Transcript Detail
| Transcript Title | Rist, John (O1998.11) |
| Interviewee | John Rist (JR) |
| Interviewer | Jean Riddell (Purkis) (JR) |
| Date | 15/04/1998 |
| Transcriber by | Peter Ruffles |
Transcript
Hertford Oral History Group
Recording no: O 1998.11
Interviewees: John Rist (JR)
Date: 15th May 1998
Venue: Tudor Way, Hertford
Interviewer: Jean Riddell (Purkis) (JRP)
Transcriber: Peter Ruffles
Typed by: Jean Riddell (Purkis)
************** unclear recording
[discussion] untranscribed material
italics editor’s notes
JRP: This is Jean Riddell (Purkis) speaking. This afternoon I'm at the home of John Rist, Tudor Way, Hertford and it's Friday afternoon 15th May, 1998, and I hope this afternoon, amongst lots of other things, John will be able to tell us about his early life in Folly Island. Folly Island, then.....were you born in Folly Island?
JR: I was born in Folly Island, in Thornton Street, and in those days it had a nickname, it was called 'Frogs Island'.
JRP: “Frogs Island”, yes.
JRP: But all my junior part of my life, there, down the Folly - I went to school first of all at the age of 5 to Cowbridge School and stayed there til you were 11 - and then from there you went on either to Cowper School, Grammar School or Longmores. All depends which type of education you had. I was fortunate to go to Longmore School at first and then I was about 14 - coming up for 14.....you left school at 14/15 in those days - a bomb dropped on Longmore School. From there we were moved up to the Cowper School. The early part of my life: I'm a twin, I've a twin brother called Robert. I came from a family of eight. My father was an army man and the best part of our life was at junior school, weekends, where we did everything that we were told. Where do you want to go from there?
JRP: Well. First of all, you say, you're a twin?
JR: Yes.
JRP: Is your twin brother still alive?
JR: Yes, he's still alive, Robert.
JRP: Is he the one at Folly Island?
JR: No, he's not the one at Folly Island. We were the youngest. Unfortunately our mother died when we were about three years of age. Because we were late children and it was quite common in those days for a mother of about 40 plus.....they died at the birth, didn't they.
JRP: Yes, but yours survived the birth.
JR: No. Yes, for two or three years.
JRP: So, in that case then, who brought up.....
JR: My sister. My sister Millicent. She was a spinster type lady, she was a spinster til she was 30/35, rather strict. It was bed at seven, up at eight. "Where've you been?" All that type of business. And we were never allowed to use the front door. We always had to go round the back, although it was never locked in those days. No-one locked their front door in those days. Always open, because you had neighbours who were concerned and cared for one another. Previous to that........I'll get back to when we was at school, if you wish. Well, my brother and I, one day, we thought "We're not going to school". We played truant. So we thought, "Right, we'll go up to Bengeo. Long a there." Go, what we call scrumping along the Warren down past through the Folly.....and who did we bump into but the truant master!
JRP: Oh!
JR: Right that day! He says "I want to see you". I says to him "What for, sir? We don't feel well." He says, "Oh, yes you do. I've been down to your house." He hadn't, but he said that. Of course, we flew back down there, didn't we? And father was waiting there. "What are you doing home early?" Being an army man he was slightly strict, but he never took the belt to us, or anything like that, not at all. You got a good telling off and being an old army man he told you off as though you felt 'that big'.
Well, just after that, he took us. Monday morning school. "Yes, dad, we'll be going to school all right." He said, "I know you are. I'm taking you up there." So we got up there and....(chuckles)....Mr. Stalley was the master up there in those days, and Mr. Green, and Mr. Booker and Mr. Ried and Mr. Marks. And, er, father had a word with the Headmaster and um; it was at an assembly in those days, and Mondays and Fridays was punishment day. So Monday we stood there. Three on that hand; three on that hand. It hurt! It hurts, you don't say it didn't. But you daredn't cry.
Anyway, let's get back to the earlier part. Life out of school. We used to love going scrumping; fishing along of the rivers; and also talking about the rivers - now-a-days they don't do it, now-a-days - but they used, Saturday lunch times, they used to flood the river. Because down Folly Island, bottom of Thornton Street there was a waterfall with lifting gates. And old Charlie Day, the old man that lived in the house next door to it, he used to chase you away, because the man came all the way from the lock and he used to open the flood gates. And we was only about 6 or 7 in those days and we used to watch it flood right the way through, right the way through from Folly Island right the way through to Hertford Lock. And as soon as the water started to rise in there, Ware lock opened, and it went on. In rotation.
Now we get back.....Fridays was a good day because you got your comic money. You went to old Farnhams on Old Cross and you bought your comic. And there was a woman in there...she had gingery hair....old Mrs. Fuzzy Wuzzy we used to call her.* Everybody was terrified of her. She used to live down Port Vale. I don't know her name. And in those days old Farnhams shop was lit by gas, and she used to sit behind there like this...."And what comic do you want?" "We've come for....." "You'll have what we've got left". Because it was only a halfpenny or a penny in those days.
And well.....we used to get the comics and used to go round, what was called 'swapping' in those days. You used to swap comics with all your mates at school and down The Folly. Especially Folly Island kids, there were very closely knit. After you'd done that on a Friday your next job was, you went home and you picked up an accumulator. An accumulator for the wireless. It was a big one. And you went up Hartham Lane, past McMullens horses there....big dray horses....they were kicking and stumping about.....we used to fly round the back of them to Dittons in St. Andrews Street.
You got that and you went back home, got your tea. The favourite tea in those days was pig trotters; or pease pudding and faggots. Well, pease pudding and faggots, you went up to Bob Gealls cafe in Bull Plain. You took a bowl, a big bowl and about sixpence or ninepence and you got that bowl three parts full of pease pudding and about four, five or six faggots in it and that was your supper for the night.
*Transcribers Note:Sounds like Miss Saunders who later, at least, worked at Spriggs, Cowbridge.
JRP: So, he provided a take-away service, did he?
JR: Yes, he did. And you know who his son is?
JRP: Yes, I've met him. I've actually recorded his son.
JR: Yes, I remember it so well.
JRP: Yes, yes. He told us about the cafe.
JR: Yes. That was great. Er....we'll get back to Saturday mornings, now. Saturday mornings you had to do as you were told. You was up at eight, you was round McMullens yard with a huge barrow. Not a wheelbarrow like it is today. It was a big box with huge shaft handles on it and cast iron wheels....bonk bonk bonk going along the road....And you got the coal. Not only got the coal for your self, you got it for old Mrs. Jones, Old Mrs. Crawley, Granny Brown and all those type of people. You did it because you was brought up to do it in that way. And they when you' done that you went back home and Millicent used to say, "Right, there's the book!" This is Saturday mornings, you went to Green Stores or Pearks's in those days. Because what you did, the book went in on a Friday night. It was all ready for you on a Saturday morning.
But the best part of it was, you got a ha'penny (halfpenny). You got a ha'penny from your Mrs. So and So and Mrs. What's Name and all them. You got a ha'penny. You had to take it home, give it to your sis, your mother and she collected it up 'til you got thruppence. And then you went to the cinema, the old Regent Cinema in the afternoon. But if there was a promotion on in that cinema you took jam jars, may be two or three jam jars. One I do remember quite well is when Typhoo Tea first came out. You went to the Home and Colonial in those days - but you had to go back home and show your mother or your sister or your brother or whatever it was, how many jam jars you got.
JRP: Right.
JR: And if you only got two they always used to say "Well, it's three, you know". We didn't know, but they'd already got three at home ready for you. That's what it was like. Well, you did that. You went to the pictures, the old Regent pictures and it was always a cowboy picture. Only like....a children's programme. And everybody came out, bucking horses, and running along the street shouting "What do you want to be, a cowboy or an Indian?" Well, nobody wanted to be an Indian because they all got killed, you see. And that was Saturday afternoons.
Saturday evenings. You were allowed to go out a little bit late because the market was on in the town in those days. The whole of that market used to take up the old car park and Bull Plain in those days. It was a market - and it was lit up by these big huge paraffin flares that lit up the whole of the stalls with that. There was the sweet man, the old china man that used to sell the china - used to throw it up in the air, we were all saying "Is he going to drop it?" and all that business and then there was the banana man. The banana man we always used to go a bit late because we knew he'd throw them at you ! You see- "Oh, I don't want these." He knew the kids, he knew the children, he knew where they all came from, and he used to throw the bananas at them. Well, there was always two of you because one stood there, the other one whipped down the back of the lorry to pick up orange boxes or banana boxes, all in boxes in those days, wooden boxes, not this cardboard rubbish. Apple boxes were great because there were two sections and about 4 ft. long. Well, they were ideal for chicken coups. For chickens to lay the eggs in . And of course you went round or you took them home and you chopped them up and you sold them to someone as firewood. You may have only got a penny for a whole orange box or tuppence - it depends on how people are - and then with that you sneaked up to the fish and chip shop, Tovells it was in those days, outside in Railway Street. And you got a mug of tea....because we were only children it seemed enormous to us....you got a mug of tea, we got fish and chips and a piece of bread and butter and it didn't cost you thruppence. That's all it was in those days.Saturday night came and went.
Sunday mornings down the Folly, you had to....didn't have to say you went out and helped your father on the allotment. Right? I've been rather strictly brought up. We had to go to church. All Saints Church in the mornings. After dinner on a Sunday, It wasn't lunch in those days, it was always dinner, we used to wait and we'd hear the Salvation Army playing up the top street, up the top of Thornton Street in those days. And, er, we'd call 'Look out, here comes the Umpha Band'....we used to call it the Umpha Band, which we did, we was only children. After that had finished they come round the door you know, knock, knock, knock, knock and they took the collection. Well, a lot of children used to follow that back to the Citadel Hall which was on the old Car Park in those days, because you got a bun , you got a cream bun. That's why everybody followed them up there. But we didn't, we had to go to the Baptist Church, in the afternoons. Mornings it was All Saints, afternoons it was Sunday School and we daredn't play truant from the Sunday School because Mr. Keeble that ran it was also the Tally-man.
Now the Tally-man is the chap who your parents got your school uniforms from him. And he was more strict than what your headmaster was at school. And you daredn't go away because he'd be up there the next day....he used to just walk in the house in those days....they weren't locked and we used to leave the money on the side on the book.....and all that sort of thing and he used to say "Your boys weren't at Sunday School yesterday." "Oh yes we were Dad"...."Oh no you weren't. Miss Dyke (she's now down Beane River View) says you're not there." And we were more terrified of Keeble and old Miss Dyke than we were of the Sargeant Major or the police sargeant. We were, yes.
Er, down the Folly again after that, in the summer holidays, all the children....'cos there was three rivers there then in those days. One we called the little river, that's now all been filled in that was put there because that fed the swimming baths, straight along.
JRP: It's in a pipe now is it?
JR: No, it’s not there, it's all been filled in. You know where the pumping station now is, on Folly Island?
JRP: Yes, yes.
JR: Well, directly from there, across there, there was a little river, man made, right. And it went right the way down to the swimming pool because in those days the water went in one end and came out of the other end. See there's no no hot, heated water or chlorinated water. It used to go right....it's always cold. It just went in one end and it came out the other, which was a good thing in those days.
Well, we always had a rival gang! We was only kids; we was only children and we used to call them The Gashouse Lane boys. Now that is what they call Marshgate Drive nowadays. And we used to say "Right!" We used to meet them out of school. Right, we're going to come and raid you tonight, or tea-time, or afternoon or Saturday, whatever it was.
JRP: What did you call your gang then?
JR: The Folly Gang. And so we all came together. We used to pinch your mother's prop off the line, and the dustbin lid and you went charging along the railway in those days. Because we went straight through the Folly and then up the line to Mead Lane. And we used to stand there all like this...scared to death of course, we were. And the Gashouse Gang used to come along. No malice, nothing, it was just something that kids did in those days. It was great. And then after that....everybody was all right.....nobody hurt anybody...it was a big laugh....you were promoted from a prop to a catapult. You got the catapult from Turners in St. Andrew's Street in those days. Then you had catapult games. You never hid anybody, you couldn't aim properly, and it was great and it was good. Children down the Foly were well behaved. They were well behaved.
In those days Frampton Street, Old Hall Street and Folly Street, they was all owned by different firms or different people. Mainly I think, Thornton Street was mainly owned by the Andrews Family. the Oddfellows had some houses down there. Bush had some. But that's as far as I can remember. But the landlord, the man who used to come round to collect the rents; now if you lived in Thornton Street in what you call 'the big houses' even numbers they had two bedrooms and a boxroom, front room, passage and kitchen. All toilets were outside. If you lived in any of the other streets they were the smaller houses. They was two up, two down and outside toilet. There was no kitchen; the living room was the kitchen. Nobody had a bathroom. Not a bathroom as we know it today - because in the summer if there was nice evenings, people used to bath in the river. They did.
JRP: Just by the Barge?
JR: No, in the middle, bottom end of Thornton Street. In those days it was a beautiful river. Clean fish, full of fish. People were fishing.....and it was a common sight in a summer evening to see elderly people with a bar of soap washing themselves in the river.
JRP: Really?
JR: Yes, they did. Yes, yes. they weren't stripped off, of course. You know. The women wore like a petticoat thing and the men wore trousers - with their legs rolled right up. But they did, they used to wash in the river. I remember it quite often. And then, if you was a good boy in those days "Go and help your father over in the allotment. Right?" Well, for young kids it was boring. Because all you did was to go to the river and get the water. And to us a two gallon watering can was heavy in those days. I mean, it weighed 20lb, didn't it. About that. But to live down the Folly in the old days, shall we say, pre-war, you were a happy kid. You were a happy kid, you were, yes you were a happy kid.
JRP: What year were you born?
JR: 1927, 13th August.
JRP: When did you go to the Cowper School, then? I'm just wondering about you seeing Len, I know he was away diring the war.
JR: Well, he was at Longmore School first. He joined the Air Force, didn't he?
Transcribers Note: He started in 1933 at the Cowper School, transferred later to Longmore
JRP: Yes
Transcribers Note: He didn't, it was the Royal Artillary Anti-Aircaft
JR: He was at Longmore School and then he must...I don't know what year it was. Go from 1927, add on 11 years, add on 12.
JRP: 39
JR: 39, just before the war.
JRP: So you encountered him for a short time?
JR: Well, for a year. Maybe a bit longer, I'd say.
JRP: He joined up in Sept. 1940.
JR: Yes, well, I knew him a full year. Because I was in Charlie Marks' school, er Charlie Marks' class. Because they sorted you out. I mean they sorted you out to see which other class you went into, A, B or C.
JRP: Yes
JR: But Len'd, yes he was, he was about a full year, he must have been. And then the evacuees came down from London and the school was divided into two. You did an eight 'til one o'clock, no breaks. And then (that was one week) while the other school did the afternoons - then you swapped round. You did afternoons; they did the mornings. It was, I think it was a Jewish School that came down. But to be a kid in the Folly in those days, it was good. Yes it was good.
Yes, I can remember when McMullens used to take all the school children on a train trip - to, I think it was Walton on the Naze or somewhere like that, yes, they did when we were kids. And then the Baptist School used to take you on a Sunday trip. In those days it was never on a Sunday 'cos you had to be at Sunday School on a Sunday, yes it was great.
JRP: Was it on a weekday? The Baptists' treat on a weekday?
JR: I think it was. I'm not quite certain. Of course you're only a youngster then. Yes, I remember that quite well.
JRP: And you were allowed to be off school for that treat, weren't you?
JR: Yes, well I think it was during the holidays.
JRP: Oh was it!
JR: I think so. Oh, God, it's so odd, 60 - 70 years ago.
JRP: Yes, I'll have to look up. I've been through the log books of various schools and I'm sure it mentions at quite frequent intervals, every year, let's say, children excused from school to go on the Baptist Treat.
JR: That's right, but I can't remember what day it was. And if you added that day you got 3d or 6d to spend. Oh yes, you were well off - if you had 6d. And in those days which you was at school there was a lot of children's sickness. There was a lot of children's sickness in those days. You got free milk until you was about 7 or 8 and then you had to pay a ha'penny for the milk. And also you got free Horlicks tablets. Yes, you did. Yes, you did, yes. That's right.
And another thing while we were children, when you had the toothache you had to go to the Bull Plain Clinic. It was only children, but.....and you were terrified. Because what always happened they used to put you out with gas in those days. Old Nurse Pont and Old Nurse Page as we called them, they were there in those days. And Miss Pont, she married Bertie Whiting. She was what we called The Nit Nurse. Yes she did, she used to come round the school and all this business....yes it was.
JRP: But quite a few diseases were still prevalent, like Scarlet Fever and…
JR: Oh yes, yes. My brother had Scarlet Fever. He had to go to Gallows Hill.
JRP: Right, isolated then....
JR: Yes, that's right. It was the Isolation Hospital, and there was iron gates in there in those days. You see. And, um, the old wards. I worked there in the end, just before I retired. And always remember those gates. You weren't allowed in there, the parents were, or your uncles or aunts or.....children were not allowed inside those gates. They weren't. At the side there was a little hut thing, may be a brick built thing....and you waited there. they was very restrictive to visiting times. I don't think the parents were allowed no more than half an hour, they weren't.
JRP: How long was he there for?
JR: I don't know.
JRP: Oh......
JR: No, no, he may have been there about, well I don't know, because he just went, then he came back again, that's all. We were only little children.
And another thing from Folly Island was the Old Barge Inn. The Barge Inn as it is today. Now in those days Mr. Garner kept it - then along came who we called 'Ma Saunders', she came. And she kept it there, and being as she was a local person she knew everybody and all this business. On a Sunday night in the winter if you waited for your parents or whoever it was, (I only had to wait for me father on many occasions) If you went inside and got a glass of lemonade and a penny arrowroot. Now, a penny arrowroot in those days was about as big as a small tea plate.
JRP: Yes, yes.
JR: And you sat in there and you enjoyed it. And if you were a good boy you got a drop more lemonade and all that. They were good people in those days to children.
In the summer, there used to be what we called 'A Garden' outside the front of the Barge Inn. Now this is not every weekend, or nothing. This is only on rare occasions, because father was way most of the time. It had a hedge right the way round it.
JRP: Is that where the tables and chairs now are?
JR: Yes, nearer to the river. You know it's got two bay windows. Well the bay window nearer the river right, was where the hedge was round it. It's great, it was, penny arrowroot, glass of lemonade. It didn't cost no more than tuppence, but to us it was a feast, yes, it really was. It was great.
JRP: Who were your friends down there? Anyone that's still around here now?
JR: Yes, there's quite a few. There's Roy Deville, Ginger Reynolds, Eric Game, he's still down there......I'll go through the whole street first. Starting at next door to us was The Bradshaws (two sisters now Betty Camp who workd at Old Cross Newsagents and Chris Quarry at Museum), or the Metcalfs, right, 'cause they married one another. There was us, Rists, then there was Polly Jones, Cheshire....now Mr. Cheshire was the Mace Bearer and he used to dress up in Elizabethan costume and everything. Lovely man. Very jolly. T
hen there was the Mardells, there was the Games, there was the Longs, the Days (Old Charlie Day), the Fosters, then there was the shop at the end. That was the little grocery shop at the end, there, which we called Mother Pannells but it was Mrs. Fordham's really, the daughters. We called it Mother Pannell's. And also along there, great friends were the Watkins...um...Flossy Watkins, not supposed to call her Flossy but we knew what her name was, and her children....one of them,Teddy's still alive. Daphne still lives in Bengeo...her son's a doctor and the other one is....they've all got good jobs. And the Osbornes the Donoghues, oh, there were so many of them There were the Wheelers. Wheelers were a good family.
JRP: Yes, they're still there aren't they?
JR: Yes, but not our....the children, the grandchildren of those in those days. there was the Crawleys, there was the Carrols, the Williams. We used to call Mrs. Williams 'Old Gugga' because she was deaf. No. We was only children. Everybody had a nickname in those days. We'd....'here comes Gugga Williams'. She was a big lady. She was as kind as anything really to you, but we was only small...and there was the Morgans, oh, yes, there was an awful lot. Old Mother Drane, Cheshires, Reynoldses, Donaghues, Dyes, Whitings. there was a lot of good people. they wouldn't see one family in difficulties. Nobody got, er, like they do nowadays, you walk down the street 'Oh, he's been to prison. He's been summonsed.....' There wasn't that about.
If your mother (not to me personally) if your mother was having a baby, right, the next door neighbours would be in and you'd go and sleep in their house for the night. They'd have your dinner for you and they'd have your tea for you. A great favourite in those days, just before tea, you come home from school, you went round. 'What you got to eat?' And you were given what is now known as a doorstep. Right! Thick piece of bread, no sliced bread in those days, and you either had jam, brown sugar or drippin'. And drippin' with all the brown jelly all over it and it was great, it was really great. And then in the summer-time, right in the middle of the summer time they used to have what they call 'The Grass Money' from grass being cut by the Council all round the town. * And it was paid out to the poor, right? 'Cause more poor people in those days than well off people, and you went to Old Wrens and you got two loaves of bread, for nothing. All the time it was there for you. There was always somebody to help you down the Folly.
Well, in the summer time, all right, go on, go over to Hartham and enjoy yourself, over Hartham. And you took a lemonade bottle of cold tea. You took the tea with you. You didn't have this fancy drink like nowadays. It was cold tea. And a sandwich or whatever there was. And you went overthere and you enjoyed it. You did! the children were fishing in the river with nets, and tiddler fishing. It was good to be a kid in those days. It was. It was. Yes.
But then the highlight of the summer was the old Hartham Fete Day.
*Transcribers Note: Not quite so!
JRP: When was that held?
JR: That was Whit Monday. Always Whit Monday, because it always rained....well nearly always rained. I don't know why they didn't call it Wet Monday. Well, it cost you.....you had to go in with a ticket in those days, 3d thruppence a ticket, a proper printed ticket....it'd be a souvenir nowadays. And the gate by the Folly, Hartham Lane opposite Freddie Whitings, right, there was a box, a kiosk box and there was also one at the bottom of Port Hill and one over by Warren Bridge....you know, the bridge going across the river to the Warren.....there was four boxes, no, there was five, there was five, up by the East Station just as you come down, there....because there were bridges going across the litle river in those days. The little river that's not there any more....but there were bridges going across there. There were, yes.
And down came Auntie Maud and all that from up London or whereever she came from.....ours mainly came from Ponders End or Wareside. And they was all dressed up, you know, and it was a great day. It was. Of course a lot of the children from the Folly used to what we call 'bunk in' over the railway. they did. They stayed there all day long. they did. It was great. It was great to be a kid in those days in the Folly. there was no nastiness, 'oh, look, there's going to be a fight' and kids, you know, wrestling about....it was great; it was good, in those days.
And in the Folly, in those days, in the winter on the cross roads between thornton St., Folly St., and Old Hall St. there was a lamp-post, gas lamp - and we used to go up there - and old Mr. Dye*, he was the lamplighter. He lived along of the Riverside and we used to watch him come along with his poles and he used to light the lamp. And he used to come along in the mornings and he used to put the lamplight out....he did, yes. And another thing down there, especially in those days in Hartham Lane, there was a lot of houses belonging to McMullens. Well, in those days, they were putting in gas and electricity cables. Well, we can remember as plain as yesterday the night watchman, with his big brazier full of coal and red-hot. A little hut where he used to sit in. We used to go round there to take chestnuts round there and he used to roast them for you. He did. It was good. Yes, it was good. Much better than today.
And all the days.....all the streets except Folly Street had trees in them....avenues of trees. They were an old type of tree (Lime). I can't remember what type of trees they were. Well, every time they used to come along and trim them up, we used to collect all those bits for pea sticks.
*Transcribers Note: Died aged 100
JRP: Oh yeah.
JR: And in the November time, when all the leaves came down, we used to go and collect all those up. We had a bonfire. Guy Fawkes' night....and there was a pile as big as this room, of leaves, there was.
JRP: Where did you have the fire?
JR: Usually on the corner....you know where the...go down the bottom of to where the allotments are. It was down there or in the middle of the cross roads, it was. But everybody had bonfires in those days. Bangers, Catherine Wheels, Sparklers and......you don't see them nowadays because they're mainly organissd do's nowadays. Probably better.....but everybody enjoyed it. they did. Yes. Used to get them from Webbs, the paper shop on Bull Plain in those days....old Mother Webb as we called it. Penny, ha'penny, tuppence was most you paid for a firework in those days. Yes.
And getting back from that. Again in the summer we had what we used to to call Marleys or Marbles. We used to play marbles. Only about a penny....and thenyou got about adozen of marbles in a long tube like this. Glass. They was all glass in those days. None of this plastic stuff.....and, er.....there was always a red one and that was your mrker. You had ti fkick them along, flick flick flick, keep going down the road, down the road, down the road, of course if you were unfortunate to get to a drain it used to go down the drain. You did! that's right! It was good, yes! It was!
JRP: When you were growing up then, was there a lot of demolition going on in Bircherley Green?
JR: No. that was while I was a youngster, that was. I can remember, just remember Bircherley Green. The Green as we called it in those days, caught fire. There was always a fire over there. 'Cos they were only wooden old houses.
JRP: Accidental? They weren't....
JR: Accidental, no, no, accidental fires. No. there was always a fire but we were never allowed to go over there. 'Oh, you're not allowed to go down there' - but we used to stand from one side of the river.
JRP: Yes.
JR: And used to have shouting matches with the kids across the other side. It's good.
JRP: So, if you wanted to go shopping in the town, where did you go? Down Bull Plain?
JR: Bull Plain.
JRP: You didn't go into The Green at all?
JR: No, it wasn't there. It was only old houses and there was some pubs there as well, apparently. But the main shops for us in those days was Greens Stores.
JRP: Which was?
JR: On Bull Plain, which is now the camera shop.
JRP: Oh yeah.
JR: The Arcade was being built when I was a youngster, but it was there. You went up Maidenhead Street....Pearkses, Home & Colonial, Co-op - which was in those days where you went to get everything. You did. Yes. Woolworths. I remember Woolworths being built. There was a pub near there. I think it was called the Maidenhead or something like that, it was. Then there was sweet shops, butchers' shops, the old Blue Boot Stores, that's where you got your boots from. Boots was only half a crown a pair.
JRP: Right.
JR: They were, for children. Only half a crown a pair. And, um, the Green Dragon pub was there. Blue Boot Stores...Stallabrasses......
JRP: Yes. Where exactly was that?
JR: Which one?
JRP: Stallibrasses.
JR: Stallabrasses. Now....what's there now?
JRP: Well, was it next door to Drury's?
JR: No.
JRP: Farther.....no?
JR: There was Drury's....that lane, that Evron Place wasn't there, no it was Drury's, Blue Boot Stores, then came Stallabrasses.
JRP: Right.
Transcribers Note: Also Connells' the jeweller/pawnbroker, corner of Evron Place, later the Post Office
JR: And that was....er, er......I always remember about Stallabrasses, as you went in the door there's this huge brine tub, which was just full of salt water...that's all it was in there really. And, er, that's where they used to keep the meat, right? They had ref.....well, they had 'cold rooms' as they called them in those days, they didn't call them refrigerators or freezers - they hdn't got those sort of things.....but this, they used to go there and, say bla, bla, bla, bla, baa, whatever's written down for you, and they used to go to this brine tub with this hook and pull it out, like this! Well, and that was your.....well they call it salt beef nowadays don't they, that's right.
Transcribers Note: When Stallabrasses was demolished it was described as of C18 shop front.
JRP: The way they preserved it and the.....
JR: Yes, and at Christmas time, you've never seen such an array of turkeys, pheasants, rabbit (rabbits were very popular in those days) all outside the shop, all hanging up and they were there, there was no freezers to keep them in.
JRP: No, no
JR: But I can remember years ago when my father used to say 'I've got a hare' or, 'I've got a pheasant'...'Right, hang it up'. They hung it up in the scullery as it was in those days, right; or you hung it up outside and that was the toilet. Right. 'Course, you didn't keep it in there, but you hung it up by the toilet....row of hooks on the back. And they hust left it there. And he would never touch a phesant or a hare until it got 'magotts in its head'.
JRP: Oh...(even more sadly)...(as before)
JR: Because it then went green. That's....then they knew that it was perfect for eating. Yes. that's right. And then, from there, when I left school I went into the Air Force. Just afterwrds. And I was in the Air Force for quite a few years.....travelled the world....I was.....I had me 21st birthday in Cairo, me 19th birthday I was in North Africa. I was. ....just enjoyed it. Just enjoyed it. Just enjoyed it.
Then I went to the island.....Malta. I was there quite a few years.....it was nice; it was good. Then you came back....and. of course, as soon as you come back what did they say to you? 'On leave again?' they hadn't seen you for years. 'On leave again? When are you going back?'
JRP: Did you come back to the Folly?
JR: I did for a while but my parents had died. They' all died. And, as I say.....I'll leave that bit out.
JRP: You don't want to talk about the family then?
JR: Oh well, the family um.....
JRP: You said you had an older sister who.....
JR: Yes. Millicent.
JRP: Now, was she the eldest?
JR: No. The brother was....he only died a couple ....about three years ago. He was about 88 when he died. Must have been. Because when we were....there was Cecil, which they called Tiny because he was so big.....and his pastime job was, he was a boxer in a fairground.
JRP: Oh.....yes...
JR: He used to go travelling around with a chap called Webb.
JRP: Yes...
JR: And he's still alive. He lives down Railway Street, those two were partners; they only did it for about half a crown a fight; something like that.
JRP: But did he fight Webb?
JR: No! He was his partner.
JRP: Right.
JR: He was his partner
JRP: So they'd fight another two?
JR: That's right, yes.
JRP: I don't know anything about boxing!
JR: I can remember....the funny thing about him is he ended up as an inspector at the Small Arms at Enfield, but he'd only got one eye.
JRP: Oh. Yes
JR: And then after them came Millicent who we've already talked about. She was Mrs. Smith. Then came William....he's still alive, he lives at Ware, he's absolutely 'army mad'. He was in the army before the war, full time, part-time and he's about 86 or something now, he's got to be, he's got to be..........
Then there came Florence....she did mostly domestic work in those days. She also, unfortunately, she contracted pneumonia, and she only had.....she had to have a lung out.....and she went to Ware Park.
Side B
JR: From there, there came along George, brother George. Now his.....he worked.....he was a wine manager for the old Ware Brewery. In those days. It's gone, been gone a long time. Then there came who we call...Violet her name was.....we call her Dolly. Right? She was.....best one of the family, she was towards.....
JRP: Was she?
JR: Yes. She hd a good life. She didn't care a fig about anybody....she did not. She just did what she wanted to do. She just travelled the world....she did everything.
JRP: Right. Who did she marry then?
JR: She maried Ted Parker.
JRP: Aha....what would he do? Was his job abroad then? Or?
JR: No. No. He.....that was before she got married....she never got married 'til she was about 35. They all got married late in my family except the eldest brother. And then there was James as lives down the Folly now, and then myself and me twin brother, and he's now living at Surbiton in Surrey. He's another one that when the war came along he.....being as he'd had scarlet fever, he was rejected for the services...as they did. And, so he went and joined....he got in such a temper he went and joined the Palestine Police.
JRP: Oh!
JR: Yes! And I was in Malta at the time when the message came through from him in Palestine. What happened to him was he got blew up when they blew up the King David Hotel. Yes. He's....
JRP: Was he injured?
JR: Only in his arm there; and his neck. He's a bit like that, you know, even today. He can't hold himself up - not right up, no. Oh, yes! And er....that was the family.
JRP: So....can I just ask you....when Millicent.....when your mother died, how old was Millicent then?
JR: She must have been well into her twenties.
JRP: So she was an adult.
JR: Oh yes! She used.....I'll tell you what she was doing. She was in, you didn't have much choices in those days, she was at ....um...housemaid to Lady Rosamund Gibbs, out at Hunsdon. Out that way. that was the Gibbs family. Well, their father was Lord Hunsdon.
JRP: Ah, right.
JR: Well, and her brother was the last envoy in Cyprus. Yes.
JRP: Right.
JR: Now, what was his name? It was all in the papers and all that in those days.
JRP: Well, you might remember it, and we can put it in at the end.
JR: No. I can't remember it. What was his name?
JRP: She was working for them, and she had to leave there, did she?
JR: That's right, yes. That's right, yes. And she had to come and look after us. It's a thing they did, in those days.
JRP: Yes, of course.
JR: Yes, yes. Well, that's about it. At the moment....or do you want to ask.....
JRP: Well, I want to....I
JR: You ask me some que........
JRP: Yes, I'll, yes I'll ask you some questions because I think when I came the other day you mentioned a few things.... Um, you knew Joe Quince, didn't you?
JR: Joey Quince, yes! He lived in Bull Plain.
JRP: Yes.
JR: Right opposite the Museum. And his mother...he'd got a sister called Dolly. Dolly Quince, or Dolly Cox as it is when she got married. I'll tell you something about Dolly Cox, right.
JRP: Yep.
JR: She used to take on all the boys. She was as tough as nails, tougher than nails, right? She was. I've seen her, in the summer, now you know theFolly Bridge from the Constitutional Club?
JRP: Yes.
JR: She challenged all the boys, right....and she must have been 15 or 16 in those days, to dive off that bridge down to the bridge at Gashouse Lane. there's a bridge going across from Gashouse Lane on to the Meads, isn't there?
JRP: Yes, there is.
JR: And swim. She'd beat the lot.
JRP: Really?
JR: And she'd beat the lot, she would. that was quite a common thing in those days. To watch them take on one another, to swim, from the Folly Bridge, right, down to Gashouse Lane, Gasworks Bridge. Not right down to the Lock...in cse the gates were open, see? Yes.
JRP: And she won?
JR: Oh, she won every time! She did. And another thing about old Dolly.....she used to take her children into the pictures, right? The old Regent, or The Castle. She never bought ice-cream; she never bought them sweets.....she took a loaf of bread, a pot of jam or condensed milk, yes she did; I mean this was good. Cut them off and.....get on with that, yes. That was good. I don't know whether Joey ever told you that.....
JRP: No, he didn't. In fact he didn't actually mention her, other than to say he had a sister called Dolly. Because I was a bit puzzled.
JR: Yes, well I'll tell you why he could have been a bit......Dolly never fitted in with their family.
JRP: Oh.
JR: Right?
JRP: But she was his older sister, wasn't she?
JR: She was older than Joey.
JRP: She was the daughter of Quince.
JR: She was the daughter of Quince, yes. Yrs, that's right. She was the daughter of his mother, put it that way. Of his mother's first man.
JRP: Yes, I thought he meant she was a daughter of Wright, but....
JR: No, no. I think you'll find it was Quince.
JRP: It was Quince, yes. Must have been, yes.
JR: Yes, yes. You see, you can talk about those.... is that on?
JRP: Yes, yes.
JR: I won't tell you then.
JRP: It won't matter, will it? If it's...
JR: No, it's not to be put down. Dolly Quince and her mother......which was, all right, which was brought into those, in those days. We never knew anything about those sort of things in those days. But they, they never did get on, they never. See, Dolly was the spitting image of her mother. Her mother was a big lovely lady. They used to have horses, carthorses in those days. Did he ever tell you that?
JRP: Yes, he said there were horses around.
JR: That's right. Well they were these Shire horses, right? And I can remember her, his mother, Joey's mother, going down to the stables. 'Come here you!' these horses. And she used to bring them out, saddle them up; no, harness them up, put them in the carts and take them round....that was Mrs. Quince. Lovely lady, she was. She was also a very good shot....because down the old fairs, in those days, we would always go for the coconuts. And you could watch her knock them off, one, two, three.
JRP: Really!
JR: Yes, and in those days, she always ....choose....they were long, oh, you had to throw them about 20 yards, no not 20 yards, a bit too much....about 10 - 15 yards, twenty to thirty feet. To knock a coconut off.
JRP: It's a long way, isn't it?
JR: That's right. Yes. It is. But a great family was Joe's. They lived next door to the Johnson's. Another old family. They were, yes.
JRP: And er, the father....the well, the second husband of Mrs. Quince was 'Whisper'
JR: Whisper Wright, yes. He was the one who looked after the Arcade.
JRP: Yeah
JR: He was the Arcade caretaker in those days. Scared you to death.
JRP: Yeah. What did he do? Tell us again. What....
JR: Well he.........if he used to see you with....if he saw you what we call Cook's end where Cooks the grengrocers was, that was this end nearest to Bull Plain, and he used to sit there....because kids weren't allowed in there in those days.....well there was builders....not while there.....while they was building it. And he used to see you at the top end up there at the top end of the Arcade, and he used to.....that's all he did!! (I think he shook his fist or his finger here) And you ran all the way round back, you did, yes.
JRP: Was he a paid employee to do that or did he just take it on....
JR: No. I think he was like, what we call, sub-contracted to look after the place.
JRP: Oh, he was....paid.
JR: I don't know, I really don't know, in those days. Yes, there was quite a few shops in the Arcade in those days.
JRP: Oh yes! I remember that. I was at college in Hertford. I remember going along there, sometimes. Yes.
JR: There was a lot of shops, there was. That's where you used to get a penn'orth of plums of old Mother Cook, as we called her in those days. Cooks....you gor a penn'orth....and you got a bag full of applesor plums and that, for a penny....you did. What they never sold yesterday they sold to the kids cheap the next day! See?
JRP: Yeah.
JR: It was. Old Mrs. Cook, she used to sit there....just sit there, put them in the bag, didn't look what she was doing....just put them in the bag 'There y'are'. Penny!
JRP: Yeah.
JR: Well, when I left the Folly, I travelled the world, as I said, but I still wish I was back down there at times. At times. At. times. Because everybody had their neat little front gardens and the backs....and they kept their chickens and they kept ferrets...every house had a dog....and the cat.....and the kids had rabbits at the bottom of the garden and all that business, they did. Great fun in those days, of an evening, sometimes, in Summer. We used to let all the chickens out, you know, to run all round the garden and all that business. One would fly over the fence.....you had to chase it all the way along and you deliberately chased it so you didn't have to go back home again.
JRP: Yeah!
JR: Yes, you did. And the rabbits. Used to let the rabbits run around:. they didn't go far, but they used to run around the gardens. They did.
JRP: What do you think about the Folly now?
JR: I don't like it at all.
JRP: What do you, how do you, do you think it's become a bit neglected looking? Or?
JR: Well it has become....it's been neglected for the last ten years, twenty years.
JRP: Yes.
JR: It has. I mean, well, nobody had a motor car in those days, down there, except one or two people down there....now you go down there, now, motor bikes in the garden, in the front, and all that. Cars parked all over the place. And it's not as nice and it's not as clean as it used to be. Nowhere near.
JRP: No.
JR: No it's not, no. Nowhere near. And Mondays, wash day, every yard had....I'll tell you one thing while we're thinking about children....you knew what day of the week itwas by the smell of the house. Sunday...roast dinner...you knew, right. Mondays, cold dinner....wash days. You could smell....in those days it was bleach and rought old soap and that.....we used to hate Mondays. I'll tell you why. What did we have to do? The mangling! Out with the....help with the....and the mangles in those days, they seemed enormous. And you have to turn them like that....and of course the rollers.....like trunks of wood cut down. that'ds all they were. In those days. Yes!
Tuesdays. You knew what day it was because the house smelt of ironing. You did. You knew what day it was.
Wednesdays..It all depends what the weather was like! But if it rained you didn't see the carpet. 'Cos we all put newpapers down. We walked all through on it. And Fridays. Fridays was always like a fishy smell or something like that. And Saturdays. Because in those days people didn't have a proper cooked meal on a Saturday because they was out down Hertford Mrket, shopping and all that business.
I always remember Mondays and ironing days, oh, dear. And old Emma Metcalf next door to me. She was a great knitter. So she used to come and say (whisper) 'Come on here a minute.' I says 'What's that?' She says 'How big is, how big is about two feet or three feet?' I used to say, 'Well, about that long.....' Well, as soon as you did that she shoved a skein of wool on your hand!'
JRP: Argh!
JR: Right
JRP: Yes!
JR: And 'cos she was doing like that....we was going 'Aar!' (caught again!) But it was good. And she used to say 'Right. I'll knit you a pullove, I'll knit you this....' Socks. People did knit socks in those days. Because they weren't nylon.....and within a week of having them on your feet, course, you had a hole in them if you don't watch it in those days. Yes. Old Emma Metcalf. Dear oh dear! then she used to say, 'Give us a kiss!' 'No'. Well, I'll keep away from you. How much do you want to keep away from you? We used to say 'That much'...she said no, 'That much' and put the wool on your hands.
And she was a great cook. Stews! Everybody was a great cook in those days. they really were. I mean, stew was stew! And dumplings were as big as that, weren't they? They was lovely big dumplings, they were.
Fishing, people used to do a lot of fishing down the rivers in those days. You didn't need a licence. You didn't need a licence...I've seen, I've seen, um...pike, 2 foot long or more pulled out of the rivers down there. And another things they used to pull out, catch, was eels. Now, do you know how they used to catch the eels.....well, they had a lady's stocking. tey put the old meat in the end, right; when it got in the river it filled out, didn't it? Right. Drop that in the river, eighted down, so it stayed down the bottom 'cos they always stopped....the eel would go in to eat the stuff but it wouldn't turn round, right. It was like a money, it wouldn't let go. You hd to pull them up like that. The next.....another thing was cray fish. Rivers down there were full of cray fish. Well, how they used to ctch them in those days was with an old bicycle wheel. You tied bits of meat and bits of bacon and bits of anything on this old bicycle wheel, lower it into the river. Went back there the nexty day and pick all your crayfish up on it.
JRP: Do you know Dick Darton? He told us about that.
JR: Did he? Dick Darton, he lives up here.
JRP: Yes, I know.
JR: Yes.
JRP: I think he used to do that in the Castle Bridges.
JR: Probably, yeah. No, that's right. Used to just be in, you left it all night long! Oh yes, it's good. Yea. It was. Everybody kept chickens in those day. Fresh eggs. Rabbits. Well, from when I came back and I'd got no where to live, I was staying with my sister Florence at the time and er....I got a bit restless and that....so I was looking in the papers and I says 'Oh, there's a job at Ware Park.' She says 'Oh, what do you want to go to Ware Park for? I was there years ago'....'cos she was a patient then. Well, I went there. I was supposed to be one of the student nurses. Pupil to start the school. they was going to start a school there. Right. Anyway National Health came in. It used to be the old Hertford Group Hospitals. And then about 1950, 52 or something....the NH came in.
JRP: Yes, about then.
Transcribers Note: Actually 1948
JR: There was still groups but it was National Health, wasn't it? And I was thre quite a few years. Quite enjoyed it. there was about 120 patients in those days....and the cure for tuberculosis in those days (it was called consumption) was either a a streptomycin, which came in, or what they call 'paseima'. that's p-a-s-i-n-a-h. They were only abbrevated words for what it was. Right? Pas-inah.
And er....death in those days was quite regular from tuberculosis. And then it all came in.....Ware Park consisted of three wards....which were wooden. Because before that it was the old Ware Park Sanatorium, which was before that, where the army used to recuperate some of their soldiers. And there was also a colony up there of about 20 people, the colony. they slept in huts which when they was originally put there, they was on a base that went round about....they could move them round....to where it was....because there were no windows in those huts....they did put them in eventually....they just hd a wooden thing...because the fresh air was 99 per cent of the cure in those days. the majority of patients came from London. Or shall we say Enfield upwards - right the way up from Ed monton, Tottenham....was rife with TB...right the way down to Barking Creek and all that sort of places....right along the river of Thames. Where the river made a boundary for different groups you see.
The other place from Ware Park, they went either to Bishops Stortford or Black Notley. They were the three main TB hospitals in those days. There was about 30 staff up there. The doctor in my time up there or medical superintendent was Dr. Neville. the matron was Miss Beales: there was old Katie French up there, Mary Pearson. There's only one alive now and that's Ann O'toole. She lives at Ware, but whereabouts I don't know. That's all
You lived in well. If you lived in there, your wages was only about £4 a week....or guineas...in those days. I'll tell you why...because it was easier to split up. You paid one pound one shilling for full board, lodgings, laundry....which you had. Being as the type of work that you did, you were very well fed. You had to be well fed. You got free milk, full breakfast, full lunch, and full dinner at nights. And if you weren't there old Miss Beales the matron wanted to know why you weren't there for your meals. She was a game old thing.
The wards was Manor Ward, Cedar Ward, Spinney Ward. It had its own dispensary at one time, but of course when National Health came to the fore it was all taken back to the County, in those days. It was about 20 acres. Have you been up there?
JRP: Yes, but not in. Only in the grounds.
JR: Yes, that's right, yes. Well, the mansion was there. It was where X-ray department was, the X-ray department was in the mansion. Nurses home was in the mansion. (Female nurses that was) Doctors quarters was in the mansion. Matron's flat was in the main bit there. All the senior staff there.
If you've never been in there you.....it's marvellous really because as you went in the front door there was this big huge room, right! Entrance hall. And it was all floors and parquet. Everything was beautiful. It even had Dutch delft tiles round the ...left there by the previous owners...private owners. I think that was the Parkers. I think it was in those days.
It was self-sufficient. Had a lovely...had a huge market garden. Oh, kitchen garden so big, a big place. Orchards. they kept their own pigs, chickens. Of course all the waste, the food waste from the wards and the kitchens was all taken down....it was re-boiled of course..'cause it had to be.....it was taken down to the pig farm.....and the chickens. they kept their own eggs and chickens. And they had a horse, horse and cart...and his name was Tom, old Tom the horse. And that Tom knew, like a milkman's horse....'cause you know like a milkman's horse knows everywhere to stop - at every door.
Old Tom. He used to get out sometimes and fly off into the woods nd the fields. And there was a big wood at the back of Ware Park... and that's where there used to be foxes, after the chickens; the pigs were there. Oh, it was great! Huge orchard! 'Cos old John Staywood the gardener 'I saw you picking an apple last night'....'cos we'd go raiding, everybody did, used to go scrumping! We didn't know we were grown up, you know. Oh, he was a great man. Andy the old chef was very good. Anybody's birthday, any member of the staff's birthday, or if they got married and they had receptions up there...oh, yes, he was a great cook....great cook he was. Yes, he was. Marvellous man.
Well, we used to go up there in those days you could go either up Bengeo...which is now New Road and walk right the way...there's no buses to Ware Park, except on a Wednesday, Saturday and a Sunday. On a Wednesday there was one bus, that was of an evening. Fridays and Saturdays there was about four buses. It was a regular service from the town to Ware Park Sanatorium...and there was dozens and dozens of people from London. they were. It was so rife, TB in those days. I've seen so many deaths, see? Good place to work. It's a pity they ever closed it.
JRP: Yes.
JR: For the simple reason TB's coming back. The only reason for that is....this is only a personal thing...they don't do screening any more. Do they? You know, take X-rays...immigrants and all that. I mean all members of the staff, I mean every month we used to have to have a X-ray taken of you, you did. And you had your own dentist up there, yes.
The wards were....what we call prefab nowadays. 'Cos they've all gone now. But there was about forty patients. Between 30 and 40 patients, all depends which ward you was on. there was the main ward, in two halves, and it was an open ward....and there was verandahs, which was about from there to there. (The dog comes in) 'Come on then'.
About enough to get a hospital bed in those days, She's all right (the dog) 'Come on, oh all right, sit there then.' And, six beds on one half, that's twelve beds. No windows. And the boys used to argue to get out there. they did. And then they promoted from there (heavy breathing and panting as the dog approaches the tape recorder) to the huts. there was about six huts, I think, on each.
Are you all right ? (as dog upsets tape recorder)
JRP: Yes, I think so (the recorder)
JR: And that was good, it was good. Ellie! (the dog) Any more questions?
JRP: I'll just put the pause on for a bit, or the stop.
Transcribers Note: No harm done but it rather disconcerted JR who decided not to proceed as the dog was so inquisitive.
Peter Ruffles footnotes to John Rist's interview, from memory
I remember it was Dinksie Johnson I found collapsed, 19 Bull Plain. Mary had legs in swathes.
Dinksie perfect complexion, and draped in black.
Remember tales of Whisper Wright - it was said Mrs. Quince married him for his money - stored in the walls. He'd taken out a brick here, a brick there and stuff notes in. Threatening Laney Quince to tell. He then lived so long that there was nothing left for Mrs. Q. to enjoy because she lived not much longer. He was 'really bad on Joe' and Laney didn't like him. She thought mainly because she wouldn't eat bread and milk with him she'd turned him off her. She thought later he looked like Steptoe. Black jacket, long draped, not wrapped-round white scarf. He got on well with her younger sisters, though, she thought.
He went funny in the head, in the end. Running over Mill Bridge in nightcap and gown.
Outside loo - board only and a hole. Newspaper. Too rough for Laney to take a friend to (Grandmother had died but she had sometimes used Mrs. Johnson's)
Dolly was completely unlike Joe. Covered - arms, legs, with tattoos. Really well-known in Ware. Fat, fag, tattoos, sitting. He daughter was drowned. Fell off the bridge when with father (who couldn't swim). Weeds caught her. Dolly came and dived in but too late. She never (Dolly) liked one of Laney's sisters' children (I think) because she looked like her. Pauline Thake? A name I remember in this somewhere.
There was incest: a family joking to one of their number that you've got to watch out, you'll be your own grandfather soon.
Remember Betty Camp telling me Tilly Clayden (13 Thornton St.) used to wrap her stockings round her head whenever there was thunder in the air, or lightning.
'Laney' is Elaine Quince - Joe and Nell Quince's eldest of several daughters. She's now Elaine Kerr of 17 Sele Rd.
Sept. 2002.