And did you then get into lots or mischief?
LP: No, no. We used to go scrumping and that down Hale's orchard but no worse than that, anyway. We daren't in them days.
RS: Who were the people who lived in the village?
LP: Oh gawd.
RS: Do you remember any of them?
LP: I had an uncle, two uncles lived there and l ‘ad some cousins lived there.
RS: Were they all called Pride?
LP: No, none of 'em was called Pride. I reckon my father was the only Pride there was. I've got one comin' up 'ere tomorrow, a twin. She's got a sister at Burnham Green. So Maureen said, anyway. My sister's gonna bring her up. But she ain't rung me and told me. She told Maureen.
RS: What time is your daughter going to pick you up, then?
LP: She don't pick me up. I just walk over.
RS: Well we'd better stop then.
LP: Yeah, any time you want to know more.
RS: Did you enjoy that?
LP: Yeah, don't make no difference to me.
RS: You enjoyed reminiscing.
LP: Yeah, I very often reminisce by meself.
RS: I bet you do.
LP: Yeah. You do when you're on your own. Something'll crop up and I think, "I used to do that." You'd be surprised. I never really get lonely 'cos you're always thinking about something or somebody. Now do you know, you won't believe this, I was thinking about Christmas. I went to church three times a day. My mother made you go to church twice and Sunday school once or twice if she could get you there.
RS: On Sunday?
LP: Yeah. I was in Bramfield choir for about ten year. I had good times when I was younger. We was brought up to be Christians, not like these bloody hooligans today. I hear bits o' kids about 'ere swearing and blinding at people. Well I couldn't 'ave done that. My mother would 'ave chucked my head under water. I daren't swear in front of my mother. Leon, I never heard 'im swear once in front of 'is mother, not till she died. I never heard 'im swear in front or 'is mother. I dunno, it's a rum old world these days. My old grandmother, she used to have goldfinches hanging ail around the room.
RS: Goldfinches? Who caught them?
LP: She used to cage 'em. Top o' the pear tree every year there used to be goldfinches there and she used to 'ave 'em there in that cage as soon as they got young 'uns. Coo, it used to be like a songsters' paradise up there.
RS: How many did she have?
LP: About twenty or twenty-four.
RS: One in a cage?
LP: One in a cage with a cock bird breeding there and then she'd 'ave some in the next room.
RS: And she had them all in the house?
LP: Yeah. And she had pigs at the top of the garden. Two pigs ready for killing, yeah. And an old bloke used to come in and kill 'em.
RS: And salt them down?
LP: Yeah.
RS: Do you remember the salting down? Because they didn't have deep freezes, did they?
LP: No.
RS: How did they keep them?
LP: They used to hang 'em in the shed, she did.
RS: How did they keep the flies away from them?
LP: (inaudible)
RS: What else did they salt? Did they salt beans?
LP: No. But she always had pigs and goldfinches and then she'd 'ave some chickens an' ail, to get eggs from the hens.
RS: Eggs and bacon.
LP: Yeah.
RS: How many meals a day did you have then?
LP: Oh, three or four.
RS: Three or four meals, with meat at two?
LP: Oh, yeah. If you wanted meat, there was meat there. I never wanted for anything when I was younger.
RS: Well it's been lovely to talk to you Len.
LP: You know, if you could think back how your life went, it would make a hell of a read for a book.
RS: Would it?
LP: Yeah. I mean I don't suppose there's many people alive today who could tell me what a Servants’ Ball was like. None of my lot know what a Servants' Ball was like 'cos they've never heard of one. We used to have Servants' Balls at Tewin Water, Servants' Balls at Panshanger, Servants' Balls at Brocket, Servants' Balls at Woodhall Park, and they all used to be different.
RS: Come on then, tell us about them.
LP: Well at Woodhall Park you wouldn't get the old colonel .... with the old cow he 'ad. Ooh, she was a bugger, terrible to work for she was. It was no good 'im saying we'll 'ave that and that and something else. She would just 'ave her own way. She did the day of the funeral of the colonel. We was going out o' the North Lodge with the coffin on a four wheeled wagon in the back, and all the blokes walking behind, yer see.
RS: What date was that?
LP: Ooh, I don't know. He's buried in Bramfield Churchyard, I know that just inside the gates on the left, well about ten yards up. I mean, she went to put a young horse to pull that wagon and it shied and his coffin was near out the back o' that and if these blokes hadn't 'ave rushed hard. 'Cos they walked all the way to Bramfield behind. If they hadn't rushed and got hold o' that coffin it would have been on the road, just because of 'er being bloody pig-headed. Old 'orses would have gone out there on their own. But she was like that. I mean they used to sell cows down there to Vigus's. Vigus used to buy all their cows 'cos Vigus used to do the selling.
RS: Abel Smith's cow?
LP: Well, 'e was taking all the best bloody cows wasn't 'e and that's where your Revels' herd comes from. We 'ad the first Revels at Woodhall Farm. If 'e said I want to sell some cows 'e would say I'd get rid o' that one and that one and she hadn't got the sense to see it. Ooh she was a miserable cow. She was cantankerous.
RS: Was she running git then?
LP: Well she was the governor. Like the one that's there now. She's the governor, he ain't. He 'as to do as she tells 'im. If Paul was here he'd tell you that. No good 'im saying anything. She won't take no notice of 'im. Well that's no way to go on.
RS: Who was at Tewin Water?
LP: Sir Otto Beit. He was buried in Tewin Churchyard and his ashes are in a good casket.
RS: I wonder if they're still there, Len.
LP: Well, I don't know but he was. He used to have goldmines in Africa.
RS: That's the big white house isn't it?
LP: Yeah, but it's gone now. Yer see all these old estates have gone and look at the labour. You take Woodhall, what they used to 'ave. They used to 'ave about a dozen blokes working at Perry Wood and there'd be about twenty or thirty in the park. They did all their own woodcutting, carpentering, window making and everything there. Panshanger, that was the same. They done all their own repairs. And then they let old Bob Wallace pull the place down. That was a wicked shame that was.
RS: Who was Bob Wallace?
LP: Well ‘im that owned ???? Mimms Pits. The old farm that was. John Wallace, he's a farmer, lives at Watton, used to live down the Green 'ere. Yeah, they pulled all that house down. I bet 'e made thousands out o' that house because all the hearths and fireplaces were au marble. I used to 'ave a bit to keep my back gate open once but I don't know who 'ad it, I'm sure.
RS: What a bit of marble?
LP: Yeah, I think it's a blooming shame when anything 'appens like that. I took up the violin when I first left school.
RS: Taught by whom?
LP: ???? ???? She was a professional at Bramfield Electric.
RS: Did you like playing the violin?
LP: Not bad. You get older and give it up. My father used to play the violin.
RS: Did he play classical or the wonderful Irish music?
LP: Dad could play anything. Things have all altered beyond recognition really. You know somebody your age you can't understand what it was like during those years and what It was like when we went to school and that. You never heard of bullying in them days 'cos you daren't. I mean if I'd 'ave bullied anybody at school or anybody 'ad bullied me, I'd just go home and tell mam and she'd go out and clip their ear.
RS: It was the mothers who were doing the discipline then.
LP: Yeah and if anybody told my sister about anything she'd go and tell her. So would Miss Rolfe if she got to know.
RS: Where did Miss Rolfe live?
LP: She lived in the school house where the shop is now. Where the Post Office is. She lived in that house there.
RS: They were fun days.
LP: Just over the road from there, over the wall, there's a pond and they call that Beckett's Pond. They reckon Thomas a Becket made that pond.
RS: Is that in somebody's garden?
LP: Yeah, it's in the Rectory Garden. They always called it Beckett's Pond. Things have altered altogether now. I don't think I'd like to be a child now. I don't think I'd enjoy myself like we did. We 'ad some fun but, mind you, we were disciplined. I remember old Compton, the policeman, the old bugger.
RS: At Tewin?
LP: Yeah. He used to have a cape and that used to fold up and go through his armlet.
RS: On his shoulder?
LP: Yeah, and straight down the front of 'im and down the back. And 'e used to come up the road at night on his old bike, no lights and stop again' the churchyard, put 'is' bike again' the churchyard gate and if 'e thought you'd been up to anything out come that cape and Christ didn't that sting.
RS: He'd whack you with his cape?
LP: Yeah and you daren't go 'ome and tell your mother or she'd 'ave whacked you with a bloody stick or something.
RS: You went courting in the churchyard?
LP: No, we weren't courting. That was just when we were school kids. But now, yer know they're not allowed to do anything with kids are they?
RS: No.
LP: If they put 'em inside they take 'em away abroad on holiday, to try and cure 'em.
RS: Well, perhaps one or two of them.
LP: Well I think that's all wrong. Prisons are not what they used to be either.
RS: Have you ever been in prison?
LP: No. But they let 'em go out shopping and that don't they? They're not the same.
RS: Not from what I gather.
LP: There you are. It's not for me to moan. About ten year ago we was on holiday up in Scotland, right up in Inverness. We sat in a pub, well a hotel, and there was an old boy in there and he must have been over ninety and we all got talking, the older ones. And he said, "I've only broke the law once in my life, boy, and I swore I'd never break it again. And I was twenty-three then.” And I said, "Why wouldn't you break it now?"
"They cured me” he said, "They gave me six strokes of the birch and I've never done a thing out of place since and I won't."
That'll tell you what it was like. If you was to tell youngsters about that they wouldn't believe you. That's what the old boy said.
RS: What had he done?
LP: I don't know what he'd done. He just said he'd broke the law once. He was a keeper in them days when we was talking about. That's how I got talking to 'im. There were several of us there. And 'e said, “I 'ad six strokes of the birch and I don't ever want to go through that again.” Nor wouldn't no one.
RS: So that's the answer for the young nowadays.
LP: Yeah.